To Know a Thief Ch. 02

"Your solution is adultery?"

Three sets of eyes stared at her in disbelief. Even Harper couldn't believe what had just come out of her mouth, but resolve settled like a stone in her stomach. Standing in only a pair of plain blue cotton underwear, she focused on a small imperfection on the wall behind the three men. She couldn't bring herself to look at any of them.

Finally the leader of the thieves shook his head. Harper saw the curls framing his face shake in the dim light. "You expect us to believe that?"

Harper met his gaze. "You think I want to die tonight over a few electronics? I don't give a shit if you take every last thing in this apartment and leave me with nothing but my life. It's the only thing of value."

She gulped, realizing her mistake. Never tell thieves that you're the best loot in the house. The leader seemed to have the same thought because the skin around his eyes tightened briefly before he glanced at each of his lackeys in turn. It was clear neither of them had read anything into her words.

When the room had been silent for too long, the other two men looked to their leader. Waited. Harper did too, each breath she pulled in more of a struggle than the last. What she was doing was insane by any standards, and if he didn't find her a worthy enough prize to take the risk . . . She gulped.

Finally the leader's stance changed. Harper stared at him in barely concealed shock, reading his intentions from the shift of his feet. The shift of his focus. He spoke in a low rumble to his companions.

"We got what we wanted. Take it and go," he said. His eyes never left hers.

The two men's protests were overridden by a sharp bark from their master and they slunk out like dogs, casting hateful and envious glances over their shoulders. Harper held her breath until she heard them shuffling around in the living room and exhaled as the front door opened and shut. Her relief lasted less than a second as she realized they'd just left her alone with the man who commanded such leches with a single word. Suddenly she wanted to run after them, but the leader's stare pinned her down.

Harper waited for him to pounce. To say something. To mock her or leer at her. He simply stood in the doorway, eyes never dropping below her neck. When he spoke she flinched even though his voice was soft.

"How exactly does sleeping with me get you out of trouble?" he asked. It was a sound question, one she'd been ready for.

Harper gestured to the tripod still lying at her feet. "We record it."

The leader's expression was unreadable as he mulled her words. "And I take the recording with me for good measure."

Harper nodded, a damp clump of auburn hair falling over the side of her cheek. She brushed it aside with irritation.

"This is insane," he stated after another long pause. Harper nodded again and the leader's answering laugh was dark. He glanced at a heavy watch around his wrist. "Your husband will be home in six hours. That gives us a lot of time."

Harper choked down a lump in her throat. He was testing her resolve, she knew, and showing trepidation could lead to her death. She ran her fingers down her stomach and hooked them in the sides of her underwear, making sure he was watching as she pulled them down. They joined her nightgown on the floor.

His eyes finally slid down her body, taking in her curves, coming to a stop on her breasts. Her nipples hardened under the directness of his focus. Still staring without the slightest hint of either appreciation or deprecation, he jutted his chin toward something over her shoulder. Harper looked back and saw the camera resting on the dresser. Willing her fingers to be steady and failing, she grabbed it and turned it on. The red light blinked twice and then stayed on, an encouraging message in Morse Code that she pretended meant, 'Stay strong.'

The thief was still watching her and for the first time the true nature of his thoughts was visible to her. She realized with a rush that he was amused. Anxious. Turned on. When he stepped toward her Harper's body moved of its own accord, angling toward him. Instead of reaching for her he took the camera and studied the screen.

"Making sure I actually started filming?" she asked. Whose voice was that, so calm and sure? It couldn't be hers. The leader of the thieves set the camera back down, satisfied, and turned so that they were facing each other. Harper was less than an inch away from a man who no doubt hid a handful of weapons on his person, and whose lips were pressed together in a tense line. He'd gone back to being unreadable, shutters drawn over his dark eyes.

"How do you know I won't take what I want and kill you anyway?" He leaned down and she automatically moved her head back. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

"The other two wanted to rape and kill me. You didn't."

The thief stepped closer, the rough cloth of his jacket rubbing against Harper's bare skin. He hovered over her like a black cloud, took in every detail of her face. The way his eyes moved back and forth made it look like he was reading something and she wondered what exactly he was learning. She worked to make her expression as impassive as his and could tell when she failed because he leaned back and something wicked gleamed in the depths of his pupils.

"How do you know what I want?" he asked. His voice, so smooth and disconnected before, was laced with menace. It promised pain if he heard a single word he didn't like and pleasure if she gave the right answer.

Though the room was warm Harper shivered. "Because you're not a murderer."

The gleam grew larger and began to spread across his face. The corners of his mouth twitched. "You're proving right now that people will do almost anything to survive. You play whore. I play executioner."

Harper would've been offended if he hadn't been right about her. She was taking the less honorable way out in the name of staying alive. Still, she didn't believe that he'd ever killed anyone. If he had, if he was that comfortable with killing, then he and his two associates would've left her apartment with blood on their hands.

The thief lifted a hand, knuckles brushing the length of her arm. He slid out of his jacket and let it fall to the floor, metal flashing in the light. Knives had been tucked away in small pockets and straps on the inside. He watched her notice them, studied her intently, and she was proud when she gave nothing away.

