Thief Ch. 05

Well, this day couldn't get any worse for her.

On the list of "most likely scenarios" Charlie may have come up with while she walked to the pawnshop, nothing about getting arrested by the police had made it. Yet, here she was, stuck in a jail cell, and waiting for the person who had gotten her arrested to identify her.

She pondered on the possibility of him being unable to identify her. Maybe he'd come down and see her and assume she wasn't the one, and that would be that...then again, that wasn't on her list of likely scenarios either, so, the possibilities of such a thing happening was pretty low. If she haunted him anywhere as much as thoughts of him haunted her, then he would for damn sure know what she looked like.

It had been roughly a week since their meeting, why she never thought he would get her arrested for taking his stuff, she would never know...then again, hadn't she taken other people's stuff and gotten away with it?

Other people who never got their privates inside you.

Her brain snidely reminded her. Yes, there was that little omission. She had stolen from others, but had never been seen by all of her past victims, how much more bedded by them.

Twice

Charlie groaned softly. How was she going to get herself out of this jam? She had been gone for over an hour now, she didn't expect Maris to go looking for her just yet. She had a thing for whiling away time on one errand or the other anyway, so, her friend would just assume she had found something to distract her. Perhaps it wasn't until evening came, that Maris would worry. How she was going to get herself out of this cell before then, was a mystery to her.

She definitely wouldn't be calling her best friend, nor could she call the foster mother she hadn't spoken to since she had quietly moved out.

Maybe she could appeal to the humanity of the man who had gotten her arrested...an involuntary scoff slipped past her lips at that thought.

Humanity? That man who had taken her like he owned every inch of her body, didn't strike her as someone whose humanity could be appealed to...then again, she hadn't taken him for someone who would have her arrested for his wrist watch. Unless...

"Charlotte Devin."

Charlie cringed slightly at the mention of her full name. She hadn't been called Charlotte since middle school, still she responded quickly, as she rushed forward, "Yes."

One of the police officers with a smug look approached her, "You've been bailed out. Charges have been dropped." He stated, as if it hurt him to speak those words.

Charlie's eyes grew wide in surprise. Had she guessed wrong about the man then? Had he gotten her arrested just to inconvenience her, rattle her a bit and then let her go?

"There's someone waiting for you at the reception." The officer continued as he stepped aside to allow her passage.

Charlie's brows furrowed, and her heart beat wildly in her chest. Was it him? Was he waiting for her? Why though? To let her know he had saved her? She followed the officer quietly, until they reached the reception.

The first person she noticed was a rather tall man...in fact, he was perhaps the tallest person in the room, but he wasn't the guy from the hotel. This guy was noticeably different; he was bulkier, and while some would call him handsome in a 'henchman' sort of way, he wasn't conventionally attractive with his buzzcut, strong jaw and large nose. He was also wider; built more like a linebacker. The man who had learnt every curve of her body and explored all of her erogenous zones was built like a quarterback.

Still, she followed the officer until she was standing in front of the linebacker, and when the officer told the man, "Here she is, Mr. Romanov." as if she were some prostitute brought to entertain him, Charlie felt even more confused.

What did this man want with her? She had never met him in her life.

He looked over her, as if sizing her up for...yes, the purpose of prostitution. While his expression gave away little, Charlie sensed she didn't meet his requirements. Hopefully, this meant he would let her go on with her life.

"Thank you officer, I'll take it from here."

The police officer smiled much in the same way a politician would smile at a top donor for his campaign, "Of course."

Charlie watched the officer walk away from them without another glance at her, disbelief blatant on her face. Had he just abandoned her with a stranger? Was that even allowed? Did the police oath of "serve and protect" end at the door of a suspected criminal?

"Charlotte Devin." The huge man spoke to her, an accent in his voice. An accent that sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place...but that was not the most bothersome thing about the words that had left his mouth.

"It's Charlie." She grumbled.

The man looked her over, this time, with the dismissiveness one would give a fly, "Come with me." He said, and then turned around and led her out of the building.

Charlie sensed he had not made a request, but an order. The repercussions of not following that order, could very well lead her back to the cell. Slowly, she followed the strange man, the entire time, wondering how this man knew her, and how she could get out of this latest bind. She had not thought she would leave the cell, only to be transferred to a strange man. Another occurrence that had not made her list of most likely scenarios.

Today just kept slamming surprises into her. What was next?

