Con Man: Complete Series Box Set: A Bad Boy Romance (7 page)

“Can I help you?” I asked as I turned toward the handsome man now leaning on the bar.

He was about as tall as me, even with the heels, and had thick black hair that was that perfect balance between working professional and chronic bad boy. Decently muscled, he had a jaw strong enough to join a weightlifting competition. Not exactly my type, but he'd do.

“I was just considering asking if I could buy you a drink, but then I thought that a woman as beautiful as you was probably used to silly tactics like that.” He gave me a charming smile.

“Oh, so what’s your plan now?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I thought I might go in with a line about legs that go on for days, but that was too trite.”

“Mmhmm,” I agreed playfully, appreciating his vocabulary. I wasn't a snob, and I wasn't looking for a great conversationalist, but I'd always found brains more attractive than brawn.

“So then, I told myself that I should just talk to you like a normal human being, rather than some macho caveman conquest.”

That actually made me laugh in surprise. This guy wasn’t half bad. “Huh, a bold strategy. I think it’s working.”

He winked at me, his dark eyes bold. “But I would still like to buy you that drink.”

I leaned back and gestured toward the bartender. “I wouldn’t protest.”

Only a few seconds later, I had another Long Island in my hands, and my new friend had a whiskey sour.

“I suppose I should call you something other than beautiful woman at the bar,” he murmured, putting his hand on my arm. The touch was electrifying.

It'd been too long since I’d thought about anything other than work-work-work that I felt like my body was jumping into hyper drive. What was that one saying? All work and no play made Jane a dull girl?

Well, I was ready to play.

The alcohol made it easier, but I'd had this tension building in me for a while.

“No. That sounds just right.” I gave him a saucy grin.

He tilted his head back and laughed. It was a nice sound, rich and deep. “Fine then, beautiful woman at the bar, you can call me Cameron.”

“Karis,” I offered back when he didn't press for it.

As I finished my drink, I made my decision. He was handsome, he was decent at conversation, and most importantly, he wasn’t a ghost from my past or a suspect from my present. He'd certainly take my mind off of things for a while, and maybe relax me enough so I could get a decent night's sleep.

“Why don’t we finish all this small talk at my place?”

He looked surprised that I was the one who brought it up, but a slow grin spread across his face. “I think I'd like that.”

“Safety first,” I said as I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick picture. “A girl can never be too careful.”

When I saw respect rather than annoyance or condescension on his face, I knew I'd picked a good one. I could let myself go with him and not have to worry about any messy strings or follow-up. We were definitely on the same page, and that was a good place to be.

As we headed for the door, I reached back to take his hand and had a sudden flash of memory. A different hand in mine, smaller, younger. Fingers threaded between mine. Warmth and strength. Even after we'd gotten older and knew how other people would see the gesture, Bron had never stopped reaching for my hand. Not until he'd vanished.

I pushed the thought from my head. I wasn't with Bron. I'd never been with Bron in that way. And I never would be. Whoever Bron was now wasn't someone I could even consider being with. No matter what I decided to do, that fact wouldn't change.

We weren't on the same side anymore.

W
e barreled
through my door like a couple of high school kids rushing to get done before our parents got home. I was all for that. I didn't want love-making. I wanted to fuck.

Our mouths moved fervently against each other in a fierce and desperate sort of dance while his hands were all over me, over and under my shirt, down over my ass. Caressing my sides, sliding down my spine, grabbing a hold of my ass and pulling me flush to him. I was breathless, and giddy, and entirely into the moment.

I kicked the door shut before we could give my neighbors something interesting to talk about.

Then his warm, deft fingers were pulling my shirt up and over my head. I raised my arms, tilting my head back with a trill of happy laughter. I deserved this.

Oh yes, I deserved this.

My hands were busy too, not wanting to miss out on the opportunity. I yanked his shirt over his head before he could kiss me again. Damn, he was built just like I'd imagined. I ran my hands over his chest, then slowly slid them down to tug at the waistband of his jeans.

