Stolen: Between the Covers
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by Loribelle Hunt
Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance
Description: To prove he's the best thief on The Blind Bet Aaron Crews accepts Zeus's challenge to steal all eighteen volumes of the rare Victorian porn magazine called The Pearl. He already knows the location of one such set and using his real identity, gets an acquaintance to get him into the house for a private tour. Unfortunately, Eden Scott knows exactly what he is and has a challenge of her own. Despite his denial and refusal of her request, she's more than willing to share her body with him for one night. But will he walk away with her heart?
eBook Publisher: Cobblestone Press, 2009
eBookwise Release Date: June 2009
7 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [37 KB]
Reading time: 19-26 min.
The Pearl complete 18 Vols.
You have seven days.
Zeus * * * *
Aaron Crews gave his name to the leather hooded man at the front door and waited patiently while his identity and right to be at the exclusive party were verified. After a quick glance at the clipboard he held and a brief call, the doorman permitted Aaron to be ushered inside. Aaron didn't breathe a sigh of relief when he crossed the threshold, however.
Getting the invitation was the easy part.
He didn't bother to hide his appreciation from the man approaching him, though. It went with his cover. The place was huge, even by Palm Beach's standards, and rumored to have been built as an exact replica of the owner's Mediterranean villa.
"Lovely, isn't it?"
"It is." Aaron extended his hand. "Aaron Crews." A calculated risk using his real name and occupation to gain entrance to the house, but it appealed to his adrenalin-junkie nature. He felt a spike of excitement. The chase was on.
"Todd Jacobs." He jerked his head to the side as he turned. "Come join the party."
Aaron coolly studied the man as they walked down the long center hall that led to music in the distance. Tall, lean, and distinguished looking, he looked more like a Wall Street mogul than the owner of one of the world's largest collections of Victorian erotica. Aaron guessed his age to be around sixty.
The corridor ended in a big room, the opposite wall of glass doors open to reveal a lighted pool, patio, and band. Standard south Florida fare. And that's where the standard began and ended. He arched an eyebrow as he looked around then schooled his expression when he caught Jacobs grinning at him. The other man glanced at his watch.
"Look around. Enjoy yourself."
Aaron barely paid attention, his interest caught by a threesome in various states of undress and arousal. The woman was on her hands and knees, and one man fucked her from behind while alternating sharp slaps of a belt on her ass cheeks. The second man fucked her mouth, head thrown back in pleasure as he gripped her head. Aaron didn't care much about the men, except he wouldn't mind much switching positions with one of them. The idea made him instantly, painfully hard. He looked around the room wondering if there was an available and willing woman around.
"The tour won't start until midnight," Jacobs continued.
Shit. The tour of his collection. Aaron tried to force his cock back under control, reminding himself of why he was there, but a sexy woman in a red hot dress approached, hips swaying in that age old siren's call, and the appendage refused to cooperate.
She stopped at Jacobs' side, setting her palm on the crook of his arm and pecking him softly on the cheek in greeting. Then she turned to him, her pale blue eyes frank and assessing. And very, very interested. A curiosity he definitely reciprocated. Hell, he was here to do a job, but he might as well have some fun while he was at it, right?
"Aaron Crews, this is Eden Scott." Arching an eyebrow, Jacobs looked back and forth between the two of them. Did he sense the sparking attraction between his two guests? He chuckled and spoke softly, "Given half a chance, I'm sure she'll take very good care of you."
There was something about Jacobs' tone of voice that put Aaron's guard up, but before he could question it the man was gone and the woman was closer, setting her fingertips on his right shoulder and trailing them across his upper back as she circled him. Knowledge coalesced in his brain. Eden Scott. Holy shit.
"You run SPEL." The Society for the Preservation of Erotica Literature. Fuck a duck. Her lips turned up in a sexy half smile.
"I'm the one."
At the smile, the words, he felt he'd been sucker punched to the gut. Was she? He tried to shake off an eerie sense of destiny. No. Fuck no. Wrong time. Wrong place. He'd been communicating with this woman by email for years. Hell, when he'd needed to get into the party, he'd contacted her. He sure as hell hadn't expected her to be there. After all, she, like him, lived and worked in Atlanta. She stepped close to him, leaned forward so that full firm breasts pressed against his chest and he had to fight a groan of approval. She whispered in his ear, "I know who you are, too."
He jerked back. What the fuck did she mean by that? She knew who he was, of course. Rare book dealer from Atlanta. He often sent her things with a less than clear provenance. He wracked his brain, rereading dozens of emails in his mind. He'd never sought her out, never gone to meet her or see her in person, because there was no way his correspondent was as teasing, as sexy in person. Well, he'd believed that. Now he was faced with the reality and left to wonder if he'd somehow given himself away.
Half of her mouth kicked up in a grin as she cocked her head and studied him. "You look like a cornered man, Aaron. Now why is that?"
Two could play that confidence game. He straightened, wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Risking temptation. His blood pressure rose. He bent to her neck, bit her once sharply. "Maybe I don't like aggressive women."
She leaned back, gave him a pouty look that made him want to lick and nibble her lips into submission. "You've got the wrong woman in that case."
She spoke the words confidently enough, but when his hands tightened on her hips, when his teeth grazed her skin again, her breath hitched and her nipples grew hard enough he could feel them through both their clothes. His hand moved to cup her ass, and he pulled her closer, pressed his cock against her belly.
"You sure about that, sweetheart? Your body says otherwise," he whispered.
He could feel her heat through her clothes. Damn, but the woman was smoking hot. He wanted her his way. His lips returned to her neck, sucked on her skin hard enough to mark her as taken, and she leaned into him gripping his shoulders, breathing hard. Then she broke away, turned, and started to walk away.
He caught his breath at what her move revealed. The back of the dress dipped low across the bottom of her back, just covering her ass. Graceful curves, and he'd already touched her smooth skin. But he hadn't been prepared in any way for the tattoo of a cherry tree that covered all of her exposed skin. She paused in her exit and turned to look over her shoulder at him. "Aren't you coming?"
Not before he got inside her.