The Heist (12 page)

“How sweet it is to love you. Why have we denied each other for so long?” he asked. Her eyes flew open. Was he serious? He made sure he remained the aloof calculating bastard that she loved to hate. How ironic now when she despised him the most, he was in her arms. He rocked in and out of her. It was indeed sweet torture. Everything from his touch to the scent of their mingled sex, down to the warm, moist breaths against her neck escaping him in gentle puffs of air each time he sank deep.

Something profound happened to her in the most unexpected way. Michelle knew it. She felt at peace with who she was with Lee. She was a diamond smuggler’s daughter, a hustler herself; she was his equal and didn’t have to pretend at normalcy. She was so complete with him possessing her slowly and meticulously—it scared her. It hurt. Her pride, her sense of belonging, her under-nurtured heart, which had belonged to him since she was sixteen, was bruised. And yet, she was in his arms, and she wept because it was the first time she truly belonged. To this man, who cared for nothing, who kidnapped her sister and blackmailed her. His loving her hurt her beyond belief.

People like herself and Lee didn’t fall in love. It was sex, she reasoned. The exquisite sensations of their writhing bodies and his darting tongue swept her up into a kiss as momentum built. Whatever it was, she craved more. Much more. Her hips rocked off the mattress to meet him after a long withdrawal, welcoming his powerful thrusts, seeking, needing, wanting. “Oh Lee, don’t stop, please....”

He pumped his way in and out. A delicious feeling began to throb within her.
This is just sex, that’s it. I’m not falling for him. I’m not
. Michelle gasped. It was as if nerve endings attached to her feminine core were radiating to the point of overload. And he didn’t stop. His dick pounded at her, penetration a continual swirl of thickness that could not be denied. Soon she was convulsing and shuddering as her body went wild from the currents of his passionate strikes. He wasn’t stopping, even when she begged him in a stream of emotional pleas for mercy. Even when it was so intense, she thought he’d shred her heart because her love for his touch was too strong.

He pinned her legs back and open. His mouth covered hers in a claiming kiss, his tongue thrusting like his dick. She reveled in the carnality of his kiss, in the heated eroticism of his tongue and cock both moving in and out of her.

Making love to Lee was all consuming.

He stilled. Her breath caught at the sudden stop of movement, shocked to the core. He kissed her again. Soft, comforting kisses that reassured her better than any words he could have spoken. His body trembled from the strain of not continuing to ravage her and yet his kisses held only patient reassurance. He struggled as she did with the shared emotions they both denied. She loved him so much in that brief moment she felt it would come from her mouth. She bit down on her tongue to resist.

“Oh, Lee...” she finally managed. “Don’t stop.”

He moved, gently rolling his hips; she moaned a combination of pleasure and sadness. She ran her hands over his back and tight butt cheeks to release him from his fear or doubt over his shared feelings. His control broke. He pumped his shaft with deep, hard and decisive. She cried out, startled by how fulfilling it was. She’d had sex with other men but none of them had ever reached that far into her soul. He shared in it. He held her tightly to him as he rocked them through a final orgasmic wave until they both collapsed, exhausted.

***

Night came and went. Lee lay with her warmth sprawled over him, his arm placed behind his head. He watched the flames in the fireplace fade as the scant light of the rising sun seeped into the room. He waited. He had a plan, formulated when Sasha Dixon sashayed into his bar and tried to hustle him. What he set in motion never factored in his feelings for Michelle Dixon. He’d denied himself, swore to Pops he would never act on them. She was supposed to be a means to an end. A source of ultimate revenge, that’s all.

It didn’t feel that way.

Lee had never trusted a person in life. Pops Dixon was the only one. And he got screwed over for it.

***

“
What is it? Why you look so juiced so early?” Pops chuckled. He tossed back a shot of whiskey.

Lee wiped his hand down his face. “We need to talk.”

“About?
”

“Chocolat.”

Pops smile faded. “What about her?”

“I found her upstairs in my room, Pops. She got undressed, got in my bed.”

“What?” said Pops. His red-rimmed eyes sobered. “What did you say?”

