Dirty Thief

by Tia Louise

  At the roulette wheel, a younger man sees her at once, and the lecherous gleam in his eye sparks a smoldering rage in my chest. He wants to fuck her. I watch as he steps back, never taking his eyes off her, and walks around behind the couples eagerly placing bets to where she stands. A hint of a smile curls her full pink lips. Those delicious lips…

  The young man approaches her, and she turns. Her face is to me, and I recognize that expression. She’s waiting, giving him a chance. He blows it. His hand glides over to her waist, invading her space. He doesn’t have permission to touch her, but she never breaks a smile.

  My fist tightens on the red velvet, but I don’t move. I know her tells. She knows mine, but I know hers. She doesn’t like me to interfere. She prefers handling these men her own way. Even still, it’s almost impossible not to cross the space like a freight train and throw his ass across the tables.

  I feel my brow lower, my shoulders tighten. I also see her hand move to his chest. She places her palm flat against his coat just before she leans forward as if to whisper something in his ear. None of that distracts me. I watch that slim hand move, feather-light through his clothes. No rings or jewelry, nothing that might get snagged on fabric.

  Whatever she said, he doesn’t follow her, but as she leaves the roulette table, the narrow clutch opens ever so slightly as she places the item inside.

  It’s time for me to go. She’ll leave the casino soon—before anyone has had a chance to notice anything missing. Freddie helped me do the research, so I know she’s staying at the Paris Hotel. She booked the Garnier suite under the name Ginger Santoro.

  I will be there before she arrives.

  * * *

  The glow of lights from the casino fountain and the gardens far below cast deep shadows across the interior of the Garnier suite. I’m shrouded in darkness on the narrow, velvet sofa when the chirp of the lock sounds at the door.

  Light flows in from the hallway, and the sea breeze bellows through the room from the open balcony. Her long blonde curls swirl around her face and shoulders, and she pauses a moment before entering. Her body is cast in silhouette, and her stiletto heels lengthen her shapely legs, making her even taller. She’s fucking gorgeous.

  I’ve loosened my tie and removed my coat. My vest is unbuttoned, and a cummerbund is on the small table. Beside it are a flogger, a mask, and wrist restraints. My semi grows harder as I think of how I intend to discipline her for tonight’s misbehavior.

  Without a word, she walks into the dim-lit room and goes to the table in front of a mirror hanging on the wall. I watch as she places the narrow clutch on it. She reaches up and traces her fingers around her hairline, and in a gentle sweep, the blonde wig is off and discarded. The large gemstones on her ears are next, and with a tissue, she wipes the deep red lipstick from her mouth.

  She shakes her head, pulling her dark waves around her face, growing more beautiful with every discarded accessory. Her final act is to reach behind her neck, unfastening the beaded band holding her dress in place. She reaches around her back and slides the zipper down, and the entire garment hits the floor. She’s left standing in nothing but those gold stilettos, and I’m winded. She is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.

  I exhale a barely audible groan, and she turns quickly to face me. The yellow light touches the tips of her breasts, highlighting her nipples, which are rising and falling rapidly.

  “Who’s there?” she speaks fast, the slightest tremor in her voice.

  “The authorities.” My voice is deep, even.

  I might be aching to fuck her, my cock an iron rod in my slacks, but I never break.

  Standing, I point to the space in front of me. “Come.”

  She hesitates a moment, her fingers curling, her little pants visible even in this light. She can’t leave now.

  “I do not repeat myself.” Again, it’s low, even.

  One hesitant step, then another… she crosses the luxurious suite, and my eyes go to the luscious space between her thighs. She moves like a supermodel, her legs whispering past each other as she obeys my command.

  “Stop,” I say when she reaches the small table.

  I walk to where she stands, her hands moving over her thighs as if she’s thinking of covering her naked body.

  I’m at her shoulder, and I look down the swell of her breasts, the dark areolas, the pointed tips. Her smell of fresh jasmine surrounds me, and my fingers ache to touch her. I long to bury my face in her silky hair.

  Not yet.

  “Do not cover yourself.” It’s a hot whisper across her cool skin, and she shivers.

  Going to the small table, I pick up the purse. Inside, I take out a slim phone, and… Fuck. She did steal the old man’s gold pen.

  “What did I tell you about stealing from the citizens of Monagasco?”

  “Not to, sir,” she whispers.

  Returning to her, I feel the hum of anticipation sizzling between us. Hot desire and need flush her skin. She steals because she wants what comes next, and I’ve promised to give her everything she wants.

  “Down.” With one word, she lowers to her knees in front of me, facing me.

  Looking up, she smooths her hands over the front of my pants, rising higher until she reaches the clasp. She unfastens it and lowers the zipper, and I push them down and away. Tonight, I’m commando.

