Chapter Twenty-One
I arrive at my destination at approximately half past ten, and I am at the double doors pulling my phone from my handbag to pull up the security app when I hear a car door slam at the curb behind me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Collin bounding up the sidewalk toward me. He looks like the ultimate ladies’ man. Acid-washed denim, white sneakers, a white T-shirt that reads Gotta Like Rough Play to Be My Bae, a messenger bag slung across his torso, platinum-blond hair, and an ensnaring grin to match.
“I got it, Nerd Girl,” he tells me as he takes out his phone and grants us access. “Where you been?”
“Same place you’ve been. Out breaking hearts.”
He chuckles and playfully tugs a lock of my hair as we walk in. “Would you do mine? It would be an honor to get my heart broken by you.”
I flutter my eyelashes. “Oh, Col. You make me swoon.”
We weave around the automobiles in the giant garage and make for the stairs. “No, really, where’ve you been? Got home today and found Jaxon uncharacteristically upset by your absence. Not much gets to him.” He mimicked, “For every problem there’s a solution. You just need to stop wasting time and find the damn solution.” Collin made a face. “He’s always saying that. So, unless he’s in con mode, he never shows any real emotion. But today, when no one could tell him where you were— Man, he was all there.”
Interesting.
We trek up the winding stairs together, and Collin adds, “Now, if we put today’s uncharacteristic behavior together with last night’s uncharacteristic behavior, I’d have to say you’re getting under his skin. Way to go, Nerd Girl.”
“I don’t care,” I say evenly. “I don’t fancy him anymore. He’s a goddamn wanker.”
“Ouch,” Collin says through a chuckle. He slings an arm around my shoulders as we got to the door. “Does that mean you’re back in my bed tonight? You can talk dirty British to me all night, baby. I’ll even go for your Pig Latin gibberish.”
I don’t respond, too focused on the vociferations coming from the other side of the door.
“…don’t know why you don’t just tell him! I know you know where she is.” It’s Jo’s voice.
“How many times do I have to tell you, you daft cow, I don’t know where she bloody is.” Melanie’s voice shot back.
“What’re you two hiding?” Jo demands. “God. I was so freaking stupid to trust you.”
Collin’s chuckle trickles through the clashing words. “Left these two arguing, and they’re still going at it. You better get in there before they kill each other, Tim-Tim.”
I scrunch up my face at him. “Tim-Tim? Really?”
He grins down at me. “Yeah. Tim’s already taken.”
On the tail of an eye roll, I open the door.
Melanie and Jo are facing off in the middle of the living room, and Eduardo’s stretched out on the couch looking aroused by the catfight. Jaxon is leaning on one of the far columns, his phone in hand. He’s just staring at the screen with expectation, as if hoping it will transform into an alien ship or something.
As the entry door closes behind us with a beep, all three heads swivel in our direction. Collin’s arm is still draped around me.
Jo’s mouth falls open as she takes us in. She scowls and glares at Collin. “You’re a sneaky little turd, you know that, Col? You knew where she was all this time?”
Collin shrugs, the movement jerking me with him.
“And I didn’t,” Melanie loudly proclaims, her arms stretched wide. “Right, Tim?”
“Right,” I mumble absentmindedly as I eye Jaxon from my peripheral vision.
He straightens away from the column and pockets his phone, his attention on me. Or rather, on Collin’s arm around me.
“Oh, save it,” Jo snaps at Melanie, giving her the middle finger. “Find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”
Jaxon moves, lithe and soundless. He’s in the same clothes as earlier, except his shirt is now crumpled and out of his trousers, the cuffs flapping open at his wrists. His hair’s a sexy, sexy mess, as though he’s run his hand through it a dozen times.
Eduardo sits up, watching Jaxon’s approach with riveting interest, and Jo folds her arms across her flat chest, a smirk on her face, waiting for their boss to blast me. Or Collin…
Jaxon stops in front of us.
I brace myself.
Collin must feel it, because he protectively pulls me closer into his side.
Jaxon scans me head to toe. “Have you eaten?”
“I—”
Wait, what?
My heart pauses in shock. I was not prepared for this. After all that stalking business, this is what he asks me? What kind of game is playing?
“Not since lunch,” I say pointedly.
“Kav cooked.” Jaxon’s face is a blank sheet. There’s nothing there to read, and I want to scream in frustration. Or draw a heart there with a bright red marker. “But I ordered veggie pizza earlier. I left some for you. If you prefer that, I can go heat it up.”
I blink far too many times in one second. “I— Uh, okay.”
He nods, then looks to Collin. Almost undetectably, his brow lifts in warning.
Collin does not remove his arm. “Hey, Tim-Tim, before you go off to eat disgusting vegan pizza, you mind coming up to my room for a second? Got something I want to give you.” He says the latter with a suggestive drawl that’s filled with silent promises of pleasure.
