Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline)

by Sparrow Beckett

  “Dude.” Atlas snapped his fingers in front of his face. “What the hell are you doing?”

  God, this girl was getting to him. “Fuck off,” he replied, but more to his sex drive than to his brother.

  Today, he had the perfect test for little Miss Addison. He hoped she was a good actress. He typed a message and sent it.

  What time can you get here?

  I’m on my way.

  Excellent. Wear something nice. We’re going shopping.

  He wondered if she’d ever gone beyond skulking through parking lots at night to steal a car. Today, he’d show her another way. He just hoped her acting skills were decent.

  Twenty minutes later, as he started putting the car back together as best he could, Addison pulled into the driveway.

  “Wow.” She stepped over pieces of metal and seat upholstery that were strewn across the lawn. “What happened to your car?”

  She knew very well what. Suppressing a growl, he stalked toward her. “Some pretty girl made me tear it apart.”

  “Hmm.” She rubbed a finger thoughtfully over her lips, and for a moment he was entranced by the gesture, and by the sexy curve of her mouth. “Do you often let girls yank your chain?”

  “Sometimes. It gives me an excuse to spank them.”

  Her confidence faltered a moment. Her cheeks grew pink, her eyes half-lidded. Yeah. She was submissive all right. And that wasn’t just his ego talking. He’d bet she’d melt for him here and now with a little dirty talk.

  He crowded her with his body, just to keep her off balance, to keep that lusty haze in her eyes. She seemed like the type of submissive who needed extra help staying in the right headspace. He wanted to learn his way around her mind more than he’d ever wanted to learn a woman.

  “Maybe . . . another time.” Abruptly, he stepped away, leaving her looking breathless. “For now, we have work to do.” He tried to calm himself then looked her over from a professional standpoint. It didn’t help him regain his self-control. The short sundress and strappy heels showed off her luscious body, and made him want to run his hands over her bare legs. And then there was her cleavage. It was . . . highly distracting.

  “This is your idea of wearing something nice?” he asked. She looked nice, all right, but not in the way he’d meant. Instead of a rich, uptight housewife, she looked like candy—sweet and delicious. But her wide eyes and innocent expression made her the last person someone would suspect of criminal intent.

  “What?” She peered down at herself. “It’s a dress.”

  “We’re going shopping at a BMW dealership. You need to look like you can afford to buy one.”

  “You said dress nice. Not wear pearls and a cardigan.” Her cocky demeanor snapped back into place and she stepped in close, smirking. The flowery smell of her hair swirled around him and his hand twitched to tangle in the smooth strands. “So that’s why you’re wearing a suit.” She gripped his tie and straightened it. “You clean up nice, Fox.”

  “Mr. Johnson today. Peter Johnson.”

  She snorted a laugh. “Okay. I’ll be . . . Petunia.”

  He lifted a brow. “Rein it in, sweetness. You can be . . . Amanda.”

  “And are we married?”

  “Of course.”

  She held up her ring finger and wiggled it. “You forgot to put a ring on it.”

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out a ring he’d bought for this reason yesterday, knowing he was close to losing the bet. With mock-seriousness, he said, “Amanda, will you do the honor of being my pretend wife?”

  With a gasp, she clasped her hands together. “Oh my God! A cubic zirconia! It’s more beautiful than I ever dreamed!”

  The rapture on her face made him laugh. He’d have to get her to tone it down, but he had to admit she had good control over her expression when he didn’t have a hand up her skirt.

  He didn’t bother to tell her it was a real diamond.

  She took the ring and slid it on her finger. “Okay. So what’s the plan, Pete?”

  ***

  Fox drove the Rolls-Royce down several side roads surrounding the dealership. The engine’s purr was softer than the sports cars he usually delivered. His hands enjoyed the padded leather steering wheel. Everything about this car was made for luxury.

  Three hundred and nineteen thousand dollars. Pretty steep if he actually planned to pay for one.

  “How does it feel, honey?” Addison asked from the back.

