To Tempt a Thief 1 (The Billionaire and the Thief) Read online

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  About To Tempt a Thief

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  TO TEMPT A THIEF

  PART ONE

  By Sylvia Pierce

  Copyright © 2015 Sylvia Pierce

  SylviaPierceBooks.com

  All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotations used for promotional or review purposes, no part of this book may be recorded, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the express permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, organizations, brands, media, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ABOUT TO TEMPT A THIEF

  Temptation can be deadly.

  For art thief Arianne Holbrook, discretion isn’t just a job requirement—it’s what keeps her alive. So when a hot, mysterious Brit catches her red-handed at an exclusive auction in New York, she’s got one shot at saving her cover: seduction.

  Too bad his masterful touch leaves her aching to be tamed, again and again.

  In the boardroom or the bedroom, billionaire social media tycoon Jared Blackwell is always in control, and commanding the devious brunette’s dark pleasure is no exception. But behind that dirty mouth, his submissive little cat burglar hides dangerous secrets.

  Secrets another man would kill to protect.

  Jared thrives on high-risk ventures. But when it comes to love, does this dominant alpha have what it takes to tempt a thief?

  ** Cliffhanger alert! ** Admit it, readers: just like Arianne, you’re a little bit sassy, a little bit naughty, and you love being teased! To Tempt a Thief is a 3-part serialized romance series designed to leave you begging for the ultimate climax. Waiting is hard, but Jared is one panty-melting, dirty-mouthed, red-hot alpha who promises to reward your patience…

  This series is dedicated to Stacey, who told me so.

  PROLOGUE

  UNDER NORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES, Jared Blackwell wasn’t a killer.

  But nothing about his circumstances was normal anymore. Not the corporate spies nosing around his personal life. Not the entire housekeeping staff quitting on the same day. Not the reporters harassing Jared’s parents in London, or the ones he’d chased from his Tribeca offices this morning.

  And certainly not the beautiful woman handcuffed to his bed.

  “Don’t scream,” he commanded.

  The woman stilled, giving him a silent nod.

  “Good girl.” He removed his hand from her mouth and smothered her with a hungry kiss. Eagerly she parted her lips, coaxing his tongue with deep, soft strokes.

  Jesus. How much longer could he wait? His cock was already rock hard between her thighs, her primal heat urging him closer with every breath. Having her spread out and vulnerable in his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of black thigh-high stockings and those silver handcuffs…

  No. He’d already lost too much control on her account, risking everything just to keep her safe.

  Not that he could share that secret with her. She’d only try to stop him, or worse—take care of things on her own.

  Not an option. Jared might not have trusted her, but he certainly couldn’t let the woman get herself killed.

  With a finger he stroked her cheek, trailing down to her jaw, her collarbone, the soft round of her breast. Everything about her was gorgeous as hell, and twice as dangerous. Even handcuffed, she was trouble—a temptation he couldn’t seem to deny himself, despite the warnings in his head.

  As if reading his thoughts, she arched up against him, rubbing the head of his cock with her hot, wet flesh, desperate to be fucked.

  “Enough.” He rolled her swollen nipple between a thumb and forefinger, a warning as well as a promise. “You’re not in charge tonight, love. Is that perfectly clear?”

  “Perfectly clear, sir.” Her smile was wicked as she imitated his English accent. “Thank you for the reminder.”

  Lucky for her she’s so damn sexy when she talks back.

  “I’m willing to overlook the insubordination,” he teased, buzzing his lips over her earlobe. “But my, my. You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?”

  “Maybe.” Her cheeks flushed. “What will you do to me?”

  He ran his fingers along the soft undersides of her arms, his touch as light as his whisper. There were lots of things he wanted to do to her—things she’d never allow. Like whisk her off to London, find a little cottage by the sea, and hide her away from the men who wanted to hurt her.

  But for now, he returned his attentions to her flesh.

  “I’m going to do something that will make you writhe,” he said. “But you won’t move. You’ll remain utterly still for me until I command otherwise. If you disobey me again, you’ll be punished.”

  A challenge flashed in her eyes. But despite her saucy mouth, her games, she loved submitting to him.

  “Close your eyes,” he said, scooping an ice cube from the Champagne bucket on the night table. “And gorgeous? Remember what I said.”

  “What?” she breathed.

  “Don’t you fucking move.” He pressed the ice to her swollen clit, driving his fingers deep inside.

  “Fuck! Oh, fuck yes!” Her eyes opened wide, and then fluttered closed again in sheer pleasure. Despite his thrusting fingers, the ice dripping between her legs, she kept still. Her ability to control her reaction for him was impressive, but not surprising. The chemistry between them had always been off the charts. Their bodies had seemed wired for each other’s touch from the start, and they’d only gotten more in tune with every hot, steamy moment together.

