Love Thief Read online

  He appeared shocked. “What did I do? And I know you’re angry, but I beg you not to talk like that in front of her.”

  Charmaine scowled harder. “You lured her into playing a game.”

  “What do you mean lured? I asked you. You said yes, and I assume you downloaded it.”

  “No, I didn’t. I didn’t talk to you at all.”

  He paled and glanced at Amaya. Now the sneaky miss was rocking back and forth, looking everywhere but at them and singing some weird song about a purple turtle. Charmaine wasn’t going for it.

  “Amaya, look at me.”

  The little girl whimpered and looked up.

  “Can you read?”

  “Of course.”

  Charmaine looked at Elliot, but she was glad to note he seemed just as surprised. Four-year-olds didn’t all know how, so her thinking Amaya was unusual wasn’t crazy. Plus, they were in the middle of summer, so Charmaine hadn’t had the opportunity to learn where Amaya was in school. Was she even old enough for school? This was another area she was lacking. They seemed to be endless.

  “Show me,” Charmaine insisted and held out her phone.

  Amaya pointed. “Amaya…like…game.”

  “Ah, it’s making sense now.” Elliot looked proud as if he had something to do with the girl’s smarts. “She can read a few words, and if she’s played on electronics before, it’s only natural to click a link. The game was simple enough for her to figure out how to play it on her own.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that you got her to play it. I don’t know how much else you’ve done or what you planned.”

  This time he appeared offended. “Is that what you think of me?”

  “I don’t know you very well.”

  He said nothing and started to turn away. “I won’t contact you again unless you—”

  “Uh-uhn, you’re not getting off that easy.” She grasped the back of his shirt and pulled. He stopped moving. “You’re going to prove to me you’re not some weirdo.”

  “How am I going to do that?”

  “We want dinner and a movie!”

  Confusion transformed his face. “I didn’t expect that, but I’m willing.”

  Charmaine didn’t know what she was doing and why she would get him to take them both out. The fact was she had seen the hurt in his eyes. Elliot was trying to help her. He’d gotten out of his bed in the middle of the night and run to the store for her. His pointers at different times turned out to be right on the money from what she had been reading about kids. Then she had accused him of being a pervert when both instances, Amaya was the one in the wrong. Well—both her and Amaya. In the end, it was her job to watch the girl, and she had failed—again.

  * * * *

  Elliot was funny just like Amaya had said. He kept Charmaine laughing, and for a while, she let herself enjoy their time together. Just a little.

  “Didn’t I tell you ladies that movie was going to be good?” Elliot asked, grinning.

  “Stop acting like you filmed it yourself,” she teased. “It was all right.”

  He offered a lame frown, and Amaya giggled. “I liked it. The frog was silly. He said…” And off Amaya went telling them every detail of the movie as if they hadn’t been there to see it for themselves. Elliot listened, nodding as she spoke and commenting patiently. The man actually did like kids. He’d make an awesome dad.

  Quit thinking that kind of stuff, Charmaine, and get your head out of the clouds.

  Elliot unlocked his car doors and opened one for Amaya. She climbed in. “Hold on, Charmaine. Let me get that for you.”

  “I can get it.”

  “Please.”

  She sighed and waited. He jogged around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. “You know chivalry is dead, right?”

  “Never got the memo.”

  “Stubbornness is alive and kicking.”

  “We both got several copies of that one.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “Dummy.”

  He winked.

  They were on the road before he spoke again. “Charmaine, have you considered getting her tested?”

  Charmaine glanced over her shoulder. Amaya had already nodded off. “Tested for what? She seems healthy.”

  “No, I mean she’s intelligent. She might even be advanced for her age.”

  “She knows a few words. I think maybe Stacia or Mama taught her. It might be from her father’s side. My mother told me I was still just staring at pictures with no interest in reading when I was five. Stacia hated books from day one. Amaya is different.”

  “You’re right, and it would be great to know if she’s truly different.”

