Touched by a Thief

by Jana Mercy

  “I want to look in your eyes when I make you cum again.”

  She nodded. She lay on the plush carpet, vaguely wondering if their lovemaking would leave burns on her skin, but not caring enough to suggest stopping. She’d had worse than carpet burns from things not nearly as pleasant as orgasmic sex.

  Raised off her and supporting most of his weight, Gerard cocked his hips and plunged deep into her womb.

  Pleasure shot through her.

  “Don’t close your eyes,” he ordered.

  She immediately opened the eyes she hadn’t realized she’d closed.

  Wrapping her legs around his, she met him thrust for thrust. Pleasure curled and weaved its way through her body, taking every nerve cell captive.

  Waves of tingles pulsed, causing her to squeeze his cock with her vagina. Her muscles beat to the pulse, milking his hard length, causing his legendary control to shatter and spill inside her in a frenzied pistoning of his hips.

  Spent, he collapsed on her, kissed her forehead.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, inhaling his musky scent. The scent of a man who’d made passionate love to a woman.

  A man who’d rescued her when she’d been locked away from the world.

  A man who’d just given her a great deal of pleasure and had no idea she’d come to betray him.

  Jealousy, potent and blinding, whipped through Ian at the smile of satisfaction on the woman’s face. From the moment Monty entered the fancy dining room, he’d watched every move she made via surveillance equipment he’d installed months ago. Until tonight, he’d never caught anything of interest.

  He’d almost shit in his pants when she offered herself to the sleek bastard he currently worked for.

  When she’d taken Gerard’s cock into her lovely throat, he’d battled thunderous urges he had no business feeling. Urges that made him want to punch the other man’s too perfect face into a pulverized mess. Urges that made him want his cock in Monty’s hot mouth.

  Monty was more woman than most men could handle. Definitely more woman than the bastard restoring his clothing deserved.

  Ian leaned back, tugged at his jeans to ease the constraint on his throbbing cock and stared at the computer monitor.

  Had that been him, he’d have bent Monty over one of those chairs and fucked her. Before the meal. During the meal. Afterwards, too.

  He closed his eyes, visualized how she’d looked, naked, before Gerard’s hands soiled her. When it had been her hands splayed over her belly, touching. Touching where he wanted his hands. His mouth.

  He’d slide his palms over her long legs, her smooth round ass, grab her hips, and push deep inside those sweet wet walls of hers.

  Memories of how Monty’s wetness enveloped his hardness washed over him.

  Never had he met a woman like her.

  Never had he wanted a woman more.

  And never had he been not been able to leave a woman behind and move on to the next one to cross his path, but Monty haunted his dreams.

  But from the beginning, she’d been a mark. A pawn needed to bring down the lucky bastard who she’d just spread her beautiful legs for.

  Not so long ago, that had been him she touched, wanted, but she hadn’t even known who he was, what he was. All she’d known was the undercover garbage he’d fed her, doing as Kincaid bid with the exception of actually doing Monty. For a few blissful weeks he’d been her lover and partner in crime. Amazingly, she’d fancied herself in love with him, which didn’t fit her profile, and had made him wonder if she’d somehow seen through his ruse and was testing him. Only at the look of betrayal in her eyes when she’d realized he’d set her up to take the fall for the jewels they’d stolen together did he realize Monty had truly cared for him and he’d battled unfamiliar guilt.

  Damn it, he’d only been doing his job.

  She’d never forgive him.

  What was he thinking? He didn’t need her forgiveness, didn’t need a damned thing from her. Except to use her to get to the DeGassi. She was the key.

  Ian stared at the screen, hating how his dick throbbed for the woman pulling her hair away from her face and laughing at something Kincaid said. Hating how she haunted his dreams and he couldn’t get past the completeness he’d felt during the weeks they’d shared, the weeks when he’d pretended she was the center of his existence.

  Surely when this case closed, his desire for Monty would fade. Hopefully that would be damned soon, because watching her fuck another man was proving a more difficult assignment than any he’d known, and for a man with his past that was saying something.

  Chapter Four

  Monty stretched out lazily and wondered how long the government would allow her the luxury of being pampered by Gerard and enjoying the comforts of being his mistress.

  For the past two weeks, her days had been much the same, and she spent most of her time playing with Gerard. Sexual play and physical play. Although they’d fought on the night they met and his no doubt research on her past, he’d been surprised when she’d asked him about working out with him. After heated lovemaking, they battled in Gerard’s highly equipped exercise room. Initially, Gerard held back, but this morning he’d let loose and they’d went at each other.

  As with the night they’d met, the heat of battle left both with high adrenaline and need for sexual release. He’d taken her, right there on the mat covering the floor. Then he’d carried her to his bedroom.

  The fact she’d let him carry her said a lot. She wasn’t one prone to allow a man to carry her, preferring to be thought of as an equal. Gerard knew this, and would hopefully see her submission as a sign of her guard down. She needed his guard down so she could find the Degassi.

  In his bedroom, he’d made love to her again. A slow, taming of her body with his cock buried within her. She had to admit, she was happier than she’d have ever believed she could be after Ian.

