Kat and Mouse (6 page)

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Authors: Lexxie Couper

BOOK: Kat and Mouse
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Her eyes fell on her bed and she stumbled to a halt.

The latex cat costume still held pride of place on the massive piece of furniture, the golden box containing the mask and the invitation to The Big Man’ ball beside it. That wasn’t what grabbed her attention, though. That wasn’t what made her mouth dry and her pulse leap into furious flight.

At some stage, whether while she was getting familiar with Los Magia during the day or washing away the conflict and confusion and turmoil in the shower just then, someone had been in her suite. Someone who added a new item to the costume on the bed.

A cat’s collar. Black suede, studded with what she knew without checking, were diamonds. Thirteen of them. A black suede diamond-studded cat’s collar, complete with long leather leash.

No card. Just the cat’s collar.

Katrina clenched her fist on the towel, staring at the bed.

Gun or not, she was going to kill him.

Whoever
he
was.

 

***

 

Flynn held her wrists, holding them behind her in a grip both inescapable and powerful. “Why did you come here?”

The feel of his body pressed to hers made her pussy flood with cream. His cock, ram-rod straight and harder than steel, ground against her arse, burning her flesh like a brand even through the cotton of her shorts. “To see you,” she answered, her normally confident voice just a whisper.

“To see me or to be fucked by me?”

Both.

She wanted to say the word, but it refused to pass her lips. Instead, she tried to pull away from his hold. “Let me go.”

“Tell me.” he demanded, jerking on her wrists.

Her shoulders ached a little, a slight burn that made her feel alive. Her life had been about playing it safe, never taking risks, but everything about Flynn Marsters was a risk. An addictive risk…

“Tell me.”

“Both.”

One hand left her wrists and reached around her body, closing over her left breast with a possessive arrogance. She whimpered, a pitiful sound that seemed louder than a gun shot. “I told you never to come here.”

The growled statement made her skin tingle. Her nipples pinched harder, straining against the material of her bra and t-shirt. How could she
not
come to him? When he made her feel so… so…

Wanted?

Was that it? Was that the attraction? The desperate longings of a lonely child of affluent parents who didn’t know how to stop working? Who sent her to boarding school the moment she could spell her name?

Or was it more?

Dangerous.

Love.

His hand left her breast, fingers tickling the lines of her ribcage as he explored a line down to her waist. With an ease both disturbing and thrilling he slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt, pressing his palm to her bare skin.

She gasped and arced her spine, pressing her arse harder to his rigid shaft.

“Is this why you disobeyed me? To have me touch you?”

 She didn’t answer.

He skimmed his hand up the curve of her ribcage, capturing her breast once again. Her nipples puckered into painful tips of want, rubbing against the material of her bra, pushing his palm with an urgency that sent hot ribbons of shame and hunger into her being.

“This isn’t a game, Katrina.” The growl in her ear made her shiver. “If you’re here to be fucked, tell me.”

“I’m here to be fucked.”

The hands on her body grew brutal and she whimpered again, eyelids fluttering close, pussy pooling with wet rapture.

“By who?”

Her sex constricted. Her knickers grew damp. Anger flared in her chest. Anger at herself. At him. “By you, Flynn. Only you.”

Without warning, he curled his fingers around the edge of her bra and ripped it aside, claiming her breast with a force that made her cry out. “Tell me again.” He pinched her nipple, rolling the nub of flesh between thumb and finger even as he tightened his grip on her wrists. “Tell me what you want me to do to you. I want to hear it from your lips.”

She bucked against him, molten lust pouring into her sex. His strength overwhelmed her, stole her breath.

Just a lonely rich girl longing for danger

She still remembered his almost inaudible words after the first time they’d kissed, uttered with deep rancour. Who he was bitter with she didn’t know, but she couldn’t stay away. And he didn’t want her to. She could tell. In the gentle way he brushed the hair from her face after he’d taken her on the bed, against the wall. In the softness in his eyes as he studied her, post-coitus, his fingers trailing over her body in a delicate exploration, as if he’d never seen something so precious. He was an enigma, a contradiction she wanted to solve. An addiction she didn’t want to do without.

God, did she love him?

Arrogant fingers flicked her nipple and the thought vanished, replaced by a wave of wild heat that poured into her very core. She writhed against him and he bit her neck, his teeth and tongue torturing her skin. She cried out, bucking in his hold. The action drove his cock harder to her arse, its insistent length setting her blood on fire.

Teeth nipped at her earlobe, sending shards of exquisite pain through her body. “Tell me.”

“I want
you
to touch me. To fuck me.”

The hand on her wrist tugged, bowing her backward, thrusting her breasts forward. “How?”

She sucked in a ragged breath, pulse pounding. “Hard.”