  Charmaine hesitated. She had no idea where to start or that they had such a thing. She and Stacia had been regular students. After a while, Stacia lost interest in school and kind of skated by until she got her high school diploma. They probably issued it just to get rid of the headache that was Stacia Poe.

  “I could find out what’s involved for you,” he offered.

  She stared out the window. “Why should you care, Elliot?”

  “I see a need in front of me, and I want to do something to help.”

  “A need?” she snapped. “Look, we’re not your charity project, okay? We’re fine. I’m not a perfect mother, but I’m all Amaya’s got. I’m doing okay by her, and we don’t need you to fix us!”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I apologize.” He reached for her, but she shook his hand off.

  “Take us home, please.”

  “Charmaine.”

  “Drop it, Elliot.”

  He drove back to their apartment building, and Charmaine struggled to get Amaya out and into her arms. Elliot moved as if he would help, but she tossed him a look that said he would draw back nubs if he tried. He retreated a couple steps, and she stumbled into the building and up the elevator to her place. After she lowered Amaya into bed and removed her shoes and clothes, she covered the little girl and dropped onto the couch. For the first time, Charmaine didn’t feel like working on her project, and she turned over and dropped off to sleep. All through the night, she told herself to get up and get into bed, but her body refused to move and her head never stopped dreaming of Elliot.

  Chapter Six

  Would the brownies work? Charmaine wasn’t sure, but they were the only treat she knew both how to make and that were in her house. She kept a full refrigerator now and stocked cabinets so Amaya could eat well. Charmaine’s cooking skills weren’t terrible, but she was no Betty Crocker either. She knew where her limitations were, and they included the project Amaya’s daycare stuck her with.

  “Daycare,” she grumbled, annoyed. “Do they think they’re a school? And it’s freaking summer time!”

  Elliot’s door opened. He peered out into the hall to gaze up and down it. “Who are you arguing with?”

  “Myself.” She shifted from one foot to the other and chewed her lip. “Um, these are apology brownies.”

  He gazed at the plate and had the audacity to poke at the foil. “Are you any good?”

  “For real?”

  He raised his eyebrows, amusement in the green depths. “I don’t want to be poisoned.”

  “You know I don’t like you, right?”

  The bastard’s grin grew broader, and he leaned against the doorframe. His chest flexed a little behind one of those stretchy T-shirts. Black was a yummy color on him, but the sleeveless design made him look thuggish, so out of character. She bet he got a kick out of the look and posed in front of the mirror. “I thought you were over here to say sorry. I’m not feeling it. And why do you look amused all of a sudden?”

  “Me?” She shook the thoughts from her head. “No, I really am sorry, Elliot. You’ve been like a friend, and I brushed you off.”

  “Like a friend?”

  “Or something.”

  “Aunt Charmaine,” Amaya yelled from next door. Her hair was a tangled mess, undone. She’d gotten into it earlier. Amaya h
ad decided an hour ago, it had to go. “Did he say he’ll do it?”

  She’d cut Amaya’s hair after she cut out her tongue. Charmaine sighed in longsuffering.

  “Do what?” Elliot asked. “So this ‘apology’ is about getting me to help with something else?”

  Charmaine shoved the plate into his hands and turned to walk away. “Forget it.”

  She heard his step behind her and glanced back. He was barefoot. Elliot had nice white man feet, as silly as that was, pale skin, big, neat and manly. She liked them for some reason. There wasn’t much physically anyone could hate about the guy.

  “Why are you following me?”

  “A wholly mammoth is gesturing,” he quipped.

  She wrinkled her nose at him in confusion. He pointed, and she turned to see Amaya gesturing, excited.

  “Oh, no, wait. It’s just Amaya,” he said.

  “Haha, funny. I have to cut her hair.”

  Amaya screamed and grabbed her head. She ran into the apartment and disappeared. Charmaine heard the bathroom door slam. Charmaine took her time entering and let Elliot follow. He shut the door.

  “Are you serious about cutting her hair? It’s so beautiful.”

