Caden
I followed her, though she didn’t see me. Feisty little thing, calling me out on my shit. No one ever does that. I get away with everything. Hell, I’m a criminal. I steal jewelry for a living and I’ve yet to be caught. I’m either extremely lucky or extremely good.
I’m going with the former mixed with a hint of the latter.
It’s easy to believe the lies I tell myself. I staked her out because I want another chance at that necklace. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I found her, why I’m following her.
But deep down inside, I know that’s not the truth. I’m here because I wanted to see her again. Talk to her. Touch her. Kiss her …
It feels like a battle of wills every time I interact with Rose and I like that. She feels like a challenge. And there is nothing that I appreciate more than a challenge. No woman has ever truly interested me because they always feel so damn easy.
But not Rose. She gives off mixed signals. I know she’s attracted to me. Last night I’d barely touched her, kissed her, and the minute I had my fingers between her thighs, she was drenched. That had been hot.
Everything about her is hot, even when she’s mad. And I definitely make her mad. I almost enjoy it.
Fine. I do enjoy it. Around her I feel like a twelve-year-old antagonizing the girl he has a wild crush on. I’ve turned into a stupid twelve-year-old giving the girl he likes endless grief. I lose all my cool when I’m around her.
The moment she walked away—again—I let her go. But I never let her out of my sight. I kept my distance as I followed her, tracking her every movement, and she stopped at a lot of the shops, wandering in for a few minutes before she came back out empty-handed. She’d stashed the remaining new panties in her tiny purse, and every once in a while I’d see a flash of turquoise lace peek out of the top of the black leather. Or neon pink lace.
Looks like Rose has a fondness for bright colors.
I tell myself I’m still following her so I can get to the necklace. The fucking necklace I can’t forget about, though the woman who wore it looms in my mind much more than the stupid necklace. That’s what I should be focusing on. That’s what I tell myself.
But I want the woman too. I want the woman more.
After almost an hour of aimless wandering, she finally makes her way to a hotel. She’s staying at the Covent Garden Hotel, how original. If I’d had a single cell in my brain, I would have gone there first and just waited for her. Nigel had mentioned casually last night that Rose was staying at a hotel near the pub.
Increasing my pace¸ I catch up with her without being too obvious, not wanting her to notice me yet. She strides across the street, looking this way and that, and I follow after her once she enters the lobby, eager to reach her before she ends up in the elevator and I can’t find her.
I’m intent on getting into her room. She wants me. I want her. This is an easy second chance to snag that necklace. Why are we playing these games anyway?
You’re more to blame than she is.
Yeah. No shit.
I enter the lobby of the Covent Garden Hotel and see her standing at the registration desk, talking with two male employees. They’ve got dopey smiles on their faces, nodding and “yes, miss-ing” her over every single thing she’s saying.
Suckers. She’s got them wrapped around her finger, just like that.
It almost infuriates me, because I feel just as suckered as they are.
“Thank you for your help,” she murmurs just as I come up behind her. She turns, stopping short when she finds me standing in front of her, and that cute scowl is back. Her eyes narrow and her mouth forms into a little sneer. “Not you again.”
“I wanted to return these to you,” I say solemnly as I thrust the bag toward her, the lingerie store’s name blatant on the side. The hotel employees are doing their best to act uninterested, but they’re watching us. I can feel their gazes, sense their curiosity.
The scowl vanishes and is now replaced with faint embarrassment. “Um, thanks,” she says, her voice soft as she takes the bag from me. Our fingers brush, and the heat that shoots through me at her touch makes my knees fucking weak. It’s not just electric. It’s magnetic. Like we’re drawn to each other despite everything else. We can’t fight it.
I don’t want to fight it.
Rose feels it too. I can tell by the way her eyelids waver, the little shuddery breath that escapes her. She’s affected by me.
Good. She affects me, too. I’m tired of wasting time.
“Hey, you want to—” Before I can come up with something to say she’s cutting me off, interrupting me as if she knows what I’m asking her.
“That would be great. Just—let me drop this off in my room first.” She lifts the bag and then starts walking, leaving me no choice but to follow after her.
