Page 47 of Brazen Deceits

His nose presses against my forehead, his thumb stroking my cheek over and over. “Not one of us ended up here thinking it was easy street, Clara. All of us have reasons we started doing what we’re doing. And only you can decide if this is the road you want to travel, if we all fit into your life. We are who we are, and we’re damn good at what we do. None of us are going to walk away from this life. You have to figure out if you’re okay with that.”

I nod, my chin rubbing against his chest. “I know. Thanks for sharing, Jansen. Really.” I look up at him, confused and touched. So much to think about. I clear my throat, trying to break the tension before I burst into tears.

No more tears.

I need teasing Jansen back. Otherwise, I’m going to bawl over the loss of this perfect guy’s childhood.

I shift, trying to work out how to fix the mood. After a beat, I pout up at him. “Even after all that, I have no idea what skills I bring to the table.”

He adjusts me so I’m straddling him, framing my face with his hands, a hint of relief on his face. “I don’t know what you’ll grow into, but I can tell you which strengths of yours we can use. Do you want to know?”

“Am I just a tool to you?” I walk my fingers up his chest, wanting to see him smile.

He snags my fingers and nips the tips. “Nah, beautiful, you get to use my tool, not be one.” He grinds his hips up under me, and I feel him getting hard. “But you asked for a rundown of your criminally excellent traits.”

I laugh, and he pulls me down, kissing me fully on the lips. Thank God. “Tell me where I’d excel at breaking the law,” I say.

“Well, the obvious, easiest thing we could use is your smoking-hot self. A little smile, a slow walk away, and you could get secrets out of almost any man you came up against, and plenty of women.”

I punch him gently on the arm. “Seriously? You’re talking about me like I’m a piece of prime rib in front of a pack of dogs. I’m not bad looking or anything, but I’m not all that.”

He grips my ass, squeezing, and I shift forward, grinding against him. “If you say so. But I know that’s what Trips is thinking for you, that you’d make an excellent face man. Between you and Walker, we could collect all kinds of information we shouldn’t technically have. Want another one?”

I laugh, happy to play along. “Sure. Hit me.”

He taps my forehead. “This. The whole dang thing. You watch people, Clara, you read them. That’s a perfect skill. Put you in a room and you’ll map out power dynamics, strengths, weaknesses, the whole social system figured out in less than ten minutes.”

“Everyone can do that, Jansen.”

He shakes his head. “No, Clara. They can’t. Not like you do. You’re a social systems sponge.”

I’m not a sponge—gross. “So far, you’ve told me I’m hot and good at listening. These aren’t the markers of a super criminal, Jansen.”

He smirks, hands on my hips, encouraging me to grind against him again, both of us moaning at the friction. “That’s the funny thing—they’re just traits. It’s how you use them that matters. I’m quick, light on my feet, strong for my size, andI don’t panic easily. I could use that for a ton of things, but they’re great traits for a cat burglar.”

“I like to think of you as a panther,” I admit.

He runs his hands up under my shirt. “I don’t mind that one bit. Do you want to hear the last trait I think will fit here with us?”

Breathless as his fingers slip around my nipples under my bra, I squeak out, “Yes, please.”

“You plan. You ask good questions. And you learn super fast.”

“What’s that good for?”

A small smile creases his cheek, one hand slipping under my waistband, his long fingers gripping the bare skin of my ass. “You’re going to have to figure that out for yourself, beautiful. I’m not giving you all the answers. Not yet. And admit it—you hate it when the answers are just laid out in front of you.”

I sigh. “You might be onto something, but I’m not happy about it.”

He laughs, and we kiss, soft, playful, easy in a way I didn’t know I needed. Everything else has been so hard, but this? This makes sense. Sliding my hands under his shirt, running my fingers over the ridges of his abs, I relax into his touch, his scent, the joyful energy that radiates from him. “Mmm, we should probably change locations,” I say.

“Why?” he asks, nipping my neck.

I give him a play shove. “We’re on the couch in the living room. It would be super rude to fuck here.”

He huffs a laugh against my neck, the warm air initiating a cascade of goosebumps down my shoulder. “Everyone herewould enjoy the show. Might even get one or two to join in. Could do a couple of uptight fools some good.”

I nip his neck back, a little harder than necessary, and he jerks underneath me. “Maybe true, but still rude.”

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