  Fox shifted in the seat, pretending to consider its comfort. Of course it was perfect. But it wasn’t his to keep. “Comfortable. It’ll be great for the drive to the beach house.”

  The dealer smiled and patted the dashboard. “It’s the most sought-after luxury car, especially in terms of comfort. Perfect for long distance driving.”

  “How’s the mileage?” she asked.

  Fox gritted his teeth. Rich people didn’t ask about things like gas mileage. “Sweetheart,” he said, “if you like it, we buy it. You don’t need to worry about those sorts of things anymore.”

  In the rearview, he saw her face pale. She’d been flawless until now.

  The salesman turned to her. “I understand. I’m a conscientious spender myself.”

  She smiled winningly. “Peter is used to having money. Me, not so much. Once poor, always poor.”

  Fox wondered if Tom hated people like them. Well, who they were pretending to be. It must be insufferable spending all day with people who made so much more than he did and didn’t mind bragging about it. He pulled back into the lot and parked by the side door, where Tom indicated.

  Now the real show began.

  Addison opened the door and started to climb out. She paused halfway and yelled, “Dang it!”

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Fox asked, trying not to sound rehearsed. Right on cue, his phone rang. “It’s work. I’ll just be one sec. Hello, Peter here,” he said into the receiver to Luke.

  “I dropped my keys under the car!” Addison stood and wobbled on her heels.

  Tom was already beside her, falling for the damsel-in-distress routine.

  “Would you help me get them?” she asked him sweetly.

  “Sure thing,” Tom replied.

  Once he was kneeling on the concrete, with his head halfway under the car, Fox grabbed what he needed from Addison’s purse, which she’d purposely left on the center console.

  He plugged the hacking device in under the dash, keeping it low in his crotch, covered by her purse while he uploaded the car’s computer imprint. Later he’d use it to make a keyless entry device and simply come back at night and drive it off the lot. All the while, Luke droned on about a documentary he’d seen about arctic seals as Fox gave nondescript responses every few moments.

  “I don’t see them,” Tom said from under the car. “You sure you dropped them here?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. They might be behind the tire.”

  Fox looked down at the device. Fifty percent complete.

  Tom shifted on the ground. “I’m sorry. I just can’t find them.”

  Of course not. They weren’t really there.

  Fox watched in the rearview mirror. Tom was dangerously close to looking inside the vehicle. He hoped Addison had another trick up her sleeve.

  “Oh!” She turned toward the bumper, giving Fox and Tom her back. “I think I see them!”

  She bent over just as a gush of wind swept through the lot. Her skirt went up, flashing a red thong. Tom froze, staring at her perfect heart-shaped bottom. For a very unprofessional second, Fox had trouble tearing his gaze away too. Damn, she had a fine ass.

  Giving him ample opportunity to unplug the device and shove it back in her purse, she stayed bent over while Tom fought to close his drooling mouth. Fox jumped out of the car, carrying her bag.

  When she heard the door shut, s
he snapped upright. “Found them!” She dangled the keys from her fingers.

  Fox slid to her side. “You almost forgot your purse, dear,” he admonished, then kissed her temple. He liked doing that more than he should have.

  She dropped her keys in the bag then slipped the straps onto her shoulder. “Thanks for the help, Tom.” Smiling, she turned to Fox. “So what do you think? I really love it!”

  He rubbed his chin. “It’s your call, beautiful.”

  She turned to Tom. “Do you have it in red? I just love red.”

  Fox could almost see Tom thinking about the thong. His mouth finally snapped shut, but before he could respond, Fox jumped in.

  “I’m not sure about red. We’ll have to talk about that. And we still have that Bentley you liked across town, remember?”

  She crinkled her nose. “So many choices.”

  “Let’s go home and discuss them. They both have their advantages.” He slid his arm around her waist, liking the way she automatically tucked against him. “Thank you, Tom.”

  “If I could just point out a few of the optional features,” he said, “I think I can help you come to a decision.”