She doesn’t protest. Doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t send me a look as she stops at the elevator doors and hits the up button. “You really want me to come with you?” I ask, my voice low.
Rose nods, still not looking my way. “Please.”
Triumph surges through me when the elevator doors slide open and I follow her inside, waiting until those doors slide shut. I turn and grab hold of her by the waist, the shopping bag falling to the floor as she wraps her arms around my neck and tilts her head back, ready for my kiss.
But I don’t give it to her. Not yet.
Instead I touch her face, skim my fingers down her cheek, along her jaw. Her eyelids flutter and she exhales shakily. “You followed me,” she whispers. “Again.”
“I did.” There’s no point in denying it. “I can’t stay away from you.”
“My own personal stalker.”
“I wouldn’t call what I’m doing stalking.” I touch her lips, the soft plumpness sending a surge of heat straight to my cock. I want those lips wrapped tight around my dick. Whitney offered me a blow job last night when we came home from the pub, but I turned her down. After walking away from Rose with aching blue balls, I still didn’t want one. At least, I didn’t want one from Whit.
The only person who could have given me satisfaction is this woman right here, in my arms.
“What would you call it, then?” she asks. I’m tracing her perfectly shaped mouth, my finger getting caught between her lips, and I can feel the damp heat of her tongue.
Fuck.
“Hot pursuit.” I slide my finger deeper into her mouth and she accepts it, circling it with her tongue. “Show me what you can do.” My voice drops about ten octaves with my request.
She furrows her eyebrows and pulls my finger out of her mouth. “Show you what I can do with what?”
“Pretend it’s my cock in your mouth,” I whisper. “Show me what you would do.”
Her eyes darken, honey gold and electrifying as she grabs hold of my wrist and draws my entire finger into her mouth, right to the base. She holds it there, her gaze never leaving mine, her tongue sliding over my skin, her entire mouth sucking and then she’s withdrawing, dragging her tongue along the side of my finger before she gets to the tip and sucks just that part back into her mouth.
“Jesus,” I mutter, my skin tight and hot, my cock straining. She smiles and I trace that pretty smile with my damp finger, her hand dropping away from my wrist at the exact time the elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open.
“Come on,” she says, and I grab the bag from the floor before I follow after her, my blood pumping, my head spinning. Everything inside of me is a jangling, out-of-control mess, clamoring to get at her and strip her clothes off, feast on her naked flesh, sink deep inside her hot, wet body and lose myself. Forget about the world.
At least for a little while before I get back to business and grab that damn necklace.
Rose tries to open the door with shaky fingers, shoving the key card in again and again, but the light flashes yellow every time, making her curse. I gently push her out of the way and pull the key out of the slot, then shove it back in slowly.
The light turns green.
“Slow and easy, baby.” Flashing her a triumphant smile, I open the door and take her hand, pulling her inside. The bag goes flying onto a nearby table, the key card dropped onto the floor as I grab hold of Rose by her slender waist and pull her in to me, our chests meeting, legs tangling. We eye each other, breaths mingling, hearts thumping in time. Adrenaline pours through me as I cup her face with one hand and take her lips with mine.
I consume her and she consumes me right back, our mouths wide, our tongues dancing. She slides her leg up, close to my hip, and it’s like she’s trying to climb me. I break the kiss first and she nips at my chin, the sting of her sharp teeth making me wince.
“Careful,” I murmur.
She smiles, nuzzling my cheek with hers. “I want you.”
“Then get on your knees,” I command, dying to see how fast she’ll agree, but preparing for a fight.
Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t fight. She falls to her knees without hesitation. Her hands go to the waistband of my jeans to undo the snap before she tugs down the zipper, spreading the fly open to reveal my black boxer briefs. My cock strains against the thin cotton and she smiles, drawing her index finger along the length of my dick, making it twitch.
“I owe you, don’t I?” she asks as she tilts her head back, the sultry expression on her pretty face just about doing me in.