  “You think everything is beautiful.” Charmaine had to admit she was feeling testy. The attraction she had for him wouldn’t let go, and he always caught her at her worse. For once, if he could catch her being an incredible mom… it wouldn’t outweigh the crazy.

  “She doesn’t want it cut.”

  “Are you on her side?” Charmaine snatched the plate of brownies from his hand as he bit into one and held another in his palm. She set the plate on the coffee table, and he wandered after them to sit down. “You like to make yourself comfortable here.”

  “I am. Thanks.”

  She moved behind him and hovered her hand near his hair while he obviously took in the mess they left of the living with all the construction paper, the glue, and the cardboard boxes.

  “Project day?” he guessed.

  “The two lopsided things over there are what I did. If I try again, we’ll run out of supplies. It’s getting late, and this beast is due tomorrow.”

  “How much time did you have to do it, and why?”

  “Why? No one in the universe can answer that question. How much time? Semantics. Let’s move on.”

  He chuckled. “First things first.”

  Soon, Charmaine sat side-by-side with Elliot. She held a brush in her hand. He held a comb in his. They labored together, slowly and gently, working through Amaya’s knots. When they were done, Elliot spun her around to face him. “Okay, hand on your chest like this.”

  He demonstrated, and Amaya copied him. They both held up the other hand in the air, Amaya a bit more dramatically.

  “I, Amaya Poe,” Elliot said. “Repeat.”

  “I, Amaya Poe Repeat.”

  Charmaine giggled.

  “Promise not to try to do my own hair until I’m…eleven.” He looked at Charmaine, and she shrugged. Sounded like a good number.

  Amaya repeated after Elliot.

  “Or I will get it all shaved until it’s a half inch long,” Charmaine added, “and it will be dyed purple.”

  “She might want that at eleven,” he teased.

  Amaya screeched, vibrating Charmaine’s eardrums.

  “I think we’re good,” Elliot said and rubbed his hands together. “Now the project. I’m not good at this stuff either, but I suspect anything is better than the monstrosity over there.”

  “Don’t get kicked out of my apartment,” Charmaine warned.

  Amaya and Elliot had already dismissed her and were on the floor, digging through the supplies. Charmaine glanced at them and then at her laptop, sitting closed on the table. She hadn’t worked all day. Amaya giggled about something, and Elliot’s deep voice echoed around the wide-open space. Charmaine slipped next to him and grabbed a pair of child’s scissors and some pink construction paper.

  * * * *

  Charmaine’s heart beat so hard she wondered if Elliot could hear it. His head bowed, he worked at getting a bit of dried glue off his fingers. She had such an urge to run her own fingers through his hair. When had she moved so close to him as they sat on the floor? Her body seemed to strain toward him, wanting to touch and so much more. Charmaine didn’t remember reaching, but suddenly she became aware of this silky strands of his hair as they slid between her fingers. Green eyes met hers and then lowered to her lips. She licked them. Elliot’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. Charmaine’s mind filled with thoughts of how it had felt when he kissed her. He was good, real good.

  “Elliot,” she breathed.

  “I’m not going to lie,” he said. “I’m glad Amaya’s gone to bed.”

  “W-why? Nothing’s going to happen.” Boy was she lying because she was halfway to sitting on his lap. She leaned against his chest, and their mouths didn’t touch, but his warm breath drew her closer. Elliot slid his hands down her sides to her hips and then back up. His thumbs brushed the swell of her breasts. Her nipples pebbled behind her T-shirt. She shouldn’t have worn a bra tonight.

  I’m thinking like a slut. Just once, damn it! It’s been so long.

  Elliot bypassed her lips to kiss her neck. She put her head back and let him explore with tiny kisses along her throat. A shuddering breath made her chest bump his. He moaned. “Your face is so expressive, Charmaine.”

  She drew away from him to look into his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  He tweaked a lock of her hair. “When I first saw you two years ago—”

  “Two years ago?”

  “That’s when I moved in.”

  She hadn’t noticed. “You left your parents’ place at thirty-one?”

