Stolen: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (Heists & Hearts Book 1) (3 page)

The two glance at each other and then walk off without saying anything else. I turn and walk to the entryway. I take a seat in one of the plastic folding chairs. 

And wait. 

JILL

I take an absurdly long shower. As usual, I’m the only woman in the gym, so I’m thankfully alone. The hot water does wonders, and slowly my embarrassment fades and is replaced by the image of the stranger from the night before, standing without a shirt and his shorts hiding very little. As the water streams down my body, I have trouble stopping from touching myself while thinking of him. I haven’t felt so full of raw desire in ages. 

I look up at the nozzle of the shower, hoping my sexual frustration will get overwhelmed by hot water stinging my face. It doesn’t. 

It is late, but Sal, the manager, gives all the night owls a key. Last one out locks the door. I am often the last one in the gym, so I turn out the lights and straighten things up for Sal, which he appreciates. Tonight, however, I just want to go home and forget everything. I am mad. I am horny. I am upset over being harassed. I am upset over yearning for a man I can never have. 

I snap the gym lights off, and walk into the entryway. I’m not paying attention, and I’m halfway to the door before I realize a man is sitting in one of the plastic folding chairs that line the small room. I jump back and would have reached for my firearm if I had been in uniform. My heart is beating hard when I finally got a good look him.

It is the sexy stranger.

“You know, you handled that all wrong.”

“Wha… I… Why…” I stammer, completely flustered. He has a t-shirt on, but otherwise looks exactly the same as the night before. The same incredibly hot chiseled guy I know is out of my league.

“You have to stop replying with ‘fuck you.’ Eighth graders say that.” He stands up, and his eyes are intense as he stares at me. “When they joked about your chest, you should have said something like, ‘I know you want to see them, but that ain’t happening.’” 

“But—” He completely ignores my interruption.

“And when he grabbed you, you should have talked about how that’s the only way he’ll ever touch a woman. Play into his insecurities.” 

Everything the man says rings true, but he doesn’t understand how hard it is being me. “It’s not that easy,” I reply.

“Sure it is. You just need to be confident.” He walks over to me, and I can’t help but stare. “The winner of every confrontation like that is the one that knows how to exploit the insecurities of the other side.” He is close enough to me that I can smell him. “So— What are those two assholes afraid of?”

“Um… ” I freeze, completely uncertain how to reply. I look at him, and he has that same look on his face, like he’s mad at me. “I don’t know!” I finally reply in frustration.

His face softens as he runs a hand through his hair. “Just remember that whenever they attack you, it is an attempt to cover up their own weakness. They insulted you for being a rookie. That means they are insecure about their own position. Next time say something like, ‘How’s the meter maid beat? Did you remember to wear your bulletproof vest in case someone gets mad over being twenty cents short on their parking?’”

I smile. His comment really is perfect. Cody and Parsons would go crazy if I joked about them being on a lame beat. “That’s good,” I say while I nod my head.

“And they’re insulting your body because they’re assholes and can’t get laid. So let them know that.” He smiles and adds, “but be more creative.”

He is standing there, the anger gone from his face. He is smiling but still looks a little formal or cold. I feel so awkward around him, and the fact that he is waiting for me to say anything just makes it worse. I stick out my hand. “My name’s Jill.”

“Jill Benson,” he states, shaking my hand with a firm grip. I realize how completely absurd it is that I offered him my hand. He had fucked me on a weight bench the night before, and now I was shaking his hand? I want to crawl away. 

“Yeah,” I answer, thinking of how Cody and Parsons had already revealed my last name.

The man stares at me long enough that I find it rude and a little uncomfortable. As I glance up at him I see indecision in his eyes, as if he is debating what to say. 
 
Finally, he turns away, and my heart skips a beat as I feel devastation envelop me. I introduced myself, and the handsome stranger with the sexy body is leaving without saying anything. Who could blame him after I shook his freakin’ hand?

He reaches down and grabs a bag from the floor next to the chair where he was sitting. He turns back to me, unzips the bag, and reaches inside. That’s when a surge of relief flows through me—he isn’t leaving. He is looking for something.

