Fool Me Twice_a Cartwright Brother Romance Read online

  He took a step towards me, his voice a low rumble when he spoke. “I chose you because you made my dick hard when I watched you swinging your hips on that stage.”

  That so was not the answer I was expecting. I had to clear my throat and force my voice steady before I could speak. “And I’m supposed to take comfort in that?” Despite my efforts, there was still a slight squeak to my final words.

  “Take it however you want. Just know that my dick has been thinking about your snug pussy a hell of a lot since that night. I’m kind of glad you tracked me down.” He moved a little closer, crowding my space and making it a little hard for me to focus.

  Fuck off, hormones. Don’t you dare cloud my mind. He stole from me. He made me miserable.

  “Are you trying to flatter me?”

  He tilted his head to the side, smirking. “I don’t normally sleep with the women I steal from. You were the first.” He brushed his fingers lightly against my cheek. I flinched out of the way, but not before his touch left a searing impression on my skin.

  “Then I suppose I should be thanking you, huh? What an amazing honour you bestowed upon me.” I bowed dramatically and he chuckled. “This isn’t funny, Not-Ben.”

  “It’s kind of funny. You’ve been looking for me all this time. I must’ve made a big impression.”

  “Uh, yeah. You seduced me, you drugged me, and then you robbed me. I’d say that’s a little unforgettable.”

  “That’s exactly what I did,” he said unapologetically. “Although, you kind of drugged yourself. I wasn’t going to give you the water, if you remember correctly.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I liked you. I was going to give you a pass, but you took the water and the opportunity was there. You had nice stuff.” He shrugged like that explained everything.

  “No. Why do you rob people?” The fact that he’d just said he liked me didn’t escape my attention, although adding that I had ‘nice stuff’ had thoroughly diluted the effect of such a declaration. He really has zero shame. He stole from me because he couldn’t help it. Bastard.

  For a moment, he looked at me as though he thought I was a little daft. And maybe I was, because I didn't understand how someone could feel entitled enough to take things that didn’t belong to them. I needed it spelled out for me. “Because it’s what we do. We’re the people keeping the insurance companies in business. It’s how the economy works. People buy shit and pay premiums to protect it from people like me. Then I take their shit and they get more new shit with their payout. The cycle continues.” His eyes did a slow search of my face. “I’ll bet you have a whole apartment full of nice new furniture and appliances now—a new car, new phone. Felt good buying all that shit too, didn’t it? Unpacking it all and setting it up? We didn’t hurt you. We gave you a new start.”

  “So what? You think you’re some kind of glorified Robin Hood?”

  “Duchess, I don’t give a single cent to the poor. There’s no room for sentimentality in this game.”

  “You’re glorifying what you do. That game you’re playing messes with people’s lives and makes them feel afraid in their own homes. I should just call the cops and tell them where you are so I, and all of womankind, can be done with you.” I folded my arms across my chest again, then remembered it only served to enhance my bust. I caught him looking and dropped my hands by my side once more, beyond frustrated.

  “Call them and you’ll never get your stuff back.”

  “You just told me you don’t know where it is.”

  He bowed his head until he was maybe an inch away from my face, his breath on my skin. “Doesn’t mean I can’t find out.”

  “So find out!” I stepped back so I could see him and not be so close that I was affected by him. Even sweaty from the gym, he smelled good. “Do me that one small favour. That pin is the only thing I care about getting back. I don’t give a fuck about the rest.”

  “Fine. I’ll get you the pin, and you’ll keep the cops out of it.”

  “I didn’t come here to make deals.”

  “And I’m not helping you without one.”

  “Well, that depends… Have you robbed any other lonely women lately?”

  “You consider yourself lonely?” Our eyes locked and held. I refused to dignify him with an answer. “You were my last,” he said finally. “I haven’t gone home with a woman since you. The grift was getting too hot.”

  “Well, don’t I feel special? I’m the first you fuck and the last you rob.”

  “Guess I’ll remember you in twenty years too.” With his eyes searching mine, and that ever-present smirk on his lips, I felt the air crackling between us. I wanted it to be frustration and anger, but I knew better than that—it was unbridled lust. My private parts were calling to his, saying, ‘Hey, remember me? We fit so well together.’ I clenched my pelvic floor so hard it almost sealed permanently shut.

  “Just get me the hairpin,” I whispered, “and I won’t call the cops.”

  “Deal.” He held his hand out to shake mine and confirm the pact.

  “Nate,” a male voice called out from several feet away, snapping us out of the haze we’d descended into, saving me from having to slip my hand into Nate’s.

  “I’ll be right there,” he responded, shifting so he was blocking my view. Despite his efforts, I caught sight of the guy, a slightly smaller version of the man in front of me—the older brother, I supposed. They had the same dark hair and a similar build, but the other guy seemed to have lighter eyes.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  “I’ll meet you inside,” Nate returned, more forceful that time. The other guy reluctantly headed back into the gym.

  Pressing his teeth into his bottom lip, Nate turned back to me and shook his head, biting back a grin as he studied my face. “Is it wrong that I’m totally hard for you right now?”

