Lace and Sin (Sinners Series Book 1) (7 page)

“Protection” I say, “Why do you sound excited about
the possibility of breaking and entering?”

“Because I am” he says simply and shrugs. I realise he
can’t essentially turn me into the police for this if he’s here with me,
because technically he’s breaking a felony too.

“Are you sure you want to do this…if we get caught,
you’ve got more to lose” I say as I stop in front of one of the office doors. I
know we won’t get caught but I still feel obligated to warn him.

“What have I got to lose?” he asks curiously.

“Uh…maybe your entire company for starters.”

“Are you chickening out?” he grins at me. How is he so
calm after finding me with a gun, driving me to break into an office, and then
actually following me to do it?

“I don’t understand you Carter. How are you so okay
with all this?”

“Because this isn’t the first time I’ve done something
like this. Now hurry up before we do get caught” he says as he slides his hands
into his pockets, and waits for my next move. Not the first time he’s done
this…what the hell? You can’t just drop a bomb like that and not explain
yourself.

“Care to elaborate?” I ask curiously, because this
isn’t the first time he’s said something like this either, and it’s a little
hard to ignore after so many times.

“Now isn’t really the time to talk about my criminal
record…which is non-existent because I’ve never been caught” he grins.

“You a criminal? Is that why you’re so keen to
help…thief helping out another thief?” I ask and quirk my brow.

“If I say yes are you going to think differently of
me?”

“Kind of…but in a good way. We’re not so different you
and I” I admit. I know there should be a hundred more questions I should be
asking him about his past, but the longer I stand here, the more I sense the
similarities between us. I push this new piece of information aside in my mind
for the next half hour, and focus on what I came here to do – but definitely
something I have to ask him more about once we’re back on the other side of
that security gate.

He gives me a small wink and turns to face the door. I
stand there looking at him for a brief minute, before finally sliding my hands
into my pocket to pull out my little tools to pick the lock.

“Your organisational skills are quite the turn on” he
smirks at me, and I can’t help but grin as I crouch down towards the door, eye
level with the lock.

“Quit distracting me Carter” I say as I stick my
tongue out in concentration. We’re quiet for all of two minutes before the lock
clicks and I turn the handle, opening the door a fraction.

“Tada!” I say and bow as if I’ve just performed some
sort of magic trick, and Carter just stands there grinning at me.

“What?” I say, now feeling stupid. He takes the few
steps between us, and practically slams into me as his lips crush against mine
hungrily. He picks me up, and I automatically wrap my legs around him as he
walks us through the door and into the dark office, kissing me so hard I’m out
of breath.

“Is there an alarm?” he asks against my lips, barely
letting me get the word ‘no’ out of my mouth, before he returns his lips to
mine and sits me on the edge of the desk. One of his hands is wrapped around
the back of my neck while the other slides up and into my hair, grabbing a
fistful which makes me groan against his mouth.

He pulls back slightly, "no cameras either?"

"No" I answer, and find myself reaching out
for him and pulling him back against me. His hips grind into mine slightly, and
a soft moan slips through my lips at the contact.

The blueprints forgotten, the felony we're committing
forgotten, all of it - right this second, all my mind seems to be registering
is that this exceptionally sexy guy has just broken into an office with me,
instead of ratting me out to the police. Someone who's supposed to be my
boss's, boss's boss just broke into the building with me to get the blueprints
I need. Will I have to explain what I'm doing? Or will he keep up this
need-to-know type relationship? It’s not like he’s going to know whose
blueprints they are.

He pulls back from my lips and takes a step back.
Taking a necessary breath as well as a look around the room we're in. I find
myself following his eye sight, taking in the filing cabinets, mahogany desk,
and framed photos of buildings hung up on the walls.

"Why are we in a realtor’s office?"

"To get blueprints, why else?" I say as I
slide off the desk and turn towards the computer. I sit down on the computer
chair and slide across the floor to get closer to the desk. I pull out the tiny
USB I have in my pocket, slide it into the computer USB slot, and then power up
the computer.

While I wait, I tap my fingers against the desk
impatiently and watch Carter walk around the office, casually inspecting the
photos on the walls as if this was a normal occurrence for him. He’s not even
bothered in the slightest way, why?

Finally the computer turns on, so I return my
attention back to it and start typing to get into the system.

“You realise a lot of blueprints can be obtained
legally right?” Carter smirks at me from across the room. His hands are in his
pockets as he continues examining the pictures, like a leisurely stroll through
an art gallery.

“Not these ones” is my only response. He takes the few
steps between us and leans down, watching what I’m doing on the screen. His
warm hand is resting against my shoulder which I’m finding kind of distracting.

I bring up the system that they design blueprints on,
and try to figure out how they keep their records. Do they sort them with
surnames, by building name, with what?