What is it about this woman? I should be casing her room for jewelry. Normally I would be. That damn Poppy Necklace is here. I can feel it. At the very least, I should be searching for it. Fuck her hard, wait till she falls asleep, and then go on the hunt.
But that’s the last thing I want to do. Oh, I definitely plan on fucking her hard. Again and again, until the both of us fall asleep. I feel anything but normal in the presence of Rose Fowler.
And that should scare the ever-loving fuck out of me.
She’s also talking about owing me and she’s the last person to be in debt to me. No one is in debt to me. More like I’m in debt to everyone else.
“You owe me for what?” I hold my breath as her fingers curl around the band of my underwear, her fingertips brushing against my stomach, making the muscles there flinch.
Her lips curve. “For last night.”
Not that I’m keeping count of orgasms or anything, but hey. I’m not about to refuse a blow job. “Take your clothes off first.”
She releases her hold on my underwear and I feel the loss of her touch like a physical blow. “You want me naked?”
Always. Like she has to ask? I’d keep her locked up and naked in this hotel room for days if she’d let me. “Definitely.”
Standing, she tugs her shirt off, then undoes the clasp on her bra before she whips that off too. One shove and her jeans and panties are sliding down her legs, until finally she’s standing before me with that perfect little body, completely bare.
“Your turn,” she says, her voice raspy as she carefully settles back onto her knees, resuming the position like a good little girl. Her eyes are trained on me as I pull off my shirt, then shove my underwear and jeans down my legs until I’m kicking them off along with my shoes. Until I’m just as naked as she is, on display and … feeling oddly vulnerable.
She stares at my cock, her eyes wide, her lips parted. Reaching out, she draws her index finger down the length, along my balls, making me shiver. I’m hard as a rock, my cock arcing toward my stomach and already leaking pre-come. I’m dying to feel her mouth on me, her hands …
And then she’s there, her mouth on my skin. Soft and warm and damp, her lips blazing a trail from my hip to my stomach, her fingers going around the base of my erection, gripping me firmly. My breath stalls in my throat as I watch her, her long hair falling around her face, tickling my cock, hiding all the good action from view.
Since I’m only a man, I reach out and brush her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear so I can watch. Rose sends me a knowing smile before she darts out her tongue and traces just the head of my cock, circling it, flicking at the flared ridge.
Driving me out of my fucking mind.
She’s putting on a show just for me and I’m her captive audience. I can’t tear my gaze away as she strokes and licks, alternating between the two, teasing me with those glossy pink lips and that talented long tongue. Until finally, finally she purses her perfect lips at the tip, drawing my cock into her mouth deep. Deeper. She closes her eyes and relaxes her throat, taking me just about as far as I can get, and the guttural groan that rips from inside me expresses my pleasure at what she’s doing more than anything else I could say or do.
Holy hell, her mouth is like magic. I brace myself, tensing my muscles so I don’t collapse as I slowly start to move my hips, adjusting my grip on her hair so I’m holding it like a ponytail away from her face. She bobs on my cock, up and down, in and out of the warm cavern of her mouth, and when she lifts her honeyed gaze to mine, I’m fucking lost.
The orgasm barrels down upon me like a damn freight train. Like every cliché you’ve ever heard describing an orgasm, that’s what I’m feeling. The wave. The warmth, the tingling at my spine, the heat in my balls, the tightening of my sac. I’ve got it all going on and then some and I fuck her mouth, thrusting hard and deep, the vibrations of her moan making my entire body shiver and shake.
“I’m gonna come,” I tell her through gritted teeth, wanting to give her the warning in plenty of time, in case she wants to pull away. Girls don’t usually want to swallow. I get it. I’ve never particularly gotten off on it, either. I’m more of a visual type, so I prefer …
I tear my cock out of her mouth, a reluctant gesture that has her pouting at me. “I wanted to swallow,” she says, and a fresh wave of arousal takes over me at her words.
This girl is a constant surprise. She goes against every stereotype I’ve projected upon her and I love it.
“I want to see it,” I tell her as I wrap my fingers around my cock and start to stroke. She watches in fascination as I increase my pace, my blood rushing, my ears roaring. “Part your lips, baby.”