  Round blue-green eyes meet mine, and she leans forward, her lips puckered as she places them against my slippery cock. Her tongue flickers around my tip, and I exhale slowly as waves of pleasure race through my body, centering on this one muscle my wife is now gripping in her fist.

  I trace my fingers over her cheeks, moving them into the sides of her hair and gripping her head. She sucks and bobs up and down faster. My ass tightens, and I feel the orgasm building. Slow it down.

  I hold her, stopping her movements. “Stop.” I swallow the thickness in my throat. “Turn around.”

  She looks up at me a moment longer, eyes simmering with desire, and I trace my finger over her swollen lips. My cock is aching and pointing at her, but she needs her punishment.

  “Turn around.”

  She moves so that her back is to me and leans forward, placing her elbows on the floor, giving me a full view of her glistening pussy. I can’t resist. I reach down and trace my finger front to back, testing her wetness, teasing her clit, sinking my finger into her core.

  Her breathy moan fills the air around us, and I remove my hand. I take the mask off the table and put it over her eyes. Then I take the thigh restraints and wrap them around her legs.

  “Stand.” She reaches out, and I take her hand, guiding her to the divan. It has a velvet-covered arm, and the first time I saw it, I envisioned bending Ava over it and taking her hard from behind. Time for dreams to come true.

  Pushing her forward on her stomach, I use the cuffs on her outer thighs to bind her wrists. Spreading her legs, I run my palm over her smooth ass.

  “Three licks,” I say. “Count them.”

  Reaching back, I bring my palm down hard against her skin. A loud SLAP! fills the air around us, and her knees bend slightly.

  “One.” Her voice is muffled in the velvet.

  I repeat the motion. SLAP!

  “Two…” It’s a bit louder, a bit closer to a moan.

  SLAP!

  “Three!” It’s a gasping cry, and her thighs start to tremble.

  I drop to my knees and spread her apart with my hands. My tongue sinks fast into her dripping core, sliding in and out before moving forward to circle her clit. She’s moaning louder into the cushions, and I’m relentless. I suck at that tight little bud again and again. She’s close to coming. I can feel every jump of her muscles as I taste her.

  “Oh… Rowan!” She’s coming, and I stand quickly.

  Her ass is in the air, wrists twisting in the restraints, pulling her legs even farther apart. I sink my thumb into her core, covering it with her come, feeling that delicious clenching. I’m holding my cock, r
eady to plunge, and at the same time, I press my thumb into her ass as I drive my length deep and hard into her.

  She cries out, and I grip her hip in my free hand. An explosion of clenching muscles surrounds my dick, and I have to hold steady. I’m right there, on the edge of orgasm, but I won’t finish so soon. I thrust forcefully, working her smaller hole at the same time. Her thighs shudder and her knees bend. I push her up with the strength of my rocking.

  “Yes… yes…” Her trembling wails drive me on until I’m no longer able to hold back. Taking my thumb away, I grasp both her hips and pull her to me, pulsing and filling her, keeping our bodies flush as it overflows, as the sizzling orgasm snakes through my legs.

  Another clench, another pulse. We’re both slick and gasping. My hands move from her hips to her outer thighs, and I unfasten the restraints. I reach forward and lift her to me, still deep inside her.

  The mask slips off her eyes, and I turn her face. Her full mouth is against mine, and I pull her lips, driving my tongue inside to find hers, taking no prisoners as I devour her. She’s sweet like cherries with the bite of cinnamon. Delicious.

  I take a small step back, sliding out of her, and I reach down to lift her in my arms. She’s weak and flushed, but a satisfied smile curls her lips. I put my knee on the bed and ease us to the center, kissing her again as I cover her body with mine.

  She reaches up to thread her fingers in the sides of my hair, and I’m propped on my elbows, my hands on either side of her cheeks. For a few moments we consume each other in a kiss. Warm fires of love and bonding flow between us. She’s passionate and perfect. She’s my fire and ice.

  “You took my breath away tonight,” I say, moving my lips along the side of her jaw. “You’re more beautiful every time.”

  “I confess I was a little nervous at first.” I lift my head to kiss her again briefly before holding her sparkling aqua gaze. “It’s been so long, I was afraid I’d lost my touch.”

  “I was afraid I might blow your cover by beating the shit out of that guy.”

  Her perfect nose wrinkles, and she does a little laugh. “He was just like all the others. Trying to cop a feel.”

  “And you stole his phone. A very bold move, Miss Wilder.”

  That gets me an adorable frown. “It’s Madame Tate.”

  Leaning down, I kiss her again. “You bet your ass it is.”

  “I’ll return everything tomorrow,” she says, and I smile.

  We always manage to get her petty thefts back to their rightful owners anonymously and usually with a little token of apology.