“I didn’t touch her. I wouldn’t touch her. I told her to get dressed. But I think...I think you should talk to her. She’s confused. She thinks she’s in love with me.” Lee watched Pops move from anger to cold rage. He respected Pops. No matter how tempted he was by the buried feelings he carried for the young woman who smoked cigars and beat him at poker, he would never betray Pops that way.

Pops set the whiskey glass down. “Promise me. One solemn vow between you and me. No matter what, you will never touch her. Promise me!” Pops yelled.

Lee nodded. “I swear it.”

“We’re leaving.”

“Pops!”

Lee watched him go. He dropped in the chair and released a long-repressed sigh. “Damn.
”

***

Using the Dixon sisters to get what belonged to him was justice. Pops broke his vow. So Lee’s promise to him meant nothing. So why now did he care to notice the conscience he abandoned when he became a thief?

Michelle moved. A light snore escaped her. She rolled to her back. The sheet slipped away from her chest and her breasts were uncovered for him again. He could barely be near her without wanting to touch her. But he would not be redeemed enough to have her once she learned the truth. What he’d done to Sasha, what he’d planned to do to her to get the Chalice, would probably cost him any hope of deserving the love she offered. What the hell was he thinking?

Lee escaped the bed smoothly. Michelle didn’t notice. He put on his pajama bottoms and walked out of his room, into his office. He poured a tall glass of scotch. On cue he heard the door open. Abahti entered. “Boss?”

“Sasha’s secure?” Lee asked, without glancing over his shoulder.

“Yes. But she could talk, boss, tell
Chocolat
how it really went down.”

“She won’t,” Lee said bitterly.

“So the plan?”

“We stick to the plan. Get me my stones. It’s show time.”

***

Michelle rolled over with a feline stretch and wiggle of her toes. Sunlight warmed her face. Her eyelids fluttered then open and her vision cleared. Feeling drugged from the wine and unyielding sex, she put her hand to her forehead, trying to gather her thoughts. She felt something nick her skin. Rising in bed, she looked down in shock at the colorful gemstones strewn across the satin sheets and over her body. The rare
Jesus Stones
.

A card lay next to her. Michelle picked it up and read it.

Last night we had each other,

Today we take the world.

—Lee

She fell back to the pillow and stared at the words. Closing her eyes, she shook her head sadly. She was in deep….

Chapter Eleven

Michelle set the cup of coffee on the counter. It was raining again. The soft pellets beat against the windowpane, leaving a trail of tears. As a little girl, rain soothed her, especially when Pops would call off a hustle and play
Monopoly
all night. Or talk Sasha from under the bed when she was scared of lightening. There were times when Michelle would put Sasha to sleep then return to her father for their routine. They’d sit on the deck of some hotel room, or on the terrace of some house he’d rented. Together they’d watch the storm while he smoked his cigar and told her stories of his greatest heists.

Those were the memories she cherished.

Michelle sighed. She turned from the window, resting her tush against the kitchen sink. On the breakfast nook that opened to a view of her tiny apartment were three tall vases of pink roses. The sight of them made her nauseous. Each day she’d dump the flowers and toss the vases. Each day, more would arrive.

It had been over two weeks since it had all gone down. Sasha never left her room when she was home. She barely talked to her at all. That was fine with Michelle. If she did talk to her now, she’d probably knock her into next week for the danger she put herself in.

Michelle stepped away from the sink. The flowers really made her sick. She couldn’t stand the sight of them. They reminded her of him, how she felt in his arms, the things she believed they could accomplish when they made love. She hated the part of her that desired and wanted him still. Disgusted, she grabbed the first vase and tossed it in the trash with the flowers. She did the same thing with the next, but the third wouldn’t fit. She’d tell the delivery guy she’d kick his ass if he returned with another offering.

Her actions didn’t help matters. Sleeping with him, without protection—how could she be so stupid?

Setting the vase down, she picked up the newspaper and checked the bylines once more. There was really no need. She’d watched the news and listened to the radio. She’d checked the Internet nightly. The guard had fingered a black woman for the job. The police released a sketch that looked nothing like her. Yesterday it was reported that the guard had lost his life in a car crash.