  Jared didn’t want it to end.

  “Does that feel good?” he asked.

  She moaned as he teased her clit with the ice cube, then ran it up her abdomen and belly, lapping at the water with his tongue. Her skin was so soft, so sweet. He couldn’t get enough of her.

  Judging from her pebbled nipples and the glistening wetness between her thighs, she couldn’t get enough of him, either.

  She pursed her lips in a sexy pout. “Please,” she said, tugging at the handcuffs. “Don’t stop touching me.”

  The desperation in her voice made his cock throb.

  “Tell me what you need, love,” he whispered, nipping at her earlobe. Even more than dominating her flesh, this was the part he enjoyed most—hearing her confess to all the things she wanted done to her, all the ways he could make her come.

  Could make her his.

  “I need you,” she panted. “I need your cock inside me, fucking this tight, hot pussy.”

  God, that dirty mouth.

 
; “You’re still hot?” he asked.

  “So hot,” she breathed. “You make me so hot, I can’t help it.”

  “I really thought we took care of that.” He plunged his fingers deeper inside, reveling in her superheated flesh. “No. I’m afraid that won’t do at all.”

  He reached for another ice cube, her eyes widening in anticipation as he held it just out of reach.

  “Please?” she whispered.

  “Shh. No more talking.” He slipped the ice cube between her lips. “Suck.”

  With a groan that made his balls ache, she followed his orders, wrapping her luscious pink lips around the ice, working it with her tongue. Slowly he pulled the dripping cube from her mouth and trailed it down her chin, the hollow of her throat, between her breasts, her belly, her hipbone, just inside her creamy thigh.

  “Yes,” she said, her hips arching toward his touch as he traced the outer edge of her pussy, slick with melted ice and her delicious juices. Her hips thrust faster, wilder, but he didn’t punish her for disobeying him now—he loved watching her writhe under his masterful touch, anticipating her every desire as he slipped the ice in and out of her cunt, teasing her with cool, slippery strokes.

  “Fuck,” she breathed, straining against the cuffs. “That feels amazing. Everything you do to me feels amazing.”

  Holding the ice above her, he let the water drip onto her clit, his fingers following the runoff into her exquisite pussy.

  Mine.

  Jared was desperate to spear her, but she was worth a little discomfort. He took so much pleasure in making her wait, in the sweet agony of her moans. Soon he’d send her over the edge, following her right down to the depths.

  But not with his fingers.

  And not until he’d made her beg.

  When the last sliver of ice melted, he put his face between her muscular thighs, his lips pressing feather-light kisses against her clit. It was cool and wet, but swollen with desire, aching for the friction of his touch.

  She rocked her hips to get closer. “I’m almost there! I need you inside me right now!”

  “No, darling.” He sighed against her flesh, warming it with his breath as he grasped her thighs and pinned her to the bed. “You’ve been a bad girl, and now I’m taking a taste before I fuck you the way a bad girl deserves.”

  He spread her legs, indulging in her heady, musky taste. She whimpered as he licked her, bucked as he swirled his tongue against her sensitive nub.

  “I can’t wait!” she cried. “Ohgodohgod I—”

  “You can.” He pulled back, slapping her hard on the thigh. “And you will.”

  He landed another light slap against her clit, and then kissed her thigh, moving up to her breasts. He took one in his mouth, grazing her nipple with his teeth, thrilled at how well he knew her body, her limits, the line between pleasure and pain that drove her to ecstasy. As she tugged against her restraints, he bit her, then sucked, laving the stiff peak with his tongue.

  In the blue moonlight of the bedroom, her skin glistened with sweat, salty on his lips. Everything about her was slippery and so, so ready for him.

  Fuck.

  Screw control. He was the one who couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Open your legs,” he ordered. Her knees relaxed and spread wide again, inviting him in.

  He lifted her legs over his shoulders and slid into her, burying himself to the fucking hilt. They’d taken it slow and sweet all afternoon, their only respite a short break to cook dinner, but now he gave it to her how she liked it best, hard and fast. He drove into her again and again as her perfect breasts bounced before him, her breathing wild and erratic, the friction between them so hot and intense, it was like nothing he’d ever felt.

  “Arianne,” he growled, low and guttural. She felt so fucking good, so hot and wet for him. Thank God he’d already brought her so close to ecstasy; he couldn’t hold out much longer.

  She was losing control too, her whole body taut with anticipation, aching for the release he’d so far denied her.

  Still buried deep inside her, he rocked forward against her clit, pounding her harder with every stroke, thrusting to get closer, deeper. Her pussy clenched around his shaft.

  “Fuck, Ari.” With his next command, he spanked her again. “Come for me. Now.”