A car. A sleek car that cost whatever Maris would make in 3 years at the least. That was what was next.

The huge guy stopped by the car and turned to her, "Get in."

Charlie stared up at him like he had lost his mind, and he might as well have. She may not have watched half as much crime series as Maris did, but she knew for sure that "get in" were two words that usually preceded an abduction.

Had the police just handed her over to even bigger criminals? Was she about to be trafficked? This was definitely not on her list.

"What's inside?" She asked.

The big guy cocked a brow at her, but didn't say anything else. It was all the communication Charlie needed; it was another order, not a request.

She did a quick sign of the cross, just before opening the door and slipping into the car.

As soon as she turned to her right though, she instantly wished she had done an entire prayer session, because the sign of the cross was not sufficient enough to divert the train that came slamming into her.

Not only did the entire cabin carry his heady scent, his entire body sat rigidly beside her, and those blue eyes regarded her with a familiar hunger that instantly sent her temperature skyrocketing.

Him.

Chapter Six

She almost seemed unreal, sitting right next to him. She looked noticeably different from the last time he had seen her.

For one thing, at the hotel, she had put on some make-up. Today, her face was bare...and stunning. She looked much younger than the mid-20's age he had guessed her to be with the make-up off, and much closer to the 22 he had learnt only moments ago. Those honey-coloured eyes stared at him like he was a nightmare come to life, her full lips were slightly parted in shock, and her entire body was stiff.

She was probably trying to decide if bolting out of the car was a good idea. She made no attempt to make her escape though.

"Charlie Devin..." he began, as his eyes drifted over her form, noting her choice of faded jeans and a rather oversized top that hid all the curves Sergei was well aware she possessed. As much as he preferred the short, black dress she had on that night, he also found this outfit exciting. Simple, but effective. Also, the thought of her parading those curves around for the pleasure of other men, didn't quite appeal to him.

He took his eyes away from her, as he recalled some of the facts he had learnt of her, "22-years old, you possess a High School diploma, you're an orphan, you have no job. Used to live with your foster mother, Ernestine Jacobs, but these days, you're with Maris Beal, your best friend. Favourite colour is blue, your favourite movie is..." he chuckled softly at the one fact that he found a bit humorous, "... Toy Story..." he glanced at her, to gauge her reaction. She still had not come out of her state of shock, "...you don't have any political leanings, nor moral ones, it may seem..."

That shot was enough to pull her out of her silent state, "Listen I..."

"You shouldn't interrupt when someone is speaking Miss Devin." He cut in. She went mute immediately.

So humble and docile, nothing like the fiery girl that had matched him word for word only a week or so ago.

"No known boyfriend or partner, no pets, and no plans to further your education. Perhaps, the lack of excitement in your life, was the main catalyst for sneaking into my room."

"I'm sorry, okay?" She interrupted, her eyes filled with actual remorse, "I should never have snuck into your room or stolen your watch. If the police hadn't taken it into custody, I would have handed it to you right now. It hasn't been sold or anything like that, I can still give it back and we can put all of this behind us."

Sergei had imagined them meeting again, and even dreamt about it. In each of those dreams, their conversations had never gone in this manner. Granted, they barely even spoken in those dreams, but still....the watch? Did she really think he had gone through all this hassle because of a watch? Had he imagined the chemistry between them? The way she had wrapped her thighs around his waist and released a multitude of expletives while he filled her up, had he imagined all that? He could still feel a slight tingle on his back, from the scars she gave him when her fingers had scratched his back in the throes of ecstacy.

Had he imagined all that? Or was she pulling his legs with this conclusion?

"The watch?" He asked. "You think I did all of this because of the watch?"

She had the temerity to look perturbed, as if no other reason could be conceived, "Why else?"

Why....? Sergei felt an anger descend on him. Why else? He had tried, the universe would bear him witness, he tried, but words simply didn't suffice for the reasons he ached to give her.

So, he gave her those reasons as best he could.

One moment, they were sitting at opposite ends of the car, the next, Sergei had closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against hers. Seeking, demanding, needing...

She only went still for a brief moment, before her body recognised his touch. Her sleek fingers dug into his hair, her lips parting to grant him entrance. Sergei grabbed the opportunity as soon as it was presented to him. His tongue speared into the warmth of her mouth, pulling out a groan from them both.