  Now came the high pressure part. Fox straightened his shoulders and stared him down. “Tom, you and I both know how this works. I’m not going to respond to a hard sell. I wouldn’t be good at my job if I was the type who did, so don’t bother. If I decide to purchase this car, I’ll come back and ask for you, and pay the sticker price. But it’s not going to be right now.”

  Tom still looked ready to push.

  Addison jumped in, grasping Fox around the waist. “Mmm. I love when you get all commanding like that.” Seductively, she rubbed up against him. “I wanna go home.” Her hand drifted from his chest toward his crotch, stopping at his belt. “Now.”

  Holy fuck. What the hell was she doing?

  Tom looked as surprised as Fox felt. “Um,” he fumbled for something to say, and averted his gaze.

  Addison grabbed Fox’s arm and started pulling him back toward his car. “I don’t know if I’ll make it until we get home. Maybe we can stop on the side of the road again.”

  As Tom stuttered through a response, Fox shrugged. “Duty calls.” He let her tug him several steps away. “Nice to meet you, Tom. We’ll be in touch.”

  They walked back to his car, Addison still acting like a horny housewife while he tried, desperately, not to respond. He wished the lot was empty so he could spank her ass as soon as they got to the car.

  After sliding into their seats and closing the doors, he turned to her. “What the fuck was that?”

  “What?” She had the nerve to look offended.

  “You can’t throw me off my game like that!”

  She rolled her eyes. “It made him uncomfortable so we could leave. Goal achieved.”

  “We stick to the plan.” He gritted his teeth. “That’s how this works.” He never should have brought her along. This was what happened when he let his dick make decisions.

  “Yeah, well, sometimes you have to improvise. Don’t tell me things work perfectly every time. Go with the flow, Pete.”

  “I have things pretty much down to a science at this point.”

  “When you’re conning, it isn’t science. You have to think on your feet.”

  “I’m aware of that! I had things under control.”

  “Didn’t look like it to me. Looked like I saved your ass.”

  “You did not save my ass.” Why was he arguing with her? The woman was impossible. And he couldn’t concentrate on making sense when her skirt was riding up, flashing him her pretty bare thighs. She noticed his glance and grinned slyly. For fucksakes. How could one woman make him want to simultaneously throttle her and fuck her?

  A picture flashed in his mind—him shoving her down on the hood of the car, one hand holding her throat, the other lifting her dress . . .

  Swallowing hard, he started the car and pulled out of the lot at a responsible pace. It took all his willpower not to touch her.

  “Well, I think that went well,” she murmured. “So, am I in?”

  “No.”

  “Ugh.”

  It would take more than one job to let a new person in. And it would never be her. She was too . . . infuriating. She shifted on the seat and her skirt inched higher. It didn’t help that he knew exactly what panties she had on, and what her ass looked like in them.

  Unable to resist, he flicked the hem of her skirt. “Nice panties, by the way.”

  She smirked. “I knew you’d look, perv.”

  “There’s not a man alive who wouldn’t.”

  “A gentleman wouldn’t have.”

  “I’m no gentleman,” he grumbled.

  At that, she let out a little moan and shifted against the seat again, rubbing her thighs together. Was she turned on too?

  Fuck. She was. Now that he was paying attention, he could smell her arousal, like a fucking mating call.

  He cleared his throat. “I took you on a job, now you tell me where you hid the tracking device.”

  “No.”

  “This isn’t negotiable.” No? People didn’t say no to him.

  She turned in her seat to face him. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re bossy?”

  “Of course. Now answer the question. Where’d you hide the device?”

  “No,” she said smugly. “And you can’t make me.”

  The dominant part of his brain threatened to short circuit. He just wanted to turn her over his knee and spank her sassy ass—was that so wrong? When they finally ended up in bed together, it was going to be a battle fucking royale.

  “A hundred bucks says I can.”

  “Another bet?” She pressed her legs together again.

  “Never mind. You’re probably too scared.”

  Her eyes got that hazy look again. “I’m not scared of you or your dungeon,” she said, voice husky.

