The Family Jewels (9 page)

At least, not for that reason, at any rate. There was no question the rest of the guys would be looking at her more than twice that night, and probably again later in their dreams. Especially if she wore anything even remotely as sexy as what she had on now.

"That kind of money would be a godsend for us," she murmured, staring down at the blueprints.

An icy ball formed in his stomach at her words.

“Us?” Did she have a child whose well-being she was risking with this lifestyle? He couldn’t be party to that. Or maybe “us” meant a husband…

Her gaze went shuttered and for a second, he was sure she was going to lie or stonewall him. But she surprised him by blowing out a long breath. "Me and my sister, Clarissa. She’s not well. From the time I can remember, we were taking her to the hospital or waiting for the ambulance to come. I was five when she was born. The day they brought her home, she wouldn't stop crying. I thought it was the worst sound I'd ever heard."

Her lips tipped into a little smile that was bittersweet and twisted him up in knots.

"I laid in bed and covered my head with a pillow, but that didn't work. So I made a little tent out of sheets in my closet and tried to sleep there, but that didn't work either. Finally, I got so mad, I climbed into her crib with her. Who knows what I was planning? Something horrible, probably, because I was a rotten kid.” She let out a hollow little laugh. “But then I looked at her face and she looked at me and something broke open inside of me. So I curled up next to her and patted her round little belly for a while, and eventually, she stopped."

Her eyes took on a faraway look and she paused for a long moment before she continued. "So strange, that cry. It was so strong, it seemed like she could bring the walls down if she wanted to. As summer turned to fall and fall to winter, that cry got weaker and weaker, and the fevers started. When she was two we got the definitive diagnosis. Leukemia. I lay awake at night for months, praying that I'd hear that cry again. Clarissa, wailing her heart out."

Her despair was so absolute, he wished like hell he knew what to say, what to do to ease her pain. Up until now, he’d known there was a chance, despite her tell, that every word Sadie had spoken had been a lie. But this? This, he had no doubt was the God’s honest truth and it made his stomach churn to witness her pain. She was so cautious, so necessarily secretive all the time, he was moved that she had chosen to share this with him.

"Sadie, I'm so sorry to hear of her suffering. It’s a terrible disease."

"It is. But she’s getting better. And we had some good years mixed in with the bad.” She swiped a hand over her eyes and sucked in a breath. “Then, after a bone marrow surgery and this last round of treatments, we saw some amazing results. She’s now cancer free and in recovery. But all that cost money we didn’t have, so…" She shrugged and pursed her lips.

So she stole things from bad people. He got that. Hell, if he’d been in her shoes, he’d have done it a thousand times over if he had to.

"What about medical insurance? Can they turn her away if-"

"My father never even graduated high school and my mother waited tables my whole life until she died. They made ends meet, but he was a handyman and when money was tight, he picked the least expensive plan. Her diagnosis came during one of those times. You can imagine how hard it would be to get a better insurance company to take a person on with a pre-existing condition that cost in the neighborhood of a hundred thousand dollars a year to manage. So my dad started picking up…night work.”

He could imagine exactly how that had gone. The idea of leaving a child to the mercy of an illness like that over money sickened him.

"It was enough to get by for a few years, until my mother was coming home one night after working a double shift at the restaurant. A drunk driver hit her head on and she was killed instantly. We did get some insurance money from the driver's policy, but Clarissa's health declined after my mother's death. The money was gone within a year. We were left with a choice. Work hard at school and hope Clarissa managed to hang on until I graduated and found that great paying job to support her, or I start working with my dad to pick up the slack."

"For a while, it was a straight up hustle. We ran the local poker circuit. Then we moved to pool, hustling all over the city, and we racked up quite a bit of dough. Eventually, though, people catch on. You start to get noticed, and the jig is up. We had to make the leap from hustling to out and out stealing. It was a tough transition. My father's family was broke, but they always worked their asses off. The thought of taking money from someone who had worked that hard didn't sit right. We picked pockets for a while, but eventually, moved up to the longer game cons. Still, the guilt ate him up inside. He died of a heart attack when I was nineteen, and I decided to do things differently. To vet the marks first to make sure they were worthy of stealing from.”

"Like a female Robin Hood."

