Thief of Mine (2 page)

Chapter Two

“Oh, frigging hell. Can’t you sit somewhere else?” Stella
looked at the smiling blond man in annoyance. This was wedding hell.

Why had she been placed next to him at the traditional long
wedding table out front of the reception guests? What moron had organized that?
That meant she had to be polite to the man. Stella didn’t want to be nice to
him. She didn’t want to remember how he looked with his trousers around his
ankles as he took the bride hard and fast. Just thinking of it made Stella wet,
and that was bad when she could do nothing about it. And she did not want to be
squirming beside him all evening thinking about that sublime appendage of his.

Kit looked down at the name card he had switched only
moments before. He had no intention of spending the evening with anyone but
Stella Rowallan. He liked women who were a challenge. A man could never have
too many challenges in his life. From what little he had learnt from Simone,
Stella was single and not one to take a tumble for just anyone. “‘We’ll see,”
Kit had murmured softly at Simone’s words. Everyone had a weakness.

“Kit Kincaid.” He said holding out his hand to her in
introduction. He smiled as he watched the woman decide whether to take his hand
or not. When she did, he held on tightly and subtly massaged it with his own.
There was something about Stella Rowallan that held his attention. Kit was eager
to find out more about her. She was not classically beautiful but she was a
woman who kept a man looking and wondering.

What was this man doing to her hand? It was supposed to be a
quick shake and release, yet he was gently stroking the back of her hand with
his thumb and every nerve in her body was reacting. Clearly she had to have sex
soon if a mere handshake had her on edge. That or maybe become a nun and devote
herself to good causes and not think about sex. There had to be enough good
causes to do that surely.

“Stella Rowallan, and I know who you are.” Stella pulled her
hand from his. “What sort of a name is ‘Kit’ anyway?” She looked him up and
down as if she found him deficient in some way. It was a look that usually
deflected interest from most men. He instead just looked amused.

Kit was amused by her dismissal of him. This woman was a
pistol, one he would be interested in loading and setting off.

“My real name is Christopher, but friends call me Kit.”

“Oh yeah? And what do your enemies call you?” Stella would
use that option. If she actively sought to hate him now then she wouldn’t be
begging him to slide inside her later when she had had a couple of glasses of
wine and her guard was down. Needing sex and having the wrong person give it to
her was not going to get her anywhere. Sure, she would be satisfied but she
would hate herself for being so weak and needy.

Kit laughed at her words. She was definitely prissy, she
definitely had attitude and she definitely wanted him, but was fighting it.
Excellent. It would make his pursuit so much more interesting.

“Come on princess, I’m not that bad.”

“Whatever.” Getting into a discussion about him being bad
was not on her agenda. Stella knew she was stuck with him for the evening. She
planned on eating fast, drinking much and avoiding any interest he had in her.
She was exceptionally good at ignoring people she did not like, so she knew she
would have to apply this same diligence to lover boy.

Stella knew he was watching her intently as she hiked up the
bell shaped hooped skirt to her knees and sat down awkwardly over one of the
stools that had been specifically set up for the bridesmaids and their ugly
skirts. She thrust her legs under the table and prayed that the table cloth
stayed on and that the wine flowed generously, otherwise the guests would be
getting a good look at her legs and she would be sober and cranky. She was well
and truly over today. She hated weddings and suddenly being reminded that she
had not had sex in such a long time did not help her mood. Stella did not need
this blond guy to add to her general discontent.

Kit had taken a very long, appreciative look at Stella’s
legs. He had watched as she had hoisted her skirts up to sit down. He had seen
all the way up to her creamy thighs. Under the sheer flesh colored thigh-high
stockings she wore, he knew those smooth and pale legs would be excellent
wrapped around his waist as his cock was buried deep within her. Kit’s gaze
roamed to her full breasts that were barely contained in the pink satin bodice.
There was cleavage to burn and enticement enough for monk to forget about his
vow of celibacy. His fingers itched to pull the fabric down and fondle and suck
the luscious goods inside.

“That’s an ugly dress.”

Stella arched her eyebrows at him. She could feel his eyes
burning into the fabric the clung precariously to her breasts.

“Try to imagine how little your opinion means to me, lover
boy.” She pulled up the bodice of the meringue dress as she grabbed an empty
wine glass off the table. Where was the wine? She was going to need alcohol to
get through this evening if she had to sit next to this man.

“It was just sex, princess.” Kit leaned in close to her, his
thigh pressing against hers under the table as dinner was served. He liked the
pissed off way she called him “lover boy”.

“Yes, I heard it was farewell sex and apparently, somehow
that makes it right.” Stella tried to move away from him, but there was nowhere
to go and she didn’t want it to look obvious that she was trying to avoid
touching him. That muscular thigh pressing into hers reminded her of the man’s
hot ass she had previously seen thrusting back and forward, as he serviced the
bride.

