Big Deck

by Blake Wilder

  She nodded. “He’s a narcissist who thinks he’s always right and that he’s better than everyone at everything.” She looked at me directly. “He’s the type of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to hit on the daughter of his dead ex-wife.”

  Alarm bells went off in my head. “You know him?”

  “He was with my mom for three years.”

  “But…” I shoved a hand through my hair. “You’re planning to sleep with him to get the painting back?” No. Fuck no. That was not going to happen.

  Again, the possessiveness I felt for this woman amazed me.

  “No.” She frowned at me. “But I do plan to play to his ego. Tell him how my mom never appreciated him, and how I missed him so much after they broke up.”

  My stomach tightened. “No,” I said firmly.

  She looked surprised. “You don’t have a vote in this.”

  “I do. You are not going to make this man think you like him and disparage your mother.”

  “I am getting that painting back,” she said stubbornly. “I don’t care what I have to do to do it.”

  “We’re just going to flat-out steal it,” I told her. “He’s not going to have a chance to put a single finger on you.”

  “We?” she asked, clearly stunned. “Why are you suddenly so invested in this?”

  I leaned in and grasped her chin, making sure she was looking directly in my eyes. “Remember what I said about you and your pussy being mine? That stands.”

  Her eyes flared with heat, but she said, “I’m not going to let him touch me.”

  “You’re damned right you’re not.”

  She swallowed and I couldn’t help but drag my thumb along her jaw and down her throat.

  “But I have to get close to him,” she said softly. “And I can’t put a year into gaining his trust. Because he knows me, he’ll trust me faster. I never had a problem with him when he was with my mom.”

  “Did he hit on you?”

  “He…watched me. Gave me the creeps. But I stayed away from him. Was never alone with him. Nothing ever happened.”

  Fuck. I didn’t want her anywhere near this guy. I didn’t want him to think for one second that she might be an easy mark or worse, his to touch and take. The tightness in my gut moved up to my chest. Dammit, I’d never felt this way about a woman before. “There are other ways of finding out where the painting is and getting it back. Who is this?”

  She swallowed again and I stroked the pad of my thumb over her neck. I leaned in and put my lips against her skin, dragging my mouth along the same path. “Trust me, Liv,” I said huskily, slipping the nickname in there without conscious thought. “Let me help you.”

  Her head fell back slightly and I was so caught up in how silky her skin was and holding myself back from marking her there with my teeth, that I almost didn’t hear her say, “Warren Maxwell.”

  My head came up quickly. “What did you say?”

  She blinked at me as if trying to remember. “Warren Maxwell. That’s who’s got my mom’s painting.”

  Oh.

  Fuck.

  Four

  I couldn’t read Dec’s expression. He looked like I’d just slapped him. But I could have been wrong about his surprise. He also looked possessive and hot and that was distracting me.

  “Okay,” Dec said after a second. “We’ll figure out where Warren Maxwell has your painting and we’ll go in and get it back.”

  Did his voice sound funny when he said Warren’s name? I supposed that Dec could know who Warren was. He played poker in the Vegas casinos. He owned this house.

  I looked up at the gorgeous not-quite-a-mansion-but-holy-shit house. Yeah, he might have run into Maxwell at some point. Warren stayed away from the casinos. Like a true narcissist who cared only about himself, he looked down on the people who gambled on the strip, even though they made him obscenely wealthy. He made even more money in other nefarious ways. I didn’t know the details, but that was because I’d chosen to ignore it all. But nothing would surprise me.

  “Just like that?” I asked. “No meeting him for lunch?”

  I couldn’t lie. Not cozying up to Maxwell and telling him what a great guy he was would be more than fine with me.

  But I didn’t think breaking into Maxwell’s house and getting the painting that way was necessary. I could also disarm his security system at his house and let Dec in. We didn’t need to pick locks or climb up the side of the house in black ski masks or anything. But I wasn’t sharing that with Dec just yet. All of this was making my head spin. He wasn’t who I’d thought he was. But I’d known him for like two hours. Nothing he’d said had exactly shocked me either.

  I studied Declan. So, he was a thief. That might be handy. I got the feeling he was a high-end one at that. Was there a rating scale for thieves and criminals? Surely. Maybe they weren’t on Angie’s List, but not just everyone could steal jewelry and art, right? It wasn’t like robbing a convenience store.

  “Well.” Declan seemed to be thinking. “There might be a good reason to send you in there. I need to make a plan.”

  He wasn’t as worried suddenly? I’d really liked his hot, protective reaction to the idea a minute ago. I’d really liked the bit about me—and my pussy—being his. I shouldn’t. That was some possessive shit there. I didn’t go for that. But my panties would tell a different tale at the moment.

  “You said—”

  He pinned me with an intense look. “I will keep you safe, Liv. No matter how we do this.”

  Liv.

  No one had called me Liv other than my mom. The name made warmth curl through my stomach. Different from the heat throbbing just south of there. Nice all the same, though.

