Looks Are Deceiving

Excerpt:
She watched his suspicious green eyes roam the cocoa-and-white living room appreciatively. “Greg’s got some pad here.”

His vision fixed on the cases of wine stacked beside the airport-lights sound system and flat-screen TV embedded into the wall. One would’ve thought the electronics would draw a thief’s eye.

This one pointed the gun at the cases of wine, then back to her. “That’s what I’m looking for.”

“You’re holding me at gunpoint for wine? Some alcohol problem you have.”

The man cast her an angry snarl. “Shut up. Don’t be a problem, and you won’t get hurt.”

“I can do that,” she replied, keeping her hands in his sight as not to illicit a bullet. No reason to earn a gunshot wound. She was about to take his gun away, anyway.

Over the man’s shoulder, Elissa spotted the front door easing open, and she saw Greg stick his head in. He eyed the man, then slid back noiselessly behind the door. His sudden appearance changed everything.

Now Elissa wasn’t sure how to keep everyone from injury.

The stranger ordered her, “You’re going to pick up those cases and put them in the trunk of my car.”

Elissa shook her head, gambling, now hoping to exclude his gun from the action entirely, avoiding any physical struggle altogether. He’d need to put down the gun to pick up the wine. “I can’t lift them. I tried earlier.”

Her assailant gave her a nasty grimace. “What do you mean you can’t lift them? They can’t be over thirty pounds.”

She shrugged her shoulders, taking in his posture, sizing up his every move, an eye out for some advantage she could exploit or an unexpected aggressive motion. “I have a bad back. I’m bound to drop a case and shatter the bottles.”

Clearly frustrated, the man tucked the gun into his holster on his belt, exactly what she needed him to do. Then he grabbed hold of her upper arm and hauled her over to the window where he ripped the pull cord from the glass door’s mini-blinds. In his rough handling, she spotted Greg skulking through the front door to duck behind the island of the kitchen.

The wine thief shoved her to the floor at the metal-and-glass coffee table, and he wrapped the cord around her wrists without a fight from her. She focused on keeping her assailant’s attention on her so he wouldn’t pick up the small sounds of Greg passing over the tiled kitchen floor.

“You know, you can get help for the alcohol problem,” she said, watching over the gunman’s shoulder as Greg surfaced on the other side of the island and slipped into a door beyond.

“I know a few places you could get help. You just really have to commit to it—”

“Shut up.”

“Got ya, shutting up.”

Having tied her rather insecurely to the table, the armed man then grabbed hold of two of the stacked cases, one atop the other, and he hauled the cases outside. Wordless, she watched Greg slip from the bedroom, a Glock-22 semi-auto in his hand, and he sneaked back into the kitchen to press himself against the refrigerator, shielded by an entranceway wall.

Elissa took a deep breath and thought up a quick prayer. Why would someone, an armed someone, show up at a home to steal three cases of wine, passing up the nicest home theater system she’d ever seen?

When the man stepped back into the house for the third case, he passed the wall Greg hid behind. In one smooth motion, Greg stepped into the hall and pressed the muzzle to the back of the man’s head.

“Don’t move,” Greg told him, stopping the man cold, and the look of surprise on the gunman’s face was profound. “And I won’t shoot you. Move a muscle, and your brains are going to be my new decorating scheme.”



* * * *



“Are you sure there are no holes in your privacy fence?”

“I’m aware of several rather large holes, right at sight level.”

She snickered against his shoulder as he swept her body with his hands in a slow exploration, snapping the spandex from her body as if it violated his sacred territory. The small jeopardy of being discovered titillated her.

“This must go. It’s in my way.”

Elissa giggled, and Greg peeled away the bathing suit, leaving her to cross her arms over her nudity. Before she could suspect his evil motives, Greg snatched her up by her waist and tossed her onto the inflated mattress floating on the water. Elissa shrieked from the surprise, and she smacked a hand over her mouth to keep from drawing the attention of the crowd next door.

He leapt onto the mattress beside her, rocking the boat and causing another explosive laughter from both of them that probably blended into the neighborhood noise.

“Sh,” Greg whispered at her feet, his tone sneaky. “They might hear us.”

Just gazing down her unclothed body at him caused Elissa a cascade of sensations like a waterfall spinning a paddle wheel. The setting sun made the water droplets sliding down his toasty skin sparkle. He looked reckless, and oh-so libidinous. She had to lick her lips, dried from the moisture of her body shifting downward.

An intent gleam in his eye, he started at her ankles, straddled her legs and began a slow crawl up her body like a predator trapping his dinner.

“It might not be a great idea to make love to me out here, Greg.”

He passed her hips, his face inches away from the curls of her sex, placed a feather kiss there, then another kiss on her bellybutton as he crawled upward. The way his dark-chocolate eyes caressed her so hungrily made her ache.

“I think it’s the best idea in the world.”

“After last night, I can testify to the fact that I can’t keep quiet.”

His smile ripened into a full-fledged passion for risk, and he paused to stare at her breasts. “God, I know. It was music to my ears.”

Elissa sucked her lips into her mouth, distrusting herself not to giggle aloud. He was so damned cute. If Greg were the Devil, she’d consider a life of sin.

“Irresistible impulse …” she pled aloud in a long moan.

Fully above her now, he smiled, badness and debauchery dancing in his eyes. His hair was wild, his gaze anticipating and eager.

“You seemed like such a good boy when I met you.”

Greg descended on her, filled his mouth with her unshielded breast, sending her hands into his hair and causing her to arch and moan and lose all reason. Her knees rose to hug his torso, pressing him against her in case he tried to get away.

“Shh,” he demanded around her nipple, the movement of his lips and rush of his breath on her wet flesh sending more bliss and tension through her.

“People might hear you, Elissa.... You’re not supposed to cry out, you bad girl. But I’m going to make you do it, anyway.”

He descended on her other breast and suckled her until only iron discipline kept her from uttering desperate moans. He made her body ache for him. She caught herself in a tight grip of his damp black hair and had to release him several times at the realization, but he didn’t let up on her at all. He did make her cry out more than once beyond her suppression, no matter how much being heard would’ve embarrassed her.

Greg sat up on his knees between her open knees, his power position. Feeling the roll of the water beneath them added to the intoxication. Seeing him and his conquest smile between her legs rocked her with another shudder.

He stroked the sensitive flesh of her inside thighs. “You should feel the heat coming off you, Elissa. You’re scorching hot.”

His mere contact in intimate places put her just where he left off when the doorbell rang, on the verge of starvation for him. She didn’t know how she’d stay quiet enough not to draw the curiosity of the party guests. She couldn’t stay quiet when he touched her like this.

“You could take me into the bedroom now,” she muttered between rushed breaths.

Greg shook his head in abject denial, no mercy in his eye. His hand slid to the apex of her thighs, and his thumb stroked through the hair there, sending a new shiver through her. “Not gonna happen that way.”

She felt his finger slide down the folds of her pussy with sadistic delay, then he penetrated her, drawing another gasp she couldn’t hold back, and he pressed upward in a long glide all the way into her, making her shiver, whimper, and pant.