“Do you have a problem with sex?” Kit wondered just what it
would take to get this woman to open up to him.

“No.” Only that she hadn’t had it for a long time and the
last time had been truly uneventful. What was the point of sex if you felt
nothing? But she had no intention of telling him that. God knows where that
discussion would end up. Most likely with her flat on her back, him inside and
her urging him on to drive her over the edge. Stella looked at the blond man.
Yeah, she instinctively knew he would make her feel something, something that
would burn her deep down to the core and make her scream out loud as she came
in his arms. And while lust was good and exciting and she could vaguely
remember what it felt like, she wanted something more than just lust.

But what the hell was it that she wanted? That was the
question Stella had yet to find an answer to. She eyed the blond man
thoughtfully. Take a chance and go for what she knew would be the ride of her
life, or be prim and proper and hate him? Stella decided to go with hatred. It
would be the easiest emotion to go with in the long run. She just knew Kit would
be an excellent lover. But he was also the sort of man you did dumb things
over. Stella’d had enough life experience when it came to doing dumb things.
She didn’t need to add to it.

“You’re awfully uptight, princess. I know a great solution
to that.”

“I just bet you do.” And it had nothing to do with yoga or
tai-chi, thought Stella. She was normally never this prickly with anyone but
this man instantly had her back up.

There was something about her that appealed greatly to Kit.
Even as he was taking Simone he was wondering about the woman who looked at him
with such amazement. Despite the prickly surface, he had a definite need to
touch and taste her. He had never felt so instantly attracted to a woman.

“We could be awfully good together. You know it’s true,
princess.”

Stella snorted out loud at his words.

“Wow, do most women drop their knickers and bend over for
you when you tell them that?” Stella asked sweetly. Yay. She spied the wine
waiter approaching. Salvation cometh. Stella held out her empty glass. “And don’t
call me ‘princess’.”

“You’re not most women and I’d like to get to know you
before you drop you knickers for me.” There were just some women that a man
knew he wanted and she was one of them. Her face, her body and that attitude
made Kit want to sling her over his shoulder and take her kicking and screaming
to some remote location where he could fuck her until she could not stand and
the only screaming she did was in release.

“Ain’t ever gonna happen, sunshine.” Stella took a slug of
wine and turned to chat to the groomsman on the other side of her. He was
boring, married and not the slightest bit hot and that was a good thing. Boring
was safe. Hot was bad. She tried to zone out and ignore lover boy beside her.
But it was virtually impossible as he had no intention of being ignored. He was
the pesky, persistent type who did not scare easily.

“The bride and groom look happy.” Kit smiled as Stella
jumped at the words he whispered into her ear. The fact that he had her so on
edge told him to things. She was very aware of the attraction between them and
it wouldn’t take long to push her over the edge and into his arms.

“Gee, do you care if they are?” Even his hot breath on her
ear turned her on. She had to get a grip. This man was a stranger to her. An
annoying stranger with a great butt. She cursed herself mentally.
Forget the
butt for God’s sake, woman.

“You know having sex with me is not going to ruin her life
or yours.”

Stella snorted out loud. Was this the most confident man in
the world or what?

“Good to know especially as I am never going to be having
sex with you, lover boy.” She was bound and determined that this would never
happen. She was keeping her panties on at all costs.

Kit grinned at her words. That was a challenge if he ever
heard one. He never ignored a challenge.

As plates of soup were served, Stella felt movement under
the table. Her skirt was suddenly being tugged further up her leg. She looked
at Kit Kincaid, who in turn looked back at her innocently. A horrible thought
occurred to her. Oh God, he wouldn’t, would he? Stella’s mouth dropped as she
felt his hand starting to burrow further under her skirt. Bloody hell! This
could and should not be happening. Did the man have no sense of decorum at all?

“Stop it now,” Stella hissed softly at him, as she tried to
push his hands away from what she knew was his objective. Although she did not
want to create a scene, she would.

Kit’s hand slid up the bare flesh of Stella’s thigh seeking
and finding the edge of her panties.

“Talk to me, princess,” Kit said sotto voce, looking like he
did not have a care in the world as his hand sought out the hidden, hot prize
he knew awaited his touch.

Stella dropped her spoon and grabbed the table edge with one
hand as she battled the other that was sliding into her panties.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Stella returned in a furious
whisper. “Stop it now.”

Kit slid his long fingers under the fabric and stroked the
soft curls between her legs. He felt Stella tense and heard her strangled gasp.
She was soft and wet to the touch. Perfect.

“Agree to meet me outside now and I’ll stop.” He continued
to push his way on into the moist folds between her legs, seeking entrance to
the core of her.

Stella was trying desperately not to squirm.