I see the tic in Jaxon’s jaw. He tries to control it, but I see it.
Before I can respond, Collin is dragging me up the stairs. I glance over my shoulder and catch Jaxon shoving his hand through his hair, his gaze following me up the stairs.
Another thing I see is Jo mouthing to Eduardo, “What the hell just happened?”
Collin tugs me into his room and locks the door. “The hell did you do to him, Tim-Tim? You got some kind of British mojo or something?”
“It’s not real,” I say with an exhale. “He’s just a damn good actor.”
“Huh.” Collin takes off his messenger bag and throws it on the bed. “I’ve seen that guy in pretend mode on some of our most crucial cons, and yeah, he’s good as gold. But that down there, that’s no acting.”
Possibly. But I doubt Jaxon ever shows them—or anyone—all his faces. I refuse to be convinced that Jaxon’s current string of “uncharacteristic” behaviors is real.
Nothing is real with him. Sure, snippets of jealously do slip through the cracks sometimes, but even those could be an act to get me to think he cares about whatever the hell I do with myself. After all, his behavior needs to be convincing, does it not?
I fold my arms protectively around myself. “What did you want to give me?” Who says Collin’s any better than Jaxon, anyway? Aren’t they all the same? He could be conning me, too, for all I know. “Or is dragging me up here just your way of sticking it to Jaxon?”
Collin laughs and crosses the room to his nightstand. “True, that’s part of it. But I really do have something to give you.”
He opens the nightstand drawer, takes something out, and throws it across the room at me.
I can’t get my hands up in time to catch it, so it bounces off my forearm and falls to the floor. I look down. It’s my purse from Paris. A durable brown leather piece I purchased in an antique shop in Europe.
I bend to pick it up. Flicking the brass latch open, I peer inside. My old cell, my credit cards, ID card, an Estée Lauder cologne sample, a cherry ChapStick, and a stack of crisp, fresh-from-the-bank-smelling cash. Everything except the stack of bills was there when my purse was confiscated.
“Ten Gs,” he informs me at my puzzled look. “Gave your girl a cut, too. That job you did today was mine. Jaxon and I have been working on it for weeks. I was surprised when he pulled me out and threw your girl in with no prep. That’s some insane shit. We weren’t even supposed to hit it until next week. We obtained a blueprint of the vault door and were just waiting on a device to bypass the PIN request. It was supposed to be a safe, undetectable gig. Legit. No trace.”
I knew it! Jaxon had known about that vault door. What the bloody hell?
“Did he tell you how we got in?” I ask.
Collin shifts on his feet, his head cocked. “Does he know how you got in?”
“Mel told him, yeah.”
Collin rubs his jaw. “Be careful with him, Tim-Tim. What he did today was crazy risky. He likes you, it’s obvious. But I’ve seen him hurt people he likes. Have your fun, but keep your guard up. Don’t get blinded.”
All Collin’s concerns are good ones, but I need some solid information. Taking the stack of bills from my purse, I wave it at him, and say, “He paid you for the job, yeah?”
Collin’s chin jerks in the affirmative.
“So, when you steal things, you guys don’t fence them and split the cash amongst yourselves?”
With that question, Collin catches on to what I’m doing. He narrows his eyes, and his mouth opens, probably to tell me this area is off-limits. But he just bites his lip and studies me. I can see the wheels churning.
Yep. I’m good at this.
Collin is convinced that Jaxon is up to something. Being a part of the team but not knowing what that something is naturally makes him suspicious.
But he also has a soft spot for me, and he’s concerned about my welfare. Therefore, he’s going to give me whatever information he thinks might help me keep my guard up.
He sits on the edge of his bed, dips his chin, and looks straight at me. “I didn’t tell you this, all right?”
“Got it.”
“We’re not independent. We work on contracts. We don’t just get up one morning and decide we’re going to steal something. The Unseen don’t steal things just to have them. We get contracts, we get the job done, and we get paid. Some jobs are big, some are small. For some, Jaxon contracts only one of us, according to the nature of the job. You’ll notice the others kiss his ass a lot so that when two-man contracts are available, he will choose them. But I don’t do that. I piss him off more than I kiss his ass.”
“Yet, more often than not,” I say, “he contracts you, not them.”
Collin nods. “Kav is the muscle, he usually drives the getaway car. Jo’s computers and codes, cracks and hacks. Ed’s the engineer, the hands-on man, the one to smoothly break us in and give us safe passage. But Jaxon and I are the ones who actually go in…and risk getting caught. We deal with people face to face—we lie, charm, and convince.”
