Fowler Sisters: Stealing Rose Part 8

I'm so lost in thought that I plow right into a solid someone while I'm walking down the street, offering a quick apology as I'm about to dart out of his way when I feel strong hands grip my shoulders and a sizzling awareness heats my veins.

Only one person has been able to make my body react like that.

Glancing up, I'm staring into his face. Caden's. "Are you stalking me?" I ask incredulously.

He offers me a lopsided smile and slowly shakes his head, his hair falling into his eyes. He looks young. Boyish. That doesn't distract from his s.e.x appeal, though. "I'd hoped to run into you, but not quite so literally."

"So you are stalking me." I take a step back, sad yet relieved when his hands fall away from my shoulders. I can't think when he touches me. I might do something stupid.

"Sort of." He shrugs in this completely una.s.suming way and I'm charmed. "Nigel mentioned you were staying at a hotel not too far from the Swan."

"And you thought you'd come back out here on a Sat.u.r.day afternoon and hope to find me?"

"Rather ambitious, right?" He steps out of the way of shoppers trying to pa.s.s by and I do the same, the both of us leaning against a brick building that houses a hair salon. He looks good in faded jeans and a black T-s.h.i.+rt, much how he looked last night, only this time there's more stubble on his face, though his hair is somewhat tamed.

I immediately imagine him rubbing those stubble-covered cheeks against my inner thighs and just like that, I'm wet.

"I've always appreciated an ambitious man," I tell him, folding my arms in front of me, trying to keep my distance.

"Whatcha got there?" He lifts his chin, indicating the tiny shopping bag dangling from my fingers.

"Oh, this?" I glance down at the bag advertising the name of the shop. "Nothing much." Quite literally.

"I'm sure," he drawls, his expression knowing. "So tell me ... bra or panties?"

Did he see me enter the lingerie shop? How does he know about it? I've never heard of the store before and it's not a chain. Maybe he's bought Whitney stuff from there.

Ew.

"Like it's any of your business." Dropping my arms, I turn away from him, intent on returning to the hotel so I can hide out. It was a mistake, shopping. It was probably more of a mistake to fool around with Caden last night. I know nothing about him. He has a girlfriend. He's probably a loser. A s.e.xy-as-h.e.l.l, gorgeous loser, but a loser nonetheless.

"Hey, hey, why the att.i.tude?" He grabs hold of the crook of my elbow, stopping my escape. I glare at him from over my shoulder and the confusion written all over his face doesn't offer any satisfaction. It just makes me feel bad. "What did I do?"

"You found me, that's what you did." I jerk out of his hold. "Go buy lingerie for your girlfriend." I turn and he lets me leave. I'm fighting the disappointment that's trying to take hold when I realize he's walking right beside me. What's wrong with me? Do I want to shake him or do I want to keep this going? He confuses me completely. I don't like it.

I stop and so does he. "Go away," I murmur, keeping my head averted so I don't have to look at him.

"She's not my girlfriend," he says for what feels like the fiftieth time. "I already told you that."

Finally I look at him. "You're staying with her," I point out.

"Doesn't mean that we're together."

"Are you sleeping with her?"

"We sleep in her flat, yes."

I roll my eyes, irritated that we're talking in circles. "Are you f.u.c.king her?"

He c.o.c.ks his head, contemplating me as a ghost of a smile plays at the corners of his too s.e.xy lips. "I've f.u.c.ked her before."

This time I can't fight the disappointment. It settles over me heavily, making my shoulders slump. "Then this," I wave my hand between us, "can't happen again." I start walking and d.a.m.n it, so does he, keeping pace, which means he probably has to slow down because his legs are infinitely long and mine are not.

"Who says it can't happen again?" he asks.

Do I need to break into a full run to get away from this guy? "I do." I thrust my thumb at my chest. "I don't care if you say you're not with Whitney. If you're casually banging her, then I'm not going to casually bang you."

He bursts out laughing, the a.s.shole. s.e.xy, insufferable a.s.shole. "What if I told you the last time I casually banged Whitney was months ago? Maybe closer to a year ago?"

He's tempting me just by saying that. And I shouldn't be tempted. I should walk away from this man and remember my two interactions with him fondly. A girl is allowed to indulge. To make mistakes and do careless things, all in the name of stupid youth. That's all Caden is to me. A careless mistake. A naughty indulgence.

