by Zoe Blake
Grabbing the wine glass, Paine drained it as he turned his back on her for a moment. Turning back around, he said, “Pearly accepted a hit against me? Me? I’ve played poker with that backstabbing dick.”
Mirage shrugged her shoulders. “He said if he didn’t do it, someone else would. Plus I…I offered him the…the Jubilee.”
“I fucking knew that heist was you!” said Paine as he pointed at her.
The Jubilee was a seventy-eight-carat uncut diamond found in Russia. The seller had announced it was to be put on the market, but it had disappeared from a highly secured Geneva bank before the auction could take place. It had been a theft of pure mastery. His first thought at the time was it had to be his girl, Mira. Even then he’d thought of her as his.
Sending him a shy smile, Mirage just nodded her head. She had kept that particular heist a secret from everyone. Even Dev. In retrospect, her instincts were probably telling her something was wrong even back then. She’d just refused to listen to them.
“Well, I guess if a friend is going to betray you, it might as well be for a diamond worth tens of millions.”
Paine reached for her. Mirage flinched as she craned her body back as far as the binds would allow.
“Are you going to kill me now?”
“No, my reckless little fool. We need to go find Pearly and clean up your mess.”
Chapter 6
“Absolutely not.”
“I’m sorry. Did I start that sentence with ‘if it pleases Her Majesty’?” came his angry retort.
“I am not riding about the countryside with a man who has a contract out on his head!”
Paine curled his hands into fists as if to keep from strangling her. “It’s because of you I have that contract on my head.”
Mirage tossed her head, her tawny waves falling over her shoulders. “Moot point. Besides, I’m not entirely convinced you’re still not going to try to kill me.”
Paine grabbed her by the chin. His eyes flashed an icy blue. “At this very moment, neither am I, kitten.” He placed a hard kiss on her lips before turning away.
“Will you at least untie me and give me some clothes?”
His only response was a bark of laughter over his shoulder as he left the bedroom.
A half hour later she was bundled up in a blanket, naked as jaybird underneath, in the passenger seat of his car. Since she’d been told in no uncertain terms she could just as easily be riding in the trunk, Mirage was making the best of it.
“I’m staying at the Dorchester in Mayfair.”
“How nice for you,” he responded as he directed the car in the opposite direction.
“Hey! You are seriously not going to take me back to my hotel so I can get some clothes?”
“Nope.”
“I don’t have any money or ID or my phone,” she complained. She never carried anything that could possibly identify her when working on a job. She even hid her room key somewhere outside the hotel to await her return since she knew they could also be tracked.
Paine gave her a once-over, then a quick wink. “I figure that should slow your escape down to at least half speed. If Pearly is going to call off the hit, I need you by my side to do it, and you have a nasty little habit of disappearing on me. I still haven’t figured out how the fuck you managed to get out of that safe house in D.C. so quickly without going through the bedroom window or the front door.” His voice held a hint of pride mixed with appreciation.
Mirage only half hid her smile.
“What can I say? I’m a natural,” came her saucy response.
It wasn’t hard to be a natural when your grandfather had taught you how to break into a home from the time you were six years old. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t been a bad man. Hell, he hadn’t even been a criminal until after…after…that night. The night her parents were killed in a car accident. As a retired steel worker, he hadn’t had the money to support a little girl and was desperate to not have the State take her away. So, he’d done what he had to do to keep her. He’d done it out of love. He’d even made most of it into a game. And it was fun, until he’d gotten arrested when she was seventeen. Her beloved grandfather had died in prison. She’d been left alone. A life of crime was all she had ever known. The only stable thing in her life, as odd as that seemed. There’d been no turning back at that point. She’d decided from that moment forward she would be the best there was. She would plan and do each heist with precision. Control. Control. Control. It was how she lived her life. No risks. No unknowns. Everything planned and researched.
Her attraction to Paine was not a part of the plan.
