by A. J. Norris
Fucking Charity.
I watched her closely as she blew the man a kiss and headed toward the bathroom. I’d been around her long enough to feel sorry for the poor asshole. He smiled as he followed her swinging ass down the hallway, but I knew that’d be the last he’d see of her.
One wallet richer, she was already scoping her next mark, and he’d be nursing a wicked case of blue balls all night.
“So what’s your story, Matthew?”
Matthew?
Furrowing my brow, I glanced at the redhead staring at me with vodka swimming in her green eyes. Christ, I needed a notepad to start keeping this shit straight. “What story, baby?”
I called her baby because I swear I couldn’t recall her name if she held a gun to my head.
“Your story. You said you were a lawyer.”
I did? Shit. Luckily the woman was one drink away from falling off the bar stool. She held her vodka with her thumb and forefinger, swinging it around to emphasize every third word. Her dark-colored lipstick smeared to one side, and she stared more at my forehead than she did my eyes.
I think her name was Nina.
“Another drink?” I asked, motioning to the bartender without waiting for a response. She nodded, her head wobbling unsteadily on her neck.
Hmmm, maybe it was Nita.
This was so easy I should’ve been ashamed of myself. Taking advantage of a target so drunk didn’t pose any sort of a challenge and left me unsatisfied with no buzz or high at the end of a successful lift. I hated those and usually avoided them.
But with a bet on my hands, and Charity dressed like sin, beggars couldn’t be choosers. I had a point to make and a debt to collect. Charity St. James would be in my bed and hate herself for loving every minute of it. So, for tonight I’d bend my own rules, take what Nina or Nita or whatever the hell her name was had to offer, and collect the reward I’d been waiting forever to enjoy.
I ran my fingers across Nina/Nita’s neck, feeling for the clasp on her emerald necklace. Of course, she took it as an invitation to grab my thigh. Even if I’d made it a practice to sleep with my marks, the woman did nothing for me. Still, I wasn’t about to lose what looked to be a necklace worth about a couple grand, so I smiled and shifted to keep her nails away from going for more.
“What I want to drink isn’t on the menu here,” she slurred, her hand slipping off my thigh as the vodka hit her all at once. She lost her balance, forcing her to grab onto the bar with both hands. “My place isn’t far.”
Nina/Nita stared at me like the last steak at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I knew I looked good. I knew my pants fit just right, and my shirt was unbuttoned just enough to entice, yet not seem too forward. Unattainable yet irresistible. Cocky? Maybe, but I’d been around the block long enough to know what women wanted and how to manipulate them. Call me heartless, but I liked to eat on a regular basis and have a roof over my head every night. It wasn’t her fault she drank enough for three women and would wake up tomorrow with one hell of a hangover and wiped clean of all her shit. That’s what the buddy system was designed for…and Nina/Nita was the gazelle that strayed from the pack.
Poor gazelle. Lucky me.
“Why don’t you just let me call you a cab? You’ve had too much to drink already.”
“Nope,” she argued, popping the “p” at the end of the word and smearing the other side of her lipstick with the back of her hand. “Just getting started. And right now, I want to fuck.”
And right now, I want a million dollars and to be balls deep in Charity’s pussy. We don’t always get what we want, sweetheart.
Ten minutes later, I’d stuffed Nina/Nita’s drunk ass in a cab and sent her to sleep off what would undoubtedly be a massive hangover. With her hands off me, and Charity off to parts unknown, I could concentrate on other targets. I was determined to ensure the end of the night ended the way I wanted it to. Still smelling her perfume on my clothes did nothing for my concentration level as mark after mark, I fought to keep my focus on the job and off ripping the sequins off Charity’s dress.
With my pockets filled and my confidence high, I decided to call it a night close to one-fifteen. In a good mood for once, I paid my tab and left a hefty tip when the entrance of the club filled with a uniformed police officer and the man I remembered Charity hanging around at Suede. They talked seriously with the doorman as the guy Charity called Paul waved his hands frantically, somehow his face both pale and flaming red at the same time.
