Chapter Seven

 

John sat out on Kat’s balcony in the afternoon sunshine with Carlos’s innocuous looking white, unopened envelope in his hand. Within its paper seal lay the name and probable location of tonight’s unsuspecting victim—someone who owned a very expensive car and deemed suitable for Kat to approach, seduce and steal from.

Kat hovered behind him since there was only one chair on the balcony, looking out at the city view. The morning sun had burnt off the grey haze that had rested like an oppressive blanket when they’d breakfasted together, and now, she took the time to let her eyes drift over the staggered roofs and jagged chimney pots down towards the muddy Thames glinting in the sunlight.

Lifting her hands to shield her eyes from the dazzling glare, she peered into the distance. She could just make out St Paul’s Cathedral seated majestically on the horizon. She loved looking at London from here. It made her feel like she’d made it after all of those years of poverty. All those years of being a no one.

Her mood was flitting about today. It had been a strange, new experience to share not just her body but her also emotions with another person so totally, and to actually fall asleep with someone had been another first. But waking up surrounded by John’s solid arms had felt good. Even better, in fact, when he’d gently made love to her all over again before she’d even opened her eyes to the day.

But now the contemplation of what they had lined up for that evening was making her nerves tense and jumpy. She knew John would try and take over the bit she was good at, and she couldn’t relax into the day the way she normally would. It was all so different from her normal existence. Different…but in a good way.

She was shaken from her thoughts by John huffing. “Did you get one like this for me?”

“Yes, only it wasn’t in the post. Carlos handed it to me the night before when I dropped off a set of Ferrari keys.”

“Have you still got it?” He turned to face her.

“No, I memorise the information then destroy the evidence.”

John said nothing, but his silence was as loud as words. For some reason, his mood was getting heavier by the minute. Kat wasn’t sure why. She couldn’t see what had changed between them since the letter had been delivered.

He tore open the envelope and shook the contents onto the table. The usual photo and small slip of paper covered in Carlos’s scrawling, childish handwriting fell out.

Kat leant across, picked up the paper and read aloud. “Nick Turnbull. The Bakers Arms, Amersham. Drop off point Lloyds Bank, Amersham High Street.” She turned to John, cocked her head and said lightly, “Apparently Nick has a nice new Mercedes Carlos wants to get his hands on.”

“Lucky Nick,” John grunted, studying the photo of the unsuspecting victim. It had been taken as he was mid-step, hand outstretched, walking into a bar, probably The Bakers Arms. Early forties, reasonably fit, he wore suit trousers and a loose white shirt. He had a pleasant enough face and short blond hair, or maybe it was grey, it was hard to tell from the photo Carlos had sent.

Kat set down the paper and snatched the photo from his hand. She studied the man closely, trying to commit his facial features and his general appearance to memory. When she’d finished, she raised her eyebrows and nodded.

“What the hell does that look mean?” John snapped.

“What does what look mean?” Kat was surprised at the sudden angry tone in his voice.

“Oh, come on, you know what I’m talking about. That little smile and nod. Are you looking forward to getting together with him or something?”

“Oh, don’t be so bloody ridiculous.” Now she understood the reason for the sullen mood, the reason he’d been spiralling downwards into a full-blown male sulk—he was jealous.

Jealous of Nick Turnbull.

She’d known from that day in the supermarket John had a green-eyed monster lurking. She’d thought she might use it to her advantage back then, but now, she couldn’t see how it would work. In fact, it could be a hindrance.

 

* * * *

 

John scraped the wooden chair on the balcony floor and stormed through the patio doors.

She hadn’t even bothered to deny it.

He walked straight to the drinks cabinet and reached for the whisky bottle even though he’d told himself he wouldn’t drink today. He needed to be on full alert tonight, no hazy glows. No gaps in his thought processes. His reactions need to be sharp and precise.

But right now, he needed a drink. Not for his knee, but because Kat was winding him up on purpose, getting under his skin for the sheer hell of it. Why she felt the need to do that he had no damn idea.

He’d taken his first sharp mouthful when her arms slide around his waist and her soft breasts press against his back. “Don’t be like this, John. You knew the score all week. It was even your idea.”

“Yeah, well, I feel different now that we…we…you know.” He paused and threw another mouthful of drink back. “I don’t want you jumping into bed with Nick-bloody-Turnbull tonight, not after you were in bed with me last night. It’s not right, and I won’t let you do it.”

