Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline) (6 page)

“What?” She peered down at herself. “It’s a dress.”

“We’re going shopping at a BMW dealership. You need to look like you can afford to buy one.”

“You said dress nice. Not wear pearls and a cardigan.” Her cocky demeanor snapped back into place and she stepped in close, smirking. The flowery smell of her hair swirled around him and his hand twitched to tangle in the smooth strands. “So that’s why you’re wearing a suit.” She gripped his tie and straightened it. “You clean up nice, Fox.”

“Mr. Johnson today. Peter Johnson.”

She snorted a laugh. “Okay. I’ll be . . . Petunia.”

He lifted a brow. “Rein it in, sweetness. You can be . . . Amanda.”

“And are we married?”

“Of course.”

She held up her ring finger and wiggled it. “You forgot to put a ring on it.”

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a ring he’d bought for this reason yesterday, knowing he was close to losing the bet. With mock-seriousness, he said, “Amanda, will you do the honor of being my pretend wife?”

With a gasp, she clasped her hands together. “Oh my God! A cubic zirconia! It’s more beautiful than I ever dreamed!”

The rapture on her face made him laugh. He’d have to get her to tone it down, but he had to admit she had good control over her expression when he didn’t have a hand up her skirt.

He didn’t bother to tell her it was a real diamond.

She took the ring and slid it on her finger. “Okay. So what’s the plan, Pete?”

***

Fox drove the Rolls-Royce down several side roads surrounding the dealership. The engine’s purr was softer than the sports cars he usually delivered. His hands enjoyed the padded leather steering wheel. Everything about this car was made for luxury.

Three hundred and nineteen thousand dollars. Pretty steep if he actually planned to pay for one.

“How does it feel, honey?” Addison asked from the back.

Fox shifted in the seat, pretending to consider its comfort. Of course it was perfect. But it wasn’t his to keep. “Comfortable. It’ll be great for the drive to the beach house.”

The dealer smiled and patted the dashboard. “It’s the most sought-after luxury car, especially in terms of comfort. Perfect for long distance driving.”

“How’s the mileage?” she asked.

Fox gritted his teeth. Rich people didn’t ask about things like gas mileage. “Sweetheart,” he said, “if you like it, we buy it. You don’t need to worry about those sorts of things anymore.”

In the rearview, he saw her face pale. She’d been flawless until now.

The salesman turned to her. “I understand. I’m a conscientious spender myself.”

She smiled winningly. “Peter is used to having money. Me, not so much. Once poor, always poor.”

Fox wondered if Tom hated people like them. Well, who they were pretending to be. It must be insufferable spending all day with people who made so much more than he did and didn’t mind bragging about it. He pulled back into the lot and parked by the side door, where Tom indicated.

Now the real show began.

Addison opened the door and started to climb out. She paused halfway and yelled, “Dang it!”

“What’s wrong, honey?” Fox asked, trying not to sound rehearsed. Right on cue, his phone rang. “It’s work. I’ll just be one sec. Hello, Peter here,” he said into the receiver to Luke.

“I dropped my keys under the car!” Addison stood and wobbled on her heels.

Tom was already beside her, falling for the damsel-in-distress routine.

“Would you help me get them?” she asked him sweetly.

“Sure thing,” Tom replied.

Once he was kneeling on the concrete, with his head halfway under the car, Fox grabbed what he needed from Addison’s purse, which she’d purposely left on the center console.

He plugged the hacking device in under the dash, keeping it low in his crotch, covered by her purse while he uploaded the car’s computer imprint. Later he’d use it to make a keyless entry device and simply come back at night and drive it off the lot. All the while, Luke droned on about a documentary he’d seen about arctic seals as Fox gave nondescript responses every few moments.

“I don’t see them,” Tom said from under the car. “You sure you dropped them here?”

“Yes, I’m sure. They might be behind the tire.”

Fox looked down at the device. Fifty percent complete.

Tom shifted on the ground. “I’m sorry. I just can’t find them.”

Of course not. They weren’t really there.

Fox watched in the rearview mirror. Tom was dangerously close to looking inside the vehicle. He hoped Addison had another trick up her sleeve.

“Oh!” She turned toward the bumper, giving Fox and Tom her back. “I think I see them!”

She bent over just as a gush of wind swept through the lot. Her skirt went up, flashing a red thong. Tom froze, staring at her perfect heart-shaped bottom. For a very unprofessional second, Fox had trouble tearing his gaze away too. Damn, she had a fine ass.

