It Takes a Thief or Two Read online

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  Amber Quill Press

  www.amberquill.com

  Copyright ©2007 by Sherrill Quinn

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Also By Sherrill Quinn

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  Sherrill Quinn

  Amber Quill's Rewards Program

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  IT TAKES A THIEF OR TWO

  By

  SHERRILL QUINN

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  ISBN 978-1-60272-169-2

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  www.amberquill.com

  Also By Sherrill Quinn

  The Claiming

  Claiming Hannah

  Dragonfire

  Obsidian's Flame

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER 1

  "We finally got our ‘in’ with Jessie.” Brockton Phillips walked into his brother's office and plopped into the worn leather chair across from Nick's desk. “Old lady Norton wants us to check out her place."

  His twin let out a low whistle. “I've always wanted to get inside that old Victorian.” White teeth flashed in a wide grin. “The house, I mean."

  "Hmm. They say it's haunted by old man Norton.” Brock shrugged. “I don't care. I just want to get inside Jessie.” He slung one leg over the arm of the chair and slouched into the plump depths. “I know she's interested, but something keeps holding her back. I think maybe it's my record.” His gut twisted with regret over stupid things he'd done as a kid, things he couldn't undo now. Things he was afraid she wouldn't forgive.

  "She can't hold against you stuff that you did when you were fifteen.” Nick leaned his elbows on his desk. “That was twenty years ago."

  Brock rubbed a finger over the two-inch scar on the underside of his chin. “Yeah, well, I was pretty wild then.” He met his brother's gaze. “You know she grew up with an abusive father—that's why she came to live with her grandparents when she was twelve. Now that she's back in town...” He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant and seeing from Nick's expression that he wasn't pulling it off. “She probably doesn't want to take a chance with me.” He motioned to the scar. “How many other men do you suppose she knows who have scars from a knife fight?"

  Nick frowned. “But you haven't been in trouble since you were a kid. And even then you weren't beating up girls, just rival gang members. Jessie should know you'd never hurt her.” Nick lifted one dark brow. “She should know I wouldn't let you."

  Brock shot him a grim smile. He and Nick had had their fair share of skirmishes over the years, and almost always it had pretty much come to a draw. They were evenly matched, and they both knew it.

  Nick's gaze darkened, and Brock knew he was thinking about the woman they'd both wanted for years. “Besides, I was a good kid,” Nick said. “Why is she fighting me?"

  "Maybe you scare her,” Brock murmured. “You can be pretty intense at times, you know."

  Nick's brows shot up. “I can be intense? You've got to be kidding me. You're the definition of intensity, especially once you've decided you want something. It's like trying to steal a gazelle from a lion.” He leaned back in his chair. “Good thing you don't mind sharing with me."

  "Some things I don't mind sharing. And it's not like we have much of a choice.” At the thought of what the two of them would like to do with sweet Jessica Norton, his cock thickened, elongating against his thigh.

  "Cut it out,” Nick muttered, shifting in his seat.

  With the bond the two of them shared—one that went far beyond that of normal siblings—Brock knew he was broadcasting his lust to his twin. It happened whenever either of them experienced strong emotions. But he was helpless to stop it. Ever since Jessica had returned to town five years ago, he'd wanted her.

  Hard.

  Fast.

  But she was skittish, and he'd had to practice restraint, a quality he wasn't particularly known for. But with her he'd settled down with a patience that was surprising—especially to him.

  And now he thought they might be able to move forward. She'd be more comfortable in familiar surroundings, and her grandmother liked them. God knew why, but she did. She'd even dropped a few not so subtle hints about her granddaughter's lamentable single status. So surely she'd put in a good word or two.

  Not that she had any idea that both men planned on being with Jessica. Through trial and error they'd discovered a long time ago that each of them being with different women didn't work. Brock remembered the last time Nick went on a date alone. Brock had been at a meeting with his college counselor when the distinct feeling of fingers fondling his dick had broken his concentration. He'd realized immediately that Nick was with a girl and his twin's experience was being broadcast to Brock. Five excruciating minutes later, when Nick had blown his load, Brock had, too.

  Thank God the counselor had moved out of town the next year. He didn't think the old man would ever recover from seeing one of his students have an orgasm without anyone touching him.

  That had been ten years ago. Since then, any woman who set her eyes on him had to accept his brother as well. Sometimes she was intrigued, sometimes not.

  But eventually the woman would decide she wanted only one of them, and the relationship ended.