“But it’s business. My business. The same as usual. No, make that a more lucrative business than usual.” John could have sworn she purred as she spoke onto his shoulder blades. “Sex means nothing to me when it’s with a hit, nothing at all. I completely switch off. I thought you understood that.” She went on, “But I probably won’t have to sleep with him anyway. I’ll just get him drunk and help myself to his keys. I’ve done that loads of times.”

Tightening her hold, she rubbed her hands from his abdominals up to his chest, gently reminding him of her touch as she whispered over his shoulder, “Don’t forget, when I get the keys to Nick’s car they’ll be our ticket to the diamonds, and for you, John, your ticket to paradise. The life you’re dreaming of, far, far away.”

He banged his drink on the cabinet, turned and scooped her into his arms. He looked deep into her eyes. “Without those diamonds, I’m screwed, Kat. Totally screwed. I need them so badly.”

He bent to kiss her.

 

* * * *

 

Kat melted. Forgetting everything else, she simply gave herself up to the soul-searching kiss. It felt so wonderful she could live in it. Strong, masculine and protective. She would get lost forever in this safe new world if she wasn’t careful.

When their kiss broke, he held her in silence, his chin resting on her crown and looking out at the balcony. Wrapped in his tight arms with her head on his chest, she found herself wondering how she’d feel tomorrow if all went as planned. When she had her cut of the diamonds, they’d go separate ways, and she’d be alone in her apartment.

That was the plan.
That was what she wanted.
But she’d got used to him hanging around the place, and the last twenty-four hours…

The last twenty-four hours had been sensational. She’d flown higher than she’d ever thought possible. She wasn’t looking forward to coming down. She was afraid she’d crash land.

 

* * * *

 

At five o’clock, Kat went into the bathroom and locked the door. John heard the shower running and paced the living room, resisting the urge to drink whisky. Lots of it. He strode onto the balcony, taking in lungfuls of not particularly fresh air. Battled to steady his mind and focus his energy on what was to come.

He looked at the people below, rushing about in the late spring sunshine, oblivious to the criminal underworld going on around them—even the most up-market, desirable parts of the city where not immune to the darker sides of the capital. If only they knew thieves lived amongst them.

When Kat eventually appeared from the bathroom, she was wrapped in a white, fluffy towel and moved quickly into her bedroom and shut the door.

John paced after her, but stilled at the doorway. He reached up and curled his fingertips over the frame, hung frozen, trying desperately to get a grip on his emotions.

It was driving him nuts her getting ready to be with another man. He hadn’t thought he was a jealous sort; he was pretty easy going about women. But then, having never been in a long-term relationship, he really had nothing to go on. No benchmark. So the assumption about him not being the jealous type actually had no grounding.

He made coffee and ate ten biscuits, pulled on his bike leathers and fiddled with his Swiss army knife before shoving it deep into his pocket. He counted and checked the wads of money he’d stashed in his wallet. It was all still there despite having spent the week with a light-fingered flat-mate. He was about to flip his wallet shut when he spotted the battered, fading photo of Cobra One. He pulled it out to examine his old mates.

Cobra One didn’t look like an elite fighting team. They looked like a group of six buddies having a laugh and enjoying summer sunshine. Each had a bottle of beer in his hand, and their suntanned faces wore wide, happy smiles. Without exception, they were dressed in desert camouflage combat trousers, and their arms were thrown casually over each other’s bare, bronzed shoulders.

The men could have been on any beach in the world, but the photo had been taken deep in the Afghan desert, not long after a risky night surveillance mission. Their manic, wide eyes told John they were still on a high from having survived the night. He wished the guys were with him now. A few mates, a gun and a fully functioning knee would be bloody useful. But he was a realist. He was on his own and would have to get on with it.

“Who’s that?”

John hadn’t heard Kat approach behind him. He was about to shoot some sarcastic remark but stopped himself. No point taking his self-pitying mood out on her.

“My unit,” he said, handing it over.

“Hey, that’s you.” she said, pointing. “You look nice when you smile. You should do it more often.”

“I haven’t had much to smile about lately, have I?” He took the photo out of her hand and placed it back in his wallet, his dark mood deepening.

Kat pouted, but then spotted another picture. “Who’s that?” she said, reaching across his arm.

What the heck?

John pulled out the photo of his dad.

Kat studied it even more intently than the picture of Cobra One. “You have his eyes.”

“You reckon?”

“Yep, and his mouth, definitely his mouth.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“He looks like a nice dad,” Kat said, handing the photo back.

“He was. The best.” John slipped it away and pushed his wallet into his pocket. He ran his gaze down her body. “Is that you ready?”

