Stolen: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (Heists & Hearts Book 1)

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Stolen: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (Heists & Hearts Book 1) Page 1

by Callahan, Roxy




  Copyright 2016 Roxy Callahan

  All rights reserved.

  The characters in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This book contains sexual and mature situations and is intended for readers over the age of eighteen.

  Published by Black Velvet Press

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  DIRK

  * * *

  Let me tell you a secret.

  It’s how I get what I want. The billions of dollars. The hot babes. The power.

  I want it. I get it. Always.

  I do it by giving people what they want. It isn’t difficult. Money. Sex. Power. It’s not just me that craves those things. Everyone does. The difference is that I’m willing to do the dirty work for people to get them. The things that they don’t want to do, I do. The things that they don’t even want to think about doing, I do.

  But the things they want? They’re all about that.

  I’ve lost count of the old dudes that wanted me to come in, spend tens of millions of dollars to save their failing family business, and then turn it around. That I walk away with the money I want doesn’t matter. They walk away with their own money.

  I wanted it to happen. They wanted it to happen.

  And those dirty details? The angry partners, the tightened belts, and the disrupted lives—the kind of things that only a bastard like me will do? Well, they got what they wanted, and that’s all that mattered.

  It’s the same with women.

  Like that hot piece of ass over at the bench press machine. I don’t know what she’s doing at the Dumbbell, but I’m glad she’s here. With her tits straining against her tight top while she spreads her legs for support. I want to fuck her on the bench. In the shower. On her hands and knees. Against the wall. I don’t much care. I just want to see her big tits sway as I’m doing it.

  All I have to do was to make her want it as much as I do.

  And as I said—I get what I want. Always.

  Jill

  * * *

  The hot guy at the lat machine is exactly the type I come to the Dumbbell to avoid—dark tousled hair and chiseled good looks, all accented by a smirk that screams pay attention to me. He’s clearly doing it so he can show off his body while strutting around from machine to machine. To make matters worse, it’s working, and I can’t take my eyes off him. His chest flexes as he pulls down on the weights. He six pack ripples as he stands up.

  It’s not that I don’t like eye candy—and god is he a seriously hot piece of eye candy—it’s that guys like that depress me. I don’t need that kind of temptation leading to nothing but frustration. Model dudes don’t go for my type.

  That’s why I like the Dumbbell—it is low stress for a curvy girl like me. The men are generally all about the sweat and reps and sets, and while they are all have mostly good bods, they aren’t exactly the Abercrombie & Fitch types that prowled the trendy gyms looking for some hot, skinny girl with perky tits.

  The only real downside to the Dumbbell is that a lot of my colleagues at Central Precinct work out here, and they are all total assholes. It goes way beyond hazing me as a rookie cop. It’s not even that they grab my ass or tits or make jokes about me being assigned to vice even if I’m not. No, it’s that they treat me like I’m incompetent. All because of who I am and what I look like. I deal with it the best I can, but it’s hard. Couldn’t just one guy accept me for being a good cop?

  That said, the Dumbbell is pretty chill.

  Another glance at the guy on the lat machine makes me pause. He looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place him. I sigh and turn away. A guy like that would never go for someone like me. A few minutes later I can’t help myself and look over at the eye candy and oh my god he is looking at me. Embarrassed, I quickly turn away, noticing that he is adjusting his shorts. I swear I can see his cock outlined in the material.

  Tall, gorgeous, muscular, and with a big cock? God has to be taunting me.

  DIRK

  * * *

  I’m definitely going to fuck her.

  The thing is I have no idea why the girl is even here. Not that I mind her being ten feet away from me with her legs spread while she’s on her back. It’s just that the Dumbbell is a no-nonsense working class gym that knows the importance of leaving everyone the fuck alone. I like not having to deal with hipster douchebags or silicon-inflated babes looking for a spin class. There’s nothing like the vibe of a good gym. It smells like hard work.

  So I’m curious about this girl, and that makes me want her more.

  I wonder if she is new. I normally don’t work out in the evening, so it’s possible that our paths have just never crossed. I lower the weights to the cradle and give her more attention.

  Her brown hair is pulled back in a pony tail. She looks like a college student, but there’s no college nearby, so I’m thinking she’s a recent graduate. But what does she do that brings her here? She lays back and adjusts her grip, and I get hard as her tits press together as she raises and lowers the bar.

  And as she glances nervously to the left and right, I smile.

  I know what she wants.

  JILL

  * * *

  He walks up to me, and I’m completely flustered as his cock is firm enough that I can see its length down the front of his gym shorts. “Are you going to be long?” he asks. I shake my head. We’re the only two in the gym this late, and I wonder why he doesn’t just work with free weights or another machine. He has literally the entire gym to work with, but he came to me. I don’t understand it.

