Stealing Allie

by H S Russell

  I stay in bed, reviewing my strategy. My plan is to wear her down in the most primal, cruel way a man can work a woman. I want to drive her to the edge of sanity, then swoop in for the kill, demanding the location of the money when her body lies shattered underneath me. Then, and only then, will I be satisfied with my revenge.

  It’s what comes after that I’m not so sure about.

  What’s not a part of my game plan is how much I’m enjoying her once again. Beyond the sex, I thought anger was the only thing I had left to feel for her. I never thought that I would once again be taken in by her brightness, her humor, her sass…not to mention how fucking fun she is. How had I forgotten all of that? I still never know what’s going to come out of her mouth, or how she’s going to react to something. Honestly, sometimes I’ll make a situation more than it is just to see her react.

  I live for those comments of hers, and those eye rolls. That swishy walk when she’s miffed at me, the one that makes my hands itch to spank her ass.

  I spent nine months dreaming about fucking her brains out, making her fall for me, and then walking away after admitting to not only where the money is, but to how much she wants me in her life. Now, I’m not so sure I want to walk away.

  It’ll be brutal. I’ll miss everything about her, but it’s the only way this thing can end. I’m a criminal, and that’s not going to change.

  I look over at her sleeping form and reach out to stroke her hair. There’s never been a woman who’s made me want to stay with her. And since Allie is the one I want, Allie is the one I can’t have.

  Life. Fucking, fucking life.

  Allie

  He’s a serious stretcher, which annoys the heck out of me.

  That’s beside the point, really. The point is that he’s taking me out for a run with him. It’s my first time out of the apartment since he showed up days ago. I’m so giddy I don’t care that he’s giving me that look to get warmed up. One of those I’m not asking you, I’m telling you kind of looks.

  I stretch before I run, of course I do. But he does the whole sitting down on the grass and touching his toes and squatting and blah blah blah kind of stretching. I just hold my leg behind me by the ankle to stretch my quads, then bend over and touch my toes for three seconds to get my hammies good and stretched. Then I’ll swing my arms out to the side a few times, creating a centrifuge for my blood to get going.

  When I try to get out of doing more, he gives me the eye. When he gives me that look, it makes me melt inside. I have to look away, otherwise he’ll see. I have no defenses against him when he’s like this. It’s as if there’s something inside of me that has to obey. It’s a compulsion, this wanting to please him. I’ve never dated a guy who could own me with just a look.

  Which begs the question, why is it him of all people? He’s a thief. A kidnapper. His life is running from the law. Every single day he faces going to prison. I know this about him, yet here I am, letting him do all manner of shameful things to me as if I can trust him. As if we’re real. Like we’re an us.

  He interrupts my thoughts. “You ready, princess? I’ll let you lead the way.” I’m thankful I can stop with the fake stretching.

  “I haven’t run in a few days, so don’t expect much,” I tell him. Always set the bar low is my motto. We begin at a light pace.

  “I haven’t either, babe. We’ll both need a decent warming-up period.”

  He doesn’t even realize he’s called me babe. It feels weird hearing him call me those names—“princess” and “babe”—outside of the apartment. It’s weird still to hear them inside the apartment as well. Not that I mind it. I don’t mind at all. And that’s what the problem is.

  “What do you think you’ll want for dinner tonight?” he asks me.

  “I don’t know. I’m kind of pizza and lasagna’d out though, so no pasta or red sauce.”

  He grunts. “I’ll do something I make at home a lot. You’ll like it.”

  I groan. “Like what? Pounded chicken breasts and spinach?”

  His shoots me a glance.. ‘Uh, yeah. Is there something wrong with that?”

  He really is letting me set the pace, which surprises me. I thought he’d take over when he saw how slow I am.

  I roll my eyes. “Not at all. It’s just the exact same meal that roughly the entire population of healthy, confirmed bachelors make.” He doesn’t say anything, but I think he might be a little offended. I just roll my eyes again.