“Car crash,” Michelle mumbled. That didn’t feel like a coincidence.

“Morning,” Sasha said, padding out of her room in her
Snoopy
slippers. Michelle watched her sluggish approach. Sasha pulled out the barstool on the other side of the breakfast bar. She didn’t make eye contact. “Any bacon in the fridge?”

“Check for yourself.” Michelle folded the paper and set it aside.

Sasha’s head lifted. She forced a smile. “You want to talk, huh?”

“It’s been almost three weeks. I take it you’re ready to talk to me?”

“No.” Sasha shook her head. “No, I just, I want to say sorry. I should say sorry. I’m the one that got us into this mess. I know what he made you do. I’ve been watching the television, I see that they are looking for you. For someone like you. I’m sorry, Michelle, I really am.”

Michelle pressed two fingers to her temple. She tried to measure patience with her words, but even the Pope couldn’t pull off this feat. “You gambling, Sasha? Since when do you gamble?”

When Sasha didn’t answer, Michelle looked upon her again. “Answer me.”

“I don’t, um, gamble. Not like Pops. I-I-I just got caught up,” she stammered.

“Explain that to me. You enrolled in school, you got friends, a car, I make sure you have money to shop with. Why would you go down to
The Hamlet
, and mess with Lee, of all people? How exactly does one get ‘caught up’?”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Answer the question!” Michelle snapped. “I’ve been racking my brain for weeks. It doesn’t make much sense how this all went down. I’ve never seen you gamble; you don’t hang out with hoods. My thinking is—you went down there for a purpose. Is that what you mean, by got ‘caught up’?”

Sasha sucked in a breath. Michelle saw a pout forming. The urge to knock the pout from her sister’s lips was so strong she clenched her hands into fists. “Answer me.”

“Forget it, let’s not talk. I like it better when we don’t! You’re just gonna blame me, call me stupid. And maybe I am, Michelle. But if I am it’s because you and Pops taught me nothing but this stupid crap we deal with. That’s why I got caught up, because I don’t know anything else but this.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Right, because I’m stupid. Whatever. I went down to
The Hamlet
. Lee dealt me in a game and fronted me money. I started playing, started losing, starting wining. I got caught up. End of story. Why the hell are you looking at me like that? Do you know what they put me through? Chained me to a floor, treated me like a dog. I was scared. I pleaded for them to let me go. It was a nightmare. Now all you can do is blame me. I’m sorry, okay? Okay?”

Michelle watched in disbelief as her sister escaped to her room once again. Sasha was a grown woman. She could do nothing to protect her from her own greed. Damage done, they had Lee back in their lives, and Pops was dead. Yeah, Sasha was right. They were caught up.

Michelle ran her hands through her hair. She needed to think this one out. Lee sent flowers now, but soon he’d make his move. He was out there, watching and waiting. When she told him no, she meant no. But that wouldn’t hold him back. Lee wanted something from her. Something she didn’t understand. That troubled Michelle. What debt had Pops acquired?

There was a knock at the door.

Michelle lowered her hands and listened. The knock came again. She checked the time. She and Sasha didn’t have many visitors. Could it be the deliveryman again with more flowers? Michelle headed out of the kitchen to the door but first, she stopped at the lamp desk and removed her .38. “Who is it?”

“Package for a Michelle Dixon.”

She tucked the gun in the back of her pants. It must be flowers. Again. She heard Sasha come out of her room. “Who is it?”

“No one.”

Sasha returned to her room, slamming the door. Michelle checked the peephole. A man in a suit stood there, staring directly at her. She frowned at his appearance. He didn’t look like a deliveryman. Carefully she eased her gun out of the back of her pants with one hand and unchained the locks with the other. She drew the door open and braced for what was to come next.

“Are you Michelle Dixon?”

“Who wants to know?”

“A friend.”

The man extended a large envelope to her.

Michelle accepted it.

“Have a nice day.”

Closing the door, Michelle locked it and set the gun down. She opened the envelope, heading for the white and brown rattan chair. She plopped down on the sunken seat cushion and carefully withdrew a sketch of a jeweled goblet. She scanned the writing at the bottom.