I open the USB which automatically brings up Alek’s
program. I type in a few codes that he gave me, and then stare at the black
screen as the cursor flashes at me, waiting for me to type out a search
request. I wiggle my fingers over the keyboard for a few seconds, and then look
at Carter who looks impressed by the program. After a few seconds of watching
him watch the screen, I turn my face back to the computer and type in ‘Zoloto
Manor’.

The computer starts to load the contents I requested,
and I hear a small sharp breath from Carter.

“Why are you stealing blueprints to Mikhalov's Manor,
Kayla?” Carter asks me quietly. How did he know that was Mikhalov's house? Have
I just royally fucked up…Holy shit, what am I supposed to say?

“Kayla?” he asks again, but his voice sounds gentle,
not angry like I assumed he’d be.

I don’t know what to say so I start with trivial facts
– “Do you know Zoloto means Gold in Russian?”

“I do actually” he answers as he squats down next to
me, pulling on the chair so it slides towards him. We’re now face to face, and
I can’t help but turn my gaze back towards the computer screen and away from
his eyes. I try not to concentrate on the fact that his warm palms are on my
thighs either – his thumbs rubbing small circles against my legs in a
surprisingly soothing gesture.

He reaches up with one hand and slides his finger along
my cheek, and then tugs on my chin with his fingers to make me face him again.

“What are you getting yourself into babe?”

“It’s safer if I don’t tell you.”

“You can’t pull this need-to-know bullshit on me now,
Kayla” he sighs.

“Look, I can’t tell you okay? We fucked, it was great,
and then you decided to tag along to something you shouldn’t know a single
thing about” I huff, and push myself on the chair back towards the desk.
Bitch mode alert.

He doesn’t say anything as I type away on the
computer, and sigh in relief when I find what I need.

I see from the corner of my eye when he stands up, and
makes his way out the door in total silence. Is he leaving me here? Shit, I
totally screwed up. This was a bad idea, a very bad idea.

Chapter 7

Carter

Holy Fucking shit.

I pace back and forth outside the realtor’s office,
and pull out my packet of cigarettes. I tap the box lightly and pull one out,
before lighting it and finally taking a very necessary puff.

What the actual fuck is going on?

This is far more dangerous than I could’ve ever
imagined. What does she want from Abram? Does she know how risky this is, how
much of a fucked up man he actually is?

I’ve been fighting to get away from Abram since the
day my father died, and now…now I feel like I’m going to be dragged right back
in because of…well because of her. Knowing the kind of man he is, I can’t let
her do whatever it is she’s planning on doing because she’ll lose.

He’s a sick twisted guy who won’t think twice about
shooting you in the back if he knows you’re against him, and clearly what she’s
got planned is something against him.

I followed in my dad’s footsteps and started working
for Abram Mikhalov when I was only seventeen, Jimmy at my side of course
because he was the only person I could ever trust with my life. Jimmy was born
in England but came back and forth to New York between parents, and I guess
acted out after they divorced. We started doing small things…deliveries here
and there, until we started going bigger.

We stole cars, we roughed people up when necessary,
and we did whatever he needed at the flick of a wrist because of my dad. My dad
wanted out years ago but according to Abram, he owed him his life so he kept
going, trying to find ways to take Mikhalov down. I’m not 100% sure yet but I
think he had something big on Mikhalov, something worth risking everything for.

He started acting different a couple weeks before he
died, saying things he’d never said, doing things he’d never do, and
surprisingly he left me his entire empire. Did I want it? Fuck no I didn’t want
it. But his final words to me made me think again about what needs to be done.
His final words to me were a note left on my bedside table, along with the
signed papers declaring ownership to me of his entire monarchy I knew nothing
about.

Finish what I started Carter, you’ll figure it out
piece by piece.

It’s like he knew he was going to die, like he knew I
was going to be left fighting for everything he’d worked hard for. I’ve been
getting different packages, notes, random things being sent to me from him that
he organised before he died – it’s like that P.S I love you shit, with the dead
person sending notes to help someone grieve and move on, except instead of that
it’s been clues, things he had to hide from Mikhalov and is now passing on to
me.

Strangely enough, one of the last things he said was
that help can come in any shape or form. I’m starting to think that maybe
Kayla’s that help I need to be grabbing and holding on to like a life line,
like another piece of this puzzle that he’s created for me.

First I need to figure out what she’s planning on
doing, what she wants.

Chapter 8

Kayla

I save what I need on the USB, turn off the computer,
and silently fix up the papers on the desk that we messed up with our impulsive
kissing. I walk back out through the door into the dark night, and close the
door behind me with a soft click.

“Kayla, you gotta stop whatever it is you’re planning”
Carter says from somewhere in the darkness. I take a quick look around and see
him leaning against the building, cigarette in his hand.

