Roxanne St. Claire - Make Her Pay

“One more. How’d you learn to steal things like you do?”

For a moment, he considered telling her the truth.

Alix taught me how to take everything that wasn’t nailed down, and I got really good at it. So good that I was one of the best thieves in the country. You name it, I’ve stolen it. Right out of your precious museums .

That’d burst her hero-worship bubble in a hurry. And cool the look of lust in her eyes, and shut that sweet little mouth he imagined kissing every time she got close.

“It’s just a talent I have,” he finally said.

She wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, moving between his thighs, her chest just below his chin as he sat and she stood. “It’s a talent that’s come in handy this week.”

“Lots of my talents have come in handy this week.” He tightened his thighs around her hips to punctuate that. “And if you don’t back off and stop looking at me like that, you’re about to find out about a few more.”

Her lips lifted in a slow smile. “Threat or promise, X?”

He was already going to be number one on her shit list when she figured out that he not only wasn’t her superagent here to save the day, but he was working for her sworn enemy. Could he make her hate him even more by taking what she was offering?

Probably. If he let his body do the thinking.

“You’re playing with fire, Lizzie.”

“Is that why I’m feeling so hot right now?”

She didn’t want to be warned. Didn’t want to be told no. Didn’t want to know the truth. “You could get burned.”

“So could you. Singed.” She hissed the last word and added the tiniest rock of her hips toward his.

He was already hard, already pulsing. “I’m asbestos, sweetheart. And you…” He snaked his hand through the blanket to her body, fingering the zipper of her hooded jacket. He dragged it slowly south, his knuckles grazing the rise of her chest on the way down. “…are not.”

“I can handle the heat,” she said, arching her back to let the blanket fall to the deck with a soft whoosh. “Like I can handle the cold.”

He clicked the zipper at the bottom, then flattened his hand on her stomach, sliding it up over her buttondown shirt. Her gaze widened as he spread his palm over her breast, the nipple budding from his touch and the chilly wind.

“Let’s just be clear, Lizzie Dare.” He popped the first button with ease. “I’m not what or who you think I am.”

She lifted one brow in an almost imperceptible nod of permission. “You don’t scare me, Con Xenakis.”

“I’m not trying to scare you.” Next button, open. “I’m undressing you.”

She smiled. “You think you’re some badass who’s going to break my heart or my spirit.”

“Never your spirit.” Third button, done. Too easy for a thief like him. “It’s unbreakable.”

She liked that, leaning closer, offering access to that last little button. “You forget I already pegged you as one of the good guys.”

He barely blew out a breath, his gaze leveled on the sweet rise of her breasts, the pale flesh pressing against a silky, lacy bra. Blood throbbed in his cock, his throat dry, his fingers itching for the touch he knew he was going to take. All he was about to take.

“Honey, you pegged me wrong.” His voice was gruff, raspy, honest.

He pulled her closer, smashing her body into his and standing slowly, his erection prodding her stomach, their gazes locked on each other’s mouth.

“I don’t think so.” Her eyes were dark with arousal, hooded with surrender. “I know exactly who you are.”

Then she was a fool.

He pushed her back on the console, pressing his hard-on against her crotch as he spread the blouse open completely.

He lowered his face to her breasts, opening his mouth over one and closing his hand over the other. He sucked, caressed, licked. Under him, her body pulsed in an instinctive rhythm, soft sounds cooing from her lips each time her hips hit his, the sound drawing him to her mouth and throat and lower to close his lips over her breasts.

She pulled him right into her, wrapping her legs around him and rolling up and down his erection.

He finally broke the kiss, pulling her to her feet before he stripped her bra off right there.

“Just know that you were warned,” he said, twisting the key to turn the engines off. “Go below. I’m going to anchor the boat here.”

She searched his face, unsure. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”

He could. He should. This was his chance to be the man she thought he was, a chance to demonstrate the code of honor that turned her on so much. A chance to do the right goddamned thing, instead of the easy, irresponsible, wrong goddamned thing.

Would he take it?

“Not a chance.”

Lizzie stripped to her bra and underpants, quaking with arousal as she rolled onto the lumpy triangular cushion shoved into the bow of the cuddy. The space was no more than a four-foot-wide envelope, barely big enough for both of them next to each other or on top of each other.

Which they were about to be.

She heard him winching the anchor in place, moving from bow to stern and back, then thudding down the three steps to the darkened cabin. She tucked into the blanket she’d brought down, wet and warm and ready for him.

He barely fit in the tiny space, depositing the backpack on the floor, his hot gaze searing her as he stripped off his jeans. She watched, mesmerized as his shaft released, stiff and dark, glistening at the top.

She wanted him to talk, to say something sweet or funny.

But he didn’t say a word as he crawled toward her.

And maybe that was better. She’d had enough of his cautions. She knew what she was doing-having sex with a man she found staggeringly attractive on every level.

Could she get hurt? Hell, yeah. A rogue wave could come up from nowhere and flip this boat, too.

Still silent, he reached down to his bag and dug in the front pocket, pulling out a foil-wrapped condom.

She couldn’t help smiling. “And you think you’re so bad.”

His gaze grew knifelike, slicing her with purpose. He started to pull down the blanket, exposing her breasts, running a finger over the lace of her bra, leaving a fiery trail in its wake. “I’m not thinking. I’m feeling.”

“Mmmm.” She bowed her back, inviting more. “Feels good.”

He took the blanket all the way down, his gaze following. As it reached her hips she wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling him closer, aching for his mouth on hers.

But he resisted. He ran a slow finger over the peak of her breast, slipping into the front snap and opening it easily, letting the silk slide away.

His jaw slackened as he admired her, thumbing one nipple gently, the touch burning and making her hips rise and fall instinctively.

“You’re beautiful,” he said softly, sending a thousand goose bumps over her.

She dragged her hand from his neck to his chest, fondling him the same way, tweaking his hardened nipple. “So are you.”

His response was a rueful smile, then he leaned in and kissed her. Lifting himself again, he shifted his attention back to her body. When his gaze lingered over her hips, she ran her finger over the lace of the pink panties, inviting him to do the same.

He covered her hand, and she pulled it away so that his palm pressed on her mound, the silk already moist. He stared at his fingers splayed from hipbone to hipbone, and her thighs spread in response to the heat in his eyes.

He kissed her mouth as he slid his hand into her panties, his fingers large and hot on her swollen flesh. She captured his tongue deep into her mouth, and rocked to tempt his fingers to do the same in her body.