I process this information with a frown. “So, where do—”
“The contracts come from?” he finishes. “We don’t know.” He lifts a shoulder. “That’s why Jaxon’s the head. All the contracts come through him. All the exchanges are made through him.” Collin purses his lips. “There’s a woman, though. I’ve never met her. I think she’s his boss or something. Maybe? Because Jaxon has a ton of high-placed friends. He doesn’t talk. So I wouldn’t know. And frankly, the less I know, the better.”
“Right,” I agree and decide to change the subject. Because I now realize he’s useless in terms of uncovering anything useful about Jaxon. Mel and I seem to know far more than his own team members do. “Are you staying in for the rest of the night or sleeping out?” I ask Collin.
He lies back on the bed and stretches his arms over his head. His T-shirt rides up, exposing those yummy, defined lower abs. “Too tired. Nothing or no one can make me leave this bed right now. Hey.” He braces up on his elbows and jerks his chin toward the telly. “You got any idea what happened to my TV?”
Oh. Right. That.
Moving quickly toward the door, I answer apologetically, “Jaxon happened to it.”
“Wait. Huh?”
But I’m out of the room and skipping down the stairs before he can demand an explanation.
I walk into the kitchen and find Jaxon removing a plate with two slices of presumably vegan pizza from the microwave.
He turns with the plate and sees me standing in the archway. He scans me, searching. For what? A sexual flush? Evidence I was getting it on with Collin?
Jaxon places the plate next to an already poured glass of OJ sitting on the table and pulls out a chair. A silent order to come over and sit down.
I go. I sit. I set my purses aside.
The pizza looks delicious, with toppings of avocado, eggplant, tomato, corn, onion, sweet peppers, and spinach. Anything with avocado is guaranteed deliciousness. Even if it is vegan.
I pick up a slice.
Jaxon’s irritated voice comes at me from behind. “Collin had your purse all this time?”
Just as I thought. Jaxon didn’t confiscate my purse. Collin scooped it up and kept it to himself. Will he be in trouble?
I bite into the pizza. Yep, delicious. “No,” I lie. “I forgot it in his room last night when I was relocating to yours.”
The quietude that follows lasts for as long as it takes me to finish my first slice of pizza. Unnerved by the weight of his silence and the heat of his presence behind me, I tip my head backward so I can look up at him.
His arms are crossed, and he’s frowning. “You love him?”
A nervous laugh escapes me. “Am I a plonker? What on earth would make you think that?”
“You just lied for him.”
With a swallow, I turn so he isn’t upside down and look him straight in the eye. “I didn’t lie.”
That’s right, Melanie’s not the only one who can be undaunted. On a sexual, lustful level, I’m terrified of him. But otherwise, I can play, too.
His steady gaze bears down on me. He knows I’m lying, of course. But I don’t blink.
He breaks first, mumbling, “Enjoy the pizza,” and leaves the room.
Win win win! I can’t let him intimidate me all the time. I have to show him I’m not a weakling. He’s not the only one who gets to lie. And he can’t make me admit to a damned thing unless I want to.
Melanie strolls into the kitchen. “Were you really out with that slutty bloke?”
“His name is Collin.” I bite into my second slice of pizza.
Waving me off, she goes to the fridge and grabs two bottles of water. “So, you were with him, yeah?”
With one finger, I gesture around the room to remind her of the bugs and mouth, “Brooklyn.”
She nods in understanding and mouths back, “Monty?”
I give her a thumbs up.
“Well, anyway,” she says audibly, “Jo’s mad at me because of you. She thinks we’re plotting something.”
I snort. “Like what? Usurp their King Jaxon?” I say through a fake laugh. This I want him to hear.
“The only thing I want to do to their precious king is to bend him over and rip that thick stick out of his tight arse,” she mutters.
I’m cackling now. “It’s really far up there, isn’t it?”
“Well and good.” She starts out of the kitchen. “Anyway. I’m off to barge my way back into Jo’s good graces. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to sleep with you and Lord Jaxon or, God forbid, Mr. Sex Incarnate with the white hair.” She gives a delicate shudder and I grin.
Once I’m done with my meal, I dump the dishes in the sink and make off to Jaxon’s room.
The shower’s running. Black silk pajama pants are laid out on the bed.
After putting my purses away, I get out a silk nightgown with matching knickers and lay them on the bed. Next to the silk pajama pants.
The sight of my silks next to his makes me blush from head to toe. But a small part of me likes the boldness of it.
Why did I do it? What message am I sending?
Nervousness makes me snatch them back up…and put them back…and snatch them up again.
Gah! A part of me can’t help but wonder what will go through his mind when he sees the sweet nighttime scenario laid out so graphically.
Hearing the shower turn off, I quickly lay them down again and jump away before I can change my mind.