  No, she’d promised herself she wasn’t going to let that lying, stealing, back-stabbing bastard intrude on her present. Once she’d accomplished what she’d come to do, Ian would consume her future. Revenge couldn’t come soon enough.

  Still, she didn’t trust Gerard. Sure, he’d rescued her from prison, but he’d soon tire of her body and then he’d move on to some other lovely.

  Then where would she be? Still a jewel thief? Robbing from those with excess and selling her wares to fund an organization that provided food, education, and hope to third world countries? Reality was that without her generous autonomous influx of funds to the charity through the bogus corporation she’d set up, the charity couldn’t do a fraction of the things it currently accomplished. And still it wasn’t enough. Countries like Darfar and the crisis the people there faced was proof enough of that.

  But would the government watch her, be waiting for her to slip up so they could haul her back to jail? She wouldn’t go. She’d rather die than loose her freedom again.

  But what she did want, what did cause the sense of restlessness in her blood, was the need to seek vengeance against Ian.

  After her lack of amenities for the past few months, she’d lazed in the luxuries of Gerard’s home, healing that feminine part of her that ached from Ian’s callous treatment of her trust. But inside, she felt the itchy niggles of the need for adventure, that adrenaline rush she craved, the next steal.

  Her next steal was a diamond she’d yet to find out anything about.

  Her stomach knotted.

  She rolled over and her eyes lit on a jeweler’s box on the night stand. Another gift.

  Gerard spoiled her. Gave her expensive baubles. Bracelets, earrings, rings. But no necklaces. Instinctively, she knew it was because he wanted her to wear the necklace he’d given to her so long ago. She wore it each night when they met in the dining room for their evening meal.

  Enjoying his attention much more than she should thanks to months of enforced depravity, she grabbed the box and opened the velvet lined container.

  Her breath caught and she ran her f
inger over the large stone.

  A ring. A large diamond and sapphire ring that matched the necklace.

  “Oh Gerard,” she breathed, sensing he’d entered the room. “It’s gorgeous, but you really have to stop buying me things.”

  “Perhaps he thinks if he lavishes you with enough jewels he won’t have to bail you out of jail for theft again.”

  The voice more so than the words had her spinning toward the door.

  Larger than life with his dark, dark hair and his even darker eyes Ian filled the door frame.

  Oh hell.

  Her heart raced and her lungs failed to pull in enough oxygen to clear her head. Ian.

  His gaze trailed over her, from where their eyes met to downward, making her acutely aware that she lay naked in Gerard’s bed. That the sheet bunched at her waist and her nipples strained in Ian’s direction.

  Amusement toyed on his lips at her body’s obvious reaction to him. “Looks like you’re happy to see me.”

  “You bastard,” she spat, sitting up, but not bothering to cover her nakedness. Why should she? He’d seen it all up close and personal numerous times before.

  Pushing off the door he shrugged.

  He advanced toward her and for a brief moment her body cried for her to pull him into the bed, to take him into her body in remembered bliss. Her heart cried in joy at being near the one person who had the power to make her heart beat faster and slower at the same time. Then she remembered this was Ian. Ian, who’d set her up to take a fall, who’d pretty much bought the ticket that sent her to jail.

  The first man she’d trusted, perhaps ever, and he’d taken that trust and shattered it into a million pieces.

  Her fists clenched. She fought flinging herself at him. She wanted to attack. Clawing out his eyes and ripping off his dick would go a long way to making her feel better.

  Then it hit her. Ian was in Gerard’s bedroom. In Gerard’s apartment.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” The fact he had slipped past Gerard’s minions and security system got her juices flowing. But then, in many ways Ian had been her equal, loving the thrill of adrenaline as much as she. He’d tracked her down. Why? Did he regret his stabbing her in the back?

  “What?” He stood next to the bed, his eyes glittering like light bouncing off onyx. “You’re going to deny you’re glad to see me? That even while you lie naked in another man’s bed your body isn’t wet from my being near?”

  She was wet from his being near. Damn him.

  “Get the hell out of here, Ian. Gerard will kill you if he finds you in our bedroom.”

  For the briefest second she thought something dark and heated flared in his eyes. Jealousy? But she decided she must have been wrong, because he laughed. “He might try.”

  God, would that ever be a cock fight if Gerard and Ian came face-to-face. Both arrogant, sure of themselves, each thinking they were the dominant male, each would have to prove they were the alpha. She clenched her thighs, trying to tamper her mounting sexual awareness. If ever she were going to be a third in a threesome, she’d want Ian and Gerard completing the triangle. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, trying to force the image of both men, naked and vying for her attention, licking her, touching, caressing, one forcing her mouth around him while the other pounded her pussy.

  “Besides, why would he care I’m here?” Ian’s eyes landed on her breasts and gave an appreciative perusal of the beaded peaks. She swallowed. How could he make her so needy? She’d had two fabulous weeks with Gerard. It wasn’t as if she could claim depravation from her imprisonment. Gerard had treated her as if they were honeymooners and lavished her with his attention. Much more so than what she’d expected. Or deserved.

  “Kincaid sent me.” Ian’s cock sureness annoyed the hell out of her.