  Not to mention his continued use of we. He was talking about us stealing something. Committing a crime. But it still made me feel warm. I hadn’t had someone on my side like this since I’d left my mom and Vegas behind. She and I had been a team. I was stunned by how nice it felt to have a partner again.

  This painting meant a lot to me and there was something about Dec’s easy acceptance and his agreement that I needed to get the painting back that would have made me want to strip him down and do very nice, naughty things to him. If I hadn’t already wanted to do that.

  “Okay,” I said softly. I had no real reason to trust this guy other than my gut telling me I could. But my gut had been my best friend for a long time. “I trust you.”

  Those three words made something flare in his eyes that looked a lot like the lust I’d already seen. But how could me trusting him make him want me? I was becoming a problem actually. A burden.

  He leaned in and kissed me suddenly. Okay, maybe he didn’t feel I was a burden exactly. His mouth was hot and he completely took mine. He stroked his tongue deep and firm, as if marking his territory. His hand held my face so that I couldn’t really move. It was a dominant gesture and, again, it occurred to me briefly that I shouldn’t like it.

  But I did.

  Every single thing in my life was up to me to plan and execute. From buying more eggs at the store to making my presentations at work completely kick ass. Until a few minutes ago, I’d thought I was going to have to steal the only material possession that had ever really mattered to my mom by myself too. The woman who had pursued men specifically because they could provide lots of very nice material possessions had only valued that one painting that she’d bought for herself. That mattered a lot. Dec seemed to get that. He was going to help me. I wasn’t alone.

  Now it felt like he wanted to take over other things between us. Like exactly how the sex was going to go. I’d never been into submission and stuff. It had never turned me on to be bossed around. It was why I’d worked my ass off to be so good, so successful, so inarguably the best that no one would think to try to tell me what to do.

  After knowing Declan Black for only a couple of hours, I was ready to do anything he wanted me to do.

  So I just let him kiss me. It was hot and delicious and awesome and I could easil
y imagine his tongue stroking between my legs just the way he was stroking my tongue.

  I was certain that was his intention.

  He was good.

  When he finally lifted his head, I was breathing like I’d just sprinted to the car after seeing a bear.

  “Let’s go inside.”

  I nodded eagerly.

  “I’ll go first. The painting is in my study.”

  I blinked at him. “Huh?”

  “You’re going to try to steal my painting, remember?”

  “Oh.” I swallowed. “We’re still doing that?”

  “We are absolutely still doing that.”

  I blew out a breath. Shit. I’d never stolen anything like a painting from a guy’s house. This was way bigger than cheating at poker or counting cards at Blackjack. But it was exactly what I was going to be doing, wasn’t it? Stealing the painting from Warren’s house? I wasn’t going to sneak in and try to find it without knowing where anything was in the house. I was going to tap into his home security system and totally survey the house before my foot even hit his driveaway.

  But I couldn’t deny the adrenaline rush I felt thinking about Dec’s proposal. I might lose the challenge—i.e., not find the painting and get it out of the house before he caught me—but I had nothing to fear here. It was a game. It felt a lot like it had when I’d realized Dec knew I was cheating at poker. We were on the same team and he found my sneakiness sexy. I felt the same way about him.

  Hey, I realized that was messed up. At least I was owning it. Stealing and cheating and lying was wrong.

  But damn, adrenaline still pumped through my veins.

  The people who sat down at poker tables were there to gamble. They knew in the back of their minds that there was a good chance they were going to lose. They, hopefully—if they were smart—only bet as much as they could afford to lose. If not, well, that was their fault.

  As for Warren Maxwell, well, he was not a good guy. He’d stolen the painting from my mom. I was just getting my property back.

  So, there was no guilt about the things I did.

  Being attracted to a guy who had a past of thievery and cheating? I don’t know. Let’s blame it on me not having a dad. That worked as a pretty good excuse for most things I didn’t want to examine too closely and didn’t want to take responsibility for.

  “Okay, how’s this going to work?” I asked.

  “I’m going to go into the house,” he said. “You’re going to come in and try to take the painting.”

  That seemed simple enough. “How long should I wait?”

  “However long you want. I can’t know when you’re going to come in for sure.”

  I nodded. “And where will you be? How do I get to the study?”

  He laughed and reached for the door handle. “You think you’re going to know all of that at Warren Maxwell’s house?”

  Well, I definitely hoped so. I planned to know those things.

  But I was definitely willing to go along with this. In fact, I was looking forward to it.

  “Okay.”

  He gave me a long look. “You’re excited about this. The idea of playing with me gets you going.”

  It totally did. I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  He reached out and actually took one of my nipples—my hard, pressing-against-the-front-of-my-shirt nipples—between a thumb and forefinger. He squeezed lightly and said, “Yeah, maybe.”

  All of the air left my lungs and heat pounded from my nipple to my clit. My pussy was wet and hot immediately.

  He gave me a knowing smile and got out of the car.

  I watched him walk into the house, still trying to breathe normally. My whole body was tingling and throbbing. Holy. Crap.

  I was going to cry if we didn’t both end up naked and fucking like rabbits by the end of this night.