He squeezed her breast, his knuckles razing her aching, eager nipple. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it, Kat. Don’t play with me like I’m a—”


toy
.

The disembodied word floated through Katrina’s sleep-clouded brain like a ghostly whisper. She opened her eyes, staring about herself, completely confused.

Where was she?

A massive painting of a wild cat, a lynx, stared down at her from the wall above her head and it came back to her in a rush. Los Magia. Abaddon. The Mouse.

And another memory

Dragging her hands through her hair, she dropped her head. When had she fallen asleep? Hell, when had she even sat on the bed.

When you discovered the cat’s collar
.

She snapped straight, staring at the latex costume still stretched out on display, albeit a little tussled now, beside her on the bed. Nothing new had arrived while she slept. No sudden appearance of a bottle of catnip or tray of kitty-litter.

Rubbing at her face she turned to the suite’s far window. Sunlight flooded the room, painting everything with a golden glow. She squinted at it, feeling more fuzzy and jet-lagged than ever. God, how long had she been asleep for?

A quick glance at her watch gave her the answer. Five hours. Five hours sleep in the last forty-eight. She suppressed a groan. No wonder she was having disturbing dreams. Sleep deprivation was a legitimate psychological tor—

Blackjack tomorrow. 6am. Or has the Kat become a chicken
?

The Mouse’s arrogant note flashed through her head and she leapt to her feet. 6am. Damn. It was already 5:45.

 

***

 

The Mouse watched her move through the busy casino. Noticed how her eyes searched the crowded room like a predator hunting. She had no idea who she was looking for, but still she looked.

A darkly arousing sensation unfurled in the pit of his gut. Considering she had no idea who he was, considering she was only going on what he’d left for her at every crime scene, at the end of every teasing trail of false clues, she knew him better than anyone alive. He allowed himself a smile, hiding it behind a glass of whisky. He never drank this early in the morning, but today was an exception. Today he needed the alcohol to linger on his breath, his lips.

How long does the game continue
?

He didn’t have an answer. It all depended on Abaddon, who so far had failed to make an appearance. But as soon as the transaction was made, as soon as the three million credits was in his account…

Are you really going to end it
?

He followed Katrina as she threaded her way through laughing tourists, her clear, direct pale green eyes focussing on each face, as if cataloguing it for later reference.

His stomach churned and his groin tightened.

Yes. He was. She was getting too close to catching him and he wanted to end his criminal career a free man, not in Australia’s toughest prison.

And that’s the only reason
?

He ground his teeth, ignoring the question, watching Katrina make her way to a Blackjack table and perch herself on a stool instead. Damn, she had great legs. Long, toned and delightful. A grin pulled at his mouth as, for the first time since spotting her enter the gaming area, he really noticed what she was wearing. Trust Australian Federal Police Officer Katrina O’Lauchlan to wear denim shorts, a fitting baby-pink Billabong t-shirt and sneakers to a casino.

Pulling in a steadying breath, he began to cross the busy floor. He was about to gamble with his life.

God hope Lady Luck favoured jewel thieves.

 

***

 

“Is this seat taken,
mademoiselle
?”

Katrina swung her head to the left, giving the tall man standing beside her a sharp look.

Intent black eyes gazed back at her, unreadable and enigmatic at once. Glossy dark, dark brown hair was cropped close to his scalp—a rough, choppy, sexy mess that subtly spoke of enough wealth not to care, an impression furthered more by the black silk Ralph Lauren polo shirt hugging an impressive torso. A tingle began in the base of Katrina’s spine and she stared at him. He was familiar. But why?

The Mouse
?

“It is a beautiful morning, no?” he continued in an accent as enigmatic as his eyes.
European? South African
? He slid onto the stool beside her as if she had answered his question, the midnight gaze roaming her face. A very smooth smile stretched lips entirely too sexy. “But then, the beauty of the day is pale when compared to the beauty I see before me.”

Katrina cocked an eyebrow, fingering her chips. The tingle in her spine grew stronger, even as she digested the lack of an Australian accent. The Mouse was definitely Australian, but then, an accent could be faked. She resisted the urge to gnaw on her bottom lip, instead casting him a level look.
Is he familiar? Maybe
… “Tell me, sir? Do you write your own material?”

Dark eyebrows shot up. “Aah, you are Australian, no?” he flicked a quick glance to the waiting Blackjack dealer, giving the man a wide grin. “I come from the Land Down Under,” he sang in a deep baritone that made Katrina’s tingle turn into a teasing tickle and her nipples pinch tight. “Where women blow and men thunder… The land of deadly snakes and spiders and many things which bite.” He slid his room card through the electronic data access slot, activating his table credit. “Deal me in.”

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