At least, she thought she gave nothing away. His voice was a mixture of curiosity and sinister arousal when he asked, "You've thought about it before, haven't you?"

"Thought about what?"

The thief let out a low snarl that made the hair on her arms stand up. "Don't feign stupidity, you've already proven your intelligence." He gestured to the knives that jutted out of his jacket like silver teeth. "You've wondered what it would be like to use one of those. To kill someone."

Harper backed away a step and shook her head. His face contorted in anger and he kicked away her discarded clothing as he advanced on her with a predator's grace. His hand wrapped around her throat and jerked her head up, forcing her to stare him straight in the face.

"Don't lie to me. Don't omit. Answer me with honesty or this deal is off. You may not think I'm a killer but is that something you really want to test? I'll answer for you: it's not. So tell me the fucking truth if you want to leave this bedroom alive. Do you understand?" The thief loosened his grip enough for her to nod and then he released her, though he didn't give her back her personal space. When he crossed his arms they brushed against her nipples and she gritted her teeth.

"I've thought about it," she managed. He seemed satisfied by the admission for the moment and stepped around her, setting his foot on the edge of the bed frame and beginning to unlace his combat boot.

"And what, exactly, did you think?" he asked, fingers deftly undoing the knots.

Harper rubbed the back of her neck. Sweat was starting to bead on her skin again. "I thought that I'm not capable of it. I'm a lot of things, but I'll never be a murderer."

"Only fools think that way." He pulled his boot off and got to work on the other. Harper watched him warily, conflicting emotions swirling inside of her. On the one hand, he seemed intent to terrify her. On the other, the muscles banding his bare arms were so impressive that the primal beast inside her began to imagine them coiling around her, holding her in place as she straddled him.

"I'm a fool and I'm smart," she muttered. "That sounds about right."

The thief shot her a glance over his shoulder and her cheeks warmed. He tossed away the second boot and straightened. Without the slightest hesitation he pulled the t-shirt over his head and stood half-naked in front of her. Harper swallowed and tried not to notice the ridges of his abdomen or the tattoo that curled around the left side of his ribcage.

"You're capable of murder," he said matter-of-factly. When she didn't retort he went on. "Let's say you were holding a knife when we came in. You had one squirreled away somewhere and hid it behind your back when you opened the door. You thought about having to use it if we attacked you. Would you have killed us then or let us live?"

Harper was starting to grow irritated. Why was he so intent on drawing the situation out? He could've fucked her three times already and gone on his way. The thought wasn't as horrifying as it should've been, especially given the topic of conversation he'd chosen. "I would have let you live."

The thief snorted and the image of a bull preparing to lunge flashed through her mind. "Then I amend my earlier statement. You're a fucking moron. Let's change the scenario again. You have the knife and I've decided that not only am I going to fuck you, my friends are, too. We're going to fill every hole in your body with come and leave you a sniveling mess for your husband to find. What do you do then? Let us?"

Fear flashed through her, white-hot, bringing her partially back to her senses. The thief read the emotion on her face and smiled. "You still wouldn't kill us, would you? What would it take?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

His smile twisted, became sardonic. "I believe you." He bent and peeled the socks from his feet, throwing them across the floor. When his hands reached for his belt Harper had no idea what to feel. She wanted to ask him not to, to spare her out of pity, but it would've been just as pointless as begging for her life. She'd accepted the surety of her death twenty minutes ago. She could accept this, too. After all, it had been her idea.

Fixing her with another soul-searing gaze, the thief removed his pants and boxers in one swift movement. Harper flushed when his erection bounced free and when he stilled, its considerable length pointed toward her. Her nipples stiffened in response, their bodies trying to connect across the small space separating them.

She couldn't deny her biological reaction to him. Her mouth dried, her stomach fluttered, and she grew instantly wet between the legs. She would've taken a modicum of comfort in the presence of his erection but she had a feeling he was hard not because of her body, but because of their conversation. The darkness within him was suddenly a living thing, filling the room, and she understood what his words had really been saying. 'I'm more dangerous than the two other thieves combined. You shouldn't have let yourself be trapped in a room with me.'

Those fears were made all the more obvious when he bent down and slid one of the knives free, holding it delicately in his hand. Harper sucked in a breath but he didn't step toward her, didn't even look at her.

"What if I was going to fuck you as promised, but then I was going to kill you anyway? What if you knew that when I was finished I was going to wrap my hands around your pretty little throat? I could squeeze the breath from you with one hand." He raised his hand, palm up, offering her the blade. "Would you stop me now or wait until the heat of the moment? Do you have the courage for premeditation?"

Harper could feel tears threatening to overflow but she forced them back. She forced her hands to stop trembling and her heart to stop trying to beat its way free of her chest. "I wouldn't kill you. I'd die glad to have finally been fucked."

The thief's eyes widened and she relished the momentary shock on his handsome, degenerate face. His erection jerked and he put the knife on top of her dresser with deliberate slowness.

"You don't actually mean that," he said, taking a step toward her. Her body betrayed her, reflexively stepping back, until her legs bumped into the edge of the bed. He sneered. "See? You're afraid of me. You said before that I wasn't a killer but now you don't trust your own opinion."

