Thief: A Bad Boy Romance (66 page)

A
week later
, and I’m hitting the wall. The games aren’t working, or if they are they aren’t working fast enough. Because this girl is driving me fucking
nuts
. She’s hot then cold, and for the last nine damn days, she’s been frosty and full of one word answers.

At first, the “yes chef” thing was kind of awesome; it was like winning the power game. Except now, it’s just getting annoying. Now, I just want her to say my
name
. Fuck, I mean what I
actually
want is to hear her scream it, but I’d settle for a normal conversation at this point.  I’m tempted to fuck off on the whole thing. Honestly, I need to go fuck Chloe right out of my system. I need to fuck every single thing with tits in the restaurant until whatever brief dirty fling I had with my
stepsister
is out of my head. What am I, afraid of hurting her feelings or some shit?

* * *

I
’m checking
in the meat delivery out back, sipping espresso with my clipboard in hand when she comes walking around the corner, giggling.

With fucking
Marco
.

Every muscle in my body tightens. Marco might be a mate, but I’m certainly not above burying him in a shallow fucking grave.

“Marco!” I snap, jerking his attention from the opening at the top of Chloe’s blouse to me.

“Oy chef!” He grins, nodding at me as they come up in front of me, “Shit, mate, you catch that fuckin footy game last-“

“You’re late,” I snap.

Marco frowns, and then quickly nods, shifting right into work mode.

Good man.

“Sorry, chef.”

I soften the sour look on my face, “Hey, do me a favor and get that stock going before you break down these shanks, yeah?”

“You got it, boss,” he nods. He shoots a quick look at Chloe before ducking inside.

She rolls her eyes the second the backdoor to the kitchen shuts behind him. “Oh
what
is it?”

I scowl, “Nothing, I’m just curious what
that
whole things was.”

She sighs, “He saw me coming out of the tube, we got coffee on the way over.”

I nod. “Huh, great.”

“Jesus, Oliver, are we going to play this game forever?”

“And what game is that, luv?”

“The game where we act like we’re children. The game where you don’t talk to me because I said
no
to you.”

I bark out a laugh, “Right, as if that’s what all this is.”

Of course it is
.

“Look, I told you, it’s not…”

She trails off and I grin, “It’s not…what? ‘It’s not you, it’s me’?” I snort.

“Whatever, you know what I mean. We just can’t do this,” she whispers quietly.

“I don’t see why not.”

She shoots me a look, “
Seriously?
” She shakes her head, “Oliver, I told you, it’s not like I don’t want us to be friends-“

“
I
don’t.”

She stumbles. “Excuse me?”

And right then, something inside snaps. It’s like saying it cements all the roaring, rambling thoughts I’ve had inside my head for the past week; hell, since she stepped off that fucking plane. Whatever it is, it’s like a switch being flicked, and the rest of world drops away except for her and me, standing in the raining London afternoon.

And I know right then, I’m not letting another fucking second tick by without doing something about this.

I grab her by the arm and drag her as she gasps around the corner to the alley beside the restaurant. Instantly, I’m pushing her up against the brick wall behind her, my eyes wild as my gaze burns fire right into her eyes.

“I
said
I DON’T,” I say gruffly, holding her by both her wrists against the wall. “I don’t want to be your
friend
, or your
buddy
, or your fucking
pal
, Chloe.”

And the second I say it, even
I’m
wondering what it means. What
do
I want to be with this girl?

But she throws that look right back at me; that fiery, defiant look filled with heat and power, but also this sort of scared tenderness behind it that just
slays
me. And just for a second - just for the
briefest
second - her lip trembles just a hair, as if giving testament to that scared girl behind this defiant mask of sass and attitude.

And it’s my undoing.

My mouth crashes against hers,
hard.
I push my whole body against hers as I grab her head in my hands and kiss her with everything I have; everything single thing I’ve been holding back. I’m hungry for her as I sear my lips to hers, heedless of whatever consequences this may bring.

And we’re frozen, just like that, for a single moment in time; a single second of just two people stopped in the flow of time. Just as we begin to unfreeze - just as the world is about to keep on spinning under our feet - I know she’s about to push me away, or slap me, or yell, or all three of the above, and that’ll be the end of it. After that, I’ll have my final verdict, and I’ll be done with this whole bloody thing.

Except, she doesn’t push me away, and she doesn’t slap me, or yell at me.

She fucking
moans
.

And it’s like unleashing the animal inside of me.

