Thief of Hearts (10 page)

Only, Jared grimly deduced, to be brought back and shuffled into another foster home, where the cycle could start again. And again. A wretched existence, one that had broken more children than not. It was amazing that Kara had not only survived, but had emerged with her conscience and honor intact.

“No one lays a hand on you while I’m around,” he said, pulling the blankets over both of them, gratified at how she pressed against him, already relaxing back into sleep. “It’s all right. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

Not even
, he added silently,
if I have to handcuff myself to your side for a year to get you to believe
I’d never abandon you
.

He caressed her breast, felt her nipple stiffen against his palm and stroked slowly, soothingly. She sighed. “Go to sleep,” he murmured, “there’s nothing here to be scared of,” and wondered how the hell
he
was supposed to go to sleep with a cock that was now wide awake and raring to go.
For starters,
you could keep your hands to yourself, moron
. Sure. He’d stop eating and breathing while he was at it.

Her eyes were open and she was staring at him in the gloom. She rolled closer, pressing more of her breast into his hand. She took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. “Jared,” she whispered, “don’t stop.”

“Was that ‘Don’t. Stop!’ or ‘don’t—”

“Jared.”

“Sorry.”

“Just shut up,” she said, not unkindly, “and love me.”

“That’s an easy one,” he said gently, kissing her brow. “Easier than breathing.” He wasn’t talking about the physical act. He wondered if she knew that. Even if she did, he realized, she wouldn’t believe him. It was enough to make him want to weep…or beat the living shit out of everyone in her life who had ever hurt her.

He forced that away, not wanting to let ugly thoughts intrude on their precious time together. He leaned forward and kissed her, slowly sucking her lower lip into his mouth. She made a small sound and reached for him, found him, then her hand slid lower and she gently cuddled his testicles in her palm.

He pressed kisses to her throat, her upper chest, her breasts and moved lower, licking the small cup of her navel, nuzzling the sweet fleshy slope that led to her marvelous center. He parted her with his tongue, smiling at her gasp and slowly, lovingly licked her slick length, tasting her salty warmth. She was still damp from their earlier lovemaking, from the seed he’d eagerly given her and that thought—he’d left his mark on her, in her—thrilled his inner Neanderthal.

She was wriggling while he nuzzled and licked and kissed, catching more and more of her wetness with his tongue, spreading her damp folds so he could lap up her marvelous juices. Wriggling and groaning and saying something and…moving? He was so deeply into the moment, concentrating on her so fiercely, that he hadn’t noticed her movements until he felt her own mouth close around him. Her hand was still cupping his testicles, but now he could feel himself easing into her mouth, down her throat. In response he jabbed his tongue inside her as far as it would go and felt her tremble beneath him. In response to
that
, she backed off, only to slowly suck one of his testicles into her mouth.

He nearly fainted on the spot. It felt like the bottom dropped out of his scrotum, the sensation was so fine he could feel his eyes roll back. He couldn’t recall any woman ever doing that to him before.

She eased off again, probably feeling him shaking like a mobile home in a hurricane and whispered anxiously, “Was that all right? I’ve never tried that before.”

He said something—“Gbbrrlldd,” it sounded like and when she tried it again his hips bucked without prompting from his brain. She played with him like that for a while, her tongue dancing circles around his aching balls and he endured, his face pressed against her inner thigh, not daring to pleasure her for fear he would accidentally bite her or be too rough. When she pulled back and again sucked his length into her mouth, he felt it was safe to continue with her and, in fact, was eager for the taste of her again.

She was holding him quite easily and he marveled at the concealed strength in her small, wiry frame. She was supporting him by his inner thighs, occasionally lowering him enough so he could plunge deeply into her throat, then pushing him back so she could breathe easier. While she took breaths, her tongue flicked out at the tip of him, teasing, stroking and even—very gently—nibbling.