"No,” she shook her head and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “don't romanticize it to make me feel better. It wasn't like Robin Hood at all. I stole from the rich, all right. And then I kept the money."

He wanted to argue. To remind her of why she did it, and tell her that she’d done the right thing, but he knew it was pointless. Unless she believed it herself, his words wouldn’t help.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re a good sister,” he said softly. “Family is everything.”

Apparently, it was the right thing to say because she smiled at him, her eyes filled with quiet gratitude. “Thanks. She’s the best. And I agree, family is everything.”

They stood there in silence that felt entirely too intimate until he broke it.

“So, what do you say I make the call for some takeout and you can impress me with your card mechanic skills while we wait? Let me in on some trade secrets.”

She stepped away from the table and pinned him with a gaze that pierced right through him.

“We could do that.” Her elegant throat worked as she swallowed audibly. “Or we could do…something else instead.”

His muscles tensed, as much from her words as from that husky tone of her voice, and he took a step toward her, all of the reasons he shouldn’t fading away to background noise. “Just to be clear, are we talking about eggs again, Countess?”

Her slow smile sent his blood running hot as she met him halfway. “I think I am. If you’re interested, that is.”

Nothing had changed. Sleeping with her was still a terrible idea. He was right on the cusp of seeing all his goals realized. Now wasn’t the time to take his eye off the ball. Not to mention that she was a thief and a con artist, and for all he knew, he could’ve been her real mark all along.

But somehow, none of that mattered. When her still-haunted eyes locked with his, and they finally stood, toe to toe? He was lost.

“Are you sure, Sadie?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she whispered. “No strings, I know it’s just for tonight. I’m just sick of watching life pass me by. I want to dive in and feel for once.”

Her words echoed through him and he dipped his head to press his lips to her. She wasted no time in kissing him back, meeting his fervor with an insistence all her own. The kiss was deeper than he'd expected, and when her teeth closed over his bottom lip, he growled against her mouth.

He dropped his hands from where they’d found their way to her hips, and pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were hooded, and her breathing came in shallow, ragged drags.

There was no faking this. Sadie wanted him. And he'd be damned if he could muster the strength to turn her away again.

I
t went
from zero to sixty in five seconds flat. One moment, they were exchanging soft, sensual kisses, and the next? It was off the rails and that was exactly how she wanted it.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and plastered her body to his, loving the way his touch made her mind go blank and her body catch fire. There were no shitty apartments or eviction notices. No hospitals or prison fears.

There was just Jake, and right now, that was everything.

He crushed his lips against hers again, gripping her hips and giving back everything he got, tenfold. One hand trailed around to grab her ass, anchoring her to him, and she gasped. The thick bulge in his pants hit her right in the sweet spot, and sent a bolt of heat through her.

Jesus, he smelled good. Like Irish Spring and worn, expensive leather. Her head spun as his feet began to move, walking her backward toward the sofa until she bumped into something cold and hard on the back of her knees. The end table? She couldn't tell until their kiss deepened and she bumped into it again. There was a crash and the light danced around them until the room settled into semi-darkness. The lamp. They must have knocked it over, but neither of them even paused.

All she could think about was the way his fingers kneaded her breasts, tweaking her nipple through her shirt. Teasing her until she was ready to rip the damn fabric off herself. Why wouldn't he undress her already?

"Christ," she breathed, and finally did the thing herself, pushing his hand away momentarily so that she could yank her halter over her head.

He groaned his approval before diving back in. When his lips found hers again, his teeth closed over her bottom lip and she arched into him, hoping that he'd finish the job she’d begun for him. His fingers toyed with the front of her strapless bra, flicking against the clasp before skimming away to trace her nipples again until she moaned into his mouth.

"Why?" she pleaded. It was just the one word, but with the blood pounding in her ears, she was surprised she’d even managed that much. Besides, it seemed to have gotten the message across. He smiled against her mouth and then nipped her lip again before answering.

"Because you look hot when you’re mad," he said.

"I must be irresistible right now, then." She unhooked the bra herself and then tossed it to the side.

He cupped one breast in each hand, his gray eyes going almost black. "Jesus, you have no idea."

