Page 14 of It Takes a Thief (Ring of Thieves #2)

O nce we’re back up in Merritt’s penthouse, and I’ve checked it from top to bottom, I can breathe again. I’m a level-headed guy, and it takes a helluva lot to upset me, much less put me in a tailspin.

Merritt almost being run the fuck over? Seeing her beautiful face lit up in those headlight beams? Hearing the squeal of tires? That caused sheer panic to punch through my gut.

The damn SUV came barreling straight at her. Thank Christ, I was there and got her out of the vehicle’s deadly path in the nick of time.

Because that was no fucking accident. It was intentional, and I’m going to find the motherfucker who’s behind this. When I do, he’s going to pay in spades.

A dark anger erupts within me, spreading through my body. I glance over and see Merritt standing there looking lost, arms wrapped around herself. My attention zeroes in on her scraped elbow and upper arm, which only further ignites my fury.

“We need to clean your arm,” I say through gritted teeth. “C’mon.”

I lead her into the half bath and use some soap and water to gently clean the wounds.

Luckily, they’re only surface scrapes, but it could’ve been so much worse.

She’s quiet throughout my ministrations while I’m mentally contemplating how I’m going to find and then beat the ever-living shit out of whoever did this.

Once I’m finished, she lets out a shaky sigh.

“I don’t understand,” she whispers. “Why would someone want to hurt me?”

I don’t say it, but whoever this asshole is, he wants to do more than merely hurt her. After the calling card left in her pillow, and now an attempted hit and run, we’re dealing with someone who has murder on his mind.

“No one is going to hurt you,” I promise her. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Who’s going to take care of you?” she asks quietly.

Surprised by her words, I search her blue eyes. So innocent and full of concern. “What?”

No one has ever looked out for me. Not when I was growing up, and certainly not now. I’ve always taken care of myself. Fought tooth and nail for everything I have.

“That car almost hit you, too, Linc. If anything would’ve happened to you, I never would have forgiven myself.” Her voice drops. “I’ll help protect you, too.”

Her concern, so sweet and unexpected, blasts through my carefully-constructed walls like a TKO from the great Georges “Rush” St-Pierre. To have this slip of a girl bravely offer to protect me infuses my chest with a weird sort of warmth.

“We’ll protect each other,” I say, voice rough, and she nods.

Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I wring out the washcloth I was using and lay it on the edge of the sink.

“All done,” I say. “I don’t think there will be any scarring.”

“Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

For a moment, neither of us moves. It’s almost like we’re looking for a reason to stay close. When her small hand boldly reaches out and covers my rapidly-beating heart, I clench my jaw.

“It’s beating so fast,” she murmurs.

“Your touch has that effect,” I respond huskily. My attention dips to the pulse hammering in her throat, and I circle my finger in that delectable crevice between her collarbones. Seems like I affect her, too.

Desire thickens the blood roaring through my veins, and something shifts between us. My gaze flickers to hers, and there’s an unmistakable fire smoldering in her blue eyes, making the golden threads burn brighter than usual.

My will to keep her at arm’s length crumbles, and I slide my hand around her neck and pull her close.

Hard and fast, my lips capture hers, demanding complete acquiescence.

Her hands slide up, gripping my shoulders, and it feels like she’s holding on for dear life.

Ignoring that annoying voice of reason in my head, I scoop her up, walk out of the bathroom and head straight to the living room, dropping down on the couch with her on top of me.

“Straddle me,” I order gruffly. When she complies, I pull her flush against me.

Feeling those delicious curves mold against my body sends any lingering good intentions spiraling out the window. Thrusting my tongue into her mouth, I deepen the kiss. Tasting. Exploring. Taking.

When she starts rubbing herself against my aching dick, I groan.

I’m at the point where heaven and hell collide.

Pure torture. My wicked hands help her hips move faster, and I meet her needy pussy with my own gyrations.

Nipping her bottom lip, I suck it into my mouth then release it with a pop.

The control I’m trying so desperately to hang onto is disintegrating fast. But, goddamn, she feels so good. So right.

You’re taking advantage of her , the angel on my shoulder says.

And she loves it , the devil on my opposite side argues.

As much as I want to see her come, watch the pleasure roll over her pretty face, the damn angel wins. Guilt makes me rip my mouth away. Great time to develop a conscience, Decker.

“Nooo,” she moans, hands tightening around my biceps, not letting go.

When was the last time a woman held me so tightly?

As much as I want her, she isn’t mine to take. Or, at least, that’s what I try to tell myself.

But my princess is having none of that.

“Lincoln Decker, don’t you dare start something you don’t plan on finishing,” she states in her most royal voice.