"That was before you threatened to strangle me to death. You also called me stupid for thinking that way," she breathed, voice barely a whisper.

He took another step. "Words and actions. You started paying attention to the former and forgot all about the latter."

Harper thought about that as he took another step, though his proximity muddled her thoughts. There was less than a foot between them. She watched the graceful, purposeful moves of his body, took in the hard set of his jaw and the unfathomable look in his eyes. "You're right, I did."

He closed the last bit of space between them and brushed his fingertips along her shoulder. Over her collarbone. When his hand was in the center of her chest he gave a gentle push and she fell back on the bed. The thief stopped to take in the sight of her sprawled out on the sheets, his chest rising and falling with such evenness that Harper wondered if even his heart was trained not to betray any of his emotions. If he even had them.

Then he was on top of her, pinning her arms above her head and locking his legs over hers. She felt his stiff member pressing into her belly and couldn't help the surge of lust that whipped through her. He didn't look at her or offer any type of traditional foreplay before she felt his hand between them. He paused to adjust before plunging all the way into her core.

A hiss slid from between the thief's lips as he whipped his head to stare at her in astonishment. His whole body grew so still that she wondered if he was going to pull out, if he was going to make good on one of his threats, but then lowered his head again and was drilling into her so hard that her back arched off the mattress and her head snapped back of its own accord. Whatever thoughts she had were fucked back into the depths of her mind, and all she knew was the intense gratification of his cock inside her and the heat rolling off of his muscular body.

His black curls brushed her cheek as he began to rhythmically pump into her slick sheath, his hot breath tickling her neck. He refused to let go of her wrists or her legs so she was powerless, taking his pounding and ignoring the stiffness in her joints. After a few minutes she forgot she even had wrists or legs.

"What's your name?" she asked after a while, sentence broken as he pulled his hips back, leaving just the tip inside her, before slamming home and making her toes curl. With each powerful thrust her nipples raked against his chest and stars burst to life before her eyes.

He didn't slow as he answered, lips brushing her ear, "Call me Kohl." Harper moaned at the sound of his voice, so controlled before but now raw with undeniable lust. He buried his face in the hollow of her neck and she nearly came when he dragged his teeth roughly down her skin. When he snarled and bit her, she jerked so hard that his hold on her arms loosened and she was able to get free. There was a moment of understanding between them, a tense stir in the room as her options were agreed upon but not spoken.

Harper could have tried to push him away. She could have hit him or tried to drag herself backward and out of reach. Staring into his face, taking in his full lips that were slightly parted and damp, as though he'd been licking them, searching his eyes that were still softened by passion but edged with hunger, Harper wrapped her arms around him and dug her nails into his back.

"Why'd you stop, Kohl?" she purred. He stared at her for a long second and she knew she'd leapt another hurdle in his mind. It satisfied her in a way she knew she'd find disturbing later, when faced with the consequences of her actions. Then Kohl slipped gracefully back into motion and she had no room in her mind for later. There was only now, only the beautiful, disquieting criminal surging into her with such force that the whole bed shook.

He licked the tip of her ear and she trembled, his tongue trailing down her jaw to the underside of her chin. He forced her head back with his thumb and his chest rumbled. "That bite is going to leave a bruise," he informed her, animal satisfaction ringing clear with each word. "Your husband won't like that very much."

Harper swatted away the thoughts about Jasper. "Remember what I said about finally getting fucked?"

Kohl released his hold on her chin and she looked up at him. A bead of sweat was rolling down his nose and she moved to wipe it away but he caught her hand before she could touch him. Harper rolled her eyes and raised herself up on her elbow, licking the salty liquid from his skin. He froze, buried inside her all the way to his balls, and she felt his cock twitch against her inner walls.

"You married a man who doesn't want to sleep with you?" His tone held just enough disbelief for Harper to believe him, and again she nearly came. He watched the pleasure rolled through her and eased slowly out of her. Before she could protest Kohl threw his hips forward and filled her, slamming into her clit with so much force that she orgasmed instantly. Harper threw her arms around him, pulling him to her chest and scoring his back with her nails as the most intense climax of her life forced moan after moan from her lips.

Kohl met her thrust for thrust, breath ragged and arms straining so hard veins were popping out. "What's my name?" he demanded, nipping at her neck and shoulder with growing ferocity. When she yelled it out with blind passion he roared, balls tightening, pounding and filling her with his hot seed. The knowledge that he was coming inside her had Harper panting, another orgasm ripping her to shreds, sending her out into the abyss and bringing her back to feel his fingers plucking her nipples, his teeth nibbling the sensitive skin beneath her ear. She had no idea what she was doing or saying, only that she was afraid to come back to shore and face the truth of what had occurred.

When her body ceased its trembling and Kohl stilled, Harper floated back down to reality. She had to pry her hands from his back and expected him to roll off of her immediately and throw his clothes back on, but he did nothing. Just stayed stretched out on top of her, flaccid member still between her legs and face still buried in her hair. She had no idea what to make of it and had the curious notion that he didn't, either.