“Jesus Christ, Carter you fucking scared the shit out
of me. I thought you’d left.”

“Why in the world would I leave?”

“I don’t know, I figured you and Mikhalov where
buddies or something after the way you reacted when you saw what I was doing.”
He scoffs at that as if it’s the craziest thing I’ve ever said to him.

“I’m not going to rat you out. I just…he’s a dangerous
guy Kayla. Whatever it is you’re planning on doing…don’t.”

“Don’t you think I don’t know that? Don’t you think I
don’t already know what a low life piece of shit he is?” I raise my voice a
little in frustration, my anger getting the better of me.

“What’s the story here? What are you trying to do?”

“I told you before I can’t tell you…stop trying to
make this something it isn’t.”

Even in the darkness I can see him roll his eyes at
me. He stubs out his cigarette and starts to walk passed me. He grabs my hand
on the way, and starts heading back the way we came.

“So you prefer bad boy to gentleman…noted. Rough over
soft and gentle…also noted. And no deep dark secrets from the past, no
sharing…also noted.”

“What are you cataloguing me or something?”

He laughs, loudly. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever
heard him laugh so hard before.

“Shut up, someone’s going to hear you” I say - but he
doesn’t stop, in fact he laughs harder. The only thing I can think of is to
press my lips to his to shut him up, which works perfectly.

He slides his hand through my hair and yanks hard,
pulling my face up towards his. This kind of turns me on, yet makes me growl in
frustration, so I push against his chest until he steps backwards. His back
hits the wall of one of the buildings and he laughs again.

“Why does disobedience turn you on so much?” he chuckles.

“And who the hell says I’m turned on? I only kissed
you because you wouldn’t shut up, Carter.”

He reaches out, bunches the front of my hoodie in his
fist, and pulls me against him. My arms automatically reach out to his chest to
brace myself, and he slides one hand down my side and against the waist band of
my tights.

“Stop Carter” I say, but I can’t seem to stop my lips
from lifting into a small smirk. There’s seriously something wrong with me.

He slips his hand slowly down inside my tights, inside
my panties, and slides his fingers between my legs. A huge grin automatically
spreads across his face, because I just proved him right.

His grin fades slightly and he looks right at me,
right into my eyes. I want to look away, but strangely I can’t find it in me to
do that. He looks down between us where his hand is still pressed against me,
and then back up to my face. He slowly starts to move his fingers, and then
slips one finger inside me, working me, moving in a slow yet pleasurable pace.
I close my eyes for an instant, until he says my name in that soft, husky
voice.

“Kayla…Look at me.”

I bite my lip as he slips another finger inside me,
and keeps up the slow torturous pace. I also open my eyes, just like he asked.
For some reason when he’s doing this, torturing me in this most delicious and
unbearable way, I find myself doing as he asks, bending to his will. He leans
in and his lips barely brush against my cheek, his soft warm breath against my
neck.

“What are you planning, Kayla?” he whispers against my
ear, and bites down softly.

“Nothing” I barely manage to murmur as he keeps up his
slow rhythm.

“What do you want from Mikhalov?” he asks gently,
prying, trying to crack me open like a fucking safe.

He slows his movements and I snap my gaze to his,
“Don’t…” I say. I don’t even know whether I’m saying don’t because I don’t want
him asking things, or because I don’t want him to stop doing what he’s doing.
My brain is having a minor melt down right now.

He takes it as the latter, because he starts moving
his fingers again and says, “Kayla, what do you want from him?”

I moan and he presses his lips to mine to capture the
sound. He uses his free hand to grab my shoulder and spin us around,
practically slamming my back to the brick wall.

“Fuck” I groan, both with pleasure and pain.

“Good fuck or bad fuck, Kayla?” he asks, and I see his
perfect smile, his pearly white teeth almost glowing in the moonlight.

“Good…definitely good” I moan again, barely getting
the words out between my little gasps of pleasure.

“Good. Answer the question then” he says and starts to
kiss along my neck, his free hand sliding up underneath my hoodie and finally
reaching one of my breasts. He tugs on a nipple lightly until I finally say the
words, the words he’s been trying to pry out of me for the last ten minutes.

“I want vengeance” I practically growl.

***

I study him from across the table in the café,
thinking of my answer.

“Simple question babe…bath or shower?”

“Fine, shower” I answer him. He started this weird
comparing questions game, where I can only choose one or the other. After I
told him what I wanted from Mikhalov, he just dropped the entire topic, and to
say I was slightly confused was a bit of an understatement.

We jumped back over the fence, and instead of walking
back to his car he grabbed my hand and started leading me to this café. The
whole way he was asking me these trivial random questions - Pepsi or Coke, Dogs
or Cats, Day or Night.

“Ass or tits?” I ask him, grinning cheekily.