Giving him ample opportunity to unplug the device and shove it back in her purse, she stayed bent over while Tom fought to close his drooling mouth. Fox jumped out of the car, carrying her bag.

When she heard the door shut, she snapped upright. “Found them!” She dangled the keys from her fingers.

Fox slid to her side. “You almost forgot your purse, dear,” he admonished, then kissed her temple. He liked doing that more than he should have.

She dropped her keys in the bag then slipped the straps onto her shoulder. “Thanks for the help, Tom.” Smiling, she turned to Fox. “So what do you think? I really love it!”

He rubbed his chin. “It’s your call, beautiful.”

She turned to Tom. “Do you have it in red? I just
love
red.”

Fox could almost see Tom thinking about the thong. His mouth finally snapped shut, but before he could respond, Fox jumped in.

“I’m not sure about red. We’ll have to talk about that. And we still have that Bentley you liked across town, remember?”

She crinkled her nose. “So many choices.”

“Let’s go home and discuss them. They both have their advantages.” He slid his arm around her waist, liking the way she automatically tucked against him. “Thank you, Tom.”

“If I could just point out a few of the optional features,” he said, “I think I can help you come to a decision.”

Now came the high pressure part. Fox straightened his shoulders and stared him down. “Tom, you and I both know how this works. I’m not going to respond to a hard sell. I wouldn’t be good at my job if I was the type who did, so don’t bother. If I decide to purchase this car, I’ll come back and ask for you, and pay the sticker price. But it’s not going to be right now.”

Tom still looked ready to push.

Addison jumped in, grasping Fox around the waist. “Mmm. I love when you get all commanding like that.” Seductively, she rubbed up against him. “I wanna go home.” Her hand drifted from his chest toward his crotch, stopping at his belt. “Now.”

Holy fuck. What the hell was she doing?

Tom looked as surprised as Fox felt. “Um,” he fumbled for something to say, and averted his gaze.

Addison grabbed Fox’s arm and started pulling him back toward his car. “I don’t know if I’ll make it until we get home. Maybe we can stop on the side of the road again.”

As Tom stuttered through a response, Fox shrugged. “Duty calls.” He let her tug him several steps away. “Nice to meet you, Tom. We’ll be in touch.”

They walked back to his car, Addison still acting like a horny housewife while he tried, desperately, not to respond. He wished the lot was empty so he could spank her ass as soon as they got to the car.

After sliding into their seats and closing the doors, he turned to her. “What the fuck was that?”

“What?” She had the nerve to look offended.

“You can’t throw me off my game like that!”

She rolled her eyes. “It made him uncomfortable so we could leave. Goal achieved.”

“We stick to the plan.” He gritted his teeth. “That’s how this works.” He never should have brought her along. This was what happened when he let his dick make decisions.

“Yeah, well, sometimes you have to improvise. Don’t tell me things work perfectly every time. Go with the flow, Pete.”

“I have things pretty much down to a science at this point.”

“When you’re conning, it isn’t science. You have to think on your feet.”

“I’m aware of that! I had things under control.”

“Didn’t look like it to me. Looked like I saved your ass.”

“You did
not
save my ass.” Why was he arguing with her? The woman was impossible. And he couldn’t concentrate on making sense when her skirt was riding up, flashing him her pretty bare thighs. She noticed his glance and grinned slyly. For fucksakes. How could one woman make him want to simultaneously throttle her and fuck her?

A picture flashed in his mind—him shoving her down on the hood of the car, one hand holding her throat, the other lifting her dress . . .

Swallowing hard, he started the car and pulled out of the lot at a responsible pace. It took all his willpower not to touch her.

“Well, I think that went well,” she murmured. “So, am I in?”

“No.”

“Ugh.”

It would take more than one job to let a new person in. And it would never be her. She was too . . . infuriating. She shifted on the seat and her skirt inched higher. It didn’t help that he knew exactly what panties she had on, and what her ass looked like in them.

Unable to resist, he flicked the hem of her skirt. “Nice panties, by the way.”

She smirked. “I knew you’d look, perv.”

“There’s not a man alive who wouldn’t.”

“A gentleman wouldn’t have.”

“I’m no gentleman,” he grumbled.

At that, she let out a little moan and shifted against the seat again, rubbing her thighs together. Was she turned on too?

Fuck. She was. Now that he was paying attention, he could smell her arousal, like a fucking mating call.