I’m knotting my hair on top of my head when he appears in the bathroom doorway, a towel wrapped low around his waist, his wet hair laid in limp curls.
My hands pause on top of my head as annoying tingles whizz through me. He’s so tall. So gorgeous. So glorious. And those bedroom eyes…
I can think of nothing else except what it would feel like to be pressed up against him, bare, skin to skin.
I drop my hands to my sides, causing the unfinished knot to tumble down my shoulders. I swallow.
His eyes on me, he takes a step to the side, letting me know the bathroom is all mine.
I don’t move. I’m afraid my knees will buckle if I try. I feel him, all over, and he’s not even touching me.
“Shower?” he prompts.
Yes. Right. Shower.
I take a test step. I don’t fall, so I figure it’s safe to move. Taking quicker steps past him into the bathroom, I close the door behind me. I feel like a coward to turn the lock, but I’m not brave enough to leave it open.
My shower is deliberately long. And hot. If I were as smart as I tell myself I am, I would’ve made this shower a cold one to chase off all the feels I’m harboring for the king of cons. Instead, I choose to keep these feels and unfamiliar sensations. And prolong them…
Under the hot shower, away from his soul-stripping stare, I’m allowed to open up and feel.
Imagine.
Fantasize.
Dream.
For the first time ever, I wish I had taken Melanie’s advice and gotten some experience, explored my sexuality.
“Do you really feel comfortable not knowing something, Tim?” she’d asked me again and again. “Come with me. Do it. Just to know what it’s like.”
Nothing about exploring my sexuality had interested me. I told her empirical knowledge on coitus is one thing I’m perfectly content with not knowing.
She, on the other hand, hooks up with anyone she develops a profound attraction toward. Both sexes. After much explorative research, she concluded she’s attracted to people in general, their minds and intelligence, regardless of gender. She doesn’t, however, encourage relationships of attachment, as there’s too much left in the world to be discovered.
Now, as my body aches for the liar on the other side of the door, I regret never going along with her on her explorative research expeditions.
Some of the effects are easy—the change in heartbeat, the tightening of my nipples, the aridity of my mouth, the throbbing between my thighs. Whenever these things happen, I know I’m aroused.
But, I wish I knew more. I wish I knew how to seduce the liar. I wish I knew how to seduce myself. I wish…
I wish I weren’t a virgin.
Because I’m now at a distinct sexual disadvantage, because he’s so advanced and experienced and jaded.
In all else, I can go toe to toe and match up to him. Outdo and outsmart him.
But not this.
Not. This.
Jaxon is sitting on the bed watching the telly, a small bowl with tangerine slices and grapes in one hand, when I finally come out of the bathroom.
He doesn’t look in my direction.
There’s nothing but a towel wrapped around me as I sidle up to the bed to fetch my nightgown and knickers. Somehow, they’re farther down on the bed, closer to the edge than where I left them. Also, he’s half sitting on the knickers.
I snatch up my nightgown and try to get the panties. Tug, tug.
He ignores me, his attention fixed on the telly as he pops a tangerine into his mouth.
Tug, tug.
He doesn’t budge. If I tug any harder, the material might rip.
“Jaxon.”
He hums, “Hmm?”
“Do you mind?” I tug again.
Leisurely, he turns his head to me, then glances down to where my hand is tugging. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t see that there.” He says this with so much conviction I could’ve easily believed it to be true, had I not known he’s such a manipulative liar.
When he shifts to one side, I grab them up and lock myself in the closet to get dressed. I hesitate before I put them on. Did he examine them closely? Sniff them? Rub them all over himself? Or did he just laugh at my pathetic attempt to be risqué?
Tonight’s nightgown is no more conservative than last night’s, but I’m hating it less because I actually want Jaxon to look at me this time. That he knows I’m wearing sexy lingerie gives me delicious tingles. His attention makes me feel beautiful.
When I emerge from the closet he’s no longer in the room.
I’m half disappointed, half relieved.
Grabbing the TV remote, I power down the volume and climb in bed. I’m more than a little wiped from today’s events, so it doesn’t take me long to drift off.
At some point during the night, I feel warmth—human-produced warmth. A solid, masculine body is pressed up against the back of me, chin on my shoulder, lips to my ear.
It feels good.
Damn, but it feels good.
Still, I wasn’t kidding before when I said I do not like my sleep to be messed with. If I’m asleep, leave me be, or I can turn into a growling female dog in 2.5 seconds.
I give an exasperated rumble and snap open my eyes.
But before I can get a curse out, he whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my spine, “I’m stealing you from him.”
I swallow the curse, relaxing in his hold. I feel like the Hope Diamond. So valuable and precious, that he wants…needs…has to steal me.
My crush is a thief. And in this moment, I could not be more content with his occupation.