Seductive Intent
Chapter One
The sound of a gun cocking was not something Brendan Beckett was used to hearing. Even in his dreams. It made an impression, as did the woman leaning over him in the dark with that very dangerous weapon pointed at his temple.
“I know this sounds trite, but if you move a muscle, you’re dead.”
Trite or not, that kind of statement never got old.
“Uh, okay.”
“Tell me where the safe is.”
He was so going to get his money back on that expensive security system the building had sold him when he bought this penthouse. How the hell did this woman just waltz right in here in the middle of the night and hold a gun to his head? He knew it was a woman only from her soft voice and the feel of her straddling him. Too light to be a man. But it was so fucking dark, he could barely see the black garbed figure sitting on his stomach.
Sitting on his stomach? What the fuck? It wasn’t bad enough he was being robbed by a woman—which was only bound to put a damper on the high regard he normally had for the female sex—but she had to go and mount him? A position which, by the by, he usually enjoyed a lot more than he did at the current moment. He’d never hear the expression “woman on top” with quite the same enthusiasm.
The barrel of the gun pressed a little harder into his temple, nudging him ever so not slightly into providing the information his midnight visitor had requested.
“There is no safe.”
“You’re lying.”
“Look around yourself. Or, wait, you probably already have or you wouldn’t be asking me. I imagine you professional burglars like to get in and out with a minimum of fuss. You’ve probably been here for quite a while already, taking care not to wake me.”
“How do you know I’m a burglar? Maybe I’m an assassin?”
Although he was always one for witty repartee with a woman, he found it hard to appreciate the chit chat given the current circumstances. As it was, the mere fact of a woman sitting on him in the middle of the night was having a predictable effect. Christ, to be honest, he was scared as hell, but apparently his cock didn’t scare easy. He hoped she didn’t notice.
She scooted a little farther up and muttered, “What a wolf.”
No such luck.
“What?” he demanded.
“Your erection is prodding my ass.”
The final indignity. “Well, you are on top of me in my bed.”
“With a gun pointed right at you. You’d think that’d give you pause.”
“It does. Believe me.”
“But you’re still up for a fuck?”
“Was that an invitation?”
“No. More like an observation. Now where is the safe?”
“Look, I’m being honest here. Why wouldn’t I be? There is no safe. If there was, I’d point you right to it so you could get the hell out of here. Believe me, I’m no hero.”
“I believe you.”
Okay, so he wasn’t in much of a position to argue. He really should just let it go. But this girl, whoever the hell she was, was really pissing him off here. And it wasn’t just the gun thing. Although he guessed he should be more pissed off about that.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“What?”
“That I’m no hero.”
“Nothing. You’re the one who said it.”
“But you agreed with me pretty quickly.”
“Well, you do have a reputation for being a playboy.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“I imagine you probably have bodyguards and the like to do the dirty work for you rather than mess up your pretty face.”
She was the one with the gun, but did she have to be such a bitch about it?
“I’m twice your size. I could probably overpower you.”
“Exactly. But you haven’t even tried.”
“You observe I’m ready for a fuck and now you’re practically inviting me to overpower you? I’m starting to doubt here that you even are a burglar.”
His eyes were accustoming themselves to the dark, a dark much blacker than he usually had in his bedroom. He realized she must have shut the blinds, since he’d fallen asleep with them open. Her face was so close to his now, mere inches away at most, that he could almost feel her breath on him. Arguing with her hadn’t dissipated his erection any more than having a gun pointed at his head had.
Okay, so he’d had some inadvisable hookups in his long and varied sexual history. Of course there’d been the usual sleeping with his mom’s slutty best friend when he’d turned eighteen. The slutty best friend of one of his sister’s even earlier than that, for which he’d inevitably gotten no end of grief. Then the occasional slutty girlfriend of a friend, though he’d honestly been ashamed of himself for giving in to that and really hadn’t done it more than once. Twice maybe. He had a thing for sluts. Then there were the wild days when he’d pick up a girl in a bar, even a biker bar once and a while just for fun, when he had no idea who she was or where she’d been, although he was always careful to suit up first and had never gotten his throat slit for his troubles.