  He chuckled. “No, this wasn’t my first apartment.”

  “Oh.”

  “I saw the loneliness.”

  She looked away. “I wasn’t lonely.”

  “It echoed mine. I wanted you so much, but I didn’t approach you right away. I took my time, but now things are different.”

  “What’s different?”

  He kissed her lips. She was lost.

  “I want you, and I’m not going to back off until you give in because I believe you want it, too. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  Elliot’s hand slid beneath her blouse, and he pushed her bra up, exposing one nipple. She gasped, arching into his touch as his palm engulfed her breast. A thumb brushed across her nipple, and the tiny peak tightened even more. He strummed her like an instrument, and she moaned, clutching at his shirt.

  “You’re driving me crazy, Charmaine,” he whispered. “I want to make love to you.”

  “I’m not stopping you.” She had gone past crazy herself, past the ability to tell him to stop. She wanted it more than anything right now, and all she could think about was the fulfillment of coming with him on top of her, any which way they could work it out.

  Elliot grasped the bottom of her T-shirt in both hands. He paused. “Yes?”

  “Yes,” she almost pleaded. He pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it away. When he leaned toward her, she laid back. He captured her lips in another kiss that sent tingles down to her core.

  Charmaine helped him out by pinching open her jeans and lowering the zipper. He wrenched his down, and she swallowed to wet a suddenly dry throat. The swollen shaft behind his boxers was killing her.

  Elliot wasn’t a little man by any means from the look of it, but she was determined to find out for herself. She jerked his boxers down, and his dick popped free to stretch toward her. Her hands refused to let such a gift go without a stroke.

  “Charmaine, baby, you’re going to make me come rubbing it like that.”

  She let his full length slide between her palms. “I thought that was the idea.”

  He dragged her hands off him and pushed her flat on the floor. When he leaned over her, and she felt his hard-on against her thigh, she cried out his name
. She was good and wet, and she jammed her pants and panties down her legs.

  Elliot leaned up enough to let her get free, but he came down heavy, and his shaft touched her opening. She lost the ability to think straight and raised her knees. Elliot sank into her wetness, and the two of them almost howled in ecstasy. Because it had been so long, her sex hurt, but the pleasure was so unbelievable, the ache meant nothing.

  Charmaine raised her hips off the floor to take more of him. He sank to the hilt, pumped in and out a few times, and pulled back.

  “No, Elliot, please,” she begged and scratched his skin.

  “Honey, I’m having a hard time,” he panted. “You’re so tight.”

  Just having him talk that way sent her lust higher. She tangled her fingers in his hair and drew his head down to her. Their tongues curled together, and their lips locked. Charmaine didn’t come up for air for as long as she could. She arched into him to drive his dick into her heat. He pulled back to withdraw, only to pound in again.

  Their bodies worked together in a smooth and sexy cadence. Charmaine wrapped her legs around Elliot’s waist and rocked with him. He braced one hand on the floor to keep all of his weight from coming down on her, but he gave her just enough to feel deliciously trapped.

  When he sat up, she reached for him, moaning. “Where are you going?”

  “Here.” He lifted her legs high so her butt rose off the floor. Then he began pounding her hard and fast, controlled movements that stole her breath but didn’t hurt. The sensations were overwhelming. She grasped at the coffee table, pushed at his chest, and begged him not to stop. Elliot leaned forward just enough so his pelvis teased her bud every time he thrust inside her. She lost it and screamed, but he slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her cry. When her orgasm eased, he moved his hand, amusement in his expression. “Good, baby?”

  She gazed at him drunkenly. Elliot slowed his invasion of her body and then sped up again. The next thing she knew she felt it, his hot seed filling her as he grunted through his release. Exhausted and satisfied for the moment, Charmaine drifted off.

  The next time she opened her eyes, the lust had worn away and reality hit. She almost screamed again but recalled Amaya. They had had sex with the little girl sleeping across the room and only the couch a barrier so she couldn’t see.