He pulls out a card and hands it to me. “Call me.” He says the words as a simple statement, but the commanding nature of his voice make it clear—it isn’t a request. I’m full of questions, but before I can ask one he has turned and is already striding toward the door. 

I slide the card into my gym bag, not even looking at it. I’m already tingling as I think of being together with him again, but there are tons of alarms screaming in my brain. He never introduced himself. He left in a hurry, just like he did the night before. He helped me, but he seemed angry that he had to explain how to handle bullies, and his attitude as he did so was kind of insulting. Also, he just sat there and watched. He could have at least said something to Cody and Parsons. 

As much as I want to fuck the man again, I am tired of assholes, and the jury is still out on this guy. Maybe I’ll look at his card and call him the next day. 

Maybe I won’t.

DIRK

I leave before I do something stupid. As she stood there uncertain and tentative I wanted to just kiss her hard and then rip her clothes off. What is killing me is that the same reason I want fuck her is the reason I should stay away from her—She’s all “fuck me harder” on the inside, but to get to that I have to get past her innocent and sensitive outside. 

Maybe that’s why I gave her my business card. She’ll be able to find out who I am. She’ll see the news items, the photos, the history. Then it’s entirely up to her. If she follows me to a place she shouldn’t go is that then my fault?

I climb into my Tesla, wondering if she’ll call me.

JILL

It’s two days later, and I haven’t thought much about the hot stranger and our one night stand. It’s not that I’ve forgotten him. In many ways it’s worse. At night when I finally can relax I think about how I’d like to see him and feel him again, how I want to believe the fantasy of passion leading to a long romance. 

Thankfully, I’ve been extremely busy with learning a new beat after being transferred to a new partner. This happens regularly with rookies, as you are moved to various neighborhoods to get a sense of the city and what is needed. Whenever that happens you kind of hope that you won’t be paired with an asshole, but you never know. 

The previous cop I was with was chill, so I’m hoping that Dan, my new partner, will be just as laid back as my previous one. He’s assigned a pretty dangerous section of the city, so while Dan isn’t an asshole, he is incredibly nervous about me, almost protective. 

Dan treating me like a child is annoying, but it at least keeps my mind off the business card sitting in a drawer back in my apartment. I still haven’t looked at it, and the stranger hasn’t shown up at the Dumbbell since he handed it to me. I’m torn. I want to call him. I want to know what it’s like to have his cock in my mouth. I want him under me as I ride him, with me running my hands over his six pack while I watch his gorgeous face twist in pleasure. I’ve already masturbated twice about how the moment could go. And, if I’m honest, I fantasize about romantic dates leading to those hot moments. 

Those romantic moments are what fill me with uncertainty. I’m not sure I’m up to be some arrogant prick’s booty call, as incredible as it may be to experience. The fact he doesn’t show up at the gym at least clarifies things for me—he’s done chasing me. He expects me to grovel back to him in a way that will put me in my place.

But then Sergeant Groban calls me into his office.

DIRK

Look, I’m an asshole. It’s unavoidable when you specialize in turning around distressed companies. Someone had to be the asshole, and that is me. I don’t particularly enjoy being the asshole, and I do my best to treat the people I lay off or force into retirement with respect. I like to think I bring some humanity to the way I deliver the message. But, in the end, I will always be the asshole.

So don’t be surprised by what I am planning. Sometimes when I want someone, and I can’t convince her that what I want is what she wants, well, I have to push a little.

JILL

I had never been in Sergeant Groban’s office. When he does morning roll call and assignments, I sit way in the back and keep my mouth shut and my head down. I am there to learn and do what I am told. Even my partner assignments are done via a bulletin board post. So as I walk I’m wondering if I am in trouble. Did I piss off Dan somehow?

“Jill, please sit down.” Groban is smiling, so I relax a bit, but I’m still nervous as to why he would call me in. None of the other rookies had a similar call. I sit down. “Things going well?” 

He leans forward and places his hands on his desk. He is big and overweight, and has the buzz cut and mustache that only seem to work on an old cop. I suppress a smile. Even without a uniform everyone would immediately peg him as a cop.

