Con Artist (Breeding #6)(7)

My face floods with heat at what I’ve done and he makes a sound like he’s in pain. I feel goosebumps break out along my skin from the noise. What’s happening to me?

“I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth and you’re not going to scream. Are you?” he says.

I’m not sure if I will or not. I debate it for a moment, but then he reminds me why I shouldn’t.

“Wouldn’t want the cops showing up, would you? I might have to tell them what a naughty girl you’ve been tonight. You’ve been taking things that don’t belong to you.”

I shake my head, but I know he didn’t call the cops either. He must want something from me or maybe this is a game the bored billionaire likes to play. What I do know is I don’t want to go to jail, so it looks like I’ll be playing his game.

His hand drops from my mouth as he slowly turns me in his arms. I stare at his chest, unsure if I want to look at his face. As smug as I was about pulling one over on him, I’m still a thief. It always makes me feel shameful. It doesn’t matter if I need the money or not, I’d taken something that wasn’t mine.

“Look at me, little jaguar.”

My eyes drift up to his and when I see his cocky smile, I have the urge to knee him in the balls all over again. Only this time there isn’t anywhere for me to go. He has me caged in and the feeling should terrify me yet somehow I know he’s not going to hurt me. Maybe not physically at least. I know all too well there are other ways to hurt people.

His eyes roam over my face. “Fucking hell,” he mutters as he takes a step back away from me. “Sit.”

He points to my tiny bed, and though I thought this place was small before, now with him filling up every available inch, the place is tiny. I walk over to the bed and drop down and his eyes never leave me as I do. He’s like a predator waiting for me to try and make a run for it, knowing he could easily be on me in this small space. He caught me red handed, so there’s really no way for me to go. I’m at his mercy and again heat floods my system at the thought.

He stares down at me silently. He’s looking at me like I could disappear, or like maybe I’m not real. I shift and the heat I was feeling before has flooded down to between my thighs.

“How did you find me?” I blurt out when the silence becomes too much.

“Didn’t your father teach you to keep track of the things that are most important to you? And to always have a plan if something you value slips through your fingers?”

“No, my father didn’t teach me that.” I let my backpack slide off as I lean over and reach for his wallet that’s under my pillow. The money's gone and already in the bank, but the rest is still there. I toss it to him and he catches it easily. “My father taught me to take what I wanted.”

He throws the wallet onto the bed next to me, not bothering to open it. “I think you have something else of mine that has a little more value.”

“Maybe not if I knew your pin number.” My smartass remarks pops right out of my mouth, shocking me a little. I normally keep those thoughts to myself, but with Bennett Hughes I can’t help myself.

“Seven-four-nine-two,” he says easily. I almost believe he’s telling me the truth. He smiles and nods at me. “Try it sometime,” he adds with that cocky-ass smile again and I hate how it’s growing on me.

“Now give me what I really want.” My heart does a small flutter as my mind wonders if he’s really talking about me. I know that’s a stupid idea, so I grab my backpack and pull out the case and open it. The egg is nestled inside and he moves closer to me.

“Open it.” He nods at the egg, and I look at it and see a small latch.

I click it and it makes the egg pop open. I stare down at what looks like a band covered in diamonds. Is that a bracelet? He reaches down and picks it up. I watch as a chain drops from it and a ring dangles from it as it’s connected to the bracelet. My eyes follow the ring attached to the chain as it swings back and forth. It looks real.

He steals the opportunity to catch me off guard and his hand engulfs my forearm as he snaps the bracelet on my wrist. My head jerks up to look at him and I’m shocked at how fast he moved.

“What are you doing?” I ask in confusion.

“You’re not the only one who can be quick.”

Why would he latch the beautiful bracelet onto me? I look down again at it when I feel him sliding the ring that’s connected to it onto my finger.

“I told you. My father told me to keep track of the things I didn’t want to lose, and you, little jaguar, are hard to keep track of. I’m only making it easier for me from now on.”

I grab at the beautiful bracelet and try to pull it off, but it goes nowhere. I flip it over and look for where it locks but I don’t see anything. It's almost as if someone welded it onto me. The fit gives enough room for it to move a little without digging into me but not enough room to try and cut it off somehow. Not without hurting myself.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Bennett says and wraps his hand around my other wrist to keep me from tugging on it. “Skin this soft will damage easily and I take care of my possessions.” My mouth falls open at his comment.

“I don’t belong to you,” I hurry to say, and it's met with a deep chuckle.

He turns around and walks over to the small chair and table where I eat most of my meals. He brings the chair over in front of me and sets it down before taking a seat. It reminds me of when an adult tries to sit in a preschooler’s chair. I’m surprised the thing doesn't break under him.