I growl into her kiss as we open our lips, tongues sliding against the other. Breaths come in halting gasps as we lose ourselves to each other. I’m pressing her up hard against the wall, and she’s rolling her hips against me, bringing her fucking knee up to my waists and hooking her leg around me as if to pull me even tighter against her. We break the kiss, gasping as we pull back for a second, eyes darting around the other’s and our breathing coming ragged before we go crashing right back into it.

I’m fucking
lost
in those lips; dropping out of all sense of time or space or any other fucking issue in the world. Because
nothing
else matters in that moment but those perfect, pouty lips pressed against my own.

“
Oliver,
” she gasps, pulling away for a second before pressing her lips back to mine, kissing me hungrily, “I- I-“

“I want you,” I growl, bringing my mouth to her neck and biting the skin there, hard. “I wanna bend you over right here, yank those pants down over that sweet ass, pull your panties to the side and bury my face in your pussy.”

She moans, her breath hitching and her hands clutching at my back as I rasp the words into her ears. I can feel her hips undulate against me.

“And then I want to slide every single inch of my cock inside of you, and fuck you like you
need
to be fucked,” I hiss the words into her ear, my hand coming up cup her breast through her shirt. I run my thumb across a hard nipple I can feel right through the material. “And I’m not gonna stop until I hear you screaming my name.”

She groans and cranes her neck to bite at my ear as she pulls me hard against her, “I want to know what your face looks like when you come on my cock, Chloe-“

“Oy, chef!” The backdoor opens with a bang, and it’s like lighting hitting us with crack as she suddenly jumps away from me at the sound of Marco’s voice.

“Chef?”

He can’t see us around the corner here in the alley way; not
yet.

I swear viciously under my breath, my eyes holding hers, “I-“

“
Go
,” she whispers quickly, biting her lip. There’s a teasing glimmer of a smile there, one that she’s trying to hide with that sexy little lip bite thing she does. But there’s no hiding the glow in her cheeks or the fire dancing across her eyes.

“Oy, Ollie, where the fuck did you run off to-“

“
What
, Jesus, mate,” I say quickly, stepping out from the alleyway and punching Marco in the arm. “You’re like a fuckin lost puppy or something.” He grins and I wrestle him into a headlock like we’re just two pals horsing around.

Or, you know, like I’m averting his eyes from the backdoor so that Chloe can dart out from the alley, looking
exactly
like she’s just been making out with someone. Her eyes meet mine for a quick second, and I can see her chest rising and falling quickly as she bites her bottom lip softly between her teeth, before she turns and slips into the kitchen.

“Git,” Marco shoves me off, grinning as he flips me off. “Ian needs you to look at the new menu fonts or some shit.”

I roll my eyes, “Ah, right.”

“The glamorous life at the top, eh Chef?” Marco winks before ducking back inside, leaving me to finally let my breath out and wonder how in the
fuck
I’m going to get through this shift without dragging Chloe into my office and fucking her brains out in the middle of a dinner rush.

A
nd I
do
wonder about it; the
entire
night. From the moment that first order comes through the kitchen, through the rush, and as we start to wind down, the
single thing
I can concentrate fully on is wanting to watch her face when she comes.

It’s the sound of laughter that grabs my attention as we’re closing up, finally. I jerk my head around and then narrow my eyes as I see
Marco
over at Chloe’s station, leaning against the counter with his “smooth” look on - you know, the one
I
fucking coached him on - while he flirts with Chloe.

And that right there, is what we call a breaking point, and
right then
is when I know I’m not going another Goddamn second without claiming her as mine.

I also might not go another second without punching Marco in the face if he doesn’t get the fuck away from her.

I slam the knife in my hand down hard enough for it to stick into the cutting board in front of me before I march right over to them.

“Oy, I need to speak with you.” My voice and my eyes are leveled
right
at her.

Marco shoots me a look, but I silence whatever he’s about to say with a withering look of my own and a jerk of my head, “That new waitress was looking for you, mate.”

Hey, all’s fair in love and war, or whatever.
Mate or not, this girl is
mine,
and I’m about to show her that.

He arches a brow, interested in the bait, before he grins and claps me on the shoulder as he walks away.

“
You
,” I say to her once he’s gone, feeling every nerve ending in my body buzzing like live wires and my blood roars through my veins. “Let’s go.”

She crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a look, “
Wow
, possessive much?”

“Watch me.” I grab her wrist and start to pull her out of the kitchen.

“Um,
excuse me
caveman-Oliver,” she says with a snort. “Just where the hell are you taking me?”

