Still a Thief

by Doreen DeSalvo

  When he released her, she laughed breathlessly. “Hello to you, too.”

  “Hey.”

  He didn’t say anything more until they were inside. “Show me what you plan to wear to dinner.”

  Jake, interested in her clothes? She wanted him to rip them off, not inspect them. She led him to the bedroom, half expecting him to throw her on the bed. She wouldn’t object. Or rather, she’d pretend she objected. Maybe he’d tie her to the bedposts again.

  He mutely followed her to the closet. Clothes for tonight? She hadn’t thought about anything beyond peeling off her sweaty suit. A shower sounded better than getting dressed again, and sex sounded better still. But he wasn’t making any moves, and nerves kept her from jumping him. He didn’t seem like the type who wanted a woman to be aggressive.

  Since he wasn’t talking, she sifted through the dresses in her closet. Too formal. Too businesslike. And boring him while he waited wasn’t getting her any closer to sex. She pulled out the first casual dress she found, a summery floral with a wrap bodice that showed more cleavage than anything else she owned.

  His brows rose in a skeptical look. “I don’t think so.”

  For a guy who probably didn’t own a suit, he sure was picky. “You decide for me, then. I’m going to take a quick shower.” She tugged off her suit jacket and tossed it in the hamper she used for dry cleaning.

  Jake ignored her. From the closet, she heard hangers moving from side to side.

  Even after she was naked, he didn’t make a move. “You have five minutes,” he muttered, not bothering to turn around.

  Great. Here she stood naked, and he was more interested in playing with her clothes than her body? She headed for the shower in a huff.

  The hot spray soothed tension away along with sweat and dust. Maybe this was for the best. Once she was clean, she’d feel sexier. Tossing her head back, she let the water sluice down her front, picturing Jake’s hands following the same path. But no, he didn’t seem to be joining her in the bathroom.

  Five minutes? She wasn’t one to fuss endlessly in the shower, but five minutes was a lot faster than usual. She hurried through washing her hair and soaping up in record time.

  She dried off and wrapped a towel around herself. Drying her hair alone took two minutes, but she couldn’t go out with it wet. Maybe he’d come in and punish her if she was late.

  A blush heated her face. Two spankings in one day? Embarrassing how that got her juices flowing. Thank goodness no one else knew about her…tendencies. Kinky sex in private was one thing, but they’d been playing with fire in her office. No matter how much Jake pressured her, she wouldn’t do that again. Regardless of what he said, there were limits.

  She slowly ran the brush through her hair, deliberately waiting, taking her time curling the ends into a bouncing wave. Tempting fate.

  Minutes passed. No Jake.

  When she finally gave up and padded barefoot into the bedroom, Jake was sitting on the overstuffed reading chair in the corner, one foot propped on the opposite knee, watching the door. “You’re late.” His voice was tight with displeasure.

  Her heart sped up. Dropping her gaze to the carpet, she almost scuffed her toe like a disobedient child. “I’m sorry.”

  “Get dressed.”

  No punishment? Surprised, she looked up ‑‑ and saw the clothes he’d laid out on her comforter. “Jake, I can’t wear that.”

  He raised a brow. “Then why do you have it?”

  The towel slipped, and she grabbed it closed at her breastbone. “It was a gag gift from a friend. When I turned thirty, she gave it to me and told me to lighten up.”

  He smirked and crossed his meaty arms across his chest. “I think she was on to something. Haven’t you worn it before?”

  As if that made a difference. “Of course not.”

  “Put it on.” With one step, he towered over her, gazing down into her face with hooded brown eyes. “Put it on for me.”

  Seductive words. When Jake gave her orders, all she wanted to do was obey. No questions asked. Yes, she’d put the thing on ‑‑ for him.

  With a breathless nod, she turned to the bed and sorted through the clothes for panties. No panties. No bra. He hadn’t left out any undergarments at all. Did that mean she wasn’t to wear any?