Kat wore her usual little black dress that fell just below the knee. Her hair, soft, shiny and so black it contained a hint of blue hung around her bare upper arms. She’d settled her small diamond necklace above her boosted cleavage to draw attention to the delicious curves disappearing into the material of her dress. Her makeup was flawless. Seductive eyes peered from her precise fringe, accentuated with a line of vibrant green shadow.

His mood suddenly swung to the opposite end of the spectrum. He reached for her hand and kissed the pale underside of her wrist. “You’re so damn gorgeous you’re making me insane,” he murmured, breathing in her sweet, powdery perfume. “Absolutely fucking insane!”

 

* * * *

 

Kat cocked her head and smiled at the spell she’d unwittingly cast. John knew so many of her secrets, her weaknesses and all about her failed childhood, yet still he looked at her with complete adoration. It made her want to be physically closer to him to celebrate the emotional connection they’d found. Revel in it whilst they still could. Soon, he would be gone. Soon, she would be alone.

“We’ve got an hour before we need to leave,” she heard herself saying.

A spark ignited to a flame in his eyes. “What are you suggesting, thief?”

“Thief.” She gave a tinkle of nervous laughter. “That’s funny.”

“It’s what you are,” he touched his nose with hers and curled a hand around her waist.

“It’s funny because I pinched something yesterday.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

“What, a pair of shoes?”

“No, something from that filthy shop you took me to.”

He tugged at his bottom lip. “Risky move. That fella wasn’t pleasant.”

Kat shrugged. “You want to see it?”

“Will it reveal a fantasy?”

“It might.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” He stepped back and spread out his palm for her to lead the way.

“Hang on,” she said. A tightening wedged itself like cramp in her thighs. What the hell had she just suggested? She didn’t even know herself. She’d planned on waiting until she was alone to watch that DVD. John would think she was hinting at something, and the truth was, she didn’t really know if she was or not.

She slipped into her bedroom and retrieved Anal Virgin Takes It All from her bedside cabinet and swallowed dryly as she examined the woman’s face again. She’d been permanently suspended in that second of dirty pleasure for all of time. Kat wondered if maybe just a few seconds would do her.

“Interesting title.” John’s voice came from directly behind her.

She spun with a gasp. She should be used to him sneaking up by now, but it still made her heart stutter.

“Yeah, I…”

“Let’s watch it.” He shrugged. “No harm in that is there?” He plucked it from her hand and headed back to the living room.

Kat trailed after him and waited as he fiddled around with the TV and the DVD player. She tinkered with her necklace and hovered behind the sofa as if it were some kind of barrier. John hit play and two stilted actors walked on screen accompanied by cheesy piano music. Their voices were low and muted, their expressions over exaggerated.

“She looks a bit like you,” John commented as the anal virgin requested a good seeing to. Her enormous black partner lubed up enthusiastically as she positioned herself on a fur rug in front of a roaring fire. “Same colour hair, same green eyes…” John moved to stand behind the sofa too. “Same great tits.”

Kat was going to glance at his face but didn’t. She was fascinated. She’d never watched a porn film before and couldn’t believe how little attention was put on the storyline.

John moved behind her and slid his hands around her waist. He pulled her back against his chest, and she was aware of his erection tucking into her lower back. “Why’d you choose this one?” he whispered by her ear.

“I don’t know?”

 “You’ve never done that, have you?”

“No.”

“Want to try it?”

She registered what he’d said but gave no response. She’d been captivated by her look- a-like's buttocks. They’d been spread apart by big black hands, and her lover’s flattened pink tongue was running over her glistening vulva. He moved up to the cleft of her cheeks and ringed the puckered skin of her tightest, darkest hole. Kat felt herself getting wet, and her heart rate increased. She put her hands over John’s and realised her palms were clammy.

John’s breath hitched by her ear, and his chin pressed into her temple. “Can I fuck you while we watch this?”

Kat reached for her dress hem and tugged it upwards. “Yes.”

On screen, a big black finger invaded that tense hole, pushing in to the first, second, third knuckle. The woman was moaning.

Kat shoved her knickers down to her knees, her pussy alive and demanding attention. Blood rushed to her sex, making it pulse with excitement. She heard John undo the zipper on his leathers.

“Bend over the sofa,” he said gruffly. “Keep watching the TV.”

Kat did as he’d asked.

John shoved the dress farther up her back and let his hand trail down her now trembling spine. His index finger drifted over her tailbone and down the smooth cleft of her butt crack to the rose bud of her anus. He applied a strong, steady pressure with the wide pad of his finger.