She does as I say and I lean toward her, my cock practically touching her mouth. That’s all it takes. With an agonized groan I’m coming, spurting semen onto her lips, little drops of white even hitting her tongue.
It’s the hottest thing I think I’ve ever witnessed.
Rose remains in place until the very last drop is squeezed out of my dick and I slump against the wall, panting for breath like I’ve run fifty miles, my skin covered in sweat, my eyes closing for only a brief moment because I don’t want to miss a thing. Even after that major orgasm, my cock is still semi-hard and I know it won’t be a problem getting it up so I can actually fuck her.
And I definitely plan on fucking her.
Opening my eyes, I watch in disbelief as Rose licks and then smacks her lips together, like she just indulged in the tastiest treat ever. She glances down, sees the splatter of come on her tits, and wipes it away with her fingertips just before she sinks them into her mouth.
“Jesus,” I mutter, making her laugh.
“Are we even, then?” she asks huskily after she removes her fingers from her swollen mouth.
“I didn’t realize this was a contest.” I watch as she gets to her feet and walks away, heading toward the bathroom. The sway of her hips, that beautiful ass—I can’t stop staring. She doesn’t shut the bathroom door, just yanks a tissue out of the box near the sink and dabs at her chest, cleaning up the mess I made.
The possessive surge that moves through me is foreign. I don’t think of women as mine. I definitely don’t take pride in marking them with my come like some sort of rutting animal. So what the hell?
“It isn’t a contest.” She exits the bathroom, coming to stand before me, gorgeous in her nude state. Her breasts sway when she walks, the nipples hard and this delicious rosy pink that makes my mouth water. She’s not shy, not hiding or worried about imperfections or weight or whatever else women tend to freak out over. Her confidence is sexy.
“Then why did you ask if we’re even?”
“Because I never want to owe you a thing, Caden.” She brings herself closer to me, my erect cock rising between us as she rests her hands on my shoulders. “We need to be equals in this … whatever it is we’re doing.” She runs her hands down my chest, her gentle touch sending a wave of gooseflesh over my skin, and the shudder that escapes me can’t be contained.
I couldn’t agree more with what she says. Reaching out, I thread my fingers in her hair, give it a tug, and pull her in. “You need a definition?” It’s best we don’t. I’ve never defined any of my so-called relationships. It’s easier that way.
Easier for me to walk away. And I’m going to walk away from Rose. I have to.
She slowly shakes her head, my grip on her hair not lessening, the intensity of her stare not lessening, either. Our breaths are rapid; my heart beats wildly and I’m guessing hers does too. “I don’t like you,” she murmurs. “You drive me crazy.”
The chuckle that escapes can’t be helped. I’ve never been told by a woman that she doesn’t like me while we’re standing together naked, so this is a first. “You drive me crazy, too,” I answer, not bothering to confirm whether I like her or not.
Does that really matter? We’re naked together. She just sucked my dick into her mouth and made me come. I’m about to fuck her until she comes her brains out. Do I really care if she likes me? Or if I like her?
Heartless motherfucker, yes, you do actually like her. And you want her to like you, too.
I also want her. I’m drawn to her despite myself. Falling for a woman like Rose would be a huge mistake. I could put everything at risk.
Everything.
She’s the type of woman who would want to know my secrets and will dig and dig until I finally give.
And I’m not about to give. Some things are better left undiscovered. The wall I’ve erected around myself can’t be torn down. The thing with a secret is that it becomes a secret no longer when someone else knows. There are very few people who know what I do—and most of them are participating in illegal activity too, so I don’t worry about any of them ratting me out.
“Then why are we doing this?” She sounds genuinely perplexed. Confused.
She sounds exactly how I feel.
“Maybe because we can’t resist each other?” I kiss her, my lips whisper-soft, pleased at the little sigh that escapes her. She likes a gentle touch. I could be down with that. The mere idea of spreading her out on that big bed in the middle of this hotel room and touching Rose for hours tempts me beyond anything else.
Well, once I finally get inside that tight little body. After that, I’ll be game for anything.
Everything.