  No clue from looking at his expressionless face. She crossed to her bureau and pulled out a pair of bikini undies. Jake didn’t protest. She slowly slipped them on under the towel, then reached for the clothes on the bed. The black skirt was impossibly short, the kind of mini only a woman with legs like Twiggy could wear. On her, it would look indecent. Maybe he just wanted her to wear this here, in her bedroom ‑‑ until he ripped it off.

  She could go for that.

  Time to show him she could keep him as hot as he kept her. Getting dressed could be as sexy as getting undressed. She turned her back to him so he’d have a good view of her rear end, then let the towel slither to the floor. Pointing her toe, she stepped into the tiny circle of fabric that passed for a skirt, pulling it up while shimmying her hips.

  The Spandex was tight and clingy, gripping her upper thighs and bottom like rubber. She didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that every bump showed. Oh well, too late to stop now. In private like this, it didn’t matter.

  He’d pulled out a pair of wicked heels, the pair that should have come with a warning label that read “take two ibuprofen with a glass of wine before wearing.” She’d bought them because they made her calves look sexy, but had never worn them out of the store. Must have been hormonal that day.

  She sat on the bed and slid her feet into them. At least they didn’t pinch her toes, but standing in them was out of the question. Best to stay seated for now; falling off her heels onto her face wasn’t a great seduction plan. When Jake was ready, he could help her up ‑‑ and then throw her back onto the bed.

  Her lips curved. She’d had more sex in the past two days than she’d had in years. And never had she enjoyed it so much.

  The only other thing on the bed was a silk camisole. Naturally he’d found the most revealing one she owned, with a deep V neck and a flimsy little shelf bra. She’d have to stand up to get a real bra. She shifted her weight and carefully stood, teetering on the heels for a moment before taking a step towards her dresser.

  “No.”

  She blinked and met his gaze in the mirror over her bureau. “No bra?”

  “No bra.”

  With breasts as large as hers, she’d been wearing bras since age ten. No way could he expect her to go out with her breasts unbound. Maybe he just had a fetish for seeing her in trampy clothes. No point in protesting when the end result would be a rousing good orgasm.

  She slipped the camisole over her head and smoothed the fabric over her abdomen. Yep, the lace trim barely covered her nipples. She always wore it under a blouse.

  Better not look in the mirror. In such skimpy clothes, with every curve of her body outlined and emphasized, she felt more exposed than when she’d been naked.

  Maybe Jake wanted to pretend she was a hooker. He’d talked about hiring one now that he was out of prison…the kind of woman he could pay to do anything. For some reason, he hadn’t found one. Yet.

  And he never would, not if she had a say in it. One thing she wouldn’t tolerate was infidelity. She’d have to keep him too busy to shop elsewhere.

  Did he find her sexy in this getup? Still shaky on the heels, she carefully turned to face him.

  As usual, his expression was impossible to read. Why wait for him to make the first move? With careful steps, she walked over to his chair and sat down in his lap. Wrapping one hand around the back of his neck, she toyed with the hair at his nape. “Did you save some for me?”

  A soft laugh chuffed out of his chest. “Oh, yeah.” One hand wandered up her leg from knee to thigh.

  Shamelessly, she parted her legs. His fingers inched higher, until they barely brushed the edge of her panties ‑‑ then stopped. Damn him.
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  “Pose for me.”

  She blinked and resisted the urge to ask, What? She’d heard him the first time. And if that’s what it took to get him horny, it was easy enough.

  Trying for a sexy exit, she swung one leg high and used the momentum to propel herself off his lap. The heels were still precarious, but she managed to stand and walk a few feet away.

  Before she could turn, he spoke. “Stop there. Now bend over.”

  With her back to him? Well, obviously. He did have a bit of an ass fetish ‑‑ and she’d reaped a lot of pleasure from it. She bent forward from the waist, putting her hands to her knees like a bikini-clad woman on a cheesy old French postcard. For good measure, she hiked one hip higher than the other. The skirt was so short, he could probably see a huge amount of her behind. Who cared? They were alone.

  “Move your legs apart.”

  In the outrageous heels, she had to straighten first, move her feet apart, then bend over again.

