by Selena Kitt
“Noooo!” she panted, thrusting up now, following his rhythm, her eyes squeezed shut, pulling her own knees back so he could get deeper access. She was so fucking beautiful he could barely stand it. “Ohhhhhhh! No! No! Yessss!”
He smiled, watching her come again, feeling the wet suck of her pussy around his fingers, her little asshole clenching with every spasm. For a minute he felt like he was going to pass out just seeing that, the hot pucker of her rosebud opening and closing gently with her climax.
“Fuck me,” she insisted, her voice throaty, reaching for him.
He gave her what she wanted, but he flipped her onto her belly first. He wanted to see her little asshole while he fucked her. Goldie spread for him, arching her back and lifting her bottom in the air. His cock slid in easily and he groaned at the sensation, so good, too good. He let out a slow breath, bottoming out and looking down to see his cock going into her, his gaze moving up to the slight curve at her waist.
He couldn’t help it—his wet his finger, licking her juices off his hand, and pressed it against the tight pucker of her ass. She protested, whimpering, as he knew she would, but just feeling her sphincter clench gave his cock a jolt.
“Campbell, please,” she begged, looking over her shoulder at him.
“Please what?” He slipped his wet finger in, just up to the first knuckle, feeling her tense. She buried her face in her arms and cried out, shaking her head. “What are you gonna let me crack this, hm?”
She gave a muffled moan as he dared a little more, wiggling his finger in deeper. “Okay!”
Everything in him stopped. He stared at her flushed cheeks, her hair clouded around them, her lips wet and red from biting them, and was sure he’d just heard her wrong.
“Okay?”
“Yes,” she breathed, pushing back against his finger. His cock felt electrified inside her pussy and he swallowed hard. “I packed KY. It’s in my bag.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Besides, he was too worried she might change her mind. He lubed himself up nicely, not spending too long stroking though—he was far too close to coming for that. It would probably be two strokes in her ass before he came as it was.
“Are you ready?” he asked, dribbling KY down the crack of her ass and pressing the head of his cock against her asshole.
“Easy!” She tensed the moment she felt him there. “Oh god, it’s so big! Campbell!”
“Sorry,” he apologized, although he was grinning. What guy didn’t like to hear that? “I’ll go slow.”
“You better,” she panted, closing her eyes and gripping the hotel comforter in her fists.
“Just try to relax,” he murmured, biting his lip and watching as the mushroom head of his cock disappeared slowly under the ring of her sphincter. Goldie didn’t cry out. She didn’t even move. She just breathed, slow and even, nostrils flaring, her lower lip drawn between her teeth.
“Oh god.” Campbell felt his cock slip under that ring of muscle, the feeling so good he could barely stand it. His instinct was to fuck her fast and hard, to bury himself into her, but he resisted, adjusting himself between her thighs and easing in a little more.
“Is it in?” she cried, feeling him move.
“Almost,” he assured her, judging that he was about a quarter of the way there. Maybe it was like a Band-Aid and if you did it fast, it hurt less? He grabbed her hips and gave into it, shoving his cock deep into her ass.
“Ohhhh!” Goldie reached back with one hand, trying to push him out, but he was in now, buried to the hilt. The heat of her was almost too much and seeing her asshole stretched to accommodate him made him crazy with lust. He closed his eyes, the sight alone enough to send him over.
“Are you okay?” he panted, realizing he was gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises.
“Yes,” she breathed, and he felt her move. His cock came to life as she slid him slowly out and then wiggled back into the saddle of his hips.
Campbell groaned, knowing it was over and he’d barely begun to fuck her ass. “Fuck! Baby!”
“You like that?” she teased, rocking back, that tight ring of muscle massaging his cock with every pass. “You like fucking my asshole?”
“Oh Jesus.” He was a goner. Grabbing her hips, he gave it everything he had, pounding into her ass, making her squeal. The cum had reaching a boiling point in his balls and there was no going back now. “Oh yeah! Baby, I’m gonna come in your ass!”