In response, he again spread her wide and licked her slick length, pausing to pay extra, delicate attention to the impudent bud that was the center of her pleasure. Her thighs trembled in his hands as he slowly sucked her clit into his mouth and he hummed against her flesh, knowing the vibrations would push her closer to the edge. He dipped a finger inside her, then withdrew, then dipped again. When his finger was slick, he stroked a path down to the tight bloom of her anus and gently rubbed the rich core of nerve endings there. She made a surprised sound which escalated to a muffled shriek as he slowly pushed his finger past that tight muscular ring. She writhed, trying to jerk away from him, but had no leverage from her position and, with his cock in her throat, no way to verbally protest.

“Easy,” he murmured, “just let me…for another few seconds…it’s all right…” When he was up to the first knuckle he bent to her again, jamming his tongue inside her damp cave and prodding as his nose dug into her clitoris and his finger slid around slowly, out just a touch and then in, no big dramatic strokes, just an overall pressure and gentle wriggling.

She quit trying to get away from him; he could, in fact, feel her entire body quaking as her orgasm neared. She let go of his thighs and he thrust against her warm, inviting mouth, hoping like hell she was getting enough air, hoping like hell he would come soon before he had a heart attack…meanwhile, the taste and smell of her was in his mouth, his nose, driving him crazy, making him want to never stop touching her, tasting her and she was bucking against him and he felt her clench around him as she shook with the force of her orgasm. A half-second later, he found his own release, felt his seed pouring down her throat and pulled back, afraid for her, but she held onto his thighs with an iron grip and milked him greedily, not letting go until she was damn well ready.

They collapsed against each other and lay without moving, trying to get their breath back. Finally, she said, “I don’t even remember why I woke up. But thank God I did.”

He laughed and the laugh turned into a groan as she pinched his inner thigh, then started tickling. He barely had the strength to roll away from her. “Christ, you’re amazing,” he had time to say before falling into a sleep so deep, it was nearly unconsciousness.

Kara came awake like a cat in the dark. As always when in a strange place, her waking thoughts were chaotic: Where am I? Is it safe here? How long have I been here? Who’s after me?
Am I safe here
?

Memories flooded back and she relaxed, then despised herself for relaxing. She certainly wasn’t safe in Jared’s bed. For one thing, the man was deluded into thinking he cared about her, but she wasn’t falling for
that
one, thanks very much. For another, the man was ridiculously talented in bed, a Gold Star Lover…not that her experience was vast, but still. She thought about his hands on her, his mouth on her and felt her face getting warm. He’d done things to her no one had ever done, things she’d never even thought of. And her body craved more, needed more.

She forced her mind away from Jared’s overall marvelousness and back to the problems at hand.

Carlotti had a contract on the man whose bed she was sharing. Jared was a bomb waiting to go off and blow her life to pieces; it was a simply a matter of what happened first: Carlotti got the drop on them, or Jared broke her heart.

Then run
, her mind whispered treacherously and she squirmed in shame. Jared saw a lot—too much, sometimes—and he was right when he called her a coward. It was her nature to run from adversity and emotional danger. Jared had meant something to her from the beginning and that had only made her fight harder.

Now it was too late. She quit pretending when he coaxed her into staying overnight. She was in love.

She was such a stupid fool she had given her heart to someone again, despite life’s cold lessons…and look who she’d picked to fall for! A doctor who was as straight and narrow as a ruler, whose idea of big trouble was running out of gauze pads.

Lying next to Jared’s comforting warmth, she wryly reflected on the fact that she would take murderous goons and the threat of jail over falling in love any day. She was the thief, but Jared had effortlessly lifted her heart and taken it for himself. His sleight of hand had been so superb, she had never seen it coming.

She sat up and looked around his bedroom. There was plenty of light from the moon and she observed a single man’s clutter, a man who worked long hours and cared little for keeping up with the laundry.

Despite the mess, his bedroom was comfortable and inviting. And big. Plenty of room for two.

She shook her head at her foolishness. Jared was beyond marvelous, with a healer’s comforting touch and a comedian’s wit, but he would eventually leave her, as everyone did. Does. It wasn’t a bad thing, it was just the nature of things, of men, of family. She knew once you grew to depend on someone, they would immediately leave you to an orphanage or the streets.

