The Bandit (The Stolen Duet 1)

He spent six years of his life babysitting me. This room hadn’t been his space in all that time. There was nothing in here that would give me answers. I accepted that, but it didn’t stop me from being curious. The last time I’d been here, I was preoccupied looking for a place to hide.

I pushed open the door, and the first thing I noticed were the bare walls. There were no posters of buxom beauties or angry rock bands. The floors weren’t littered with discarded white t-shirts and sneakers. The bed wasn’t made, but I had a feeling that was because of Lucas uncovering my hiding spot weeks ago.

I laid down and found the mattress soft. The sheets smelled too clean. They didn’t hold his scent.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve pictured getting you in my bed.”

I jackknifed from his bed and found Angel’s muscular body filling the space in the doorway. His long arms were stretched over his head gripping the frame. The position put his impressive muscles on display under the white t-shirt that was damp with his sweat.

“I was looking for my son. Where did you take him?”

“I thought he might need a change of scenery.”

“You’re lying. You were making sure I couldn’t get to him. Why not just keep me locked up?”

“If that is what you wish, I can make it happen. But this time, it will be to my bed.”

I ignored the hot ache in my gut. “I told you before. I’m not getting into bed with the man who kidnapped my son.”

“So, if I gave him back to you…?”

My heart raced. “What are you saying?”

He walked inside and shut the door behind him. I held my breath as I watched him slowly turn the lock. “You used to follow me with your eyes,” he said without turning around.

“That was a long time ago.”

“Old habits die hard,” he countered. He turned and leaned against the door to watch me under lowered lids. He bit his lip, and my pussy sang a song of rejoicing.

“I don’t watch you.”

“But you want to. You’re more in control of your emotions now.”

“And?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Because it’s not so easy to take advantage of me anymore?”

I pictured hate to be cold and dark, but his burned bright and hot. “I never took advantage of you.”

“I was young—”

“So was I,” he said through clenched teeth.

“You were old enough to know better.”

“So were you.” He pushed from the door and stalked me. “Despite what you think, you weren’t innocent about what almost happened between us. You wanted it. Perhaps even more than I did,” he taunted. He was back to being cruel again. Within his eyes, I caught a glimpse of a younger Angel—the one who let his emotions rule him.

“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m over you.” He stood at the foot of the bed gazing down at me.

“I bet you won’t taste as sweet with a lie on your lips.” The way he spoke made me believe him.

“I. Don’t. Want. You.”

“Prove it.”

“H—how?” It was official… I was the masochist to his sadist.

“Pull your dress up and spread your legs. I want to see what’s not mine.”

My fingers twitched and my legs trembled to do his bidding, but I held back. “So this is how you get girls? You coerce them?”

“Only you.” He jerked his chin toward my hands which were already at the hem. I just couldn’t bring myself to follow through unless I had control.

Maybe it meant making him lose it first.

My fingers curled under and then I slowly lifted it until I couldn’t anymore. He stood as still as a statue, and if it weren’t for the heat wave coming from his body, I wouldn’t have believed he was real.

I knew what he would find once my legs were spread. My desire threatened to consume me the moment I saw him standing in the door. I knew how much he wanted me. It was time I exploited his desire.

I was willing to do anything to have my son back, and Angel was willing to give anything to have me.

“No,” he said when I started to move my thighs apart. He crawled on the bed, his shoulders bunching and rolling until he sat beside me against the headboard. “Let me.” His hand touched my knee. I braced for him to expose me and when he didn’t, I met his gaze. “May I?”

Damn him.

He didn’t ask for permission because he was a gentleman.

The son of a bitch wanted me to admit that I wanted it.

The corner of his lips tipped up when I nodded. His attention was between my legs, but I couldn’t bring myself to look anywhere but his face as he gently pushed my legs open. He was sitting so close, my knee had no choice but to fall in his lap. When he leaned forward to get a better look, I found myself inhaling the scent of his hair before I could rethink it. If he noticed, he didn’t make it known. His fingers softly and slowly skated from my knee. I tensed the closer he got to my pussy and sung the alphabet to keep from bolting.