He pushed my hands away, his eyes darkened to near-black. He stepped toward me, backing me against the wall. His capable fingers traced along the lacy edges of my bra, found a nipple through the thin fabric, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

My breath left my mouth in a gasp, and I arched my back, pushing my breast into his hand. He smiled down at me, a few inches taller than me now that my heels were off. He moved his thumb over my nipple, and it hardened. He had a good touch, and I couldn't wait to feel more, skin against skin.

I gave him a heated look and deftly began unbuckling the inconvenient barrier to my Friday night prize.

“Don’t worry,” I whispered, leaning forward to let my lips just barely brush against his ear. “I’m an excellent host.”

I tossed his belt to the side and set about unbuttoning, then unzipping his jeans. I could tell he was struggling to keep his breath steady, but I could practically smell his desire thick in the air. Once I had my way with his troublesome pants, I reached in and pulled him from his boxers, pushing the waist lower on his hips.

I wasn’t disappointed. I wrapped my fingers around him, loving the feel and weight of him. He groaned as I gave him a gentle squeeze. He was a little over average in length, but thick. I ran my hand from the top down to the very bottom, my fingers barely touching when I reached the base.

My pussy clenched at the thought of what he'd feel like inside me.

“Anything I should know before we take this any further?”

“No,” he ground out. “I'm clean.”

I wasn't going to take his word for it when we got down to fucking, but for what I wanted to do next, I'd take the minimal risk if it meant I didn't have the taste of latex in my mouth.

“We're using a condom later,” I said, just to make sure we were clear.

He nodded, swallowing hard as I sank to my knees. I glanced up at him with a smile, then leaned forward and wrapped my lips around the tip of him. He swore, the sound breaking off in a strangled sound when I took more of him.

“Fuck,” he whispered breathily.

“Probably in a few minutes.” I stopped my ministrations just long enough to get the phrase out before returning to my sweet torture.

I worked my tongue around his shaft, teasing him with varying pressure before hollowing my cheeks and sucking hard. He hissed as my teeth lightly touched him.

“Damn,” he growled. “Want you.”

I winked at him but didn't remove my mouth as I moved my head up and down over him until I managed to take all of him, my nose brushing against the dark curls at the base. I glanced up to see his mouth hanging slightly open and listened to his inhales coming in as short, desperate little pants.

“I’m close,” he rasped, gripping my hair. “I’m gonna–”

I pulled away abruptly, his cock bobbing back up to slap against his stomach.

“Not yet,” I insisted as I got to my feet. I looked down at myself, then back up at him. “I think I’m a bit overdressed.”

“And I think I agree.”

The next thing I knew, his hands were at my bra. He unclasped it with one hand even as his mouth came down on mine. I took a moment to be impressed, and then his tongue was sliding between my lips. Our tongues battled for dominance, and he slid a hand up my side and around to grasp my breast. His touch was just rough enough to have me moaning.

By the time he pulled away and gave me a hooded look, my pulse was racing. “Which door leads to the bedroom?”

I pointed, and he swept me up into his arms. It was more thrilling than romantic, but I'd never been with a man tall enough to manage it before. In a few feet, we reached my room, and he tossed me on the bed.

I laughed, but before I could right myself, he was peeling off his boxers. He'd been impressive before, but now, somehow, he seemed even larger.

I tried to sit up and take control again, but he moved over me, raising an eyebrow as he slid down my body, nipping lightly at my skin until he reached my bellybutton. He tugged down the side zipper of my skirt, then pulled it and my panties off at the same time.

His eyes were almost black as he settled between my legs. He muttered a curse, then brought his mouth to my lower lips. Tongue wet, he parted my folds, and I was in heaven. He found my clit fairly quickly, dancing around it in long, languid strokes while one of his fingers circled around my entrance.

“So good,” I murmured.

A new sort of tension began building inside me, the good kind that would explode into a release of pleasure. Then he did something with his tongue that made my eyes cross.

“Where did you learn that?” I managed to gasp out the question.

Apparently he decided he didn’t need to answer with words. Instead, he flicked his tongue upwards over the oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves. It was quick, but my body responded like he had shocked me. I felt him chuckle, the vibrations making me gasp, then cry out as he flicked his tongue against me a few more times. My thighs tightened involuntarily against the sides of his head.