He bent low, his warm breath washing over her chest before he sucked one tight bud into his mouth, drawing on it gently. The ache between her thighs was building and if she didn't have him soon, she was sure she'd burst into a million pieces.

She pushed the end table aside with her calf and leaned her backside against the arm of the sofa.

No sooner had her ass connected with the leather, than he was gripping her hips and turning her around. He didn't bend her over. Instead, he fisted the back of her hair and pulled her close, placing one hand flat against the plane of her belly while his lips tickled her ear.

"I think about this every time I see you," he said. “Being inside you. Touching you like this.”

She’d already bared so much of herself to him that, for a moment, she wished for the wherewithal to come back with a witty response to dial back the intimacy, but she had nothing.

"Me too," she whispered. He laid her hair over her shoulder to trail sucking kisses over her nape and then she felt it. The movement behind her, followed by the oh-so welcomed sound of a zipper and the rustle of his jeans. The sound of tearing foil and harsh breathing as he sheathed himself. Her whole body went tense with anticipation. And then there he was, pressed against the seam of her skirt, hot and hard and ready.

She closed her eyes and squeezed her thighs together. God, if only he would just bend her over and end this teasing...

She should have known better.

Every move made her think the time had almost come. The drag of his hand along the outside of her thigh until he'd pushed her skirt up around her hips; the hooking of a finger around the crotch of her already-soaked panties, pulling them to the side to make room for him.

It was right there. The promise was made. All he had to do was plunge in deep and fill her up the way she needed him to so badly...

With one hand, he cupped her breast, circling her nipple with his thumb while he guided himself between her quaking thighs with the other.

One thrust and he'd be buried deep. Instead, he slid forward, pressing himself against her clit and teasing her legs open wider, sending her every nerve-ending screaming to life.

"I want you inside me.”

He responded by running the edge of his teeth over her nape before planting a gentle kiss there. She arched her back, tried to bend to entice him, but it was all too clear that he wasn't playing by her rules.

Just as desperation began to mingle with desire, he pulled back and slid deep, filling her. For a moment, her world tilted on its axis and her vision went dark while she stretched to accommodate him. God, it felt like he went on forever. She sucked in a breath and willed her muscles to relax. The shock at his size was wearing off in a hurry as fresh waves of desire pulsed through her.

“Okay?” he murmured, kneading her hip gently.

She nodded, flexing back against him and gasping at the resulting sensation. “Way better than okay.”
Pure magic.

He curled a hand around her torso and cupped her breast, drawing back before thrusting forward. She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to suppress a shiver.

“You feel so good. So tight,” he groaned, the bridled power of his controlled movements making her pulse race even faster.

Riding her slow and steady with long strokes. Yet another layer of torment. She wanted fast and gritty, in a headlong rush to the finish line.

But that wasn't Jake.

He worked her body like he was executing a long-awaited master plan. Every move played off of the next. He traced a finger down her spine in the softest of caresses, a study in contrasts as his hips drove her relentlessly toward a frenzy. When her walls quaked against him, he would push deep and hard inside her, once, twice, three times, and then slow to a gentle rock again. It was the most amazing torture she'd ever experienced, and with every thrust she was torn between wanting it to go on forever and wanting to put it to a permanent, screaming end.

Her fingernails dug into the leather so hard that she thought she might tear it open, but she couldn’t stop. The ache inside her built like flood waters, threatening to burst through and drag her under. She bit her lip to hold back a moan, but couldn't stop it.
So close.
She could see the point of no return…

And then the world burst into a thousand tiny pieces and shattered around her. The tingling spread from her toes to her fingertips to the top of her head. Her ears rang as his body stiffened and his cock pulsed inside her. She pushed back, anchoring her ass to his hips, driving him deeper, wanting him to fall with her.

“Jesus,” he groaned, his fingers closing over her hips in a punishing grip.

She cried out as his hips moved liked pistons, sending her body rocketing straight from one climax to the next. His cock twitched and jerked inside her as he came, her name a murmured chant on his lips.

When it was finally over, she sagged against the arm of the sofa, breathing deep as the world slowly began to right itself. He gently pulled away from her and she waited for the regret to come flooding in, but it never did. Instead, she had to quell the need to face him. To wrap her arms around his lean waist and press her face into the crook of his neck and breathe in that comforting scent that was all Jake.

