Page 27 of Factory Thief

My heart flutters in my chest. In my line of work, I don’t get accolades. That’s kind of the point—if I do my job right, nobody knows what I’ve done, they can’t connect it to me.

So, being praised for my work is a novel experience. I feel a smile blossom on my face, and I can’t help pressing myself into his warm flank.

“Thank you. That’s nice to hear.”

Don’t kiss him, Victoria. Don’t do it. Don’t look into those big, soft eyes, the ones that promise comfort and warmth…

His lips press against my own. I melt into his body, merging my curves with his broad chest. I can’t fight it another moment.

I forget all about the men trying to kill us.

I forget the Factory.

I even forget the cold.

All that matters, all which exists is me, him, and our kiss.

JACK

The cold sea cave grows red hot, spurred by the steaming furnace of our kisses. This is the moment I’ve been yearning for since the motel room.

We pull apart for a moment to catch our mutual breath. I stare into her green, verdant eyes, her taste lingering on my lips and tongue. The softness of her breast juxtaposed to my firm chest is one of those unspoken things between men and women. It reminds me how long it’s been since I held a woman like this.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” I gasp.

Victoria’s lips part as she stares at me with shining eyes. I can see her desire wrestling with propriety and old fears in that emerald gaze. For a moment, I think fear will win out. I curve my hand around the swell of her hip a bit firmer, and desire comes roaring back for the knockout win.

“Don’t talk,” she sighs. “Just kiss me again.”

I’m not about to turn down that invitation. I taste her lips once more, sending the blood racing through my body. All that time in prison I felt as if my blood had frozen in my veins. It seemed impossible to feel much of anything, even when I got my exercise in that pathetic concrete ‘yard.’

Now my body has returned to life. It’s back with a vengeance. It’s not just the long period of denial for me fueling this heady desire. I’m not one of those men who just jump on anything that moves because they’re hard up.

I’ve never met anyone like Victoria. On one hand she’s like a female James Bond, and every bit as cool and collected. On the other, she’s got a softer, vulnerable side, a side she keeps buried and hidden.

The fact she’s beautiful is just icing on the cake.

“Don’t stop,” she gasps as I kiss her on the neck. I realize my hand is in her crotch. I’d been toying with her and hadn’t even realized I’d gone that far.

I kiss my way down her belly, moving past the sculpted oval of her navel. Firm muscle lies beneath her sweet, soft skin. Kind of like it’s a metaphor for who she is in reverse.

My hands reach the top of her pants and drag them down. Victoria assists in the removal of her trousers with jerky, shaking movements. An almost desperate whine forces its way out of her tightly clamped mouth when the garment comes free at last.

I press my face against her inner thigh, enjoying my conquest of this supple, forbidden terrain. Victoria’s hands rasp through my hair, as if seeking to drive my head upward. I prefer to take my time.

I grasp her wrists and rear up, pinning her arms above her head.

“No more handcuffs for me,” I say. “Looks like I’m in charge this time.”

Victoria squirms about playfully, her eyes half lidded.

“Oh, and what will you do now that you’re in charge?” she asks, something between a taunt and sarcasm dripping from her words.

In response I dive into her crotch, basking in the musky scent spreading across my palate. I firmly push her thighs apart. Victoria’s back arches as she rears into my touch. I encircle her hip with my arm, grasp and knead her rounded ass as my tongue runs through her gash.

“You taste so good, Victoria,” I mumble into the soft folds of her flesh.

Victoria gasps, her hands returning to my head. This time I let them stay. She’s not trying to direct me, she’s just holding on for dear life, or maybe worshipping the head she’s receiving. I’m not sure which.

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