  Before she knew what was happening, Jake was on his knees behind her, pressing his face into her crotch from behind. His breath felt hotter than sin on her pussy, scorching her with each exhalation. Thank goodness she’d showered ‑‑ she’d feel too self-conscious for this otherwise. When he moved his mouth back and forth, nudging his way deeper, the masculine stubble on his cheeks abraded her thighs in a way that set her heart racing. She’d fall over in a second.

  Then a strong tongue reached out and pushed the crotch of her panties to the side, licking underneath. She moaned and reached for the bed. Too far. But if she moved, he’d stop. She knew that somehow. Bracing her hands on her knees again, she held on for balance.

  Relentlessly, he licked deeper. Her panties were already soaked, but he kept licking, pushing his way into her body, retreating to flick the tip against her clit.

  “Oh!” She bent over further, opening herself more. Her legs trembled with the effort of staying in such an awkward position, and she swayed back into his face.

  He laughed against her pussy. She didn’t care. As undignified as the position was, the pleasure of his tongue made it all worthwhile.

  A blast of cold air chilled her sex when he pulled away. With one finger, he snapped her panties against her crotch.

  Her lower back cramped for a second when she stood. She reached out to him, but he took a step away.

  “Let’s go.”

  Her jaw dropped. How could he bring her to this point and then not satisfy her? “Don’t you want to…”

  He scowled. “You can fuck me half blind, but you can’t say the word?”

  If that’s what it took…She licked her lips. “Don’t you want to fuck me?” Her voice was breathless and a little wounded. Didn’t he want her?

  “Not right now. Let’s go out to dinner first.”

  Dressed like this? “You can’t be serious.”

  He sighed. “You say that to me a lot, Kate. I don’t ever want to hear it again.”

  She waved one hand, aimlessly indicating her jiggling breasts, her exposed legs. “I can’t go out like this.”

  His answer was a raised eyebrow. “Don’t test me. I’ll drag you out if I have to.”

  He had to be kidding. “I’m not built like a model, Jake. I’ll be too uncomfortable without a bra.” Not to mention without a decent amount of leg coverage.

  One strong hand reached out and cupped her breast. His thumb rubbed back and forth over the nipple, and she bit her tongue to hold in the moan.

  “No, you’re definitely not built like a model.” His lips lowered to her ear. “You won’t need a bra. You’ll have my hands holding you in.”

  Her mouth went dry. Why couldn’t she think of anything to say?

  Hot breath rushed over her earlobe. “I want every man in the restaurant to envy me, Kate. I want them all to look at you and get hard-ons. I want them to go home and jerk off, thinking about you ‑‑ knowing I’m fucking you and they aren’t.”

  What a fantasy. She’d never been the type to show off her cleavage before, preferring a man who wanted her mind more than her body. But Jake…Jake made her want to be a pure and total sex object. The kind of woman every man lusted over.

  But this was too close to nakedness. If she couldn’t hold her head up proudly, she wouldn’t look sexy no matter what she wore.

  Maybe she could cover up a bit so that no one noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra. Without moving, she spoke into his shoulder. “It’s chilly out. At least let me put a jacket on.” She’d pick a long one, to cover her legs a bit.

  “All right.” He went to the closet and pulled out a pale blue silk blazer. Leave it to Jake to choose the sexiest coat in her wardrobe. The thing didn’t even have buttons to hold it closed.

  He held it out, almost the perfect gentleman, and she slipped her arms into the sleeves. The brush of cool silk on her bare arms raised a few goosebumps. The simple jacket was too short to cover any more of her legs than the skimpy skirt did, but the peaked lapels made it look refined. Underneath, the camisole almost seemed elegant instead of trampy. Her legs were still bare, but most of her cleavage was concealed.

  Yes, this was as much of a stretch for her as she dared. She tilted her head back and smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

  He smiled back. “See? I can compromise sometimes.”

  She reached out to take his arm, but he moved too fast. Without warning, he bent suddenly and groped under her skirt. Was he going to take her to bed after all?

