by Selena Kitt
“That’s it,” he insisted. “Feel good?”
She swallowed and nodded, panting and breathless with the sensation. Then he slid a hand down between her thighs, using his index finger to rub her swollen clit in circles. Mae’s eyes flew open and she looked down at him in wide-eyed surprise.
“Oh yes!” she cried, rocking faster. “Do that! More!”
He moved his finger faster as Mae twisted and tugged at her hard nipples, rolling on top of him like the tide coming in, again and again. The wet sound and tangy smell of their sex filled the little room and she found herself heady with it.
“Mae!” Griff warned as she shifted her hips forward and back, eyes closed, biting her lip with concentration. “Oh god, sweetheart…”
“Yes!” She opened her eyes to look at him, feeling the final wave break, washing heat all through her body. She cried out and collapsed into his arms as he thrust deep up into her pussy, grabbing her ass to give him more leverage as he bucked and shuddered beneath her. She felt every hot pulse of his cock, every sweet wave of his climax, matching her own.
They rested, quiet and breathless, their hearts thudding together, until finally Griff asked, “Now are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
She didn’t open her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“You’re lying.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Someone proposed to me tonight.” She just blurted it out and regretting it almost immediately.
“What?”
“I told you about that business associate of my father’s? The one who has a buyer for my grandmother’s apartment?”
Griff’s voice was stiff with anger. “He proposed to you?”
“Practically.”
“And what did you say?”
She laughed. “What do you think I said?”
“So what are you going to do?”
Mae sighed. “I don’t know.”
She felt him stiffen, and not in a good way. “Are you going to move in with your grandmother? Or maybe you’ll marry the guy and live happily ever after, just like your grandmother wants?”
Mae winced. “She’s the only family I have left, Griff. What can I do?”
He sat up, grabbing for his clothes. “You’ve got enough money to do what you want. Why don’t you?”
“It’s not that simple.” She sat up, watching him getting dressed. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.” He tucked in his shirt, grabbing his coat off the floor. “It’s all an illusion, Mae. The whole thing is one giant magic trick.” He waved his hand toward the window. “It can collapse at any minute. It already has.”
He sighed, just standing there in the middle of her bedroom, quiet for a moment. She wanted to go to him, but she wasn’t quite sure how.
“Did you know I used to be a stockbroker?” He turned to look at her, smiling at her wide-eyed look. Of course she didn’t know—she realized she hadn’t even known his first name until a few days ago. She only knew what he was willing to tell her. “Now I do magic tricks and sell apples. And it’s really no different at all.”
“Griff!” she called after him as he started to go.
He hesitated in the doorway, not turning to look at her as he spoke. “I don’t have anything left to give you, Mae.”
“I didn’t ask you for anything,” she protested.
He shook his head. “I know,” he said, and then he was gone.
* * * *
He couldn’t wait anymore. If she wasn’t going to come to him willingly, then he had no qualms about taking what he wanted by force. He’d proven that time and again over the years and this was no exception. Still, he would give her one more chance, he decided. He was a patient man, and he was confident in both his abilities of persuasion and the power of his will. He still believed she would come around. She just needed a little…incentive.
He slid the last document onto the table, watching the old woman sign it. It wasn’t the first time he’d run this scam—but it was the first time he’d done so on such a grand scale. It was a simple cash-back-at-closing deal, perfectly legal. Except that he’d had the property appraised at an inflated price, allowing the buyer to make an offer far above its actual value while putting very little in the way of a down payment on the property. The bank had no idea the appraisal was rigged, nor did they know that his buyer was a straw-man, being paid off with the proceeds.
Of course, all of his fake-buyer’s income and asset documentation was also fraudulent. He was just a guy from the Hooverville downtown, but he cleaned up well enough and, more importantly, could play the part. Lionel had worked with a lot of grifters over the years, some better than others, but there was always someone new around to play the roles he needed filled.