The sound of a gun cocking was not something Brendan Beckett was used to hearing. Even in his dreams. It made an impression, as did the woman leaning over him in the dark with that very dangerous weapon pointed at his temple.
“I know this sounds trite, but if you move a muscle, you’re dead.”
Trite or not, that kind of statement never got old.
“Uh, okay.”
“Tell me where the safe is.”
He was so going to get his money back on that expensive security system the building had sold him when he bought this penthouse. How the hell did this woman just waltz right in here in the middle of the night and hold a gun to his head? He knew it was a woman only from her soft voice and the feel of her straddling him. Too light to be a man. But it was so fucking dark, he could barely see the black garbed figure sitting on his stomach.
Sitting on his stomach? What the fuck? It wasn’t bad enough he was being robbed by a woman—which was only bound to put a damper on the high regard he normally had for the female sex—but she had to go and mount him? A position which, by the by, he usually enjoyed a lot more than he did at the current moment. He’d never hear the expression “woman on top” with quite the same enthusiasm.
The barrel of the gun pressed a little harder into his temple, nudging him ever so not slightly into providing the information his midnight visitor had requested.
“There is no safe.”
“You’re lying.”
“Look around yourself. Or, wait, you probably already have or you wouldn’t be asking me. I imagine you professional burglars like to get in and out with a minimum of fuss. You’ve probably been here for quite a while already, taking care not to wake me.”
“How do you know I’m a burglar? Maybe I’m an assassin?”
Although he was always one for witty repartee with a woman, he found it hard to appreciate the chit chat given the current circumstances. As it was, the mere fact of a woman sitting on him in the middle of the night was having a predictable effect. Christ, to be honest, he was scared as hell, but apparently his cock didn’t scare easy. He hoped she didn’t notice.
She scooted a little farther up and muttered, “What a wolf.”
No such luck.
“What?” he demanded.
“Your erection is prodding my ass.”
The final indignity. “Well, you are on top of me in my bed.”
“With a gun pointed right at you. You’d think that’d give you pause.”
“It does. Believe me.”
“But you’re still up for a fuck?”
“Was that an invitation?”
“No. More like an observation. Now where is the safe?”
“Look, I’m being honest here. Why wouldn’t I be? There is no safe. If there was, I’d point you right to it so you could get the hell out of here. Believe me, I’m no hero.”
“I believe you.”
Okay, so he wasn’t in much of a position to argue. He really should just let it go. But this girl, whoever the hell she was, was really pissing him off here. And it wasn’t just the gun thing. Although he guessed he should be more pissed off about that.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“What?”
“That I’m no hero.”
“Nothing. You’re the one who said it.”
“But you agreed with me pretty quickly.”
“Well, you do have a reputation for being a playboy.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“I imagine you probably have bodyguards and the like to do the dirty work for you rather than mess up your pretty face.”
She was the one with the gun, but did she have to be such a bitch about it?
“I’m twice your size. I could probably overpower you.”
“Exactly. But you haven’t even tried.”
“You observe I’m ready for a fuck and now you’re practically inviting me to overpower you? I’m starting to doubt here that you even are a burglar.”
His eyes were accustoming themselves to the dark, a dark much blacker than he usually had in his bedroom. He realized she must have shut the blinds, since he’d fallen asleep with them open. Her face was so close to his now, mere inches away at most, that he could almost feel her breath on him. Arguing with her hadn’t dissipated his erection any more than having a gun pointed at his head had.
Okay, so he’d had some inadvisable hookups in his long and varied sexual history. Of course there’d been the usual sleeping with his mom’s slutty best friend when he’d turned eighteen. The slutty best friend of one of his sister’s even earlier than that, for which he’d inevitably gotten no end of grief. Then the occasional slutty girlfriend of a friend, though he’d honestly been ashamed of himself for giving in to that and really hadn’t done it more than once. Twice maybe. He had a thing for sluts. Then there were the wild days when he’d pick up a girl in a bar, even a biker bar once and a while just for fun, when he had no idea who she was or where she’d been, although he was always careful to suit up first and had never gotten his throat slit for his troubles.