Worst of all were the foster families, the ones who didn’t have to care for you, who were paid by the state to feed you, but then pretended they
did
care, right before they shipped you back to the state home.

She had sworn by the age of ten never again to fall into the trap of caring and for the most part had kept that promise to herself. There had been a few slips, of course, but the lesson, hard learned, sometimes had to be reinforced.

She eased from the bed and Jared never stirred, though he muttered unhappily in his sleep and his hand sought her. She tucked the blankets beneath his chin, marveling at how boyish and charming he appeared even in sleep. She hated to leave him, this warm, comfortable room, this place. And because she hated it so much, she made herself get dressed and get the hell out.

Once on the street, she paused for a moment, observing pre-dawn traffic and wondering what to do now. Her attitude toward Carlotti had always been re-active, not pro-active: she never went looking for trouble, but when it found her she defended herself. That, she belatedly realized, was not the way to handle the Carlotti situation. The more time she spent with Jared, the more foolish her thoughts became.

She couldn’t quit bodyguarding, couldn’t walk out of Jared’s life and leave him on his own until the situation resolved itself. Good doctor Jared would become shortly a Mob prisoner, then a cadaver. So how best to complete her service and get out of Jared’s life?

Pro-active, she reminded herself, buttoning her jacket against the early morning chill. Find Carlotti. It wouldn’t be difficult. Find him and kill him. Now. Before one more day went by. And then get out of Jared’s life…
before he hurts you…
while there was still time. She had never killed anyone—that sort of thing was never necessary during her hacks—but she figured Carlotti was an excellent place to start.

Given a choice between taking an irrevocable step toward corruption and keeping Jared safe…no contest.

Okay. One of Carlotti’s girls was living at Mag’s pross house. Mag owed her several favors. It was a good place to start.

Kara stepped down from the curb to flag the cab at the end of the block.

* * * * *

“I don’t know if he’s here for
sure
,” the prostitute repeated nervously. The woman’s street name was Krystal (“That’s with a ‘K’, sugarbumps.”) and while she claimed to be not yet drinking age, Kara put her at mid-to-late twenties. Of course, Krystal-with-a-K could be right. The street was tough on faces and the average pross had a shelf life slightly longer than yogurt. “And I don’t know why we had to come here
now
. I told you, if he
comes
, it won’t be ‘til
suppertime
.”

Krystal slung her purse over one bony hip and glared at Kara. She was a tall woman, underweight and twitchy, with a long, narrow face and a gleaming gaze that watched avidly for disaster. The woman had observed a child slip and fall down hard enough to skin both knees bloody and had laughed so hard she’d stumbled off the curb. Kara hadn’t commented, but did walk over and assist the child to his feet, brushed him off and sent him on his way. She wasn’t surprised, by either the child’s misfortune or Krystal’s cruelty. The prostitute with a heart of gold was a movie myth. The very nature of their work bred savagery and indifference. Their lives were so hard, who cared about anyone else’s? Kara didn’t like it, but she could understand it.

“I appreciate you showing me the place,” she replied absently. The warehouse was close to the train depot and she imagined it had once been used to store incoming shipments. Krystal told her Carlotti used it to house stolen goods and black market movies…here a customer could get a tape of a movie before it even hit the theaters. “But it’s beginning to occur to me that I’ve been something of an idiot.”

“Huh?” Krystal replied, her ratty gaze darting all over the empty first floor. “What are you talking about?”

It had taken Kara hours to seek out Krystal and talk the woman into giving her directions to the warehouse. Krystal’s insistence on accompanying her should have been the first tip-off. Now it was past lunchtime and Kara remembered that, as usual, no one knew where she was, or when she was expected back. She’d been led to an abandoned warehouse by an untrustworthy woman who laughed at a child’s pain. And she only had Krystal’s word that Carlotti wouldn’t be here for another six hours.

The oldest trick in the book
, Kara thought, shaking her head as she heard the bolt from the front door shoot home, locking them both inside.
And I fell for it. Because I wanted to rush and get this over
with so I could run away from Jared. Stupid, stupid girl. Now pay the price for your cowardice.