"I'd say you're probably lying, thinking you can get in my panties," I throw back at him. I'm just saying this out of spite, feeling defensive. I have no idea if he really is lying or not.

"You don't usually wear panties," he drawls, and I want to punch him.

Or kiss him. Take your pick.

Caden moves closer, the heat of his body emanating toward me, drawing me in. I take a step forward, as if I have no control over my feet, and he grabs my shopping bag, s.n.a.t.c.hing it right from my fingers. He opens it, pus.h.i.+ng aside the tissue to examine the contents nestled within. "Looks like I can get in your panties right now, hmm?" He reaches into the bag and pulls out a handful of colorful lace.

I pluck a few sc.r.a.ps of lace from his grip, my cheeks hot with embarra.s.sment. "Put those back," I hiss when he lifts the bag high above my head right as I reach for it.

"Are you embarra.s.sed, Rose? After everything we've shared?" He shakes his head, then glances down at the small pile of lace in his palm. "I thought you weren't a big believer in panties. You weren't last night."

I hate him. Making fun of me, throwing my underwear around on a public street. G.o.d, it's so embarra.s.sing. "Give them back." I hold out my empty hand, clutching the rest of my new panties in my other hand behind my back.

"Say please." He smirks. I usually hate when guys smirk at me but for whatever awful reason, this guy looks particularly hot while smirking.

"No." I scowl.

"Then you won't get your new panties."

We stare at each other for a long, heat-filled moment. People are still pa.s.sing us by. We're on the sidewalk, for G.o.d's sake, and fighting over my new underwear. This is the stupidest thing ever. I don't need to deal with this c.r.a.p.

"Fine," I finally say. "Keep them as a memento." I turn and walk away, one last time.

And this time, he doesn't follow me.

Chapter Eight.

Caden

I followed her, though she didn't see me. Feisty little thing, calling me out on my s.h.i.+t. No one ever does that. I get away with everything. h.e.l.l, I'm a criminal. I steal jewelry for a living and I've yet to be caught. I'm either extremely lucky or extremely good.

I'm going with the former mixed with a hint of the latter.

It's easy to believe the lies I tell myself. I staked her out because I want another chance at that necklace. That's why I'm here. That's why I found her, why I'm following her.

But deep down inside, I know that's not the truth. I'm here because I wanted to see her again. Talk to her. Touch her. Kiss her ...

It feels like a battle of wills every time I interact with Rose and I like that. She feels like a challenge. And there is nothing that I appreciate more than a challenge. No woman has ever truly interested me because they always feel so d.a.m.n easy.

But not Rose. She gives off mixed signals. I know she's attracted to me. Last night I'd barely touched her, kissed her, and the minute I had my fingers between her thighs, she was drenched. That had been hot.

Everything about her is hot, even when she's mad. And I definitely make her mad. I almost enjoy it.

Fine. I do enjoy it. Around her I feel like a twelve-year-old antagonizing the girl he has a wild crush on. I've turned into a stupid twelve-year-old giving the girl he likes endless grief. I lose all my cool when I'm around her.

The moment she walked away-again-I let her go. But I never let her out of my sight. I kept my distance as I followed her, tracking her every movement, and she stopped at a lot of the shops, wandering in for a few minutes before she came back out empty-handed. She'd stashed the remaining new panties in her tiny purse, and every once in a while I'd see a flash of turquoise lace peek out of the top of the black leather. Or neon pink lace.

Looks like Rose has a fondness for bright colors.

I tell myself I'm still following her so I can get to the necklace. The f.u.c.king necklace I can't forget about, though the woman who wore it looms in my mind much more than the stupid necklace. That's what I should be focusing on. That's what I tell myself.

But I want the woman too. I want the woman more.

After almost an hour of aimless wandering, she finally makes her way to a hotel. She's staying at the Covent Garden Hotel, how original. If I'd had a single cell in my brain, I would have gone there first and just waited for her. Nigel had mentioned casually last night that Rose was staying at a hotel near the pub.

Increasing my pace I catch up with her without being too obvious, not wanting her to notice me yet. She strides across the street, looking this way and that, and I follow after her once she enters the lobby, eager to reach her before she ends up in the elevator and I can't find her.

I'm intent on getting into her room. She wants me. I want her. This is an easy second chance to snag that necklace. Why are we playing these games anyway?

You're more to blame than she is.