As the broker of the deal, he would pocket the difference between the actual value of the home and the appraised value—giving his Hooverville friend enough to make him happy—and they’d both be long gone before the bank realized the buyer was a dummy and the deal was bust. The property would go into foreclosure and the seller would be moved already.
So he wasn’t really hurting anyone after all, he reasoned. In theory, Mae’s grandmother would never know what had happened. She’d be living happily somewhere in the countryside with her granddaughter, none the wiser, and Lionel would be quite a bit richer.
“Goodness, I think I’m getting a cramp!” The old woman shook her writing hand, smiling up at him. “So much paperwork.”
“They like to make it complicated, don’t they?” Lionel slid all of the documentation into a large envelope. “But now you can walk away free and clear.”
And so can I, he thought.
“Mae will be so happy.” She gave a little sigh, picking up the tea he’d made for her. The servants had the day off, at Lionel’s suggestion. The woman liked him and didn’t question his requests. “She hates the city.”
And that was the wrench in the works, wasn’t it? He knew he should just take the money and run, but Mae had caught his attention from the beginning, back when he’d been selling insurance in Nebraska. It was mostly on the up-and-up, although he occasionally ran a profitable scam or two. He hadn’t been planning to scam the Verges, but the more he found out about the family—and especially after he’d discovered Mae’s father’s connections to old New York money—the more difficult it became for him to resist.
How was he supposed to know that the old woman had disowned her only son and had written him out of her will? Even he had to admit that his blackmail scheme had backfired disastrously—but lucky for him, his backup plan had still been in play. Mae’s parents had purchased a great deal of life insurance from him. All he’d had to do was marry the girl after their untimely death—brake lines failed all the time in these new autos—and he was golden.
“So Mae will be moving in with you?” Lionel asked.
Mae’s grandmother laughed brightly, giving him a sly wink. “Well, unless I can find her a husband before we move out.”
He smiled and winked back at her, but Lionel’s chest burned at her words. If the old woman hadn’t swooped in and hurried her granddaughter off to New York City in the first place, he would have married Mae and inherited her father’s money, all according to plan. Damned old bat had put the kibosh on that so fast Lionel hadn’t even seen Mae to say goodbye before she was gone.
Of course, now the stakes were even higher, he reasoned, looking around the penthouse apartment at the high-end furniture, the priceless works of art the old woman had hanging on her walls. Not only did he stand to gain Mae’s father’s money when he married her—but her grandmother’s as well.
He wanted what he was entitled to—everything he’d worked for. That only seemed fair. He put the envelope down on the table, dropping the medication into her tea while she was looking the other way. He slipped into the chair opposite her, picking up his own cup and sipping it.
She did the same, smiling at him over the rim. He watched and waited, listening to her chatt
er on about her granddaughter and the estate they’d be moving to in Nantucket. When she glanced up at him, eyes widening a little, he knew the medication was starting to take effect.
Her mouth drew into a comic little “o” before she collapsed in her chair, slipping to the floor with a fat thud. He sighed, hefting her back into place, using the rope he had packed into his briefcase to secure her to the chair. He had more rope in his case, along with various other tools and implements he might need later, if he had to resort to such measures to persuade his bride-to-be that he really was her intended. He just hoped it didn’t have to come to that. He hated doing things the hard way.
He checked the old woman’s pulse—faint but there. Good. He added a thick piece of rope as a gag, just in case. The penthouse was isolated and all the servants were gone, but you could never be too careful. Now it was time to go collect the rest of his debt. He really was going to try it the easy way. If that failed, well…then, and only then, he would resort to doing it the hard way—if he had to.
* * * *
“I’m sorry, Griff.” She didn’t find it hard to say at all.
He didn’t apologize, but he pulled her behind his apple cart and put his arms around her right there on the street, wrapping her up in safety and warmth, and she melted against him in spite of the public nature of their embrace.