His ability to seize control of her body and even her mind was not a part of the plan.
Her submissive reaction to the dominance of his touch was definitely not a part of the plan.
And she wouldn’t even think about the spanking kink being part of the plan.
Nothing was going according to plan, and Mirage was trying very hard not to panic.
She had been a fool to believe Dev had cared and loved her. She would not allow herself to go down that same path with Paine. A man who still very well may kill her.
She had to get control back.
She had to escape.
“Here you go,” said Paine as he tossed a white plastic shopping bag onto her lap.
Mirage opened the bag. Closing it with a huff, she sent him a glare.
“What? You wanted clothes,” he said with a smirk.
“Seriously?” said Mirage as she pulled out one of the items and held it up for his inspection.
“I got you a T-shirt and yoga pants. I noticed that’s what you like to wear,” Paine said, looking for all the world as innocent as a newborn babe.
Mirage’s entire wardrobe consisted of black T-shirts and black yoga pants. The only variation was the occasional long-sleeved T-shirt. Despite what was shown on television, fiber evidence was no good to the police if it was a common fiber that could not be traced. There was nothing more common and boring than black T-shirts and yoga pants, except for maybe jeans, but those fibers were traceable. The T-shirt and yoga pants outfit was ideal for heists and quick escapes, and if she were to ever have to leave her luggage behind, her wardrobe would tell the police nothing about her, her travels or her personality. Control. Control. Control. Even her wardrobe was held under rigid control.
Except for now, when she was with Paine.
Mirage held up a bright pink T-shirt with the image of a kitten on it and neon blue yoga pants. “Really?”
“What? The kitten is cute. It’s what I think about whenever I look at you. An adorable sleek kitten with a set of nasty claws.”
Mirage blushed at the strangely flattering comparison. Shaking off the warm sentiment toward him, she said, “And the blue neon pants? These are atrocious.”
Paine gave her a knowing smile. “It’s a lot harder to escape into thin air wearing a pair of neon pants. Besides, it will be nice to see some color on you.”
Mirage’s dark eyes narrowed. “I hate you.”
Paine turned his attention back to the road. “So you keep saying,” he responded in a teasing sing-song voice.
She continued to dig in the bag. At the bottom was a tube of deep crimson lipstick. She shot Paine a questioning look.
The look of pure sexual possession and promise in his eyes was the only response she needed.
Mirage didn’t think her cheeks could blush any hotter.
She was quickly proven wrong when he refused to allow her to go to the ladies’ room to change.
“You just want me to change right here in the car?”
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before or will again.”
Mirage struggled to maneuver the blanket so he didn’t see so much as a flash of skin as she put on the clothes, all the while muttering how she hoped Pearly didn’t miss his mark.
“What was that?”
“I said we’re off to a banging start,” Mirage retorted, taking her turn at lo
oking for all the world as innocent as a newborn babe.
Mirage could feel his warm hand brush her cheek but pretended to be asleep. The car had stopped a few minutes ago. They had been driving for at least three hours. She hadn’t bothered to ask him where because she knew he wouldn’t tell her. She could feel him unbuckle her seat belt and then gather her into his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder, liking the feel of his soft flannel shirt and the smell of his cologne.
Still, she pretended to be asleep. She didn’t want him to know she liked the feel of his arms holding her, or that she felt strangely safe. It reminded her how she’d felt when he’d broken down the barricaded door in Istanbul. With the bright light shining behind him, all she could make out was this tall, imposing figure. She hadn’t known if he was the military or the police or any number of other possible enemies. Then he had knelt before her and wiped her cheek and she’d known she was safe and was going to be all right.
Except then she’d run, just as she was planning to do now. Feeling safe and warm, relying on someone, all of those were foreign, frightening emotions for her. Perhaps that was why she’d convinced herself she was in love with Dev. He’d just been someone who was there, who understood her life choices, who didn’t judge, who could let her pretend everything was normal. But he wasn’t someone who’d made her feel safe or protected. If he had, she would have run from him too.