He laughed, apparently enjoying my reaction as much as I was enjoying what he was doing. Some men performed oral sex like it was a chore, something that needed to be done to get ready for the main event. Not him.

My hand landed on the back of his head, fingers buried in his hair. I rocked my hips against his mouth, spearing myself on his oh-so-talented tongue. To his credit, he let me ride his face, use him until the building pleasure and pressure inside me snapped, and I let out a keening wail, head thrown back in utter abandon. He let me finish, his tongue moving slowly over me, drawing out my pleasure until all my muscles went wonderfully limp.

Oh yes, this was exactly what I’d needed.

When I opened my eyes, Cameron had found the condom in my nightstand drawer and was rolling it on. A moment later, he was crawling up my body. I was all too willing to let him position me how he needed as he gripped his sizable length and lined it up with my very wet, very ready entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes flicking up to me to see if it was alright. I nodded that I was ready – more than ready – and he moved his hips towards me.

That same pressure and pleasure started up again almost as soon as he pushed forward. All the air rushed from my lungs, and for a moment, all I could do was breathe as he fully sheathed himself. It had definitely been too long, and he wasn't small. He moved slowly a few times, testing out how my body responded to him. It wasn’t until I placed both hands on his back and pulled him to me greedily that he began thrusting into me with more power.

“Cameron,” I hissed his name.

Time seemed to slow, to narrow down to just the two of us, as if nothing else existed. Just flesh on flesh, pleasure on pleasure. No criminals, no work, no responsibilities. No need for future promises. Just us.

My climax rushed towards me yet again, and he seemed to sense it. He cupped one of my breasts, caressing it while one of his fingers played with my sensitive nipple. I let out a mewl despite myself, writhing up against him. I'd always been responsive, but this was all him. He'd never be at a loss for partners.

“Oh god, I think I’m going to…!” I trailed off, unable to complete the thought.

His rhythm stuttered, and I knew he was as close as me. Almost frenzied, he drove into me with everything he had. I raised up to meet him, hips slamming into hips. I was faintly aware of my cries of pleasure bouncing off the thin walls, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care. Meeting my neighbors for the next few days might be a bit awkward, but it'd be worth it.

Finally, the moment came. Or rather, we both did. I went first, nails on his broad back, my legs high in the air, and he quickly followed. We rode through the pleasure together before collapsing onto the bed, both breathless.

I slowly floated down from the high, concentrating on the sound of my breathing, the rush of blood in my ears. Neither of us spoke, and for that I was grateful. Right now, I just wanted to enjoy the moment.

My situation hadn’t really changed, but I felt like I'd at least have a clearer head about me tomorrow.

M
y fists clenched
as I watched Karis lean over the bar to order another drink. It wasn’t fair for her to look so delicious in that barely-there skirt and tight shirt. It was miles apart from the business suits I'd spied her in before, and, holy hell, that woman had legs for days. I wanted nothing more than to sweep downstairs with my typical dramatic flair and pull her out onto the dance floor, not taking no for an answer.

I could just imagine the surprised expression when she recognized me, an eyebrow that would raise in some wordless challenge. My confidence as a child wasn't even close to what it was now, but I'd had enough of it that she'd called me on my bullshit more than once.

I thought back to when she'd suddenly shot up, towering over all of the boys, even me. She'd been so self-conscious about her long limbs at the time, but I distinctly remembered thinking that she looked beautiful. It seemed like the beautiful part was the same, but the confidence part had definitely changed for the better.

Or maybe “better” wasn’t the correct word. My nostalgia faded when I saw a guy slither up to her. Sure, he was tall with a thick head of hair, and fairly well dressed, but he looked like a total sleaze. As someone who routinely rubbed shoulders with sleazy guys, I considered myself an expert – if not one myself.

I watched from my view on the second floor of the club. I knew I was being an idiot by risking being out in the open, in the same place as the FBI agent who was investigating me just happened to be, but I couldn’t help myself.