He cleared his throat. “I took you on a job, now you tell me where you hid the tracking device.”

“No.”

“This isn’t negotiable.” No? People didn’t say no to him.

She turned in her seat to face him. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re bossy?”

“Of course. Now answer the question. Where’d you hide the device?”

“No,” she said smugly. “And you can’t make me.”

The dominant part of his brain threatened to short circuit. He just wanted to turn her over his knee and spank her sassy ass—was that so wrong? When they finally ended up in bed together, it was going to be a battle fucking royale.

“A hundred bucks says I can.”

“Another bet?” She pressed her legs together again.

“Never mind. You’re probably too scared.”

Her eyes got that hazy look again. “I’m not scared of you or your dungeon,” she said, voice husky.

Settle down, fuck.
He slid a hand onto her thigh, testing the waters. She didn’t pull away. “What’s got you all turned on, pretty girl?”

He expected outrage so it surprised him when she said, earnestly, “I like danger.”

Well, fuck.

The last of Addison’s sass and bravado melted away as Fox led her down to the basement. Sure, she’d played with dominants before, but not one who seemed to get her like he did. The truth was, she was just as nervous as she had been stealing her first car—except it was worse because submitting to a man who could read her so well meant letting herself be vulnerable. Maybe she could hold onto some control. There was no agreement between them that said she had to give it
all
up.

“So is this a shared dungeon, or your bedroom?” she asked, wondering if the guys had some sort of sock-on-the-doorknob arrangement between them.

“It’s my bedroom. As much as I love my brother and cousin, I need my own space.”

“Okay.” At least there’d be no unexpected company.

What had she been thinking, accepting this bet? What the hell was he going to do to her? Possibilities flicked through her mind, each more depraved than the last. She was simultaneously nervous and yet couldn’t wait to find out.

He paused on the stairs, turning so he could look her directly in the eye. “We can go up to the kitchen for coffee or just watch a movie if you’ve changed your mind.”

Giving her an easy out? A gentleman. Interesting.

“Are you afraid of me, Mr. Fox?” She cocked her head at him, challenging. What was it about this man that made her want to goad him into showing her who was boss? It was about as mature as a ten-year-old playing with firecrackers, but his reactions to it made her heart race. Would watching him blow up be fun, scary, or both?

“Master? Don’t you think you’re jumping the gun? I haven’t even started yet.” He winked at her and she frowned.

“I said mister, but nice try.”

He walked back up the two steps to meet her and nudged her toward the wall with his body until she was pressed between the two. Heat flared through her as she tried to gauge just how much danger he was.

Oh yeah. This was why she took the bet.

She wrapped her fingers into the front of his dress shirt and tugged him even closer, pulling him down so she could kiss his mouth. His smile was dirty and electric, and he kissed her back with light, teasing brushes of his lips. When she tried to deepen the kiss, one of his big hands tangled in her hair, close to her scalp. She grunted at the mild pain, and there was a flash of sadism in his eyes.

Hot damn, the man was sexy.

He took her mouth, his tongue finding hers, urging her to participate while he stayed firmly in control. The press of his erection between them was heady, and she arched against it, hoping he’d lose some of the strict control he had over himself.

She could sense his barely contained lust, and it stripped her gears, considering he was all hot and cut and hardcore badass, while she was a suburban grad-school retail worker. Sure, she stole cars too, but deep down she knew there was a vast chasm between them. Messing with Fox was dangerous business, no matter how nice he seemed. The first time they’d met, she’d seen the dark side of him—hell, he’d punched her out and abducted her. Why wasn’t she being more careful around him?

Why? Because aside from his obvious tasty attributes, she also got the impression he’d give his left nut to shove her facedown and fuck her like a rutting Neanderthal.

And she really, really wanted him to.

His kisses grew more heated. Fox unzipped her dress and impatiently shoved it to the floor, his intensity stealing her breath. She was glad she’d worn a sexy bra and underwear instead of something comfortable, and his eyes said she’d chosen well. His fingertips grazed her pussy through the thin fabric of her thong, and she whimpered, pressing against him.

At this rate, they were going to end up having wall sex, but she was surprisingly okay with getting off without going through the threatened interrogation.

With shaking hands, she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, catching her breath as his chest came into view. He smiled crookedly at her and undid the buttons at his wrists to get rid of it. Oh god, he was glorious. His huge raven tattoos, one on each pectoral, were so lifelike they could have burst from his skin and flown away. Both of his upper arms had very realistic gargoyles. There was more, too, but she was too distracted to stop and examine them. All of his tattoos were symmetrical black and gray, pleasing to the eye and obviously planned out in advance.