  He catches me at it. “You just rolled your eyes at me,” he huffs. “Twice. Don’t think I didn’t see.”

  I have to fight rolling my eyes a third time.

  Then all of the sudden, he admits something. “I like when you do that,” he says, smiling.

  I’m already breathing so much harder than him, but that smile almost takes all my breath away. “No you don’t,” I remind him. “You threaten to spank me when I do it.”

  He laughs. “Why do you think I love it so much?”

  I duck my head to hide my blush. I decide to save the discussion of spankings for another time.

  “I’m glad you talked me into this.”

  He leers at me, reminding me of how this went down. “I didn’t talk you into this, I told you we were doing this.”

  Ohmygod, even during midjog he pulls his deep, commanding voice stuff on me. Time for yet another redirection.

  “How come you’re breathing easier than me? You haven’t run in a few days either.” Gah, unless you count all the times he’s run up on me. I feel a blush moving through my body at the thought. I already know that I walked right into this one.

  “I have longer legs, so I’m not working as hard. Plus I’ve had more cardio the last few days.” Now I can feel him looking at me with his side-eyes. “I also discuss things when I jog.”

  I side-eye him back. “You talk when you jog?” I’ve never understood how people can do that. I can do it for just a little bit, then I need all the lung power I can get just for the run.

  “I usually run with a coworker. It’s when we talk about work. We get most of our shit settled during runs.”

  Did he just share something personal with me? “By coworker, you mean one of those other guys from the trailer?” I don’t expect him to answer, I really don’t. But he surprises me.

  “Possibly.” He shrugs.

  I honest-to-god almost trip at the admission. He never answers personal questions, never. Nothing since that conversation about his family from long, long ago.

  Shocked into silence, I quit talking and concentrate on the run. He takes over eventually, guiding me, making sure I see dips in the path I’ve been running over for weeks now. He never changes his pace, allowing me to keep it where I need it. When I start to drop off too early, he pushes me just enough to keep me going.

  And that’s what he does—he pushes me. He pushes me to reach outside and beyond my comfort zone. He pushes me to try to get somewhere without giving up. He’s the whole impetus for my lifestyle change. And now here he is, pushing me again in ways I probably need.

  He is so wrong for me. And he’s done so much wrong to me. He’s holding me hostage and using my body to extract payment for stealing from him. He’s denying me pleasure while he slakes his own, using my body to do so. He’s possibly going to end up in prison one day.

  And yet, despite all of that, I love him. And I want him in my life.

  ✤ ✤ ✤

  “I cannot believe you’ve never seen Guardians of the Galaxy. It’s a classic,” I tell him.

  We’re lying on my couch, not quite touching, but still within reach of each other. He’s been sweet and, dare I say it, fun Lucas. It’s a Lucas I’ve rarely seen. I like him like this, although I like him just about every way except for angry. And right now, he’s trying to get me to lower my defenses again, I know he is.

  “Babe, I told you, I don’t go to movies very much. Plus it’s too new to be a classic.”

  There have been a lot of babes today. A lot of them. I love it when
he calls me that; it sets those butterflies into motion, making me feel light and airy. But I’m still determined to gather them all up and stuff them back in their cages.

  I snort. “Yeah, but can’t you just go online and steal the new releases and watch them from home?”

  He reaches over and pinches me, not hard, more of a way to feel my skin. “I don’t steal movies, Allie. That’s a federal crime. You can go to prison for doing that shit.” His voice is quiet when he says it, but his lips are quirking up in the corners.

  I roll myself off the couch, landing on the floor, looking up at him, dumbfounded, while he watches me.

  “Oh. My. God. Did you just make a joke?” I stutter, laughter bubbling its way out of me. “Who are you?”

  He smiles a sheepish little smile, and oh, that is the smile that I love. I want to find a way to make that smile show up every day, all the time. Until I realize what I’m thinking, as if we actually have a future. He must have had a similar thought, because he stops smiling as well.

  We stare at each other, letting our eyes speak what we both refuse to admit. This is hopeless, and we both know it.

