Authors: Katelyn Skye
Illicit Liaison
Copyright © 2013 by Katelyn Skye
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Table Of Contents
Illicit Lia
ison Book 1: Naughty Business
Illicit Lia
ison Book 2: Broken Contract
Illicit Lia
ison Book 1: Naughty Business
Her mouth was warm and moist, her breath hot on his heated skin. Her full lips slid around his nipple, encircling it and teasing as her tongue flickered against that sensitive flesh. Darien’s body responded to the touch, his cock hardened and his fingers slipped down her spine, enjoying the feel of her satiny skin under his fingertips.
His fingers delved into the cleft between her buttocks. Her ass was firm and rounded, almost plump. He squeezed her cheeks, wondering what it would be like to spank them but lost that train of thought when her mouth moved lower. Her breath stirred the hair at his groin, her tongue swiped across the head of his cock and then licked down his shaft. Her fingers squeezed and her mouth took him in, his hardened length slid down her throat and he gasped, his ass cheeks rising off the rug below them.
Her mouth moved lower, her tongue swirling and twisting around the thick hot meat of his manhood. Sensations exploded through Darien, his prick twitched and jerked as her mouth found his testicles and she suckled them. He stiffened even further and groaned; thrusting up at her and setting a rhythm she followed until he could not bear it anymore and rolled her over.
Lolita whimpered as Darien’s fingers found the wet seam of her pussy and thrust inside her. Her hips jerked back at his fingers, her heated oils covered those questing digits, and her walls sucked and released at his fingers much as her mouth had sucked and released his organ.
He moved his hand faster as Lolita eagerly responded. His tousled blonde head bent to her full breast, his teeth tugging none too gently at her rosy nipple and she dug her fingers into his scalp and pulled him closer, enjoying the almost painful pleasure he was arousing in her.
She was anxious to get him inside of her, even more so when his tongue delved into her honeyed folds. He pressed against her clit, circling it and tormenting her with pleasure. Juices leaked from her, spilling down the crack of her bottom. He took advantage of that, rubbing his fingers into her cheeks then pressing one finger against the puckered ring of muscle that made up her sphincter. A burning flush filled her skin as he pressed harder, breaking past that barrier and into her hot tunnel.
His fingers moved inside her pussy and ass while his tongue licked and suckled the engorged nub of her clit. Ecstasy threatened to overwhelm Lolita and almost did but she pulled back from the brink. This was a game of winner take all and she was determined not to lose to him.
She slung a leg over his lean waist the levered both legs over so that she was back on top of him. Darien’s slate-colored eyes were at half-mast, he was just as lost in a haze of pleasure as she was but that did not mean she should underestimate him.
She walked her knees up until she was straddling him. The swollen head of his cock rubbed against her labia, gently abrading them. His hips moved involuntarily and she grinned, lowering herself a mere inch then withdrawing again.
Darien swore and pulled her hips closer, impaling her on his hardness. Lolita surrendered to him, her channel opening for him, and taking him in. He slid along her slick walls, thrusting up as she bore down. The friction and heat was intense, too intense to resist.
Her knees scraped along the marble floor and her hands pressed harder into his chest. Her body rocked and swayed, her nipples grazed his full lips and he bit down on them, Darien’s hands going to the long black locks that hung around her heart-shaped face but she yanked her head back before he could touch them.
Tremors began in Lolita’s belly and she swore loudly as she began to come, her pussy contracting and opening as bursts of hot fluids ran from her body. Darien closed his eyes allowing his own orgasm to rocket through him, his seed spurted hotly from his cock and splashed inside her walls, and he lay there, allowing the aftershocks to subside.
The sound of metal clicking against metal made his eyes pop open just in time to see Lolita snap a cuff over his wrist. The other cuff was attached to a thin railing that surrounded the wet bar that they lay below.
“I win,” Lolita said smugly.