“I just don’t want to lose you.” His hoarse, whispered words brought tears to her eyes. The truth was she didn’t want to go. She loved her grandmother, and she missed living in the country, but this man had somehow become the most important thing on earth to her and if that meant staying in New York City, she was prepared to stand up and say so.
“You’re not losing me.” She nestled her head under his chin, breathing in the scent of him, always mixed with the sweet smell of apples. “I’m going to be wherever you are.”
“Do you mean that?” He lifted her face to search her eyes and saw the tears glistening there. He kissed her then, his mouth hot and insistent, branding her, claiming her, right there on the street.
“Mae!” The sound of her name brought her out of her daze and she broke the kiss to see Lionel pulled up at the curb, shoving the passenger door of his car open. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Your grandmother needs you!”
“I have to go.” She looked guiltily up at Griff, seeing the growing anger on his face as he caught a glimpse of Lionel leaning across the front seat of the car.
She didn’t want a huge confrontation in the middle of the street. The police had been cracking down on apple vendors lately and she didn’t want Griff calling attention to himself or, god forbid, doing something stupid enough to get arrested for. She knew, after what she’d just said, that leaving this way didn’t exactly look as if she was choosing Griff over her grandmother—but what if she was ill? If her grandmother had been looking for her, had even sent Lionel searching, there had to be a good reason.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back. Please, just trust me.”
“Mae!” Griff called after her but she was already sliding in beside Lionel, shutting the door behind her. “Mae, get out of the car!”
“He’s got moxie, doesn’t he?” Lionel remarked, staring as Griff pounded on the window, screaming at her to get out
“Go!” Mae insisted, sinking lower in her seat, seeing the anger rising on Griff’s face. “Please, just go!”
Lionel floored it but Griff chased them, pounding on the trunk, until Lionel swerved around a pedestrian and turned the corner. Mae twisted in her seat but she couldn’t see Griff in the crowd on the street.
“Guess he likes you, huh?” Lionel shifted, giving the car even more gas, putting more distance between them and Griff.
Mae blushed, turning back to face him, but ignored his question. She knew he’d seen them kissing, but she decided she’d deal with that later. “How’s my grandmother?”
Lionel was quiet, taking another fast corner, and Mae grabbed the edge of the seat to keep from sliding. She frowned, looking over at him, seeing his jaw working.
“Lionel?”
He gave her a long, veiled look and it made her stomach clench. “Are you playing with me, Mae?”
“I don’t know…”
He turned another sharp corner. “I think I’ve make my affections and intentions clear to you.”
“Oh…” She saw the Century building on the right, glad they were almost there. Maybe she could avoid letting him down too hard—again. “Lionel, I’m sorry. I told you before, I’m not…we can’t…”
He braked hard, the tires actually squealing to a stop in front of her grandmother’s building. “Well I guess I know now just why you’ve been turning me down.”
“You’re a nice man, Lionel,” she said, reaching out to touch his forearm. He looked down at her hand and then met her eyes. The look in them scared her a little in its intensity. “But I just…I don’t feel that way about you.”
“Well someone’s feeling something.” He sneered. “No wonder you’ve been drawing your shades.”
Mae stared at him, confused. “My…what?”
“Your grandmother’s waiting.” He got out of the car and Mae followed, trying to make sense of what he’d said.
“You and I were meant to be together, Mae.” Lionel was addressing her as they rode up in the elevator, but it was also, strangely, almost as if she wasn’t even there. “I knew it from the first moment I saw you. God, what a hot little dish you were. And you didn’t even know it.”
“Lionel, I don’t think you understand…” Mae struggled with her words as they approached the door to her grandmother’s apartment.
“Don’t worry, I got the message.” He opened the door and Mae frowned as it swung open—unlocked. That was odd… “Now it’s your turn to listen to me.”