  He is leaning against the machine, and his cock is probably two feet from my face. I think it’s actually gotten harder while he is standing there. I clear my throat and ask, “Would you mind moving?”

  He takes a step closer.

  I glance up at his face, and he is smiling. “So why do you work out here?” My eyes wander down to his crotch. It’s difficult not to with him so close, but I catch myself and look back up at his face.

  I answer if only to get my mind off his body. His question at least clarifies my thinking. It’s something solid I can grasp as I figure out what the fuck is going on. “It’s a place to work out, not get caught up in all the body politics of the chain gyms.”

  “Body politics?” His voice is strong and firm as he asks.

  I wonder if he is here to tease me, but something tells me I can trust him, that I can rant without any sophomoric insults or even head games. He looks like a player. He looks dangerous, even. He’s hot. And maybe that’s it—the guys who insult and tease me aren’t really the hot ones. They’re the insecure boys who wish they were hot men and feel better about it by tearing me down. The hot ones just ignore me.

  But this one isn’t ignoring me. He is gorgeous, with chiseled abs and a tight bod. I take a deep breath and realize that he’s safe because he’s out of my league. If I say something stupid it doesn’t ruin my chances because I never had a chance in the first place. It’s depressing as hell, but it’s oddly comforting.

  “Body politics—you know, how your social position at the gym depends on how hot you are. And then there is all the bullshit surrounding that, with guys fawning over the hot skinny girls, and everyone treating people like me as nothing more than dirt.”

  “People like you?”

  “Big, curvy.” I squint and tilt my head at him in an are you blind? fashion. “Anyway, that’s why I come here. Because I don’t have to care that no one here finds me hot. No one
is here for any reason other than to work out.”

  “I find you hot.” His eyes are intense, and he holds my gaze, like he’s daring me to disagree with him.

  My breath catches in my chest, and I drop my hands to my side. I don’t know how to reply. I don’t believe him. I can’t believe him. The entire concept is overwhelming and will only lead to pain. I stand up while he watches me. “I have to go,” I reply, fumbling over the words.

  As I take a step, I feel his hand wrap around my wrist. I’m shocked and am about to turn and let him know I don’t appreciate him grabbing me, but he is right next to me, his breath against my ear. “You are hot. Why don’t you believe it?”

  His body is pressed against mine, and I can feel his hard cock against my hip. I’m dizzy from the impossibility of it. I glance around, but we are alone. It is almost one A.M., and the gym is empty. He is achingly close but not moving closer. He is waiting for me to say something, but I don’t know what to say.

  “I want to prove it to you,” he whispers as he wraps me in his arms in an embrace from behind, his cock pressed hard against my ass, and his hands sliding up to my tits.

  “Please stop,” I reply, the words a breathy whisper. His hands stop, and I’m wrapped in his arms, his hands pressed against my body. I don’t want the embrace to end. I feel his hard muscles rippling against my soft skin. I feel his hard desire through his shorts so close to where my own desire burns.

  “I don’t have time for body politics,” and like that he uses my own words against me. “Do you really want me to stop? Because if you do I’ll walk away right now and never come back. So think hard and answer me this—what do you want?”

  He starts to pull his hands away, but before the warmth of his touch has even faded I say, “Please—” He stands there and time has stopped. I know I am at a point where I have a choice, and it is irrevocable. I will only have one chance, and the words will never be able to be taken back.

  “I want you,” I whisper. “I want you so much.”

  DIRK

  * * *

  The moment she says the words a surge of untapped passion surges. It is so powerful it staggers me. The pinpoint control I have over every situation is gone. I’ve never wanted a woman so badly in my life, and I can’t understand it. I don’t want to understand it. All I know is that she is mine.

  I lower my lips to her neck while my hands slide up to her tits. They are big and I just enjoy the sensation of my palms caressing their softness. I tease her nipples, running my fingertips over them, and when I finally squeeze them she gasps.

  I’m kissing her neck and she reaches around and places her palm on the back of my head, pulling me against her. I can hear her breathing get faster. I give her neck a sharp bite, and she moans. A whisper of “oh my god” escapes her mouth.

  She pushes her ass against my cock, and that’s when I know this is going to be a world class fuck. The little minx looked all hesitant and shy, but when she lets loose, it’s going to be one wild ride. I slip my fingers under the front of her tank top and lift it up over her tits. The whole time she is sliding her ass up and down against my cock.

  I am so hard it’s actually painful how my dick is straining against my shorts, but I don’t care. I’m enjoying the feel of her gorgeous tits in my hands. I play her like an instrument, stroking and squeezing her nipples, enjoying her moans and whispers of pleasure.

  Running my left hand down the front of her body, she tenses as I slide my hand under her tights. My fingertips make their way down, and as they brush against her tightly trimmed landing strip I feel a surge of raw lust.