Darien smiled at her and she had time to wonder just what he seemed so smug about before he sat up, knocking her off his softening penis to grab at something right behind her. A second click sounded and she swore again, this time in frustration as her ankle was encased in a heavy manacle attached to the same bar.
The alarm began to sound and they both stared up at the infrared beams sweeping the floor. “Shit!” Lolita yelled, grabbing her shapeless black top and mask. “I don’t think that will help if the cameras come back on. I can see your pussy from here. You do know the carpets do not match the drapes I hope.”
Lolita gave him the finger, making him laugh. “What the hell is so funny?” She snarled.
He shook a small box instantly recognizable as her lock picking tools.
“Those are mine!” Lolita yelled indignantly.
“I’m a thief, why are you surprised?” His cuff slipped off and he rose off the long carpet. “If you get out you should take this rug, aside from it being a five hundred year old Persian, it has a shit ton of our DNA on it, although to be fair I only pushed my clothes aside whereas you disrobed. That is a mistake on your part sweetheart. Toodles.”
“I’m not your sweetheart!”
He tossed her lock picking tools at her feet, grabbed the prize they had been fighting for, a slim black case holding a necklace worth a cool two million that belonged to the very famous actress whose house they were in, blew her a kiss and vanished through a window.
Isn’t this a bitch?
Yes, it was. The bastard set off the alarm as he went and she had no doubt he had done it on purpose. She did not blame him; she would have done the same. She knew exactly how long she had to get out of there and so she grabbed the lock pick set he had tossed to one side but close enough for her to reach, freed her ankle, yanked her clothes on, bundled up the carpet, and fled as well, making it out with mere seconds to spare.
In her car, she found herself laughing like a loon. Who would have known that she would pick the same house to rob that Darien Knight, thief extraordinaire, had chosen to rob as well? It had not worked out as she had planned but still, it had been a good night after all and she knew a buyer who would love to have the rug.
She patted the wallet she had taken from his pocket, it would not be hard to find him, and not if she knew where to look and she had a feeling she would find the answers inside the wallet.
Darien, sitting politely still at a red light, watched the flashing lights zooming past and wondered if she had gotten out in time. He hoped she had. Lolita Romanoff was a worthy opponent and he knew that she was not one to lose easily. The necklace glittered in his fingers; dash lights picking out the facets of the rare stones and he smiled, knowing she would come for it, eventually.
And he was looking forward to it.
**
Lolita let herself into her apartment, a penthouse that had every safety feature available on the open market and some that were not. She had taken the black wig and clothes off in her car so that when she swept into the lobby she was the impeccably groomed blonde-haired woman that the staff knew as Mrs. Westmore, a little joke of hers.
Westmore had been the prison where she had served four years, after a year in county jail and a trial that had been a nightmare for her. Westmore was a federal prison, a maximum- security joint that housed women who had committed all sorts of crimes and it had been there that she had honed the skills that made her one of the most capable thieves on the planet. Lolita never liked to think about the circumstances that had led her there but sometimes those things came back whether she wanted them to or not and right then the past was pressing her down.
Her apartment looked down over the hills of Los Angeles. She opened the blinds and stood at the windows, a chilled glass of white wine in her hand, thinking about the past.
She had been born Carla Green, a small town girl from Hale, Missouri. She was only sixteen years old when she had killed Jack Lewis, her stepfather. Her lawyer’s defense was that she had done it because he had touched her one time too many but that was only part of the truth, the other part was that he had begun to look at her nine year old sister Jamie a little too closely—Jamie with her sweet and sunny disposition and her slow childlike mind.
Even then, she had known asking their mother for help would do no good. Hallie Lewis had never had any use for her daughters except to get the welfare checks and food stamps that had sustained them while she worked her wiles on every man on the rounds until she finally hooked one into marriage.