Fuck was he pissed.
With police on the scene, I needed to get the hell out, but my conscience and a deep-rooted worry for Charity’s safety negated all good sense. Before I could stop myself, I’d walked from the bar to the entrance, cursing myself the whole way.
I just need to hear what they’re saying…
“Excuse me, sir?” I froze as a uniformed hand stopped me and held onto my wrist. It wasn’t the first time I’d been stopped by a cop, and it wouldn’t be the last. I’d seen more than my fair share of the inside of a jail cell, but I had enough stolen shit on me tonight to put me away longer than I cared to consider.
Plus, I had somewhere to be and a debt to collect.
“Yes?” I managed to ask calmly.
What if Nina/Nita came back, realizing in her drunk-ass state I’d robbed her blind? Or what if Mindy went to the bathroom in a herd of females and saw her earrings gone? One check of my pockets and I’d be fucked beyond belief.
“I think he was there,” Paul insisted, pointing an insistent finger in my direction.
I tuned him out and addressed the officer. “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”
“Sir,” the officer began, holding a hand in front of Paul’s face. “There’s been a string of thefts in a few clubs tonight and this man was one of the victims. He claims a woman took his money and valuables. The trail led us here. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about her, would you?” He described Charity down to the star-shaped birthmark on her neck.
I shot Paul a look for being that damn close to her. “Nope,” I assured them. “I don’t remember anyone with that description.” I held my breath, knowing whatever happened in the next thirty seconds would determine the next twenty-to-life for me.
After being asked for identification, I produced one of the fifteen Florida driver’s licenses I carried for emergencies. I just hoped to hell he didn’t ask me any information that was on it. Hell if I remember which one I’d grabbed before walking out the door tonight.
After a few tense moments of glancing from the ID to my face, the officer nodded, much to Paul’s frustration. “Okay, Mr. Kingston, you have yourself a good night, sir, and watch out for your valuables.”
You’d better believe it.
I nodded to both men and left the bar, knowing exactly where I was headed. Once I returned to the room I’d rented for the night, I planned to trade in a couple necklaces for some quick cash.
I’d need something to bail Charity out of jail.
Chapter Five
Charity
Ripping off the dress from hell, I threw it on the floor, followed by a few choice curse words that it absolutely deserved for almost busting me. With more care, I sat down on the bed of the Fallon hotel, running my fingers over the softest sheets I’d ever felt. Thanking Paul for the incredible night’s sleep I knew I’d have, I slid back further on the bed and carefully removed my boots, reaching in and pulling out handfuls of my hard work. As I grabbed handfuls of cash, I laughed to myself and placed them strategically over my naked body while reclining against the pillows.
Well, it was a better night than I thought.
A couple more watches from lonely unsuspecting men, and I’d had enough of the Spencer and Lucy show. Seriously. If that red-headed woman couldn’t hold her liquor, she had no business being in a bar. In my opinion, she deserved to lose the necklace and any other shit he chose to take from her.
After lifting my current target’s wallet, I excused myself, shifting my sta
nce to avoid stepping on the face of a Rolex that had worked its way down the length of my Louboutins and under my heel. Ignoring Spencer and the redhead, I’d limped across the length of the club toward the front door when I saw him.
At first he seemed alone, his hands shoved nervously in his pockets, shifting his weight back and forth as his sweaty palm raked through his thinning hair over and over. I’d almost felt sorry for the poor bastard until I saw the man behind him step forward, and then all the alcohol in my stomach curdled and sloshed with a surge of acid that threatened to bubble up my throat.
Apparently, Paul wasn’t a man to take his losses and live to fight another day. He wanted revenge, and wanted it tonight. Unless I wanted to end up sleeping on a rock-hard mattress in a cell downtown, I had to get the hell out of the club without being seen. Giving one last look at Spencer, I’d given about a three-second consideration to asking him for help before rejecting the idea just as fast. I wouldn’t have put it past the bastard to have busted me in the first place just to win the bet. I was better off on my own.