  Everything about her turns up my desire, and as if to underscore that point my fingers slide between her pussy lips as if they were invited. She is sopping wet and shudders with every brush of my finger.

  I am beyond crazy with wanting her. I don’t care what she wants. I can’t handle it any more. I want to fuck her hard. I want to fuck her deep. I want to fuck her until I come inside her.

  JILL

  * * *

  His fingers have my entire body on fire, and his cock is sliding up and down my ass crack, teasing my pussy with how close it is. I’m ready to beg him to fuck me. And as if he was reading my mind, he pulls back, and before I even know what he’s doing, he grabs my tights and pulls them down to my ankles.

  I glance back. I want to see him pull his shorts down so I can feel his cock against bare ass and then in my pussy. But before I can see anything he grabs my shoulders and pushes me forward. “Bend over and grab the bench.”

  Without hesitation, I bend forward and grab the bench. My legs are spread, my tights are around my ankles, my top is near my shoulders with my tits exposed. I feel his knuckles against my ass, and then his hands slide his cock—so hard and big—up and down the crack of my ass.

  DIRK

  * * *

  I lied. With her bent over, her pussy wet and spread in front of me, all I need to do is fuck her. But for some reason I can’t. I have to ask the question. My dark soul needs to hear it, even at this moment. It’s who I am. So I say the words, hating myself for it. I need her to want it, too.

  JILL

  * * *

  “Beg me to fuck you,” he growls, and as he says the words I realize that at that moment it is the one thing I want more than anything in the world.

  “Please fuck me,” I whisper.

  “Louder,” he says, and as if to torture me into doing it, he slides the head of his cock between my pussy lips and then pulls back.

  “Oh god, fuck me. Please fuck me. I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me.”

  And my world explodes in pleasure as his hard cock drives inside me. His hands clutch my hips so hard it is almost painful, but I love it. He wants me so bad he won’t let go. His cock slides in and out, while his balls slap against my clit. He is so big that each thrust fills me completely, and my orgasm builds quickly.

  “Oh yes. Don’t stop. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me,” I moan. I don’t even have to stroke my clit to help myself along. I’m being fucked so completely that I’m going to come any second.

  DIRK

  * * *

  It is an unbelievable fuck. She’s bent over. I’m holding her hips tight, while I pound her with my cock, and her tits are swaying back and forth. She is tight but so wet that it’s perfect. She is begging me to fuck her, and it is so hot that I’m getting ready to come, and then she starts to moan and say she’s coming, and that does it—I’m coming too.

  Her legs tense, and she is so overcome with pleasure she reaches back to stop me from thrusting, but I won’t. I can’t. I thrust and hold it, then thrust and hold it, and the third time she is squeezing her legs together and shaking as my hot cum shoots inside her. I slowly slide my cock in and out a few times, enjoying the sudden jolts of pleasure as she moves her body.

  I step back and watch as she lowers her forehead to the weight bench. She is panting, and I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything sexier than her soaking up the pleasure of me fucking her. Something that she wanted so badly she was willing to beg for it.

  And something I wanted. And got.

  JILL

  * * *

  He pulls up his shorts and walks into the men’s locker room. I am a mess. Every nerve ending in my body is wired from the strongest orgasm I had ever experienced in my life. My legs are still twitching as I pull up my tights. I consider waiting for him to leave the locker room, but I have to clean up before I see him again. I just have to. I go in and take a shower, wondering as the hot water stings my face if he will be waiting outside for me.

  I badly want him to, but as I start to think more clearly I know what the moment actually was—a horny hot guy saw me as a convenient fuck. That it was an amazing fuck didn’t change the fact that it was just a fuck. He won’t be waiting for me. I’ll probably never see him again.

  As I dry off, I try to convince myself that I’m okay with that.

  DIRK

  * * *

 
I have to see her again.

  I had fucked supermodels. I had fucked three girls at the same time. A famous porn star came on to me at some business event on the West Coast, and we spent all night with her trying to shock me with how she’d let me use her body. But none of those things were as hot as what I had just experienced.

  I can’t do it, though. She may have the perfect body—the tits, the hips, the curves, everything—and she may have gladly lost herself in the passion once she let go, but she is still the quiet girl with the body politics issues. I am the absolute wrong person for her.

  I take broken things and through pain and hard choices make them better. I’m not the kind of guy who takes perfect things and then breaks them.

  JILL

  * * *

  It is ten o’clock, and as I adjust the weights on the leg machine I am thinking back to the night before. It is so hard to let go of what I had experienced with the stranger. The whole experience was both dirty and raw and yet—dare I say it—romantic. I linger on the memory of him holding me, his arms wrapped around me, and then him kissing me on the neck. Just thinking about it makes me shudder.

 

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