  His fingers stroked up her thighs, then down ‑‑ taking her panties with them. Tearing fabric rent the silence. God, he’d torn off another pair of her underwear!

  With an unrepentant grin, he tossed the ruined cloth over one shoulder. It didn’t make a sound when it hit the carpet.

  Hands on hips, she glared at him. “Must you tear up all of my panties? You could have told me not to put them on in the first place, Jake.”

  He put his hands over hers, then stroked down her backside. “Yeah, but this was more fun.”

  Without underpants, she felt even more naked. The skirt was so short, she’d have to be careful not to flash anyone. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about panty lines. Still…who was he, to treat her this way? “Look, Jake. I don’t have an endless supply of underclothes. The next time you don’t want me to wear something, ask me to take it off.”

  His wandering hand stilled. “Are you giving me an order?”

  She didn’t want to fight with him, she really didn’t. “No. I’m making a request.”

  He laughed.

  Of all the rude, arrogant ‑‑

  “I’ll think about it.”

  That was the most consideration she was likely to get from Jake Monroe. How much longer was she willing to put up with this treatment?

  A sharp slap on her behind made her gasp. In the precarious high heels, she had to clutch at his arm to keep from falling.

  “That’s for taking so long to shower.”

  A second slap heated her bottom even more. “That’s for arguing with me over your damned panties.”

  Her ass lifted, craving another, and moisture pooled between the lips of her sex. Well, there was her answer. She’d put up with a lot to get this kind of treatment.

  He gave her bottom a soft pat, then another. More of a caress than a punishment. “You want more, don’t you?”

  Breathless, she nodded. “Please.” The word was a whisper.

  “Not now, baby.” He stroked down over her ass, until his fingers met the hem of the skirt ‑‑ not a far distance. “If you behave yourself during dinner, then maybe later.”

  “How…how should I behave?” Was that little whimper really her voice? Her, a respected member of the District Attorney’s office, a self-made woman, timorously asking a man like Jake Monroe how she should behave?

  His smile was somehow tender, as if he enjoyed her concern. “I’ll tell you later. And if you don’t listen…” The words trailed off. His fingers teased along the front of her thighs, edging the skirt hi
gher. Then suddenly his hand left her, and he took her elbow to lead her out of the room.

  “If I don’t listen?” she prompted.

  “If you don’t listen, I’ll give you a hell of a lot more than a spanking.”

  Her clit tingled. God help her, she wanted more.

  But if Jake thought he had the upper hand, he was mistaken. He might be giving the orders, but he needed her to play along. No matter what he did, how far he pushed her, she’d only give in when it suited her.

  The real power would be hers.

  Chapter Nine

  She looked hotter than a supermodel, and he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Reluctant to break contact for even a minute, he put the palm of his hand against her lower back when they walked across the parking lot toward the restaurant. A subtle mark of his possession.

  Her fingers gripped his arm for balance. How the hell did she walk on those stilts? As long as they kept her clinging to him, he didn’t care. Ever since he’d run into her last night ‑‑ such a surprise, seeing Kate after all those years ‑‑ he’d felt second class next to her. But not tonight. Tonight he’d show her he was her equal.

  And he didn’t need to dominate her to do it.

  No, the domination was something else. Something more visceral. It might be a little twisted, but it was what he needed. What Kate needed. He’d never been more certain of anything in his life.

  As they entered the restaurant, Kate pulled the lapels of her jacket together, but that didn’t do much to hide the luscious cleavage underneath. She might be wearing the sluttiest clothes outside of a Broadway strip club, but nothing could hide her essential elegance. From the sweep of her silky hair to the perfectly manicured red nails on her feet, every inch of this woman screamed quality.

  Amazing that such a beautiful woman would hold her head up high and walk beside him into a restaurant. Even if she only held his arm for balance, it was still a public declaration of sorts.

  The maitre d’ kept a stone face when he saw them.

  Jake pressed a ten into the guy’s hand. “Monroe. A quiet table for two. Very quiet.”