  Settle down, fuck. He slid a hand onto her thigh, testing the waters. She didn’t pull away. “What’s got you all turned on, pretty girl?”

  He expected outrage so it surprised him when she said, earnestly, “I like danger.”

  Well, fuck.

  Chapter 5

  The last of Addison’s sass and bravado melted away as Fox led her down to the basement. Sure, she’d played with dominants before, but not one who seemed to get her like he did. The truth was, she was just as nervous as she had been stealing her first car—except it was worse because submitting to a man who could read her so well meant letting herself be vulnerable. Maybe she could hold onto some control. There was no agreement between them that said she had to give it all up.

  “So is this a shared dungeon, or your bedroom?” she asked, wondering if the guys had some sort of sock-on-the-doorknob arrangement between them.

  “It’s my bedroom. As much as I love my brother and cousin, I need my own space.”

  “Okay.” At least there’d be no unexpected company.

  What had she been thinking, accepting this bet? What the hell was he going to do to her? Possibilities flicked through her mind, each more depraved than the last. She was simultaneously nervous and yet couldn’t wait to find out.

  He paused on the stairs, turning so he could look her directly in the eye. “We can go up to the kitchen for coffee or just watch a movie if you’ve changed your mind.”

  Giving her an easy out? A gentleman. Interesting.

  “Are you afraid of me, Mr. Fox?” She cocked her head at him, challenging. What was it about this man that made her want to goad him into showing her who was boss? It was about as mature as a ten-year-old playing with firecrackers, but his reactions to it made her heart race. Would watching him blow up be fun, scary, or both?

  “Master? Don’t you think you’re jumping the gun? I haven’t even started yet.” He win
ked at her and she frowned.

  “I said mister, but nice try.”

  He walked back up the two steps to meet her and nudged her toward the wall with his body until she was pressed between the two. Heat flared through her as she tried to gauge just how much danger he was.

  Oh yeah. This was why she took the bet.

  She wrapped her fingers into the front of his dress shirt and tugged him even closer, pulling him down so she could kiss his mouth. His smile was dirty and electric, and he kissed her back with light, teasing brushes of his lips. When she tried to deepen the kiss, one of his big hands tangled in her hair, close to her scalp. She grunted at the mild pain, and there was a flash of sadism in his eyes.

  Hot damn, the man was sexy.

  He took her mouth, his tongue finding hers, urging her to participate while he stayed firmly in control. The press of his erection between them was heady, and she arched against it, hoping he’d lose some of the strict control he had over himself.

  She could sense his barely contained lust, and it stripped her gears, considering he was all hot and cut and hardcore badass, while she was a suburban grad-school retail worker. Sure, she stole cars too, but deep down she knew there was a vast chasm between them. Messing with Fox was dangerous business, no matter how nice he seemed. The first time they’d met, she’d seen the dark side of him—hell, he’d punched her out and abducted her. Why wasn’t she being more careful around him?

  Why? Because aside from his obvious tasty attributes, she also got the impression he’d give his left nut to shove her facedown and fuck her like a rutting Neanderthal.

  And she really, really wanted him to.

  His kisses grew more heated. Fox unzipped her dress and impatiently shoved it to the floor, his intensity stealing her breath. She was glad she’d worn a sexy bra and underwear instead of something comfortable, and his eyes said she’d chosen well. His fingertips grazed her pussy through the thin fabric of her thong, and she whimpered, pressing against him.

  At this rate, they were going to end up having wall sex, but she was surprisingly okay with getting off without going through the threatened interrogation.

  With shaking hands, she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, catching her breath as his chest came into view. He smiled crookedly at her and undid the buttons at his wrists to get rid of it. Oh god, he was glorious. His huge raven tattoos, one on each pectoral, were so lifelike they could have burst from his skin and flown away. Both of his upper arms had very realistic gargoyles. There was more, too, but she was too distracted to stop and examine them. All of his tattoos were symmetrical black and gray, pleasing to the eye and obviously planned out in advance.