“Yes, sir. My partners have all been amazing. I’m learning so much!” I kick myself over my enthusiasm. I should show a bit more cynicism, the kind you expect from an experienced cop in the streets.

“Good.” He drums his fingers on his desk. “So have any of them explained off-duty work to you?” Off-duty work was extra money you could earn by doing things like security at a bank or department store while in uniform. I had heard it could be lucrative—effectively doubling your salary—but no one had really gone into detail with me about it. 

“I know the basics, but to be honest, sir, I don’t know the department policy.” Groban is looking at me, and I quickly add, “But I wasn’t planning on doing any extra work until I was no longer a rookie.”

“Got it.” He nods. “Okay, two things. The first is that the department policy is that what you do on your own time and how much you make is your own business. However, you are still a representative of the force, so you need to behave as if you were on-duty.”

“Understood, sir. I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“The second is more personal.” Groban peered at me. “How do you know Dirk St. James?”

St. James. I had heard the name before. He was like an asshole investment banker that looted weak companies. He would buy a bunch of stock, lay everybody off, and then sell the assets. In fact, that was about the extent of my knowledge: One of the richest guys in Dallas and one of the biggest assholes.

“I’m afraid I don’t know him, sir.”

Leaning back, Groban scratches his chin. “Is that so? Well, he had one of his people call the mayor asking about you. And the mayor called the chief. And the chief called the captain. And guess who the captain called?”

“You?”

“Yes, Benson. The captain called me.” The pleasant demeanor is gone. Groban is all business. “So, do you want to re-think your reply? How do you know Dirk St. James?”

“Honestly, sir, I don’t know him. I don’t even know what he looks like. I just know he’s a rich investment banker or something.”

Groban stares at me, but I keep quiet. I don’t know what to say. There’s nothing I can say. Finally, he sighs and says, “Well, he knows you somehow, and he wants you to do some investigative work for him. Which leads me to a warning.”

“A warning, sir?”

Nodding his head, Groban replies, “Yeah, this whole situation sounds unseemly. I believe you that you don’t know St. James, but he has interest in you doing investigative off-duty work, and—no offense, Benson—you aren’t remotely the first person anyone would ask to do private investigative work. Hell, you aren’t even the hundredth person anyone would ask. So I think he is interested in you for 
other
 reasons.”

Groban emphasized the word ‘other,’ not at all hiding his belief that St. James wants me for some kind of physical favor in return for hiring me to do off-duty work. Why anyone would think that is beyond me. “I appreciate your warning that I should be wary of ulterior motives, which is one of the reasons I’m not even sure I should accept the work, sir. As I said, I wasn’t planning on doing any off-duty work until I’m well past being a rookie.”

“Oh, you will accept the work, Benson. I’m not going to have the captain, the chief, and then the mayor hear that you aren’t taking the work. They are going to hear that you gladly accepted this generous offer and that you will be a complete professional. Do you understand?”

I nod, but the whole situation has me worried. Why would this St. James guy want to hire me, of all people?

Sergeant Groban gives me a phone number for St. James’ office and dismisses me. I shove the number in my pocket. I’ll call it later, but first I want to find out more about St. James. As soon as I’m out of Groban’s office I do a search on my phone, and the first photo I see stops me cold. It is the sexy stranger who fucked me in the gym. I quickly scroll through the photos, and there is no doubt—it is him.

I see dozens of photos of him with gorgeous models. He has his hand on the ass of one fitness model whose waist is possibly the size of my thigh. Not one of the women in the photos look like me, and I start to tense. How could he possibly be interested in me when he has his pick of supermodels with killer bodies?

Shaking my head I move to the news articles. There are lots of stories about him buying positions in companies and then gutting them before selling them at a profit. My initial assessment of him being an asshole appears to be confirmed.

Dirk St. James. I can’t really grasp his wealth and what it means to me. That he has just strong-armed me into calling him also confuses me. On the one hand I’m pissed. The rich bastard used his connections to disrupt my life just to get me to do what he wanted. On the other hand, he wants me. That’s… kind of exciting.