  “Jared!” She shattered beneath him, moaning his name as her pussy gripped his thick cock, milking him until he fell right over the edge with her.

  He collapsed on top of her, both of them panting and spent.

  “Free me,” she said, wriggling beneath him, her face glowing with sheer contentment.

  Jared unlocked the cuffs and released her from bondage, massaging her arms and wrists. She felt so soft, so vulnerable beneath his strong hands, it damn near broke his heart to think that anything bad had ever happened to her.

  That anything bad could still happen to her.

  He closed his eyes and buried his face against her neck, calming himself with the silky feel of her hair, the scent of her skin, the gorgeous, post-sex sweetness that was all Ari.

  God, she’d told him so many lies. He still didn’t understand how her life had gotten so far off track. All he knew was that he’d gotten so fucking tangled up in it, there was no escape for him now, no way out of her web.

  Even if he was being played.

  But as mad as she’d made him, it was a pale shadow to what he’d felt at the threat of someone taking her from him. In his thirty-four years of life, Jared had never known pure, true rage before he met Arianne. Never felt with such stone-cold certainty that he could cause permanent, physical harm to another human being until he’d been faced with the possibility of losing her.

  He couldn’t bear it.

  “Who are you, love?” He mouthed the words against her neck, knowing she couldn’t hear him. He already knew the answer, anyway.

  Arianne Holbrook was a criminal. A liar. A thief.

  He’d guessed as much on the first night they’d met.

  But in the month since, she’d become something else, too.

  The woman he’d fallen desperately, stupidly, recklessly in love with.

  His heart banged in his chest, as much a traitor as his cock, that greedy prick growing hard between her thighs again.

  This woman…

  Ari had acquiesced to his darkest carnal fantasies, sharing her own in turn. He’d demanded her obedience, commanded her pleasure, claimed her willing flesh. She was his, and she’d given him everything he’d ever dreamed of, everything he asked for.

  Except for the thing he wanted most. The thing he’d take from her tonight, no matter what the price.

  Her secrets.

  That’s what it was going to take to keep her safe. To protect her.

  Certain she’d finally drifted off to sleep, Jared grabbed the cell phone from the night table drawer, and sent the text he’d been dreading all week.

  Meet me at the office in 1 hour. Come alone.

  CHAPTER ONE

  One Month Earlier

  THIS JOB WAS killing her sex life.

  It had been so long since Arianne Holbrook’s body was commanded by the kind of strong, rough hands she craved that her mind was now serving up fantasies over every cute guy in sight.

  At the moment the cute guy in sight was a slightly-too-young-but-hot-enough-to-ignore-it bartender at a private art auction on Manhattan’s Central Park West.

  “Sapphire and tonic?” The bartender set the drink before her, smiling politely as their fingertips brushed. “Will that be all?”

  “For now.” Unless you’ve got a pair of cuffs and a blindfold back there. Ari slid a twenty across the bar and returned his smile, but he was already tending to the next guest, oblivious to both her flirtatious gaze and her generous tip.

  No matter. It was Davidson’s money. She could afford to be loose with the boss’s cash as long as she did the job required.

  Get in. Get the intel. Get out.

  And above all, don’t get noticed. />
  It was the “don’t get noticed” part that was doing a number on her sex life. Even if the bartender had responded to her innuendos, it didn’t matter. Ari wasn’t allowed to let it go beyond her imagination. A momentary distraction was one thing, but she definitely couldn’t risk making an impression.

  A decade with her father’s crew—hundreds of scenes just like this one—and Ari had never screwed up, never once lingered too long or left behind any damning evidence.

  You’re a phantom, Ari, her father had said on the night of her nineteenth birthday, just after her first real score. They didn’t even know you were there.

  It was just a few grand in jewelry from a political fundraiser in Sleepy Hollow, nothing like the art scenes she worked today. But it meant something: after years of being treated like the cute team mascot by her father’s people, she’d finally passed the test.

  At nineteen it made her feel like a superhero, like she’d grow up to be this unstoppable badass in black leather and red lipstick, a woman who could crack a safe, defuse an alarm, and seduce a man into revealing his deepest secrets, all without breaking a sweat.

  Now, her father dead five years and counting, it just made her feel like a ghost.

  As the guest chatter and piped-in classical music blended into a din, Ari sipped the cocktail, her features projecting the cool detachment of the one-percenters that frequented these private auctions. It wasn’t hard to look the part, especially with her off-the-books expense account keeping her salon-polished and stylish. Tonight she wore her chestnut hair in a loose twist at the base of her neck, light on the makeup, and a strapless navy blue cocktail dress.

  If anyone were questioned about her later, they’d recall only a classy woman in a dark dress, a splash of tasteful yet unremarkable jewelry. Calm and unconcerned, totally in control.