Hallie thought she had married well and Lolita supposed that if she had been her mother she would have thought so too. They went from living in a two bedroom trailer on the outskirts of town to living in a three bedroom, two bathroom ranch house in a little suburb where the grass was green and lush instead of patchy and dead, and the cars were all parked in driveways instead of up on blocks.
Hallie had not cared what the house cost her daughter; she batted away her attempts to tell her about what was going on with one hand, usually right across the mouth. It ended when Lolita, then Carla, was fifteen. It seemed Jack found her too old for his tastes right around then. Fortunately, Jamie had also been too young but she had known that would change eventually and she had watched and waited, helpless to do anything else.
She had not plotted to kill him, despite what people thought. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing. It had begun with her coming home from school to find her mother drunk again and Jack holding Jamie on his lap. Her mother had been asleep on the couch, her mouth open in a snore. Jamie had looked calm but it was hard to tell what was really going on behind her placid face, it always had been. Jamie had been a breech birth child and it had prevented her breathing for far too long so she had never progressed much further than being able to sing short nursery rhymes or count to twenty-three.
Lolita had told Jamie to go to her room. She watched her sister leave before she turned to Jack, whose eyes were now full of contempt.
“”Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“I want you to leave her alone.”
“You need to get out of my house. I’m sick of you meddling in my business. You don’t belong here anyway.”
Icy fear ran through her veins. He could throw her out and they both knew it. Her mother would not help and she had nowhere else to go. What was worse was that Jamie would have no protection. The silence spun out, Hallie had continued to snore, her breath sending Scotch fumes into the room. Jack had grabbed her by her arm and she had lashed out, slapping him across the face.
What had happened next was what had sent her to prison. He had stood up, probably to hit her back and she had kicked him. She had meant to kick him too and right where she had. His face had gone the color of moldy cheese as her sneaker-clad foot had hit dead center in his testicles. He had staggered toward her and fear had turned to panic. She had grabbed the fireplace poker, brandishing it like a sword and he had fallen over the ottoman trying to reach her. Fear and self-preservation mingled with love and terror at the thought of what he would do to her sister if she did not stop him.
Hallie woke up just in time to see the blow and she was the prosecution’s best witness. She sobbed on the stand as she described her daughter as a problem child and her former husband as a saint. Lolita supposed the hundred thousand dollar life insurance policy he had left behind did not hurt her mother’s feelings either.
She brushed all of that aside. She had other things to think about right then, like the necklace Darien had stolen from her.
Lolita already had a buyer for it; her fence knew a wealthy housewife who wanted it just so she could have the gift her husband, a film producer, had bought for his mistress. It often staggered Lolita, the things people were willing to pay for. The wife did not want the necklace itself and could have afforded one of her own, what she wanted was to take something away from her husband’s mistress.
She needed the money the necklace would provide. She wanted to retire soon because she knew as anyone in her line of business did, that it was not a matter of if she got caught but when.
There was a gorgeous place in Brazil that she had fallen in love with and she was looking forward to spending the rest of her life there. Given that she was only thirty-two she had a lot of time to look forward to and she was excited about it.
Darien Knight. He was handsome as the devil—blonde hair and blue eyes, a chiseled jaw and arms and abs to match. He was slim and strong, terrifyingly fast and muscular without being bulky.
Her pussy throbbed pleasantly and she smiled, when they had seen each other in the room they had known exactly what was going on.
He had looked at her, a grin on his face and asked, “You want it? Come get it.” He had held it out, that sparkling trophy and she had gone after it gleefully. Now she was going to have to go after it again and this time she could not allow herself to be sidetracked by his mouth or hands or…
She cut that thought off. The rug would be delivered the next day, cleaned and ready to be lain, by a man she trusted only because she had to. She clicked her computer on and began to study up on Darien, using a secret access code that she had bought at great expense to hack into databases across the world. Law enforcement offices were woefully underfunded, which was why they could never catch the people they were looking for. The criminals could afford cyber-ware that allowed them to stay not one but ten steps ahead of the law.