“Asshole,” I muttered, breaking out of my thoughts and stretching out on the bed.
A click in the door commanded my attention as two clicks later it swung open wide and bounced against the door guard behind it. Espresso-brown eyes slanted then widened as they took me in with interest, shock, and intrigue. The look on Spencer’s face made every close call I had and every sequin I lost completely worth the effort. He stood half inside his hotel room and half out, with his mouth hanging open like he’d been punched in the stomach.
I guess in a way he had.
His fingers tightened around the doorknob as his throat worked hard in his neck. “What are you doing in here, Charity?”
“Waiting for you, lover.”
His lip quirked up in amusement, accenting a small scar over the left corner. “Does this mean you’re admitting defeat?”
“What do you think?”
“I think they were out for your blood down there. How’d you get away?”
Picking up a handful of twenty-dollar bills from my bare chest, I fanned them in front of my face and smiled. “I blew a cop.”
Crossing his arms, he arched an eyebrow and shifted his hip into the door frame.
“Fine,” I admitted, rolling my eyes. “I made a few friends in the kitchen on my way out.” He continued to stare at me in disbelief. Extending my arms behind me, I groaned and lifted myself up on my palms. “I can be convincing when I want to be, Spence. I told them some guy wouldn’t leave me alone and I needed a way out of the back. I had to hide my score, all right? I had so much shit shoved into my boots, I looked deformed.”
Keeping his eyebrow lifted, Spencer shifted his gaze toward my discarded Louboutins on the hotel room floor and then back to my naked body.
“Would you like to check where?” I taunted, throwing the wad of cash across the room while running my left toe down the length of my right leg. His hooded eyes bounced between my body and the cash, seemingly not sure which one should rank higher. A surge of fire incinerated my good mood, and I narrowed my eyes in irritation. “Really, Spencer? Is it that hard of a decision? Because there were at least five men tonight who would’ve paid me for the opportunity.” A smug smile played across my lips as I nodded toward the cash. “In a way, they kind of did.”
Slamming the door loud enough to jar the room, Spencer crossed the floor to the bed in two long, predatory strides. Placing his palms flat on the bed, he leaned over me, his breath hot on my chest the entire time he scanned his eyes down the length of my body. Every inch of my skin burned as his tongue darted out, licking his lips while his hot gaze passed over my belly button. Closing my eyes, I waited for the moment his mouth touched me…anticipated it more than I cared to admit, and when it never came, I popped an eye open and shot him a hardened glare.
“Really?” If looks could kill, Spencer would have been incinerated into a cloud of dust. I acted like I had it all together, and most of the time I did. However, Spencer was the only man on earth who had the power to make me feel unwanted…vulnerable even.
I hated vulnerability.
“And is one of these five men going to pay for this room, or are they unknowingly pooling their pathetic resources?” he mocked with an amused tone. “We still have the matter of a bet to settle. You still remember, don’t you, Charity? You’re not looking to renege, are you?”
“Oh, ye of little faith.” I gave him a low tsk in his ear and pulled away. “You should know me better than that, Spencer.”
With a slight tilt of his chin, he offered that boyish grin that had kept him out of the unemployment line since he’d been deemed a legal adult. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s your payout, St. James?”
With twenty-dollar bills falling all around me, I reached for a discarded boot and dumped the rest of the contents onto the bed. One by one, I picked up the items and waved them in his face. “Well, beyond the three hundred in cash, which would’ve been four had you not conned me out of a hundred at Suede, I’ve got two Rolexes, a MasterCard, a Visa, and some gold ring that I’m fairly certain I just lifted off a member of the Miami mafia.” With a smug grin, I nodded to his pockets. “Your turn.”