She cried out with him as he came, every hot burst of his cum a new geyser of pleasure filling that humid hole. His whole body shook and it felt like it was never going to end, every burst of cum another jolt of sensation, sending him howling down into her on the bed with all his weight, writhing on top of her in total abandon.
When he remembered where he was, he rolled off her panting body, apologizing, but she was already wrapping herself up in his arms, cooing and purring like Goldie always did after sex, whispering how much she loved him, how much she wanted him. He closed his eyes, smiling, just soaking her in. They didn’t have enough time like this, but with a woman like Goldie, there wouldn’t be enough time in the day.
“Campbell?”
“Hm?”
“How did you know it would be the Ursas?”
He smiled. “We’re not allowed to talk business.”
“But you were right. That’s what they want me to steal. The Ursa diamonds.”
“Of course I’m right.” He pulled the edge of the hotel comforter over them, not wanting to think about how many other people had done this very thing on these covers. “I’m always right.”
“You’re so humble.”
He laughed. “I try.”
“It’s almost over,” she whispered, touching her fingertip to his lips. “We’re almost there.”
He felt the excitement of her words in his belly. She was right. Years of planning, building trust, getting the Behrs to move the Ursa diamonds from their estate in Zurich to this one in Colorado, hours of hacking, creating backdoors in the system that even his own tech guys couldn’t find. It was all coming together.
“And then you can marry me,” she teased, nibbling gently at his nipple.
“Hey!” He laughed, twisting away. “Who says I’m marrying you?”
“Poppy says if you don’t marry me, he’s going to come after you with a shotgun.”
He snorted. “I’d like to see that—an eighty year old man chasing me down in a wheelchair.”
“I love you, Campbell.”
He kissed her forehead, stroking her hair, and he knew she was waiting for him to say it, but in five years, he never had. God knew, he certainly felt it, but somehow the words always got stuck in his throat. After a while, he heard the deep, even sound of her breathing and closed his eyes and slept too.
* * * *
It’s as easy as one-two-three. Goldie used the application on Campbell’s iPhone to disable the security cameras around the Behr estate. They weren’t disabled, per se—Campbell had explained the feed would be replaced with a dummy one for fifteen minutes—but by then she’d have what she needed and be gone. The wall around the estate was ten feet high, but she was over it in no time, repelling down the other side and dropping in behind a cluster of trees.
The back part of the estate was well lit, but without outside flood lights it was impossible to illuminate an entire area. Goldie stuck to the shadows and made her way to the side of the house, using Campbell’s iPhone again to disable the alarm to the doorwall. He had it figured to allow her time to get in without causing undue attention at the main security station. According to Campbell, there was only one guy on duty at night, but it was always better safe than sorry.
She had studied the floor plan extensively. Most people didn’t know that the entire floor plan of their house was usually accessible online—you just had to know where to look. In this case, it was public knowledge, because the Behr estate was also an historical home, registered with the state. She used her glass cutter to cr
eate a perfect circle and a suction cup to remove it, setting the glass aside and slithering through the hole onto the tile.
If she’d been a regular burglar, she would have entered through a door, probably into a main room, and started rifling through drawers, hunting for bedrooms. The Behr’s were smart, she knew, and left cash accessible in those places, just as she did, on Campbell’s advice. Most thieves were looking to score hot and fast—and if they found cash right away, they were less likely to go looking for more, since time was always a factor. The real valuables were usually safe from regular burglars in those instances.
Of course, if she’d been a regular burglar, she would have already been caught.
Even if Campbell hadn’t already told her, she would have known where to look for the safe. Most people put them in walls or floors in their bedroom, which was always a good place to start. A safe, especially one that wasn’t bolted down, was a thief magnet. Of course, with Goldie’s talent, the safe didn’t need to be bolted down, it just needed to be accessible. This one wasn’t. The safe itself was through the indoor pool room, in the sauna, behind a door that was accessible only with a combination lock hidden behind a panel that looked, for all intents and purposes, like a breaker box. It was also set with an alarm she had to disable through Campbell’s iPhone.