The door shut behind them and Mae froze, seeing her grandmother slumped in a chair. She heard the lock turn, the newest and latest in security, a thick deadbolt, but she was already rushing to her grandmother’s aid, sure she was ill. It wasn’t until she reached the chair that she saw the ropes she was tied with.
“Grandmother!” Mae shook the old woman gently, but she didn’t give any sign she heard. She pulled the rope out of her grandmother’s mouth. “Lionel, what is this? What’s happened to her? Why—?”
The blow came from behind, knocking her three feet from her grandmother’s chair onto the hardwood floor. Mae sprawled, her ears ringing, the hip she’d fallen on aching, her basket spilling open, tumbling the remains of her lunch onto the floor. It wasn’t until that moment she realized just how much trouble she was really in.
“No!” She cried out as Lionel grabbed the back of her coat, yanking her to her feet. “Oh god, please, no…”
She tried to scramble away but her heels scraped helplessly along the hardwood as Lionel ripped off her coat and slammed her down into a chair.
“Don’t fucking move!”
If his words didn’t make her freeze, the knife he’d taken from his pocket and flicked open did the trick. She stared at it, glancing behind him toward the door, wondering if she could make it before he caught her. But even if she did…then what? Her grandmother was tied to a chair, helpless. Was she even alive?
“Help!” She screamed, but knew already it was useless, and all it did was elicit another blow, this time across the other side of her head, making her right ear sting.
“Shut up!” He went behind her, grabbing her arms and twisting them so her hands met behind the chair. It was unbelievably painful and she whimpered as he worked, tying her hands together and then her feet to the legs of the chair. “That’s better. A big improvement.”
She glanced over at her grandmother, relieved to see her chest slowly rising and falling. At least she was alive. Mae strained to listen, searching the apartment for any other sounds. Where were the servants?
“You know, I wanted to do this the easy way.” Lionel shook his head sadly, picking up the briefcase he’d pulled the rope out of and putting it
on the dining room table. “All you had to do was say yes. Is that so hard?”
He turned his back to her and she wiggled her hands in the rope, twisting and turning. It was tight, but maybe if she worked it long enough, she could loosen it.
“It’s time for you to say yes.” Lionel began pulling things out of the briefcase one by one.
“Please don’t do this,” she whispered, hearing the sound of him putting things on the table, but she didn’t know what—his body blocked her view.
“All you have to do is marry me, Mae.” He turned to face her. “It’s very simple.”
She blinked at him, her chest filling with rage. “I can’t marry you.”
“My knife begs to differ with you.” He smiled, hefting it in his hand and putting it back on the table. “And so do my pliers.” He lifted the largest, sharpest pair of needle-nosed pliers she’d ever seen off the table and showed them to her. “What’s the matter?” he inquired when her eyes went wide at the sight of them.
“They’re so…big…” she whispered.
“The better to torture you with, my dear.” He snapped them open and closed. “And then there’s my gun.” He set the pliers down and picked up a pistol. “Also…big. Wouldn’t you say?” He leaned forward, caressing her cheek with the barrel, and Mae shivered.
“Please don’t do this,” she whispered.
Lionel put his mouth against her ear and murmured, “And that’s not all that’s big, I promise you.”
“Please!”
He chuckled. “Begging already?”
“What do you want?” There had to be something to dissuade him from this course, and there was only one thing she could imagine he wanted. “Money? I can give you money.”
“I want what belongs to me.” He put the gun back down on the table, picking up a tool Mae didn’t recognize, but it looked sharp and wicked. “I want everything I’ve worked for. I just want what I’ve earned.”
“Worked for?” She gulped, blinded by the silver implement in his hand.
“Do you have any idea what’s involved in setting up a scheme like this?” He sighed, tilting up her chin. She couldn’t take her eyes off the thing in his hand, staring at it in dazed horror. “You really are that naïve, aren’t you?” His hand moved down her throat, squeezing gently. “Do you really think your parents buying an enormous life insurance policy from me and then getting into a horrible car accident was just a coincidence?”