I'd been right about my new grift occupying my mind, but now that my next step involved waiting around until Monday to contact Leticia, I didn’t have much to distract myself from the possibility of seeing Karis again.

With nothing on my mind to keep me at bay, I'd waited for her to leave work, frowning when I saw her looking both tired and frazzled. I should have just let her walk to the subway, eventually disappearing from my sight, but something had compelled me to go after her.

So I had. Like some sort of obsessed stalker, I'd followed her until she'd disappeared into a quaint little apartment complex in a decent, but certainly not elite, part of the city. It was exactly the sort of place I would've pictured her living.

And I stayed, watched like I had some purpose for being there. I knew a very small part of me wanted to march right up to her door and announce myself like some Crusader returning after years of battle. Thankfully, my sense of self-preservation didn’t let me do that. The chance that she knew I was here was slim, but I shouldn't be taking any chances.

However, fortune seemed to favor the bold, or at least the stupid, and a short while later, Karis was leaving again, wrapped in a winter coat and wearing a pair of heels that made her even closer to my own height.

I'd followed her again, of course, taking in those gorgeously toned legs as we went. It'd grown more difficult to keep my distance, but I'd managed, and now found myself sitting and watching as she talked to the dark-haired guy.

“What happened to you, Karis?” I murmured to myself.

Although she'd slid to the back of my mind for the past few years, I now found myself realizing just how long we'd been apart. For all I knew, she could be engaged. Or a lesbian. Or both. She could've been married, divorced, and now a single mother.

In truth, we'd been separated for almost as long as we'd known each other, and the thought was particularly devastating.

Perhaps devastating wasn’t the right word either. Discomforting? Nausea-inducing? Unpleasant?

I couldn’t really put my finger on what exactly I was feeling. All I knew for certain was that I felt a hollow sort of ache accompanied by a familiar rush of adolescent awe every time I saw her.

Shit. I needed to pull myself together, or this was going to end badly for me.

I was about to get up and leave, disgusted at both my pining and my willingness to risk incarceration by watching my childhood crush get her flirt on when I saw sleaze guy wrap an arm around Karis’ waist and whisper in her ear.

Son of a bitch.

I barely refrained from growling.

She'd see right through him, I had no doubt. She'd put him in his place and then she'd–

She was leaving with him?

I shot to my feet before realizing what I was doing, and then slowly lowered myself back down. Karis was a grown woman, and she could take anyone home that she wanted.

Even if it was some sleazy moron who probably had an IQ in the single digits.

I bit my tongue, trying to stop my temper from flaring up. She didn’t owe me anything. We hadn't even been high school sweethearts. All we'd ever been was friends. And we hadn't seen each other in years. Just because I'd seen her and now couldn't stop thinking about her didn't mean she couldn't date whoever she wanted to date. She was a consenting adult, and I had no claim on her. We weren't anything to each other.

So why did I feel betrayed?

I finished my drink, my mind running in circles.

What if that asshole was her boyfriend and she'd planned to meet him here after he got off work? What if they were happy and healthy together like some fucking fairy tale?

I didn’t have any right to her. I knew that mentally, but my emotions didn’t seem to care. It was like I'd suddenly become that awkward teenager who wanted to fight anyone who tried to come between me and the girl I'd loved forever.

Dammit!

I waited the appropriate amount of time for Karis to put some distance between us, then left the club without looking twice at any of the women who'd been watching me. I knew I was brooding. Actually no, I was full on pouting. All my years of growing and conning the elite, and one day of watching Karis had reduced me to a teenager with a crush.

Perfect.

What would Uaine say if he saw me now?

Then again, who cared what that gun-toting bastard thought? He was in the past, tied up with a neat bow right where he belonged. He liked to claim that he'd made me, but I knew he hadn't done shit out of the goodness of his heart.

It'd been easy to keep him locked away.

But Karis was refusing to stay neatly tucked into the box I'd shoved my childhood into, and now she was pulling out all sorts of memories I thought were long since buried.

I had to get a handle on this as soon as possible. Otherwise, my story would end up being more
America’s Most Wanted
than
Robin Hood
.

I may have been confused about Karis, but I definitely knew that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life in jail because I got careless.