She was jostled a bit as Paine opened the door to wherever he was taking her. The place was cold with a musty, shut-in smell. Paine placed her gently on something soft but firm. It was probably a sofa she thought, still refusing to open her eyes. She could hear him moving about. There was a scraping sound then the smell of sulfur. Soon she heard the crackle and pop of a fire. The room filled with the scent of pine and burning cedar. Tilting her head back slightly, she could feel the warmth from the flames.
Listening, she could hear sounds coming from the kitchen; the quiet clang of a metal pot hitting the stove, the whoosh sound of cabinets being opened and searched, the clink of a utensil as it was laid against a china plate. If she listened closely, she could even swear she heard Paine humming a soft tune.
It all felt so domestic. So cozy.
So wrong.
They weren’t some cute couple in love on a holiday. They were two thieves hiding out from a contract killer whom she’d hired.
Two thieves who hated one another. Didn’t they?
Mirage threw aside the blanket and rose, taking in her surroundings. They were in a small, rustic cottage with bare stone walls, exposed timber beams and old, blown-glass windows. The furniture was sturdy with a rich, royal blue upholstery. The room had a masculine feel because of the heavy wooden furnishings but with subtle feminine touches. A delicate vase was on the bookshelf. Pictures of wildflowers hung on the walls. Little lace doilies lay on all the small tables’ surfaces. The place was adorable. It felt like a home.
It made everything worse.
Mirage marched in the direction of the noises and found him in a tiny kitchen. The windows sent a honey glow of light into the darkness outside. She could see into the small yard with its vegetable garden and little, dilapidated picket fence and beyond to the open rough sea. They must be somewhere along the coast, thought Mirage.
“You’re just in time. I made macaroni and cheese…although without the milk, so I can’t be held responsible for how it tastes,” teased Paine with a wink. “We aren’t exactly expected guests here, so the larder wasn’t stocked. I did buy some wine when I got your clothes. Corkscrew is in the drawer. Why don’t you open the bottle for us?”
He was scooping the clumpy bright orange pasta into two bowls as he spoke. Casually. Calmly. As if he were talking to a date or a girlfriend.
“I’m not hungry, and the last thing I’m going to do is get drunk around you again.” The memory of Istanbul was at the front of her mind. She’d gotten drunk on whiskey while the world erupted into chaos around them. Memories of the passionate night that followed had Mirage ruthlessly pushing away the seductive pull of the shadows from the past.
“You’ll eat anyway, baby. You haven’t eaten all day,” he commanded.
“I said I’m not fucking hungry.” Mirage pushed the bowl away.
Paine put down the pot and turned to stare at her.
“Careful, kitten. Your claws are showing.” He took a step toward her.
“So what if they are, I didn’t ask to be brought here!” Mirage took a step backward in spite of her defiant words.
“I’m beginning to believe you antagonize me on purpose, just so I’ll fuck you. Baby, if you want my cock, all you have to do is ask.”
“You’re a bastard and I hate you.” Her breath came in excited gasps as her cheeks began to heat, warming up for the fight ahead.
Paine took another step toward her as he reached to unbuckle his belt.
Mirage held out a hand in warning. “Don’t you dare!”
Paine whipped the belt free of his jeans’ loops. He then held it between his hands, taking several steps toward her as Mirage quickly retreated.
“I think you like this. Crave it. The fight. The chase. The adrenaline rush when I capture you. Force you.”
Mirage’s eyes sparked with fury, hating the truth of his words. Her nipples tightened as her stomach clenched. She could feel herself getting wet as he silently approached. Still she tried to deny it. “It’s not true,” she fired back at him.
“How do you want it this time, Mira? I already took that sweet cunt and tight ass of yours. I think this time I want your mouth.”
“Oh, God!” she moaned, resisting the urge to close her eyes and let his dark, dangerous words penetrate to her bones.