Yeah. No s.h.i.+t.

I enter the lobby of the Covent Garden Hotel and see her standing at the registration desk, talking with two male employees. They've got dopey smiles on their faces, nodding and "yes, miss-ing" her over every single thing she's saying.

Suckers. She's got them wrapped around her finger, just like that.

It almost infuriates me, because I feel just as suckered as they are.

"Thank you for your help," she murmurs just as I come up behind her. She turns, stopping short when she finds me standing in front of her, and that cute scowl is back. Her eyes narrow and her mouth forms into a little sneer. "Not you again."

"I wanted to return these to you," I say solemnly as I thrust the bag toward her, the lingerie store's name blatant on the side. The hotel employees are doing their best to act uninterested, but they're watching us. I can feel their gazes, sense their curiosity.

The scowl vanishes and is now replaced with faint embarra.s.sment. "Um, thanks," she says, her voice soft as she takes the bag from me. Our fingers brush, and the heat that shoots through me at her touch makes my knees f.u.c.king weak. It's not just electric. It's magnetic. Like we're drawn to each other despite everything else. We can't fight it.

I don't want to fight it.

Rose feels it too. I can tell by the way her eyelids waver, the little shuddery breath that escapes her. She's affected by me.

Good. She affects me, too. I'm tired of wasting time.

"Hey, you want to-" Before I can come up with something to say she's cutting me off, interrupting me as if she knows what I'm asking her.

"That would be great. Just-let me drop this off in my room first." She lifts the bag and then starts walking, leaving me no choice but to follow after her.

She doesn't protest. Doesn't say a thing, doesn't send me a look as she stops at the elevator doors and hits the up b.u.t.ton. "You really want me to come with you?" I ask, my voice low.

Rose nods, still not looking my way. "Please."

Triumph surges through me when the elevator doors slide open and I follow her inside, waiting until those doors slide shut. I turn and grab hold of her by the waist, the shopping bag falling to the floor as she wraps her arms around my neck and tilts her head back, ready for my kiss.

But I don't give it to her. Not yet.

Instead I touch her face, skim my fingers down her cheek, along her jaw. Her eyelids flutter and she exhales shakily. "You followed me," she whispers. "Again."

"I did." There's no point in denying it. "I can't stay away from you."

"My own personal stalker."

"I wouldn't call what I'm doing stalking." I touch her lips, the soft plumpness sending a surge of heat straight to my c.o.c.k. I want those lips wrapped tight around my d.i.c.k. Whitney offered me a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b last night when we came home from the pub, but I turned her down. After walking away from Rose with aching blue b.a.l.l.s, I still didn't want one. At least, I didn't want one from Whit.

The only person who could have given me satisfaction is this woman right here, in my arms.

"What would you call it, then?" she asks. I'm tracing her perfectly shaped mouth, my finger getting caught between her lips, and I can feel the damp heat of her tongue.

f.u.c.k.

"Hot pursuit." I slide my finger deeper into her mouth and she accepts it, circling it with her tongue. "Show me what you can do." My voice drops about ten octaves with my request.

She furrows her eyebrows and pulls my finger out of her mouth. "Show you what I can do with what?"

"Pretend it's my c.o.c.k in your mouth," I whisper. "Show me what you would do."

Her eyes darken, honey gold and electrifying as she grabs hold of my wrist and draws my entire finger into her mouth, right to the base. She holds it there, her gaze never leaving mine, her tongue sliding over my skin, her entire mouth sucking and then she's withdrawing, dragging her tongue along the side of my finger before she gets to the tip and sucks just that part back into her mouth.

"Jesus," I mutter, my skin tight and hot, my c.o.c.k straining. She smiles and I trace that pretty smile with my damp finger, her hand dropping away from my wrist at the exact time the elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open.

"Come on," she says, and I grab the bag from the floor before I follow after her, my blood pumping, my head spinning. Everything inside of me is a jangling, out-of-control mess, clamoring to get at her and strip her clothes off, feast on her naked flesh, sink deep inside her hot, wet body and lose myself. Forget about the world.

At least for a little while before I get back to business and grab that d.a.m.n necklace.

Rose tries to open the door with shaky fingers, shoving the key card in again and again, but the light flashes yellow every time, making her curse. I gently push her out of the way and pull the key out of the slot, then shove it back in slowly.

The light turns green.