Kat arched, sucked in a breath and snapped away. She remembered the sharp sting of his entry there in the shower. She didn’t feel ready for it…not yet.

“Shh,” he soothed. His fingers moved farther down to her plumped lips, ripe with moisture and begging for stimulation. “Here first. I’ll take you here first.”

Kat nodded and pushed back, searching desperately for his thick, magical fingers.

He steadied her with a hand on her hip and rimmed her entrance, spread her own cream for lubrication then slithered two digits inside her heated wetness, bent them forward and rubbed her hot spot.

Kat groaned, dropped to her elbows on the back of the sofa and opened her legs wider for him. How was it he always found the devilish little spot so accurately? He added another finger as a reward for her moan of approval, filled her wider and longer and sent his thumb underneath to tease and fret her clit. She let out a long, low moan and sank onto him. She knew he would take her to heaven and back.

“Wait here,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Kat whimpered at the loss of his fingers, but before the noise was out, he was back. The rustle of the paper bag sounded near her left ear.

At her vaginal entrance, she could feel the head of his dick, hot, smooth skin primed and waiting, a steel rod of pleasure.

“You ready for me?” His voice was like torn, razored silk.

“Yes, yes, just do it,” she begged when he didn’t move. A tight, hard knot grew at the base of her stomach, spreading down her legs and over her buttocks. She needed him inside her like she needed to breathe.

On screen, the woman was just about to take the big, black cock up her arse. She was shouting, “Now, butt fuck me now.” The man had his teeth gritted, he didn’t seem to blink. Kat stared, equally wide-eyed, as the woman’s taut hole was invaded and opened. It twitched and spasmed, clenched and unclenched. The woman tried to push away, but could go nowhere. Strong hands held her firmly as she was forced into with an unimaginably large penis. She let out an ear-splitting scream before whimpering, dropping her head and writhing backwards for further impalement.

Suddenly, John surged into her pussy, filling her to capacity on the first, fast thrust. They groaned in sync, and his forearm looped around her waist to hold her still. He pulled back and shoved in again. She wondered if her expression was like the anal virgin’s. Did she have that appearance of pain-pleasure? That look of a wild, feral animal sating a base need?

She didn’t think so.

Not yet.

John set up a steady rhythm, in and out, in and out, massaging her G-spot, playing with the ribbed muscles of her vaginal walls with the slit of his prick. “I love your arse,” he grunted as he stroked down her back again and over the softness of her cheeks. Massaging and kneading, he nipped hard then let the flesh melt between his fingers.

“Mmm,” Kat managed, her knees weak. An orgasm built, a delicious, deep one generating from her G-spot.

 “It’s calling out for me,” he murmured. “Your arse, it wants me.”

Kat pushed back harder onto his cock. Felt it stab at her internal organs and plug her with such a chock-full sensation it liquefied her insides, and she wondered if she’d be able to walk later. “Oh God, yes,” she said, vaguely aware of the paper bag crunching by her ear.

The woman was rocking backwards on the black cock, her lover’s hands twisting around her hips and jamming her harder onto him with each thrust. She screamed out a name, a demand of don’t stop, she was going to come.

Excitement crackled in Kat as she felt John’s attention return to the tight ring of muscles at her back hole. She felt ready to try it now. Her endorphins were running high. She could handle sensual pain whilst she was this close to orgasm.

His finger was cold now, iced with lube. He spread it all around the clenched wrinkles of skin. She bit her lip. She wanted to do this, wanted to look like the woman on the TV. Abandoned, wild, fulfilled.

On a long, slow forward thrust of his cock, John pressed his finger harder against her private hole. It sank inwards, the whole length of it, deep and long. It was fire-hot, a lit candle. “Ah, you’re so fucking tight,” he growled. “You’ll squeeze my cock till it bursts.” He pulled his finger out, dipped it back into the lube and pushed in again, gaining even further entry this time.

Kat forced herself to relax. She didn’t want to fight the intrusion. This was what she needed. He wriggled around inside her, worked the area, and she felt the burn retreat as the chilled lube spread. She pushed back against him, urging him on—urging him to do what they both wanted to do. A second finger joined the first, and she blew the air slowly from her lungs, kept concentrating on the cock working in and out of her pussy, building up that explosion of pleasure.

He twisted his fingers, scissoring, and widening her. She squirmed at the new torturing flames, and her hips jutted away in reflex, almost making his cock slip out of her.

“No,” he murmured. “Stay with it.” His other hand squeezed around her abdomen, keeping her just where he wanted her as he fucked her with his dick and his hand.