Paine lunged for her.
Mirage screamed and ran. Unfamiliar with the layout of the house, she ran blindly down one hall, around a corner then into another room. “Fuck!” It was a bedroom, with no exit.
She turned to flee.
Paine was standing in the doorway. He had tossed his shirt aside, exposing a strong muscular chest with thin swirls of black hair. Thick biceps. Wide shoulders. A flat stomach. Mirage devoured every inch with her gaze and hated herself for it.
He stepped into the room as he unzipped his jeans.
Mirage grabbed a small figurine which rested on a bureau and launched it at his head.
He deftly twisted his shoulders. The figure smashed against the wall.
He lunged again.
Grabbing her by the throat, he pressed her back against the wall.
Kissing and nipping at the smooth column of her neck, he worked his way up to her ear. “Brace yourself, kitten. This is going to hurt.”
Mirage couldn’t breathe. A lightheaded euphoria began to drift over her senses. Finally, he relinquished his grip on her throat only to push her to her knees.
Taking his belt, he wrapped the thick leather around her neck, pushing the end through the heavy buckle and pulling just tight enough to slightly squeeze her throat.
Mirage placed a hand between her legs and rubbed her throbbing cunt.
Paine yanked on the belt. “No touching that pretty little cunt of yours until you’ve finished sucking my cock.”
Her eyes lit with defiance. Just to test him, she closed her lips tight, breathing swiftly through her nose in her rising arousal.
Paine reached down and grasped her cheeks. The tips of his fingers pressed in. The delicate skin inside her mouth cut against the sharp edges of her teeth. With a cry, she relented and opened her mouth.
“Good girl,” he growled.
Releasing his grip on her face but keeping hold of the belt, he reached inside his jeans to pull out his thick shaft.
Mirage felt a trickle of fear curl deep within her chest. He was so big. So thick. She had never really liked giving oral, so she had next to no practice. There was no way she was going to be able to satisfy a man like Paine.
“I… don’t… I can’t….’
“You can and you will. Open your m
outh.”
Mirage whimpered as the heavy, bulbous head of his cock pushed past her lips.
Her tongue swirled around the tip before he pushed in further. Shifting his hips forward, his shaft slipped unrestricted further into her open mouth. Mirage's chest convulsed as she made a gurgling sound, fighting for breath. Desperately yanking on the restraining belt around her neck, she tried to pull her head back, but it hit the resistance of the wall behind her kneeling form. His cock filled her mouth, the wide shaft pressing down on her tongue, the bulging tip pushing against the back of her throat, cutting off her air.
Paine kept a firm grip on his shaft for another moment before relenting. He pulled free. Mirage fell forward, taking choking gulps of air into her lungs.
Once again he grabbed the belt and forced her head up. Looking down at her tear-streaked cheeks, he warned, “Take a deep breath.”
Panicked, she tried to shake her head but couldn't before he drove his cock into her mouth again. Moving his hips back and forth, he pulsed the head of his cock in short thrusts, hitting sensitive nerves at the back of her throat. She gagged but he refused to relent. Just kept thrusting. Using her. Fucking her mouth.
Mirage’s jaw ached from trying to keep her lips open around his thrusting cock. The underside of her tongue felt cut from where it pressed against her teeth. The back of her throat was tender and swollen, the muscles tired from contracting.
Her resistance was weakening. He pushed deeper into her throat. Through the thrumming in her ears, she could hear him groan.
Paine pulled out of her mouth, giving her a chance to catch her breath.
Leaning down, he wiped the tears from her cheeks and the spittle from her chin. Brushing the hair from her eyes, he said, “Goddamn, baby, you’ve never looked more beautiful. I’ve fantasized about having you kneeling before me, your mouth open and awaiting.” His breath came in ragged, harsh gasps.
Mirage felt a sick pleasure at the raw lust and truth she heard in his words.