Stealing Valentine

He’s silent for a long moment, and when I look up, I shiver at the pure, raw, fierce heat blazing in his gorgeous eyes as they lock onto mine.

“No,” he growls lowly, slowly shaking his head. “No, princess.”

“Why?” I whisper. “Isn’t that what you’re after?”

“It was. Except, I found something I wasn’t expecting,” he says quietly.

“And what did you find?” I barely breathe, his lips millimeters from mine.

“Something better.”

His lips crush to mine, and the fire consumes me entirely.

Chapter 6

Dutch

She’s everything I never thought I’d ever have. She’s sweetness, and goodness, and for a life lived mostly in the darkness, being with her is like finally stepping into the light.

I learned young how to steal. How to take what wasn’t mine, and how to do it so I wouldn’t get caught. Back then, to an orphan kid trying to make it day-to-day in the system, it was about survival. It was about feeding myself, or putting money away to get myself out of the hell I lived in.

But the more I did it, and the better I got, it was about something else too. It was about the rush. Successfully pulling off a job, especially a tough one with bad odds, was like a high to me. It was addictive, and it wasn’t long before I was a full-blown junky for the game. Con jobs and pickpocketing turned into small time larceny. That turned into breaking and entering, and cars, and jewel store heists. Pretty soon, I was pulling jobs for clients from every dark corner of the world. A priceless painting in a museum that some private collector wanted to pay top dollar for. A religious artifact, a vintage car.

You name it, I stole it. And I’m fucking good at what I do.

Except, it’s worn thin. Hence, the year I was willing to sink into the Whistler job. Because this one was for me. This time, I was the client. I was the one sourcing buyers, stealing the jewels for myself, to sell for maximum profit, and then get the hell out of this game. Because even as good as I am, I know it’s not forever. Eventually, the odds play out. Eventually, no matter good you are, and how meticulously you plan, you get dealt a bad hand. And in my line of work, a wrong hand lands you in jail for the rest of your life or dead.

No thanks.

I’ve had my fun. I’ve played the game until I don’t want to play it anymore. And this is my out.

…She’s my out.

She’s the light I’ve always been looking for in this dark world, and now that I’ve found her, there’s not a force on Earth that could take her away from me.

Kissing her is heaven, and when I lose myself in those lips after making her come on my tongue, I never want to come back up for air. I could kiss her forever, and just exist here in this moment.

Slowly, I pull away though, both of us panting, eyes fierce as they blaze into each other’s.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” I growl.

She grins shyly, biting her bottom lip in that way she does that gets my pulse roaring.

“I mean I planned this for a year, you know. A fucking year. I saw every angle, modeled every outcome, played every scenario out in full. But you?” I shake my head, leaning in to kiss her slow and deep. “You break my models,” I purr into her lips. “You’re a scenario I never saw.”

She gasps quietly as I kiss her soft, pouty lips, groaning into her as I sear my kiss to her, like I never want her to forget the feel of them.

“Alright, now I have to know.”

She arches a questioning brow at me. “Know what?”

“How’d you get into the case? Getting into the house I get. You dodged security which wouldn’t be that difficult for an estate of that size. You knew the catering uniforms ahead of time, and you slipped in before the dinner started. It’s what I would’ve done. The door to the office is tricky, but if you’re good, it’s not Fort Knox security.”

My brow furrows as I peer at her.

“But the case. That case is next level security. It should have taken me at least an hour to get it open, and that’s if I was lucky. I had the security patrol schedules on lock, and you couldn’t have been in that room longer than ten minutes when I found you.”

My eyes lock on hers.

“No one’s that good,” I growl. “And anyone who is, I’d know about.”

She bites her lip again, her cheeks reddening.

“You don’t…” she frowns, pulling away and looking down. “Dutch, you don’t know… I mean.”

She swallows, dragging her eyes up to mine.

“You need to know who I—”

My phone rings from somewhere inside heap of my dinner jacket on the floor, and I grin. It’s my cover phone, the one I had as “Tom” when I was working for Cobalt Tech. I glance at the clock on the wall and roll my eyes. Jesus, fucking took them long enough. I was wondering when they’d piece together that “Tom” was missing from the party after all that.