And that? That was even scarier than prison.

When the panic came, it came like a double-decker bus barreling down a mountainside.

Run.

* * *

J
ake sucked in a breath
, and paused to trail the tips of his fingers over Sadie’s thigh. His brain was still buzzing like he had been to a party and had said yes to every drug offered. It was the effect she’d had on him from the start, only magnified thousand-fold.

He was still reeling by the time his heartbeat slowed to normal.

Apparently he wasn't the only one, because when he pulled away she shot a glance over her shoulder, her eyes as wide as a deer caught in a set of headlights.

“I-I need to use ladies’ room,” she stammered, covering her torso with one arm.

He stepped back and she took the opening, scooping up her top and taking off at a dead run from the room toward the hallway. He stared after her, thinking he should probably be offended, but he couldn't find it in him. What had just happened had taken them both by storm. Even now, his brain felt scrambled as he made his way to the master bathroom to wash up.

When he was done, he headed back to the living room, slowing as he passed the hallway bathroom. Sadie's low mutterings had a grin tugging at his lips.

He imagined her in the bathroom mirror giving herself a pep talk, or maybe cursing herself out for her rash decision. Either way, the next few minutes should prove to be very interesting.

Unless of course she wasn't talking to herself at all. What if she was making a call?

A call to a partner in crime, or to a boyfriend who was part of this whole grift?

His stomach went sour as he contemplated his next move.

He could confront her. Ask her straight up if she was playing him and hope his gut would tell him whether her answer was true or not.

Or he could wait it out. Tread lightly, and carefully, and see how it all unfolded.

Because you're not ready to let her go yet, are you champ?
A mocking voice in his head asked.

Was he proving to be a perfect mark? One who kept following the script, ignoring the warning signs because the trip all the way to hell was oh-so pleasurable?

Before he could answer that question, the door swung open and he stood face to face with a red-cheeked Sadie.

"Oh! Hey. Did you need to use the bathroom?" she asked, tucking a lock of chestnut hair behind one ear as she averted her gaze.

Her fingers were trembling and a rush of male satisfaction ran through him. Maybe her name was fake. Maybe her story about Alistair was even fake. But when she came apart beneath him a few minutes ago?

That had been real.

And, for now, that was enough for him. Until or unless he got proof that she was conning him, he was going to continue on with the plan.

He took a step closer and slipped one hand into her dark hair, tugging her head back gently until she had no choice but to look at him. He traced the line of her jaw and watched her eyes go dark with renewed desire.

"I just wanted to let you know…that was good, Sadie. So fucking good." He leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, reveling in the sharp intake of her breath as he nipped her bottom lip, hard. "But I do my best work in a bed, with more time, and less clothes. Stay," he murmured. "Stay tonight. Still no strings, I promise. Just me and you and a bottle of wine."

Emotion after emotion flitted across her expressive face so quickly, it was a marvel. Either she was the best actress since Meryl Streep and was able to school that face when she needed to, or she had overestimated her poker skills to the point that she might as well kiss that twenty-five grand goodbye.

He watched in wonder as the wheel of feelings spun from want, to wistfulness, to regret. When it finally landed on sheer panic and stayed there he knew her response long before she spoke.

"I can't. I have to...let my cat out," Sadie said, laying a hand on his chest and pressing him away to scoot past him. "She's a needy little creature, and if I don't get home she'll start peeing in my shoes."

If her pulse was any indication, there was zero chance that she had a cat at all, but he let it slide. He had left the ball in her court last time and it had turned out pretty well for him. There was no harm in doing it again, and hopefully, once she'd had a chance to reflect, she'd take him up on his offer for a round two.

His cock stood in stiff attention, ready at the very thought of tasting her. Touching her. Being inside her again.

"All right. But we still have more to discuss," he called, trailing after her down the hallway. "With regard to the game."

She didn't even turn around as she palmed the knob and waved. "Yup, sounds good. I'll give you a call."

When the door slammed behind her a second later, he looked down at the floor, surprised not to see any skid marks. Not exactly the reaction a guy hoped for the first time he had sex with a woman.

Then again, Sadie Leighton, Waitress Countess of Bavaria wasn't just any woman, was she?