  I lowered my eyes and could see the bulge in his shorts. He reached down and adjusted it slightly so it wasn’t so painfully obvious. A sense of longing blossomed in my core, aching to revisit his touch. I wished that circumstances were different. That he wasn’t a thief and I wasn’t his victim. That we were just two regular people with no baggage or history at all.

  “It’s wrong,” I whispered, hating that I was still reacting to him after everything he did.

  “Doesn’t feel wrong.” He took my hand and placed it on his crotch. I didn’t even try to pull away. But, I did refrain from stroking it, so I was proud of myself for that even though my whole body shook from the memory of it inside me. I guess I really was desperate, or crazy. Or both.

  “So… ah… we have a d-deal?” I stammered, forcing myself to pull my hand back, but he just tightened his grip and held me steady, bringing his other arm around my body. “Nate, please don’t.” As I said the words, he pulled me to him, his mouth finding mine on a powerless whimper.

  He kissed me long and hard, my knees turning to jelly as his tongue pushed inside and explored. It was the most fantastic kiss, one I felt all the way to the bottom of my feet and the ends of my hair. I almost forgot to hate him, lost in the song of our bodies. But it was over too fast, my memories immediately flooding back as he set me on my feet.

  “I’ll be in touch,” he murmured against my lips as I took my own weight.

  At first, I couldn’t even speak. I just nodded, mute. I’d wanted to come to him and hold all the cards—his freedom—in my hands. Instead, he’d taken complete control, and I was dumbly letting him. And he knew it, based on the wicked grin that curved his full mouth.

  I cleared my throat and took a steadying breath, trying to find my wits again. “I’d, uh… give you my number, but I’m fairly sure you know how to find me. I’m the girl living in the apartment you cleaned out.”

  He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes dancing as if this was fun for him.

  One phone call, and I could have him locked up.

  I knew I should do it. I obviously couldn’t be truste
d to think clearly in his presence.

  “I remember.” His eyes did one last slow sweep of my body. “I remember everything.”

  “Holy hell,” I muttered, unable to stop the words from jumping out of my mouth. The things he could do to me with a look. It was sinful—criminal. What in the world was I doing getting turned on by him? I came to get my stuff, justice! And yet my attraction to him was undeniable.

  With a chuckle, he took a step back. “See you around, duchess.”

  Then he turned on the ball of his foot and jogged away.

  It took me a good ten minutes before my knees would let me walk again. But my underwear, that definitely needed changing. Damn that man.

  Chapter Seven

  To the Man Who Steals Your Heart

  “Popcorn tastes like butter-soaked cardboard when you’re watching a gastronomic adventure through France,” Alesha stated, shoving another handful of said cardboard into her mouth.

  “This makes me want to travel,” I sighed, smiling incessantly throughout the movie so far. We were watching Paris Can Wait with Diane Lane, Arnaud Viard, and Alec Baldwin. It was so simple in its storyline, but inspiring at the same time—we all spent far too much time rushing through life without experiencing it. It made me want to sell everything I owned and spend the rest of my years backpacking through Europe.

  “Me too. What is it about Frenchmen that makes them so damn sexy?” She tilted her head to the side as she studied the characters on the screen. “I mean, this guy isn’t even that great to look at, but the moment he opens his mouth, and the way he speaks… I’m getting heart palpitations.”

  “Imagine his voice in your ear, telling you what to do.” I put on my best French accent. “Oh, Leesha, I want you to remove all of your clothes and kneel on the bed with your derrière in zee air.”

  Alesha giggled so much she almost choked on a popcorn kernel. “I reckon I’d swing upside down from a chandelier if he asked me with that voice,” she said once she’d stopped coughing.

  “Maybe I should go for an Italian man. They like big women, don’t they?”

  “They have beautiful accents too. I also love Spanish accents. Oh, and Irish ones. I could listen to an Irishman read the assembly instructions for a chest of drawers and I’d be hanging on his every word.”

  “Oh yes, I’ll have to add Ireland to my list.”

  She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Are you serious about this?”

  “Travelling? Yeah, I think I am. Besides, that Contiki tour we did in our twenties, I’ve hardly been anywhere, hardly done anything. I’ve spent most of my life living in the same city and experiencing nothing. Plus, this place doesn’t feel as much like home as it used to.” I looked around my apartment, at all the new furniture that was far too modern for my taste but that I’d been forced to purchase mass-produced because my insurance payout didn’t cover the cost of my random DIY finds. My place looked like a Harvey Norman showroom.

  Sitting up a little straighter, she turned towards me. “Don’t you think you’d just be running away then? I mean, I know you’re shaken after that Ben-Nate guy came into your life and messed around with it”—I’d told her all about finding my handsome thief and how disappointed I was at my own lack of control around him—“but don’t you think you owe it to yourself to stay and sort this out? You can’t let him return the hairpin and have that be the end of it. No matter how attracted to him you are, you need to remember that he’s a criminal and he needs to be behind bars where he belongs. You have a duty to the other women he might prey on.”