Shit! It hadn't been his imagination. It had all been real. This engulfing flame he had experienced the moment he kissed her, it was no illusion. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her along, as he leaned back into his seat, so that she ended up on top him, a position they had barely explored that night because it had been all too much for Sergei.

Her tongue met his stroke for stroke, both her hands cradling his jaw as her hips began moving atop him. Fuck yes!

His hand grabbed her full derriere eagerly, enjoying it's softness, even through the fabric of her jeans. The tiny moans that had been the soundtrack to many of his fantasies filled the cabin of the car, making him even more aware of his hardness.

Sergei felt that animalistic need tear through him...he needed to feel her, he needed to remind himself of that heat that had ruled his mind for days.

His hands moved eagerly to the front of her jeans, and unbuckled, but that seemed to be the right spell to cast out whatever had taken over his little minx.

Her hands immediately caught his eager ones, stilling his movement, as her lips left his.

Sergei stared up at her flushed face. Those eyes looked down at him in a mixture of awe and shock, her full lips were swollen thanks to his kiss, he had to tamp down the urge to pull her back in to appease whatever monster she had awoken in him.

Being aroused was not an alien feeling for Sergei, but it had never been this intense. He had never felt the strong urge to even take a woman in the backseat of a car, especially when it was never on the cards. Yet, here he was, ready to familiarise himself once again, with the planes of Charlie's body.

"I'm not that kind of girl..." she began, as if trying to remind herself, more than she was trying to tell him, "...I'm not...this kind of girl." She stated, her voice firmer.

Sergei could only watch, as she slipped off him and created the distance once again, returning to the opposite end of the car. This time, she molded her body even closer to the door, as if fearing he would lunge for her again.

"I don't sneak into people's hotel rooms and sleep with them. I steal from them, but never..." she paused, searching for the words she needed, "...never what we did." She finished.

"Yet, at no point did you tell me to stop the entire night." He stated. His words caused her eyes to widen even further, if that was even possible. She looked like a teenager who had been accused of cheating in an exam.

"You shared my bed, and gave me your body, and then ran off before I could open my eyes..."

"I broke in, I didn't want you to call the cops on me." She blurted out.

"And yet, here you are."

He watched her shoulders deflate, clearly realising the folly in all of her actions leading up to this moment. She had no idea just how much she would regret those actions in the next minutes.

Sergei adjusted his suit, as well as his now semi-hard length, before the next words left his lips, "There's a charge for felony theft already drafted with your name on it, and I'm pretty sure more charges will be added if the hotel learns of your activities. Whether that charge makes it to a court though, is up to you."

He watched her face grow pale with fear, and her body go still. He had her full attention now.

"If you agree to being my mistress for the next month or two, those charges will be immediately trashed. If you don't, the moment you step out of this car, you'll be returned to the cell you just got out of. Those are the options you have."

Fear dissipated quickly, and was replaced by disbelief, "Mistress?" She spat the word out like it was a tasteless meal, "Listen, I just said that I'm not that kind of girl. I don't know the first thing about being someone's mistress, why would you even want me for such a thing?" She asked.

Sergei cocked his brow, "Whatever you know or don't know is unimportant. Whatever you need to know, I'm very sure, you will learn as time progresses."

She chuckled, "No, you don't understand. I can't just up and leave."

"You have no job." He began, "You have no family, just a best friend and a foster mother, both of whom may not miss you much. Why can you not up and leave? Or, would you rather the justice system take you away?"

"You can't do that." Her voice was up a pitch, relaying just how crazy she thought his request.

Well, crazy is what he had been since she gave him a taste of her and ran out without a word. Crazy is what he had felt since thoughts of her had held his mind hostage. Crazy is what he would be, if he never got to have her again. He couldn't afford to be crazy.

"My flight back to Russia leaves tonight. We'll drop you off at your place and give you a few hours to take some of your valuables. Do not bother with clothes, shoes or accessories, all of that will be provided for you once we're in Russia. You can let your friend know you'll be out of the country for some time. The car will be by around 5PM to pick you up, and bring you down to the airport." He supplied. The entire time, she stared at him in disbelief, "If you try to be smart, I'll have pictures of you plastered all over this city for theft, and then you'll spend a few years in jail. Are we clear?" He asked pointedly.

Reminding her of the very real possibility of jail time was enough to quench whatever fiery retort hung at the tip of her tongue. He watched realisation dawn on her, saw the fire die from her eyes.

"Are we clear, Charlotte?"