She’d wondered what he’d look like bare-chested, and even her sexiest fantasies hadn’t prepared her for a work of art made up of sculpted muscle. Like a little virgin, she lost track of what she was doing, too lost in perusing pecs and abs and lats, and exactly the right amount of body hair. And was that another tattoo along his ribs?

He fumbled at the clasp of her bra, then stopped and drew in a lungful of air before he finally managed to get it undone.

“First time?” She snickered.

“Bitch.” He swatted her ass, and the burn left her wanting more.

Slowly, he drew her bra down her arms, like he was teasing himself with the impending reveal. The way he looked at her, like she was to die for, made her cheeks hot.

When her bra was all the way off, he groaned and cupped one of her breasts in his palm, running a thumb over her hard nipple.

“Very, very nice,” he said, his words a manly purr. It was hard to ignore the way his appreciation made her belly flutter.

She ran her hands over the sleek muscles of his chest, and down to his stomach, taking a shaky breath when she traced the lines of muscle that dipped down into his dress pants.

And oh, crap . . . there was the head of his hard cock, visible at the waistband. Of course—the dickhead would have a big dick. She brushed the pad of her finger over the tip, and he tensed, then stepped back.

“Whoa. Stop.”

“Stop?” She frowned at him, hoping she’d misheard through the sound of her blood rushing past her ears. The last thing she wanted to do was stop. What she wanted to do was unzip his pants so she could keep following those muscles downward and find out exactly how big a cock she’d be dealing with. Fuck, his body was just evil, and she wanted to explore every inch of it with her mouth.

“Didn’t we have a bet?” He quirked a brow at her, but the tension in his muscles refuted his pretense of calm. “You’re really fucking distracting.”

She unbuttoned his pants, then looked surprised, as though she’d done it by accident. “Oh sorry. Did I do that?”

“Are you a bad girl, Addison?” he growled.

Oh, fuck yeah
. She nodded slowly.

“We need to talk about limits before I start torturing you for information.”

She snorted. “I doubt you’ve got the balls to make me tell you anything.”

In response, he bared his teeth, and a thrill of apprehension stole up her spine. She was so horny she just wanted to goad him into doing something . . . anything.

He tightened his grip on her hair and marched her down the rest of the stairs, pulling upward hard enough that she had to resist the urge to walk on her toes.

“Sit,” he barked. He let go of her hair and pointed at the wooden chair against the wall.

She sat, not happy about the delay. “Typical male. You act like you want to have sex, then waste time running your mouth.”

“Cut the sass.” He frowned at her, and the implied “or else’” made her squirm in her seat. “We need to discuss limits before we go any further. We should have talked about them before now, but I couldn’t be sure if you were honestly interested or if you were just fucking with me.”

Good. Her grin didn’t seem to please him, and the thought that he might put her over his knee to teach her a lesson had her fantasizing about it.

“Do you have any experience with kink?”

She sighed, then rattled through her list. “Yes. My hard limits are everything illegal, bodily waste, hardcore humiliation, needle and blood play, hard slaps to the face, and spankings.”

“No spankings?” His eyes were sharp.

She’d hit a nerve and it made her want to giggle, but she knew better. “I was kidding about the spanking part.”

“Hmm. I would have been disappointed. You desperately need spankings.”

“Not just one?”

“I doubt one would do the trick, even if I broke my hand on your ass.”

She raised her brows. “I take it you’re dominant.”

“Give the girl a prize. I’m dominant, but not
a
Dominant
. I don’t do the collaring thing.”

“I don’t need more jewelry. And your limits?”

“They’re similar to yours. Considering this is you I’m talking to, I expect a bit of sass, but I won’t tolerate a lot of mouthing off in bed. Playfulness is fine, but there’s a line.”

Oh, and how she wanted to explore his lines.

She nodded, letting him know she understood. Although she’d do her best to behave, considering how he kept making her feel, she figured the urge to give him a hassle would disappear fast. She had a sinking suspicion he could convince her to be a very good girl.

“You should pick a safeword,” he said the intensity in his eyes making her avert her gaze until she could calm down enough not to shake.

“Let’s go with ‘zombie.’”

“‘Zombie’?”