  To Alesha, the world was always black and white; people were supposed to follow the rules and bad guys got thrown in prison—end of. And while I knew she was right, I also knew that snitches got stitches. I had no idea how deep Nate’s criminal affiliations really went. If I dobbed him in to the cops, who’s to say some sort of retaliation wouldn’t befall me. After all, they knew where I lived.

  “I know, Leesh. Just let me focus on getting the hairpin back, and then I’ll tell the police everything I know. But after that, I think I’m going to travel. I need a change of pace.”

  After talking some more when the movie finished, Alesha went home with a promise to go shopping with me on the weekend to buy a new outfit for the next wedding I was booked to sing at. I generally tried to match the colour scheme of the event, and this one was mauve and cream. I hoped to find a mauve dress that would suit.

  No sooner had I started cleaning up the popcorn mess and our empty Coke cans than there was a knock at my door.

  “What did you forget this time?” I asked as I pulled it open, expecting to see Alesha on the other side. She was always leaving things behind that she had to come back for. Just last week, she’d walked out and gotten to her car only to realise she’d left her keys on my counter.

  Nate leaned against the door frame, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “I don’t know about you, but I thought she’d never leave.”

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded, nerves taking flight in my belly the moment I set eyes on him. “Do you have the hairpin?”

  “Not yet.” He stood up straighter, filling the entire doorway. “But I did come with a peace offering.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  “My cock.”

  The laugh burst from my mouth before I had the chance to stop it. “Your cock? It’s a little arrogant to think I still want your cock, don’t you think?”

  He chuckled. “Oh you want it. But I was joking about that being the peace offering. I actually brought you this.” He held out a bottle of tequila, the good kind with the grub at the bottom. The last time I drank tequila, I was nineteen and at university. It was the cheap nasty stuff, and we’d been doing shots with salt and lemon. I’d been so drunk that my hangover lasted a whole week.

  “Uh, thanks?”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I don’t drink it outside a margarita, and then only when I’m out.”

  “So, make us margaritas with it.”

  “Right now? Despite the fact that I don’t have the ingredients, it’s a school night. I don’t claim to know the hours a thief keeps, but I have work in the morning.”

  “Come on, duchess. Let me inside. Have a drink with me. We’ll drink it straight if we have to.” His voice sounded so soft as it filled my ears and wrapped around me invitingly. He was sin on two legs, and anything I had to do with him was bound to lead to trouble. “Please, I drove all this way to see you. And don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t shake on our deal. We’ll drink to confirm it instead.” He flashed me a brilliant smile.

  My resolve was slipping. It was something about those eyes and that grin; they held a promise of fun and good times, and I so desperately wanted to be a good-time girl. I was so bored with the ins and outs of my life. I worked, I watched television and occasionally went out with the same people over and over again. I wanted some excitement. And excitement was standing right in front of me.

  Reaching out, I took the bottle from his hands. “Why do I feel like inviting you in is going to go bad for me?”

  “Because I’m a vampire,” he said, snapping his teeth together. “But since I’ve already been inside, there wouldn’t be much you could do to stop me.”

  “That’s true.” I stood to the side, shoving my better judgement out the window. “Try not to steal anything this time.”

  He brushed past me with a wink. “I’m not promising anything.”

  “Then walk back out the door, Nate.”

  With a laugh, he ignored me, walking into my kitchen and opening cupboards in search of glasses instead.

  Meanwhile, I was still standing by the open door. “I mean it, Nate. There is no deal unless you promise to leave my things alone this time.”

  Stopping what he was doing, he placed one hand on his heart, then held the other in the air, palm facing me. “I promise not to steal all your stuff. Scout’s honour.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “W
ere you even a Scout?”

  “Sure I was. I can build a fire and everything. Come on, duchess. These glasses aren’t going to fill themselves.”

  Pushing the door closed, I took the bottle into the kitchen and broke the seal, pouring a small amount into the two glasses. “Here,” I said, pushing his towards him. “You drink first. I can’t trust that anything coming from you isn’t drugged.”

  “That’s fair,” he replied, reaching out and downing the contents of the first glass, licking his lips when he was done. The action sent tingling feelings to my tingly bits.

  I pushed the other glass at him. “Drink that too. You’re bigger than me, so you’d need more.”

  With dancing eyes, he held the second glass up to his lips. “Trying to get me drunk so you can have your wicked way with me?”

  “I’m fairly sure that was your plan.” I tilted the bottle of tequila to prove my point.

  He downed the second drink, and I felt a surge of longing in my chest as I watched his Adam’s apple bob during the swallow. He was just so… manly. Everything about him was larger than life. He made me feel small, something I didn’t encounter often. “I’ll admit that thought did cross my mind.” He placed the glass back on the counter and I poured two more fingers.

  “Do we toast?” he asked, handing me my glass.

  Taking it, I held it halfway between my mouth and the bench. “I thought this was a drink to you finding my hairpin and me not calling the cops.”

  “I think we can do better than that.”

  “Fine. What would you like to toast to?”

  “You pick.”

  “I don’t know. I’m struggling to find the hopefulness in this situation.”

  “Why? Do I scare you, Holland?”

  I shook my head. “No. But you unnerve me. I don’t trust you.”