Page 123 of Tempting Little Thief

“So what you’re saying is it might hurt?” she teases, but before I can respond, the jet is aimed at me, and she doesn’t go easy, spraying in a long, hard, steady stream. A full fucking blast.

I drop to my stomach on the wet ground, drenching her legs from under the car and she hops on the hood, heels and all, tugging herself forward, and when I look up, her smiling, wet face is right above me.

“First rule of combat, recognize your opponent’s strengths and weaknesses and spoiler alert … I don’t have any.” She blasts me in the mouth, and I run away, laughing as the water beats against my skull, and drop my water weapon.

I jump up, spinning, and stretch beyond her, tugging the end of the hose that’s buried beneath her body. It spins her, and she yelps, trying to hold on, but the slippery surface won’t allow it, so she flips onto her back, nozzle pointed my way in a playful warning.

But I tug on her ankle, drawing her closer, and pry it from her grip. She slips forward, catching herself with her hands on my shoulders as she laughs, long and loud, her head falling back and I wrap my arms around her lower back, her heels propped up on the tire.

My eyes are glued to the girl, fucking fused to her, and slowly, her laughter fades as she looks up, a few straggling chuckles following.

She licks her lips with a smile, her hands grabbing on to my soaked jacket for a loose hold.

Her hair’s a sloppy mess. Gone are the perfectly laid waves and little bits of black are smeared beneath her eyes. Her uniform is dripping and sticking to her skin, one knee-high sock halfway down, while the other holds strong. Silky wet strands stick to her cheek and lips, but she doesn’t seem to mind, if she even notices them at all.

Like me, her entire attention is focused on the person in front of her, on me, and it’s a new kind of fucking feeling, one that leaves me with a primal pull toward her, but the tug comes from deep in my chest.

My head tips slightly, left hand coming up so my knuckle can push her blonde hair from her face and forehead, curving along her temple until I can tuck the small tangles behind her ear, the pad of my thumb blindly brushing over the shiny diamond sittin’ pretty there.

My touch travels down her jawline, skating lightly along her skin. My eyes find her lips, and I trace the fullness of them before sinking my hand deep in her hair. My need for her is insatiable. Been that way since the first day, as dumb as that sounds.

“Such a pretty little thief … stealing my time, my thoughts … my fantasies …”

She tugs me closer, eyes changing shade, the green deepening, wild and anxious, a little heavy, like a tropical rainstorm.

“Pretty, hmm?” she rasps just to have something to say.

My full attention, without the playfulness she loves, is too much for her right now ’cause my little gold medal diver didn’t choose to make this move. She didn’t climb a ladder prepared to send herself sailing down. No, my girl didn’t have a say, and here she is, free-falling right into my filthy fucking arms.

Into that black, torn organ I’m shocked still beats in my chest.

“Beautiful. Gorgeous. Fucking stunning.”

Look at that, a blush …

“Compared to what?” Her arms loop around my middle, head dipped back to keep those eyes on mine.

“Nothing,” I answer instantly. “No one. You’re in a league of your own, ma. A fucking beacon, bright and blinding, and mine.”

She pinches her lips together to keep from smiling, but it breaks free regardless.

I lean forward, forcing her to drop back against the soapy hood. “You mine, baby?”

My lips hover over hers, her palms sliding under my shirt. “It doesn’t seem I have a choice.”

“You don’t.”

Her eyes flick back and forth between my own, and slowly, she nods.

“Say it.”

Her tongue comes out to play, flicking my lip ring before tugging it between her lips for a sweet little tug and releasing it with a slow pop. “Yes, Bastian. I am yours.”

“Good,” I whisper. “Now show me.”

Her eyes bulge, desire flares with her surprise, her need, and like I thought she might, she morphs right before me. The wildfire in her gaze, now a pot of molten lava that must be stirred, the possessive grip around my body nothing more than a feeble feathering touch, and then those teeth sink into her puffy bottom lip.

My girl waits for instruction. Waits to be bossed around by her favorite dictator.

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