Her heart was pounding, stealing her breaths as she opened around the width of his fingers. “John, I don’t…”

“You started this, Pussy Cat,”

 “I know. I just…” She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. The feeling was wicked, carnal. A third finger joined the party. She fisted the cushion on the sofa and groaned in time with the DVD woman. The fierce prick of pain was so on the edge of her pleasure it was like they were twins. She should say no, she should stop this, but she couldn’t, she was desperate for it.

“You’re nearly ready,” he said. “Take it easy, baby.” He pulled his cock out of her pussy, and he cradled its length between her butt cheeks. His fingers finished their assault and withdrew with a soft pop. She heard the squelch of more lube and found herself mewing for his attention. She wanted filling; she needed him back there. Her climax was hovering, waiting to be taken.

He pushed her hips forward, and his dick slid down her butt crack to her once again tightly puckered hole.

She throbbed with terror and excitement.

With one of his hands resting on her shoulder, his other stayed locked around her waist. “Relax,” he said, though his own voice sounded far from relaxed. “Try not to scream too loud.”

The head of his cock pressed at the elastic band of her anus. Plump, hard and so, so wide. Her senses reeled. What they were about to do was something she’d never before considered, but the last few days, it had wandered in and out of her mind like a party guest demanding attention.

“Take a deep breath,” John said.

Kat did as he asked, and as she filled her lungs, her hole loosened for the briefest of moments. He took full advantage and pushed forward an inch, rasping over nerve endings she didn’t even know she possessed. Her head shot up, and her back arched to breaking point. The feeling was a sudden, blinding, furious whack of arousal. She opened her mouth to howl but no sound came out.

“Blow that breath out for me, baby.” His hand left her shoulder to massage her tailbone in small, steady circles.

She blew out and felt sweat bead on her brow and between her cleavage.

He eased forward another inch. So bulky, so rigid, such barely harnessed power in her most delicate, private part. “More,” she heard herself say as white hot electricity whipped at her newly found desires. “More, God, please, more…” She resisted the urge to scream like a banshee woman having the time of her life.

He took hold of her hips and, in time with the guy on the TV, pushed in steadily, stretching and widening until he’d eased to the hilt and his balls rested on her pussy lips. “Oh, yes, that’s so fucking deep, so fucking silky, and your arsehole is squeezing me so tight you’ll snap my dick off, Pussy Cat.”

Kat’s legs buckled, and she dropped towards the ground. She felt filled farther than she would ever have imagined possible. His arm tightened around her stomach and held her at a ninety-degree angle against his impaling cock and his hard thighs.

She wanted to crawl away and get used to the overwhelming heavy sensation of being so intimately invaded, work through her pleasure-pain barriers alone, in private. Figure out what all previous pleasure concepts had meant to her up until that moment. But she couldn’t. He was fucking her arse now. Moving slowly in and slowly out. Not all the way out, just enough to get a burning friction going. A black, velvet hunger grew in her back passage. Heated and needy, it demanded more, and she found her hips jerking to meet his gentle thrust, encouraging him into a more meaty rhythm.

“You’re so damn good,” he ground out and began to finger her clit. “So good, sweet like honey, hot like chilli. Come for me, baby, ‘cause I can’t last long. It’s too fucking gorgeous in here.” He pumped hips. He pulled out and drove back in desperate groan. “Oh, shit, it’s here, too late…”

But Kat was there, too, matching his orgasm. She pushed harder towards his heated cock and sank onto his finger rubbing her clit with near violent energy. Brilliant bursts of light grew in her vision as her orgasm flew her to another level of existence. She exploded; she didn’t know if her heart could take it.

His fingers milked her clit with a ruthless squeezing and rubbing motion. It was a realm of ecstasy she could never have previously imagined. John’s cock spurting into her, filling her with his delicious salty seed as she marooned herself on his hand, every rectal muscle contracting in bunches of wild, hard spasms and grabbing hold of him tighter and tighter.

She wailed, flung open her eyes and saw her reflection in the now black screen of the television. In her face, she saw the same untamed, consumed expression of her look-alike. Sanity and order were a distant memory. Only deeply hidden places existed; only primitive instincts and forbidden fruits were allowed.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” John muttered and then said something in a language she didn’t recognise. He released her now fulfilled, throbbing clit but continued to pull her onto him by her hips. Harsh breaths flooded down onto her bare lower back. “You still with me, baby?” he panted.

Kat nodded and dropped her head onto her forearms, squeezing her eyes shut.

John stayed deeply embedded, twitching and pulsing out the final stage of his climax. “That was so fucking good I could do it all over again,” he said.