  Chapter 35

  Lucas

  Tonight’s the night. It has to be. If I stay any longer, I’m not sure I’ll be able to leave. Plus I’ve worked her up for so long, she’s probably about to bust. But tonight, she’s going to get her reward. Just as I am. But first, I’m going to tease her body and drive her so insane with lust she’ll be begging me to let her come. Begging so hard that she’ll give up the money for it. Then finally—finally—we can be done with this.

  And then what, my heart—and dick—ask me. Like they don’t know the answer. That the answer is nothing. Nothing is going to happen once I get the money and let her come…nothing except leave.

  I’ve been trying for days to talk myself out of this. Or rather, I’ve been trying to convince myself that we can keep going like we have been. I’m the one who’s been dragging this out. I can keep on dragging it out if I wanted. Hell, I could make it so I never have to leave.

  But that’s a lie, and reality is knocking. Work needs me to the point where I can’t put it off much longer. And I can’t keep pretending that Allie and I are something more than what we are. I have to cut this dream short and get us back to reality.

  Which will be easy to do after tonight. She’ll never forgive me for what I’m about to do. But god, the if only scenarios that run through my brain. I can’t help but think if only I’d told her that I was falling for her, that I’d let her go by begging her to stay. If only I could take her back to my house after tonight and lock her away until she forgives me and falls in love with me.

  Like I’m falling in love with her.

  Because that’s what this is. What it’s been all along.

  I look at her as she laughs at something on TV. I wanted to watch her, not the film. She’s so beautiful. She always has been, even when she was Rubenesque, wearing nothing but my shirt and a sheet. She was my goddess then, and she’s my goddess now. Whether she’s draped in a sheet and sitting in my dining room, or dressed in sweaty exercise clothes lying on her couch, she’s captivating.

  She calls me out about holding her hostage, but she just doesn’t see it. All this time, she’s believe she’s the captive. But it wasn’t her that was captured. It was me.

  It has always been me.

  Allie

  Once the movie is over, we go get some takeout and take it back to the apartment to eat. Then it’s quick showers, first for him, and then he lets me take one with a reminder not to touch myself. It’s tempting, the idea of disobeying him. I need to come so badly, I feel like there’s a keg of gunpowder between my legs, ready to go off at the faintest spark.

  I behave though, mainly because I want Lucas to be the one to give me the orgasm. My fingers have had years of giving me pleasure. Lucas has worked me into this frenzy, so he’s the one I want to strike the match.

  I finish up in the shower, but it’s a little early still for bed. When I walk to the living room, Lucas is sitting on the couch with his arms spread across the back. He’s handsome as sin, and twice as sexy. His eyes burn as they watch me.

  “Take your clothes off,” he commands, just like that.

  I look at him and feel something unsettle in my gut. He’s ominous, almost cold, like he is when he’s furious.

  I hesitate, not sure what it is I’m sensing and definitely not liking it.

  “What are you doing?” I ask him. I thought this was going to be fun, and right now, this is feeling like anything but fun.

  He puts a hand to his lap and presses against his fly. “What do you think, princess?”

  Heat zips through my body in seconds. He hasn’t touched me all day, which has kept me on edge. I feel myself start to heat at the thought of his hands on me. I know I won’t be able to stop tonight though, so I tell him.

  “I can’t take any more teasing. If you touch me, you’re going to let me come,” I tell him, amazed at the words that come out of my mouth. “Enough is enough.”

  His eyes smolder even hotter at my defiance. “You’ll get what you want, Allie, as long as I get what I want,” he says, making me pause. “Now take off your clothes.”

  I don’t want to do it in the middle of the room where it’s still light outside. I feel too exposed. He leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees. “Allie,” he tells me in that deep, husky voice. “I need you to do what I said before I go crazy.” He pauses, his eyes pleading with mine to obey him in this.

  It’s because of that look that I do what he wants, taking off my cami and leggings.