I grab my keys from my pocket as we stop in front of the locked door next to Ian’s little office by the coat check. I yank the door open and gesture down the old steps, “Wine cellar, now.” And then I’m pulling her after me, and she’s blushing bright red but coming willingly.

God help me, is she about to come willingly.

I pull her in, slamming the door behind us and pulling her down the stairs. She opens her mouth to say something at the bottom, but before she can even get a damn word out, I’m pressing her against the wall behind her and searing my lips across hers.

Fuck,
it’s like the sip of water I’ve been dying for all night. The balm that soothes the raw heat that’s been building inside ever since that first kiss earlier outside. She whimpers as I kiss her, opening her mouth for my tongue and bringing her hand up to cup my cheek. There’s the smell of old wood, of hanging kitchen herbs, and it’s almost like we’re back in time in some sort of farmhouse; far away from the bullshit of whatever happens upstairs and in the outside world. Far away from the maybes and the what-ifs, and the second thoughts.

Because there’s no space for that shit here. Right here and right now, it’s just her and I.

She gasps as she pulls away for a second, her face flushed and her eyes searching mine, “Oliver, I-” She shakes her head, “We shouldn’t be doing th-”

“Chloe?” I say sharply, cutting her off. “Stop fucking talking.” And this time when I kiss her, she melts into me.

I’m so fucking hard for her, so ready to take her, and I feel her hips rock and undulate against me. Our kiss turns fevered, gasping as we devour each other’s mouths. I reach between her legs, cupping her pussy through the chef-whites she’s wearing. She’s warm there and I know she’s as wet as I am raging hard.

I pull away from her, “Take off your shirt,” I say, ripping mine off.

She smirks. “Bossy much-”

“
Now
, sweetheart.”

She bites her lip, her eyes flashing at me, “You just love to tell me what to do don’t you?”

Her shirt’s still on and I step back against her, my eyes searing right into hers.

“Yeah, I
do
,” I growl. I reach between her legs and she moans as my hand slides across her mound through her pants and panties, “And you fucking
love it
when I tell you what to do.”

She gasps and slowly nods as her eyes lock on mine, her lips trembling as I slowly rub my hand between her legs and lean into her neck. “
Take of the damn shirt,
” I husk into her ear, nipping at the skin there.

She does, one tantalizing button at a time, and you would
never know
a fucking chef’s coat could look so hot coming off.

I drop my pants right there. I’m rock fucking hard, and I can’t help but grin when look up to see her just
staring
at it with her mouth slightly parted.

“Pants,” I say. She bites her lip and starts to pull them down, but I shake my head, “Turn around and do it,” I say, my voice thick with lust.

She arches a brow at me, but then she nods slowly as she turns and arches her back a little. I groan as she looks over her shoulder at me and starts to peel her kitchen pants down over the sweet curve of her ass. Her thong comes peeling off with them, slipping out from between those glorious cheeks. Chloe steps out of the pants and slowly turns, and she’s fucking
breathtaking
.

I’ve leaned back against the shelves of bottles behind me, and am just looking at her like that, I wrap my hand around my shaft and start to stroke. She’s looking at me shyly, and the look is so fucking sensual and so fucking erotic in the low light of the wine cellar that I can feel my cock pulse just looking at her.

She bites her lip, her chest rising and falling as she watches me and leans against the shelves behind her, directly opposite me with her legs slightly spread.

“Touch yourself,” I growl, my eyes meeting hers. She blinks and swallows heavily, but then she’s nodding quietly as she watches me stroke my cock. Her hand slowly slides down her stomach, down further until she’s sliding her fingers between her cleft and moaning at the contact.

I groan as I watch her fingers delve deep, and when I raise my eyes to see her eyes flutter shut and her head tilt back in ecstasy, I know I can’t even pretend to hold back anymore. I need her -
all
of her - right fucking now.

I move across the divide between us, towards her, my hand still wrapped around my cock. She moans into my mouth as I kiss her, her fingers still stroking her slit and the head of my cock trailing across her thigh as I stroke myself.

“And now, luv,” I say quietly, nipping at her bottom lip, “Now you’re gonna sit on those wine crates and spread your legs, and I’m going to lick this sweet little pussy until you come on my tongue.”

Her eyes go wide as she gasps at my words, but she does what she’s told. She’s eyeing me, hungrily and coyly as she gently pushes me away from her and brushes past me to the stack of wine crates behind me where I’ve strewn my chef’s coat. She sits, legs together as she looks up into my eyes before slowly, she spreads them wide for me.

