Touched by a Thief(5)

By: Jana Mercy


“Butch, maybe we should curtail that calorie splurge until I’ve had a chance to collect my things. I’m short on cash at the moment.”

“It’s several hours to Mr. Kincaid’s penthouse. Mr. Kincaid said to get you anything you want, anything at all. I’ll go through a drive-thru. Let me know if there’s anything else you require.”

Fast food in a limo? She smiled and leaned back against the seat. Her freedom in exchange for stealing a diamond. The government wanting her to steal.

If only it wasn’t from Gerard.

He wouldn’t be so forgiving a second time.

Hell, he hadn’t forgiven her the first time until their fighting turned into passion and they’d ended up tangled in the sheets and with each other.

She closed her eyes and remembered the blade she’d held at his throat, the cold metal barrel he’d pressed against her chest while waiting for her to slit him open. She hadn’t. Instead she’d kissed him until he’d lowered the 9 mm, kissed him until he’d taken the knife from her and plunged the blade into his headboard. Then they’d plunged into each other.

Sex with Gerard had been hot, wild, adventurous.

But it hadn’t compared to what Ian did to her body, to her heart. She’d loved Ian. Damn it!

Monty blinked. They’d pulled into a drive-through, Butch had paid, she now sat at the window awaiting her food, and the curious-at-whom-was-inside-the-limo lady asked if she wanted ketchup with her order.

Seconds later she slurped her milkshake, sank her teeth into the burger, and stuck a hot fry into her mouth. Sweet Jesus, but this was good.

She sighed her appreciation.

Freedom never tasted so good as it did at that moment.

Monty had been wrong. Freedom tasted even better in the form of the strawberries, chocolate sauce, and champagne Gerard had delivered to her bath later that evening.

Plopping her head against the Jacuzzi cushion, she savored another succulent berry while soaking her body in the hot, bubbly water. The bath smelled of roses, and she imagined she would too once out of the tub. If she ever got out. Which was questionable at the moment.

She didn’t care what she smelled like just so long as all the prison grime washed away.

Privacy. For the first time in weeks, she was alone. Her body hummed with the knowledge and she ached to run her fingers over her breasts, down her belly, between her thighs. It had been so long since she’d had any type of sexual release and she throbbed with need.

But not yet. Her deprived state would fuel the chemistry between she and Gerard.

Eyes closed, she reached for another berry. Mmmm.

The tiny hairs on the back of her neck warned someone entered the room. Gerard.

Keeping her eyes closed, she retrieved a berry, slowly dragged the plump fruit across her bottom lip before sinking her teeth in. Juice squirted, and she licked at the corner of her mouth.

“You missed a spot,” his refined, slightly aristocratic accent informed.

Slowly, Monty opened her eyes and regarded the man who had rescued her from prison—not exactly in the way he thought he’d rescued her, but definitely her freedom was due him. For that alone she felt indebted to the sexy bastard. Feeling indebted wasn’t something she cherished, but thanks to her fuck up with Ian, she had no choice. She wouldn’t go back to jail. Not ever.

He moved closer, knelt next to the tub and darted his tongue over her lips, removing all traces of juice. He didn’t try to turn the caress into a kiss and neither did she, letting him set the pace of what happened between them, letting the heat inside her stoke higher and higher. Just the thought of feeling his hard shaft thrusting inside her had her pussy swelling, on the verge of spontaneously spasming.

“Thank you.”

A dark brow rose. “For?”

“Arranging my release. The limo. This.” She spread her arm, sending a spray of bubbles over the edge of the tub and onto the marble floor.

His blue eyes glittered. “You didn’t think I’d let you rot in jail, surely, my pet?”

She met his gaze and wondered what he’d say if she told him the truth?

“I didn’t know you knew where I was.”

He gave a scolding tsk. “You should have called.”