“Yes.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Well, I hate boring safewords.” She smiled at him, hoping she looked calm and sexy rather than like a bitch in heat. “And I hope you turn me into a sex zombie, so I won’t even think of using my safeword.”

A diabolical grin lit his handsome face. “Fair enough.”

He went to the large, mysterious oak cabinet and opened it. From the length of time he stared into it, she wondered how much crap he had in there. She sat impatiently on the chair, feeling pretty damned naked even with the panties still on. Was it safe to get up? She didn’t want to disobey him, but edgy impatience filled her, and sitting still was feeding into her anxiety . . . but the bastard probably knew that.

One by one, he tossed an array of implements and bindings—crops of different sizes, rope, padded handcuffs, even a large vibrator—onto the bed. The sheer number of items made her hope he was messing with her. Maybe she should have put mind fucks on her hard limit list.

When he finally closed the cupboard doors and turned to look at her, there was a gleam of satisfaction in his gaze.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice almost a purr. “You stayed where I put you.”

Her stupid, traitorous cheeks heated again. For some reason, every time he called her a good girl it made her melt. One of her exes, Mike, had used that term sometimes, but the way he’d said it had given the impression she was in for a pat on the head and maybe a treat. When Fox said it, there was an implied promise of painfully intense orgasms.

“Have you ever done edging?”

Crap. She could pretty much scratch those hoped-for orgasms then. It was something she’d always wanted to try, but she’d never found a guy who had the patience to keep her on the brink of orgasm for ages, but with Fox it felt like they’d already been at it for days.

“No,” she said, doing her best to seem unfazed by the idea. “I’m game if you think you can handle it.” She let her tone hint at the “little boy” she’d left unsaid.

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, I can handle it, sweetheart. You just try to remember you have a safeword, okay?”

“I’m sure I won’t forget.” She swallowed hard, not sure at all.

“Before we get started, we need to have a little talk.”

Talk? Damn, she should have put that on her list of hard limits. The last thing she wanted to do right then was get chatty.

“Yes?”

He sat on the foot of the bed and beckoned to her. When she reached him, he stood her in front of him, placing her where he wanted her. Crap. This had headmaster’s office written all over it, and she was too horny to deal with acting out role-play scenarios.

“What you did when we were casing the dealership could have blown our cover,” he explained, as though to a child. “When we’re on a job, you need to do what you’re told and stick to the script as much as possible. Too many embellishments or being too flashy will make salespeople remember who we are. That’s a bad thing.”

God, did they have to talk about that now?

“Do you understand me, Addison?” He narrowed his eyes.

The way he said her name was so fucking sexy.

Wait. Was this even allowed? She hadn’t agreed to let him have control over her when it came to business, but he was . . . mixing things. It was messing with her head. Could she tell him to fuck off without damaging the beginnings of their kink dynamic? Maybe she should safeword.

“I hear what you’re saying,” she said carefully. “But maybe we just have different styles of doing things. Just because you don’t like my way, doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

“Trust me, it is. Especially since you promised to follow my lead, then didn’t. This might be a fun little hobby for you, but it’s my life. I’m not interested in ending up in jail or losing respect in my community because I’m training a loose cannon.”

She shuffled her feet, embarrassed both because he was taking her to task, and because she was mostly naked and feeling too vulnerable for this discussion. But of course he knew, and was capitalizing on it.

“So what I’m saying is, if you want to learn from me, you have to do things my way.”

She sighed. “Yes, Fox.”

“Now what kind of punishment do you think you deserve?”

Her mouth fell open. What? Outrage throbbed through her. She wanted to smack his handsome face. Curling her hands into fists at her sides, she let her irritation show in her expression.

“It’s not fair for you to make this into a kink thing. I highly doubt you’d punish me this way if I was a guy you were training.”

His brows raised. “You’re absolutely right. If you were a man, I would have pulled off the road somewhere, punched you out, and ended our arrangement. Between the fact that you’re female and we’re . . . whatever we are . . . I thought this was a more appropriate way to deal with the situation.”

Ugh. Hardass.

She had the strong urge to walk away and tell him to go fuck himself, but she didn’t want to stop training with him now, after she’d worked so hard to convince him to take her on. It was looking like she’d have to swallow her pride. The ache in her lower belly was telling her to agree to anything to make him happy, but she also didn’t want to go overboard with that. Being submissive in the bedroom was one thing, but she didn’t want to lose his respect as a fellow car thief. Eventually she’d know everything he knew, and she wanted him to take her seriously.