“We’re crossing a line,” I warn her.

“What if I want to cross it?” she challenges, giving another slow grind of her hips against my aching dick.

Christ, have mercy. I’m barely holding on and she’s tempting me to the point of no return.

“You’ve had too much to drink. You should go to bed,” I growl.

“I might’ve been tipsy earlier, but nearly being run over sobered me up pretty fast.”

Her words cut through me. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for saving me?” She cups my face, staring intently into my eyes.

“No, of course not.” I love the feel of her soft hands, and I rub my cheek against her palm.

“You’re stubbly.” She smiles, dragging a finger along my jawline, then up to lightly stroke my bottom lip.

“Mer…”

I can feel myself caving with each swipe of her finger. Her floral scent fills my nostrils. Instead of pulling away, I lick her finger. She inhales swiftly, our gazes still locked.

“I’m here to protect you, not take advantage of you,” I tell her.

“I’m a grown woman, Linc. If I offer myself to you, it’s not taking advantage.” She shifts restlessly and my fingers dig into her hips.

“You gotta stop moving, sweetheart,” I warn her, “or there will be consequences.”

“Promise?”

“Christ, Mer, are you trying to kill me?”

She settles back on my thighs. “I have a proposition for you. And before you say no, it won’t break any of your rules.”

“Go on,” I urge, despite my better judgment.

“My time is almost up and I’m about to be forced into a loveless marriage.” She clears her throat. “I’ve never had a one-night stand before. Actually, um, I’ve never had any kind of stand before.”

Oh, sweet Jesus in heaven. Is she telling me—

“I’ve never been with a man, Linc,” she whispers, cheeks turning an adorable shade of crimson, “but I’d like to change that. With you.”

My heart spirals madly and my dick would give an enthusiastic thumbs-up if it could. Meanwhile, the angel and demon on my shoulders are wrestling furiously. “Mer…”

My voice trails off. What do I say to that?

“Think about it.” Before I can respond, she grabs my nipple through my T-shirt and twists. “I could always call Elliot.”

Unbelievable little vixen. “That’s not funny,” I growl, lifting her up and spinning her fast. She lets out a surprised squeal and finds herself flat on her back.

“Is that a yes?” she whispers.

Instead of answering with words, I kiss her.

Hard. And, this time, I don’t hold back.

She needs to understand what sex with me is like.

I’m not slow and gentle, I’m hard and fast. I’ll make sure she comes, but I don’t linger, and I certainly don’t cuddle.

Once we’re done, I leave. And I don’t do seconds.

Rule number two is extremely important. It prevents emotional attachments from developing.

On occasion, I’ve been called a cold bastard because of it. Sorry, not sorry. Self-preservation overrules all else.

Plus, I watched my mom self-destruct after my dad left her. I never want to make any woman hurt like that.

Ending the rough kiss, I pull back and she’s breathing hard. Hell, so am I. “I’m bossy and demanding,” I warn her.

“In bed? Or, just in general?” she teases.

“Both.”

“That’s okay. I might need a little guidance.”

Refusing her is becoming impossible, and the overwhelming need to taste her somewhere else fills me.

Pulling back, I decide to challenge her.

To find out if she’s playing games or if she’s really all in.

I slide my hands up her thighs and pop the button on her jeans.

She visibly swallows as I drag the zipper down.

“You want to do it here? Maybe we should go upstairs?” she suggests.

“Maybe you should spread your legs.”

Her lips part on a quiet gasp. So ladylike. It’s making me crazy. The women I’ve taken to bed have been nothing like her. They were all experienced and knew better than to question me.

“I want to taste you, Mer. Lick your pussy until you come.”

Those big blue eyes of hers watch as I tug her jeans down her legs.

“Do you want my mouth on you?” I slide off the couch, studying her intently as I slowly caress up and down her silky thighs.

“Y-yes,” she breathes.

Leaning forward, I press a lingering kiss on the center of her silky panties. She lets out a whimper that goes straight to my rock-hard dick, making it ache even more. And while I’m supposed to be testing her, suddenly things shift, leaving me feeling like I’m the one being challenged.

Drawing in a steadying breath, I hook my fingers in the lace edges.

And despite what I said earlier, I slide her panties down so slowly, with a gentleness I didn’t know I possess.

My mouth starts watering when I see she’s already wet, glistening for me.

I wasn’t actually planning to go through with fucking her, but now I’m having second thoughts.

“So pretty,” I murmur, then glance up at her. She’s watching every move I make with bated breath. Dropping the panties, I slip my hands under her ass, lift her hips and haul her forward. Then I bury my face between her sweet thighs.