He pulled away and looked at me, his eyes glowing, a devilish grin wiping across his face. A feeling I didn’t like swirled in my chest. I heaved a sigh, knowing more lay behind that grin than amusement. Instead of asking him to elaborate again, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him, waiting for him to drop the hammer.
“Well, beyond Mindy’s earrings and the redhead’s emerald necklace,” he said, dropping the jewels on the mattress beside me and pulling something else out of his pocket. “Don’t forget about the little matter of the AmEx Black—”
“That’s unusable,” I argued. “You trumped that one before the bet was issued, therefore it’s inadmissible.”
That’s when the asshole pulled something out of his other pocket and held up a card in each hand. “Not when you have two.”
“Where did you get two?”
“Not important.”
“The hell it’s not!”
“It’s not,” he argued. “The point is, we both know I won, and now you’re going to pay up.”
“Spence—” I never got the rest of my sentence out. His mouth absorbed the rest of my words, swallowing them along with my sanity. Licking along the seam of my lips, he invaded and demanded an answer. Soft kisses gave way to deep plunges of his tongue as he consumed me like he was a starving man and I was his last meal.
After driving me dizzy and half-crazed with need, he pulled back, his lips still hovering over mine and his hand cupped around my throat. “Five men, Charity? Not one of them had better have laid a hand on you.”
“Why? Are you staking your claim?” I asked breathlessly.
His only answer was to sweep the contents off the bed to the floor and knock me backward until our bodies were flush and connected in a bruising and punishing kiss. My thoughts were simultaneously all over the place and nonexistent at the same time. Spencer was a man possessed, the wild glint in his eyes either fueled by victory or lust…I didn’t care.
Hooking a hand under each of my arms, he hoisted me up and pinned me against the headboard. “Am I staking my claim? The short answer, Charity? Yes. Right now.” Still holding me up, he slowly allowed me to slide down his body toward the mattress. The friction of our bodies rubbing together sparked a fire that made me cry out.
God, the fire in his eyes…the crazed look of passion pierced straight through me. The staring damn near killed me. His eyes perused from my face down the length of my body again before his lips parted. Flames sparked hot and white from the top of my head down to my toes as he devoured my neck, then pushed his kisses lower and lower, brushing them across my chest and delving in the valley between my breasts.
With clear mutual desire, he pulled me closer against him and for some reason, I felt the need to speak. “I’m not some stupid prize, Spence
r.”
He pulled back slightly, and even in the dimly lit room, I saw the gold glimmer of his coffee-colored eyes dancing in the moonlight as he growled in a low tone. “This isn't just about a bet, Charity. This is more than a conquest. This is me wanting you for so fucking long it hurts.”
With a deep-rooted groan, he returned kisses to my neck and I surrendered, throwing my head back to invite him in. His lips traveled lower as they skimmed and teased already anticipatory nipples. A sharp gasp escaped my mouth as I bit my lip hard to keep from screaming.
Fuck, I want him.
“I want you too,” I admitted without restraint. I was too far gone to care about maintaining my carefully constructed persona. Screw my persona. All I could concentrate on was Spencer and his mouth.
Reaching forward, I grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head, throwing it in the corner beside all my shit. After running my hands over his chest, I stopped to linger around his stomach. The man was abnormally perfect.
“Charity,” he groaned, and I could see in his face that he wasn’t tolerating much more exploring….and honestly, neither was I. The need was too strong.
Placing strategic kisses around his chest, I slid my hands down the indentations of his waist and hovered at the top of his pants. With confident fingers, I made quick work of every barrier between us as a low groan rumbled from his chest. Unable to resist, I feathered my fingernails down his ass with one hand while stroking him with the other. His hips jerked just the way I knew they would. Spencer might be one of a kind, but in bed, men were all the same.
The minute I glanced up and looked at him under lustful lashes, I knew that was all the control he’d allow me.
“Enough,” he commanded, pulling my hand away and pinning it above my head. There was nothing gentle about the look in Spencer’s eyes. It dripped with hunger, and I shivered under his glare.