  I had no idea how long to wait to go inside. There had been lights already burning in the house when we pulled up. I guessed that having the lights automatically come on at a certain time of night was a part of his security system. But I watched the windows to see if any new lights came on now that he was inside.

  Was he going to leave the door unlocked or the security system off? He had to give me that much help here. I was going to disarm Warren’s security system so I didn’t need to practice any other way of getting in.

  Finally, I got out of the car. I could do a little research from the outside of the house. I could see into some of the rooms and could possibly find the study from out here.

  Declan’s house was beautifully landscaped and moving around the bushes and stepping on the rocks was a little hazardous. But I couldn’t very well go barefoot out here. I made my way to the side of the house and peeked around the corner. Living room. I worked my way around to the back of the house and located the kitchen. And where Dec was. He was in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and his phone.

  He was checking texts and emails right now?

  I frowned.

  Or he was watching me on the security cameras located around his property.

  I looked around but didn’t see any obvious cameras. That didn’t mean they weren’t there. Surex Security Systems cameras were very well camouflaged.

  Oh well, I hadn’t thought of that. Again, that wouldn’t be a problem at Warren’s house. Even if I wasn’t invited in, I definitely could find out where his cameras were. I could get into my company’s files and find out where they’d been installed without even breaking any rules. Or laws.

  At the back of the house, I found the study. Ah ha. It was a gorgeous, huge room with enormous windows that looked out over the dark valley. Of course it was at the back of the house, which meant a lot of ground to cover before I got to it. But I knew how to get there and I even spotted the painting. It hung on the wall directly opposite of his desk and it wasn’t at all what I had been expecting. It was a painting of a little country cottage, surrounded by fields and flowers. It was very provincial for a Vegas thief.

  This guy was so fascinating.

  I snuck back around to the front of the house the same way I’d come, checking that Dec was still in the kitchen.

  He was, still occupied on his phone, so I headed for the front door. I tested the latch and, sure enough, it was unlocked. I slowly and softly pushed the door inward and slipped around the edge. I shut it behind me with the tiniest click before surveying the foyer.

  There was a huge staircase directly in front of me and it looked like a hallway led off to each side of the stairs to the back of the house. The living room I’d looked into was directly to my right. The kitchen had to be down the hallway on the right side, which meant that the left might lead to the study. At least that side of the house. I started to take a step but looked down at my shoes. They’d make noise on the marble floor. I slipped them off and slipped them behind the potted plant to my left. He wouldn’t see them there but they’d also be available for me to grab on my escape. I didn’t want to go running outside without them. I noticed the mud from the landscaping on the bottoms. Taking them off was even smarter now. I didn’t want to leave footprints.

  Suddenly the lights went off. All of the lights.

  What the hell? I froze.

  The house had a ton of windows so it wasn’t pitch black inside, and once my eyes adjusted a little, I could still see enough outlines and shapes to know where things were. I waited and a second later I heard him coming down the hall. Did he know I was in here? All he’d have to do was glance outside to see that I wasn’t sitting in the car anymore.

  I quickly darted to my left, heading down that hallway. Just around the corner, I pressed myself up against the wall in the dark, listening hard.

  I heard the sound of his footsteps on the marble floor, then the creak of a step. He was heading upstairs? That was perfect. This was going to be so easy.

  I turned to my right, starting down the hallway. I thought through the first-floor layout in my head and passed the first two closed doors. The third one though…that co
uld be it. I reached for the knob and turned. It was open and I pushed it open to reveal the study. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  It was darker in here and I thought about turning on a light. Getting the painting off the wall might not be as simple as lifting it off. I tried to remember what was in front of the painting. Had there been a table? Maybe a chair?

  I moved deeper into the room. The form of the desk was clear, but I was worried about whacking my shins on a coffee table or ottoman. It seemed there had been one or the other, but now I couldn’t remember. I hadn’t studied the room the way I should have. I hadn’t thought about the possibility of not having light.

  Okay, so this was a good lesson. I needed to think through lots of different scenarios.

  Thanks, Dec. Got it.

  I bent slightly, moving my hands back and forth in front of me, feeling for anything in my path.

  But the sound of the door shutting behind me made me spin, my heart thundering, surprise and the sudden dump of adrenaline into my system making my brain whirl for a moment. I wasn’t able to think or go through any scenarios for saving myself because I was too surprised.

  Shit. That was another good lesson.

  My eyes scanned the room in the dark. “Dec?” I whispered.

  Why was I whispering? Of course it was Declan.

  Or if it wasn’t I needed to be screaming, not whispering. There was just something about the dark that made me automatically whisper.

  No one whispered—or spoke—back.

  I frowned. Had the door shut by itself? If it had…I was now shut in here. I mean, it surely wasn’t locked. But I still had a door between me and my escape route. I wouldn’t be able to open the door and carry the painting at the same time. I wasn’t even sure how big the painting was, now that I was thinking about it. How tall and wide. How heavy. Would it even fit in the back seat of Dec’s car if I got it that far? Not that it needed to. We weren’t going to put it in his car. But I’d need to know if my painting would fit in my rental before I swiped it.