Oh fuck yes.

I’m hotter and harder and more hungry for this than I can ever fucking remember being for any girl
ever
. I can feel my heart pounding hard enough to punch through my chest as I kneel between her legs, run my hands up her thighs, and lean in to inhale her scent.

Chloe cries out when my tongue laps against her folds, delving deep between her lips to taste her nectar. She’s honey sweet and perfect on my lips, and I drink deeply. My hands clutch her thighs, pushing her legs wide apart as I swirl my tongue around her clit.

She’s moaning as she melts under my touch, her eyes fluttering shut and her head dropping back as her hand goes to my hair, holding me tight against her pussy.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!” She’s gasping, whimpering and moaning under my tongue, and knowing that I’m going to make her come this quick fuels me on. I slide a finger against her opening, pushing it inside to curl against the spot just inside as my lips wrap around her clit.

She’s breathing faster and faster, her sweet little moans coming quicker and louder and more instantly, and when my tongue starts to flick against her clit like the staccato of her heartbeat, she
erupts
against my face.

She’s panting as I stand and grin at her; “And now, luv, I’m going to fuck that sweet pu-“

“
Not
so fast.”

I arch my brow, seeing that mischievous look in her eyes.

“Listen, bossy, now it’s my turn,” she says, her voice thick with lust and her face flushed from her orgasm.

“Excuse me?”

“Oy,” she says, her voice dramatically low and marbled with a fake English accent; “Now you’re gonna sit on those crates and spread your legs-“

“Oh, funny; right, that’s me is it?”

She grins impishly up at me.

“Luv, spread those legs so-”

“Yeah, no,” she says, standing and slinking herself against me. She reaches down and curls her fingers around my cock as she presses her lips to mine. “
Now it’s my turn to be bossy
,” she whispers into my mouth.

She pushes me then - fuckin’
pushes
me - and I’m stumbling backwards into the wine shelf. And suddenly she’s sliding to her knees in front of me as my lips spread in a grin.

Yeah, there’s a sight I’ve been fucking
dying
to see.

She looks up at me, an unearthly mix of innocence and sin as she opens her mouth, leans forward and presses her full lips against the crown of my cock. I groan as her tongue slides up the underside of my shaft, and my whole world starts to melt around me. When her lips wrap around my head, it’s like heaven, and when she slides as much of me as she can inside her hot little mouth and teases the underside with her tongue, I’m seeing fucking stars.

Chloe wraps one hand around my shaft and starts to tease my balls with the fingertips of the other. And I’m groaning as she starts to slide her mouth up and down my cock. I grunt and slide my hands into her hair. She moans at my direction, and I groan,
loving
that she likes me dominating her a little like this.

Her mouth is utter fucking bliss, and I know I could explode in a second if she keeps this up. But fuck, I need her. As much as I want to fill her sweet mouth with my cum, I need to feel her come around me as I fill her with my cock.

I gently pull her off my cock and pull her up to kiss her deeply. I’m spinning us around, pushing her back against the wine rack as I yank her leg up to my hip. She whimpers as I rub my cock again her clit, kissing me fiercely and clutching at my back with her fingers. My cock slides down to nestle wetly against her slick entrance, and she looks up at me briefly, a questioning look on her face.

“I want you bare and wet on my cock, sweetheart,” I growl into her ear; “I want to feel you come without anything between us.” She’s biting her lip and undulating her hips. She wants this as much as I do, but I know she’s holding back, and she’s got every right to.

“Oliver-”

“I’ve never
not
used one, luv,” I say quietly, pressing my lips to hers and breathing in the scent of her hair. I pull back and level my eyes at her, “Do you trust me?”

The question means
infinitely
more than just what it says on the surface, and we both know it. But it all hangs on her answer; all of it.

Her hands slide up to the back of my head, and she pulls me close as her lips brush tantalizingly against my ear. “I want you to fuck me hard and fuck me bare,” she husks into my ear as she reaches down and strokes my cock against her opening. “And I want to feel it when you fill me with every drop.”

I groan as she pulls me against her opening, slowly rocking her hips forward so that the head slips just inside.

“
Yes
, Oliver,” she says, gasping slightly as she stretches around me, “
Yes, I trust you.
”

I growl as I push in, and she cries out as I drive deep inside of her until every inch of me is buried in her heat. She’s so fucking hot, and impossibly tight like a glove, and I feel her milking me as I fight to hang onto my sanity.