Goldie then got to work on the combination, her real talent, lining up the contact points in less than a minute. The lock opened a small door with a keypad inside. She could have played around with that forever but instead she shined a black light on it, revealing the last four digits touched. There were then only sixteen possibilities. She found the correct one after four tries. The keypad electronically opened a door to her right without any handle, almost seamlessly set into the wall.
She pried it open, slipping in, the cool metal inside a relief from the heat of the sauna, the room automatically lit when the door opened. It was a vault, the door behind it 10 gauge steel, two pieces of 5/8 fireboard in between, with a 3/8 inch steel plate door. The vault could be used as a panic room—the red lever on the door inside was a lock and release. There was a remote re-locker on this door, she noted. The hammer would have dropped if she’d tried to drill it. Of course, you would have had to know the door was there in the first place, which most thieves never would have guessed.
Thanks to Campbell, she knew exactly where to go. Almost done now—just a little more work. Behind her on the wall was a row of boxes, similar to safe deposit boxes, except they all had combination locks instead of keys. A smaller combination lock was always harder to crack than the big ones. Their contact points were tiny, the variations in the system small. This was going to be a real challenge.
Goldie found the right box—they were numbered like safe deposit boxes as well, and she noted the number she was looking for with not a little irony: 102398. It was the same as the one on Daniel’s arm. He’d shown it to her himself when she went to Europe last May, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the faded blue numbers tattooed into his wrinkled skin. He had survived the concentration camp and for some reason the Behr brothers had used his tattoo number rather than his father, Jakob’s. She glanced at the other boxes, noting that they, too, had similar numbers, non-sequential. Did that mean what she thought it did? Were those tattoo numbers?
She didn’t want to think about that. It was bad enough imagining her grandfather in one of those concentration camps, how he’d seen his whole family die, either from disease or starvation or, in the case of his mother, a bullet to the head. He’d been a young man then, just twenty-one, strong and virile and, thankfully, useful. Once they had found out he was a locksmith, he’d been employed immediately to crack all of the Jewish safes collected during the war.
“Thousands of them,” he’d told her, looking both excited and horrified at once. She knew. She loved cracking a safe, loved the feeling it gave her, no matter what the reason, whether she was there to help a bank fortify its security system, or in this case, to steal something outright. It didn’t matter—cracking was cracking.
And then one day he’d told her about Jakob—his friend, his fellow locksmith, the one who had discovered, among those thousands of metal safes, his own family’s valuables. There had been three priceless jewels in Jakob’s father’s collection—Ursa Major, Ursa Minor and Ursa Median—all blue diamonds of very rare quality. Jakob had found those diamonds and, instead of handing them over with the other contents of the safe—his parent’s marriage license, the now useless deed to their house in Sundern, other cash and jewels—he had swallowed those diamonds instead, all three of them. And he had kept swallowing them. For three months Jakob swallowed them until, according to Poppy, one of the guards had discovered his secret.
Goldie found the combination to the box in less than three minutes. She opened it and almost laughed. When she was about eight, she had wanted a little porcelain figurine she saw sitting in the drugstore window, a pretty ballerina. She told her father every time they passed how much she loved it. That year for her birthday, she received a gift in a box so big that she nearly burst into tears—her doll was far too small for a container so large. Her father just stood there and grinned, watching her unwrap the thing with a trembling lower lip, to find another wrapped box inside. And then another. And then another. Until finally she unwrapped a tiny box revealing the doll she’d wanted all along.
Instead of opening the safe door to reveal the jewels—there was another door instead, another combination lock. Campbell hadn’t told her about that, but she was sure he probably didn’t even know. He could bypass security cameras and alarm systems, figure out digital keypads and get his hands on the blueprints of the house, but a combination lock was always a problem. Drilling a safe like this could easily destroy the contents, or trigger a secondary locking mechanism that would make it impossible to open. The only way in would be to know the combination, and those were kept secret, even from the Behr brother’s head of security.