  “Gerard?” She eyed him suspiciously, not allowing her gaze to travel over the form-fitting black t-shirt he wore, the tight black jeans that caressed his narrow hips and muscular thighs. But even without directly looking, the vision sank in, burning itself into her retina and tensing her body. Damn him.

  Ian sank to the edge of the bed, near her, and she fought scampering back. He couldn’t touch her. She craved his touch. Would shatter into a thousand pieces if his skin met hers. He couldn’t touch her. Not after what he did. Why did he hold such power over her?

  His dark gaze turned lethal, as if he read her thoughts. As if he knew her body tingled with awareness of him. He did know, had always known. And the bastard liked it. Which was her saving grace when he yanked the sheet back, exposing the rest of her nakedness.

  He drank her in, a visual touch that skimmed up her legs, caressed her inner thighs, skimmed over her mons.

  Anger at his arrogance held her in place, allowed him to look. Despite his nonchalant stance, the pulse at his throat hammered. Ian may have betrayed her, but he still wanted her.

  A wicked gleam lit inside her, filling her with sweet vengeance. Her gaze dropped to his straining zipper. “Looks like you’re happy to see me,” she drawled in imitation of his earlier taunt. This time, she’d be the one to use the chemistry between them to her advantage. She’d beat him at his own game.

  She leaned forward, not touching but close. So close she imagined she could feel the pounding of his heart. Perhaps it was only the thudding of her own overpowering her senses.

  “Monty.” Her name left his lips in a sigh, his breath brushing against her skin.

  “What’s wrong, Ian?” she attacked, going on the offense before his nearness put her on the defensive. “Feeling guilty at how you tossed me to the cops?”

  His gaze darted to hers. “If you weren’t guilty, they wouldn’t have convicted you.”

  “Wouldn’t they? You screwed me, Ian.” She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with air, accidentally brushing her nipples against the soft material stretched across his broad chest. Shards of glass pierced every cell in her body, pricking her with pleasure and pain.

  “That I did.” His hand lifted and her treacherous body tingled with the knowledge that he was going to touch her.

  Horrid female creature that she was, she wanted just that. To have the betraying bastard touch her, kiss her, be inside her, fucking her with that big cock of his, making her cum and cum.

  But instead of touching her, he straightened from the bed. “Too bad I don’t like sloppy seconds, eh?”

  His words cut to the quick, reminded her that mere hours ago she’d been tangled with Gerard, rutting in pleasure. Fury filled her. Why had she let Ian get to her? Why had she always let him get to her?

  She stood, glared at him, standing on tip-toes to reach eye-to-eye. “I hate you.”

  He snorted, whether in amusement, disbelief, or I-don’t-give-a-fuck, she wasn’t sure. In that moment she wanted Ian to hurt, wanted him to hurt every bit as much as she did, more. She wanted him to writhe in pain.

  “If it’s the last thing I do I’ll make you pay for what you did to me,” she warned.

  His gaze still locked with hers, he arched a brow. “Just what did I do, Monty? Is what bothers you the most that I got away and you didn’t? Or is it that you fancied yourself in love with me whilst I only saw our relationship for what it was? Purely physical, pleasant while it lasted, but never anything more.”

  She’d gone back for him, gotten caught because he’d been careless and she’d refused to leave him. He’d practically gift-wrapped her for the cops while he high-tailed it to freedom.

  She’d never trust again.

  “Get dressed. Gerard’s gone.”

  Gerard. Ian had said Gerard sent him.

  Dawning hit her with the force of a lightening bolt. “You work for Gerard.”

  Oh God no. Please don’t be true.

  Ian flashed a lethal smile. “Give the lady a prize.”

  Monty took a step back, the back of her thighs brushing against the bed. “Did you work for him when we met?”

  Ian hesitated just long enough Monty was positive he wa
sn’t telling her the whole story and that his hesitation was intentional, that he wanted her to squirm with the truth. “I work for Gerard.”

  She grabbed his shirt, bunching the soft black material in her fist. “Did you work for Gerard when we met?”

  Black onyx glittered. “Yes.”

  “Oh hell.”

  Another grin.

  She let go of his shirt and fell back to the bed, sitting naked on the edge, a sinking feeling low in her gut. “Gerard hired you to set me up, didn’t he?”

  That’s how he’d known she was in prison, perhaps even why she’d received such a harsh sentence. Who’d ever heard of a case being tried so rush-rush. After playing it smart for so long, she’d been had. In a big way. By more than one man. Was there even a fucking Degassi Diamond? Just what role, if any, did the government play in all this?

  She kicked Ian in the shin. He didn’t flinch, didn’t act as if the blow even fazed him. However, her bare toes contacting with the hard lines of his body in a powerful crunch watered her eyes and she fought grabbing them and dancing around in pain. Damn.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  “I’m leaving.” Lifting her chin high and avoiding looking at the smug bastard in front of her, she stood and sauntered toward where the multitude of clothes Gerard had bought her were stored in a closet bigger than most people’s bedroom. She’d take everything he bought her and pawn it at the first shop she came to, use the money to get her out of the country.

  Strong fingers closed around her upper arm, stopping her. “You can’t go.”