  “Come here,” he says, smiling that evil smile as he watches me move to him while his hungry eyes devour me.

  But that smile doesn’t reach his eyes, making me nervous. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says. He leans forward and begins pinching my nipples, playing with them, getting them hard, making them beg.

  “These fucking tits. There’s not a man in the world who wouldn’t want to suck these tits.” He takes his eyes off my breasts and looks at me.

  “Don’t make me wait any longer,” I whisper. “Please, Lucas.”

  “Oh princess, I’m afraid we’re just getting started. And in case you haven’t figured this out yet, you’re not going to come until I let you. Is that understood?”

  I want and I don’t want. I love this and I don’t love this. Do I trust him? Do I give him this? I’m not really sure. In the end, despite my misgivings, I nod. “Yes, sir.” As it always has before, the sir slips out without intention.

  He smiles at me, easing my mind. “That’s my good girl.” He gets up and puts a chair from the kitchen in front of where he’s sitting, then tells me to sit down. I do as he says, looking at him across from me.

  Grabbing a scarf I hadn’t noticed, he puts each wrist on the back posts of the chair, weaving the scarf deftly to secure them. Then he grabs my knee to tie it back to the same back posts.

  “What are you doing?” This will open me up in the crudest of ways.

  Instead of being angry at my outburst, he sits down and caresses my cheek. I lean into this touch because I’m dying for it. His voice is tender, sincere.

  “It’s playing, Allie,” he tells me. “I’ve dreamed of tying you up like this. Please let me…” He’s endearing—supplicatory even—that I give in without any thought.

  The position makes my legs lift and spread in a wide, lewd manner. After he’s secured both knees, he ties my ankles to the rungs of the chair.

  He’s tied me so that I’m on display for him, every part of me open and viewable. There are no more secret hollows secreted beneath silk and lace. My holes are right there. One is pink, the other more brownish. The pink one is leaking tears of want that ooze down to moisten the tighter, less-pink hole.

  The whole thing makes me hugely uncomfortable, but more than that, insanely hot.

  He stands back to look at his handiwork, making me feel like an object for his s
ole pleasure. It disturbs me how much my body loves this, loves him watching me. He leans down and grabs my hips, pulling them forward until I’m closer to the edge of the seat. Then, to my shock, he spreads my lips apart, looking at me, getting to his knees like I’m a sacrificial lamb on an altar.

  “Look how pink you are,” he murmurs, his gaze locked between my thighs. “Do you know how desperate men are for this? How hungry for that bright pink you’ve got all tucked away and hidden? We sell our souls to get inside of that. I’d sell mine for yours…”

  He leans in and licks me, moaning as he tastes me. “You’re so wet, Allie. There’s so much of it, you’re going to start dripping onto the chair soon.” His eyes burn. “That’s how I’ll know you’re ready. When I see your juice running down your ass onto that chair, I’ll untie you and fuck your brains out. All night, Allie, all fucking night. You won’t believe how hard you’re going to come.”

  He’s teasing me with his words, tormenting me with his closeness, but he won’t touch me where I need him the most. I squirm in the chair, fighting against his words because I need it now. I need him to touch me.

  “Lucas, please, don’t make me wait any longer,” I beg him. “Please!”

  He gives me an evil chuckle. “Oh princess, we’re just getting started. I’m going to play with you until you’re out of your fucking mind. And trust me, you’re not there yet. You’re not even close.”

  Tears of frustration spring to my eyes. “Why are you still doing this to me?”

  He leans up till we’re nose to nose. “Because you let me.” Then he goes down to my pussy, blowing on it, giving me just enough sensation to feel it but nothing near what I need to make it feel good. He bites and kisses and licks all around it—my thighs, my crease, my half-moon cheeks—but never on it. His tongue swirls on my skin like it will on my clit, and I can’t keep my hips from trying to thrust forward, trying to catch that tongue.

  “Fuck yeah, baby, fuck yeah. Look at you.” And he does. He stares at my pussy with its glossy coating, then looks at my face, seeing my misery.