He looks down my body, or as much as he can see that
isn’t obscured by the table, and finally answers “ass” with a huge grin on his
face.

“My place or yours?” he asks, just as the waitress
walks up with a shy smile. She places our drinks in front of us, and then
shuffles away to the next table.

“Are you still asking your silly little questions, or
you asking me back to your place?”

“You decide”

“Mmm…your place then” I grin at him.

“Are you answering my silly little questions, or you
saying you want to go back to my place?”

“You decide” I mimic his answer and laugh.

He groans faintly and leans his head back against the
booth seat, all while I sit there happily downing my sugar filled drink. After
eyeing the ceiling for a second he finally drops his eyes back to mine, and
watches my lips while I play with the straw. Ugh…it’s that look right there
that has me doing anything he wants, dropping my walls and exposing things I
never would before.

I manage to finish my drink before he’s even touched
his, so he gently pushes his cup and slides it over to my side.

“Not thirsty?” I ask as I pop my straw into his cup,
and start to finish that drink too. I must be thirstier than I first thought.
He shakes his head the tiniest fraction and then stands up, pulls his wallet
out of his back pocket, and pulls out some money to leave on the table for the
waitress.

He gently grabs my hand to pull me up against his
side, and walks us out of the café, arm wrapped around my shoulder. I find
myself slightly melting against him instead of pulling myself away. To anyone
on the street we’d look like a couple walking wrapped up in one another,
consumed by each other.

“Let’s go to your place actually” he finally says as
we round the corner, and make our way towards his car.

“Why?” I ask petulantly.

“Because I want to see where you live, what you
classify as home.”

“Why?” I ask again, confused with his enthusiasm to
get to know me. I think I’m just always on the
defense
when it comes to letting people into my life. Sure we had sex couple of times today
but that’s different. I wasn’t letting him into the parts of me that are crazy
enough to scare any sane person away.

I look at his face in time to see him quirk his brow
up as he asks, “Are you always this difficult?”

“Yup” I say, popping the ‘p’ on the end of the word
like a ten year old dipshit, which just makes him laugh and shake his head a
tiny bit.

“You’re not as scary as you think. I know you think
I’ll run for the hills as soon as I know anything about you, but I won’t.”

“We’ll see” is all I say and give him a tiny forced
smile, “Is that what Alek said to you before?”

“Yeah…and that behind your outer bitch is actually a
really sweet and funny girl” he grins.

“Well thanks for that, Alek” I say sarcastically.

“I know you might want to think you’re a bitch
sometimes…but I’ve come to see you only do that when you’re hiding something or
avoiding it.”

I ignore his accurate observations, and just walk the
rest of the way in silence.

***

The keys jingle in my hands loudly, as I try to
shakily put them in the lock and open my front door. I’m nervous as all hell.
It’s like high school all over again when I took a guy home to meet Uncle
Johnny. He’d spend half the night showing off his gun collection, and start
cleaning them and putting them back together while we sat on the living room
couch awkwardly.

If that wasn’t bad enough, Alek would show up half way
through the night and brag about how I could take someone out with any ordinary
object in the vicinity, emphasizing on the time I almost broke his arm when he
used the last bit of crunchy peanut butter.

In all honesty I don’t even know whether he was trying
to make me look good in his own twisted way, or try to scare the guy off, but
after that they never wanted to come around again. That’s how I ended up losing
my virginity in a hotel room at seventeen to some college football jock, who
was surprisingly kind of sweet about it all. I guess him wanting to cuddle
after freaked me out though, so I high tailed it out of there like my ass was
on fire.

Carter wraps his warm hand over the top of mine to
still the shakiness, and I realise I’ve been standing here with the key in the
lock for far too long.

“He’s not going to shoot me is he?” he tries to joke.

I scoff a little but bite down on my lip as I shrug,
“That’s probably the better scenario.”

“What could possibly be so bad that has you freezing
at your doorstep? I just broke into an office with you to steal shit…If I’m not
running from you after that, I don’t think I’ll be running now” he says and
turns my hand that’s still wrapped around the keys.

The door unlocks and I push it open with my free hand,
then gesture for him to come inside. He takes a few steps and waits for me to
close the door, before we make our way further in.

Alek is as usual playing around with his equipment,
which right now looks like it’s blown up and scattered into a thousand pieces
all over our dining table. He looks up at us and quirks his brow when he sees
I’ve brought Carter home.

“How’d it go?” he asks casually, and reverts his gaze
back to all the wires and tiny pieces of whatever he’s fiddling with.

“Good” I answer, because that’s all that seems to want
to come out of my mouth at the moment.

“How’d Carter here take it?” he grins without lifting
his gaze.

“Good” I say again, as Carter shrugs with a grin on
his face. Not that Alek saw because he was busy twisting some wires together.