  Another several moments drift by. It’s a busy Saturday night, and the soft murmur of the crowd drifts up through the open balcony doors. Behind it is the faint music from the fountain display. I turn her body, pulling her back to my chest so I’m wrapped around her. In addition to our first night out, it’s a bittersweet celebration for Ava. The last of her orphans had been adopted by one of our wealthier families today.

  In spite of it all, I can feel my wife’s body not relaxing in my arms, and I can’t resist. “You’re thinking about him.”

  She laughs, and when she speaks her voice is pouty. “It’s the first time we’ve left him alone!”

  “He’s fed and happy, and the nanny has put him to bed. He’s probably already asleep.”

  “I didn’t get to kiss him or sing his little song to him.”

  “He’ll survive for one night.”

  She’s quiet again, and I move back, turning her so I can see her face. “Do you want to go to the palace?” Her lips twist, and she actually thinks about it. This time I laugh. “If you say yes—”

  “No!” She answers quickly, capturing my blue eyes with hers as her lips curl into a smile. “You’re right. He’ll be okay for one night.”

  I slide my hand over her cheek before leaning forward to kiss her lightly. “Philip is a lucky little boy.”

  “Because he’s a crown prince?”

  I shrug. “I suppose, partly.”

  Her smile is naughty. “Because he looks just like his incredibly sexy daddy?”

  “Because he has a beautiful mother, who drives me crazy with how much she loves him.”

  One dark brow arches. “In a good way?”

  “In the very best way.”

  Pulling her to me again, I wrap my arms around her and cover her mouth with mine. Our lips melt together, and my thoughts drift to the chubby little dark-haired boy with eyes like the ocean—another little thief who has stolen my heart.

  * * *

  The end.

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  Zelda Wilder

  My legs are wet. Thunder rolls low in a steel-grey sky, and the hiss of warm rain grows louder. I lean further sideways into the culvert, closer against my little sister Ava’s body, and grit my teeth against the hunger pain twisting my stomach. There’s no way in hell I’m sleeping tonight.

  Reaching up, I rub my palm against the back of my neck, under the thick curtain of my blonde hair. A shudder moves at my side, and I realize Ava’s crying. We’re packed tight in this concrete ditch, but I twist my body around to face her.

  Clearing my throat, I force my brows to unclench. I force my voice to be soothing instead of angry. “Hey,” I whisper softly. “What’s the matter, Ava-bug?”

  Silence greets me. She’s small enough to be somewhat comfortable in our hideout. Her knees are bent, but unlike me, they’re not shoved up into her nose. Still, she leans forward to press her eyes against the backs of her hands. Her glossy brown hair is short around her ears and falls onto her cheeks.

  Our parents were classic movie buffs, naming her after Ava Gardner and me after Scott Fitzgerald’s crazy wife Zelda. We pretty much lived up to our monikers, since my little sister wound up having emerald green cat eyes and wavy dark hair. She’s a showstopper whereas I’m pretty average—flat blue eyes and dishwater blonde. So far no signs of schizophrenia (har har), but you can bet your ass I can keep up with the boys in everything, which brings us to this lowly state.

  “Come on, now,” I urge. “It can’t be as bad as all that.”

  Her dark head moves back a
nd forth. “I’m sorry.” Her soft whisper finally answers my question. “This is all my fault.”

  “What?” Reaching for her skinny shoulder, I pull her up. She’s the only person I’ve ever known who looks pretty even when she’s crying. “Why would you say something like that?”

  “I tried cutting my hair off. I tried not brushing my teeth—”

  “Don’t be doing shit like that!” I snap, turning to face front. The rain keeps splashing on my side getting me even wetter. “We can’t afford a dentist.”

  “I don’t know what to do, Zee.”

  Pressing my lips together, I clench my fists on top of my knees. “We ain’t going back into no foster home. I’ll take care of us.”

  “But how?” Her voice breaks as it goes high in a whisper.

  “Hell, I don’t know, but I got all night to figure it out.” I press my front teeth together and think. We’re not that far from being legal. I’m seventeen, but Ava’s only fifteen. Looking at the sand on my shoes, I get an idea. “We got one thing going for us.”

  “What’s that?” My little sister sniffs, and I hear the tiniest flicker of hope in her voice. She’ll trust whatever I tell her, and I take that responsibility very seriously.

  “We live in the greatest state to be homeless. Sunny Florida.”

  “Okay?” Her slim brows wrinkle, and the tears in her eyes make them look like the ocean.

  “We don’t have to worry about getting cold or anything. We don’t have to worry about snow…” I’m thinking hard, assembling a plan in my mind. “During the day, we fly under the radar—keep your head down, don’t attract attention. I’ll see what I can find us to eat. At night we can sleep on the beach. Or here, or hell, maybe one of these rich assholes forgets to lock his boathouse. Have you seen how nice some of these boathouses are? They’re like regular houses!”