Goldie went to work again, thinking about the jewels inside, about who they really belonged to. Poppy’s story about Jakob had touched her deeply. The man had sacrificed everything to keep them in his family and had ultimately failed. The hasty German bullet to Jakob’s head had rendered the natural waiting for the diamonds impossible, so they had instead been surgically removed. The German officer who had shot the young locksmith had laid claim to the jewels and had been allowed to keep them.
“Still have them today,” Poppy had told her bitterly. “The Behrs own more Jewish wealth than any German family from the war. They stole it all from those safes. Those diamonds belonged to Jakob, something he could pass down to his son.”
Jakob’s young son, Daniel, was his only remaining heir, and had survived the concentration camps, Goldie had discovered. Her trip to Europe had proved quite informative.
“Wait…” Goldie had interrupted him, making a connection. “The Behr brothers. They’re one of dad’s clients.”
Poppy had nodded, looking at her with that same shameful face she’d seen when he told her about cracking Nazi safes. The Behrs were rich. The Behr brothers, grandsons of the man who had ordered Daniel cut open to get the jewels from his intestines, paid very well.
They’re finally going to pay up today, Goldie thought, hearing the satisfying click of the second combination lock, swinging the little door open—only to find another door, yet another combination. She swore, shaking her head in disbelief.
Three jewels, three locks. There was something apropos about it, she supposed, going to work on the third combination. Campbell wouldn’t believe it when she told him. He’d gotten hired as their head of security, had earned the Behr brothers’ trust, had planned this operation down to every last detail he could manage, but he never would have anticipated three combination locks on the box.
It’s a good thing I have magic hands, Goldie thought, focusing on lining up the last gate under the fence, feeling the subtle shift with her fingers when she found it. She pulled the latch and the door opened. Sh
e almost expected yet another door and lock, but instead found a blue velvet drawstring bag. Pulling it out, she opened it up and peered inside, seeing a faint glint in the light.
Carefully, she turned her palm face up and gently shook the bag, spilling three diamonds into her hand—Ursa Major, Ursa Minor and Ursa Median. They were beautiful, three round cut gems ready for setting in three graduated sizes. The big one had to be as large as the Hope diamond, forty-five, maybe even fifty carats. Poppy couldn’t remember their weights to tell her, but he’d been a locksmith, not a jeweler. She knew from talking with Jakob’s son, Daniel, that they were beyond priceless. In fact, they were worth so much money it left her breathless just to touch them.
Glancing at her watch, she saw that only ten minutes had passed since she had climbed the Behr’s fence. She slipped the jewels back into their velvet bag and secured it deep into one of her catsuit pockets. Then she closed all three combination lock doors and slipped back through the vault door into the sauna, shutting it quietly behind her. The pool gave a queer aqua glow, lit from inside, and she edged around it, heading for the doorwall she’d entered through. Back out the hole she’d made with the glass cutter, through the grass, over the wall, and she would be home-free.
She made it through the door and was squatting by the side of the house, surveying the lawn, when she heard the voice, distant, but still far too close for comfort.
“Right here at the fence.”
Goldie froze, hearing the words and knowing immediately what they meant. She could have pulled her ropes up, probably should have, but fifteen minutes was such a short time and leaving them saved her time on the way out. She slipped behind one of the shrubs next to the house and strained to hear the voices—were they inside or outside the wall?
“I’m Richard Campbell, head of security. Can I help you, officer?”
Goldie breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Campbell’s voice and took the opportunity to slip around the side of the house, heading toward the front. There was only one way out now that she didn’t have the equipment to climb the wall and she prayed she could get there before the security cameras went back to their real-time feed. She pulled Campbell’s phone from her pocket to check and saw the countdown timer gave her four minutes to get to the front gate. She would have made it over the back wall easily, of course, but that’s where Campbell and their unexpected police visitor were talking.