  "So,” Nick said, breaking into Brock's memories. His twin cleared his throat. “When do we meet with Mrs. Norton and her lovely granddaughter? And how do you want to handle it?"

  "Let's handle it the same way we would with any other client. Otherwise Jessie will be suspicious.” As he dragged his thoughts back to business, Brock felt his erection begin to subside. “We'll go out and have the preliminary meeting with Mrs. Norton and Jessie, find out what current security measures they have in place. Then I'll test those measures and see just how good they are.” He stood and thrust his fingers into the back pockets of his jeans. “She wants us to come over tomorrow."

  Nick's smile was slow and held the same anticipation that coursed through Brock.

  One more day. Their wait was just about over.

  Jessica Norton's time was running out. She was about to be claimed.

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  "You did what?” Jessica stared at her grandmother, uneasy anticipation tightening her entire body. The two men she wanted with a passion that was getting harder and harder to deny were going to be here, where she lived, where she felt safe.

  She hadn't been able to choose between the two of them, and she wasn't sure they'd be interested in sharing. They were identical twins, so they were probably used to sharing, but still...

  Would they want to share her?

  She knew being with the two of them wouldn't be a hardship on her. Physically they had the same thing going for them—tall, broad-shouldered, dark blue eyes fringed with silky lashes, black hair worn in long layers with strands that fell over wide foreheads. Not what she'd call classically handsome—no, they were too hard-edged, too square-jawed for that.

  But those wide naughty grins they always flashed at her, dimples denting their cheeks in the exact same spot, even as lust glittered in those deep, darkly intent eyes ... Poster boys for the devil's own lust wa
s what they were. Her fingers curled as she tried to reign in her growing passion. And increasing panic.

  They were just flirting with her. She knew that's all it was. She'd seen the kind of women they usually dated—tall, model-thin and blond. Not five-four, packing an extra thirty pounds and a tangle of mouse-brown hair.

  The only way she'd been able to hide her desire was to keep her distance. But if they came to the house and were near her for any length of time, they were sure to see the longing in her eyes. The absolute carnality of her thoughts concerning both of them.

  Of course, if she ended up wrestling them to the ground to have her way with them, that might clue them in, too. If they showed up and started giving her those deep, dark looks, that just might happen.

  It just might serve ‘em right.

  "But, dear, I want to be sure we're safe here.” The old woman looked bewildered, as if she didn't understand Jessica's reluctance to hire the two security experts.

  Jessica sighed and patted her grandmother's hand. “It's all right, Nana.” Somehow she'd manage to keep her libido under control.

  Nana smiled and settled back in her seat. “I like those two boys,” she said, rubbing one thickly veined hand on the padded arm of her chair. “You could do worse than settle down with one of ‘em."

  Yeah. Like settle down with both of them.

  "Besides, they'll know what to do to make this old place safe and sound.” Nana's pale blue eyes twinkled.

  "I thought that was why Papaw was hanging around.” Just after the words left her mouth, Jessica felt a light caress of cool air across her cheek. Some might say it was just an errant breeze, but she knew what—or, rather, who—it was.

  Oakley Norton, her grandfather. Or, at least, his spirit.

  Nana sighed, her smile dimming. “But you see, my dear, that's exactly why we need to do this. Oak doesn't belong here anymore. He should move on. That's the way it's meant to be.” Her fingers scrubbed along the arm of the chair. “I've a feeling it won't be long before I join him on the other side."

  "Nana! Don't talk like that.” Jessica leaned forward and took her grandmother's hand in hers. The older woman's skin was thin, the blue-tinged veins standing out in stark relief. “You're only eighty-two—you're going to be around a long time."

  "Well, I'll do my best to hold out for my first great grandchild, but at the rate you're going...” She shook her head, a smile once more curving her lips. She dropped one lid down in a slow wink. “One of those Phillips twins would give you beautiful children."

  At the thought of the process of getting one of those children, Jessica fought back a sensual shiver. God, to be under the sheets with Brock or Nick, his cock driving into her depths...

  Or both of them...

  With a shake of her head, she forced her attention back to her grandmother, trying to ignore the knowing grin on the older woman's face. Some things a granddaughter and grandmother just didn't discuss. “No more talk like that, you hear? About dying or children, either one.” She patted Nana's hand and stood. “When are they coming?"

  "Tomorrow afternoon at three.” Nana stood and covered a wide yawn with her hand. “Sorry, dear. I'm feeling so sleepy. I think I'll lie down and take a nap.” She pressed a kiss on Jessica's cheek. “I'll be up in time for dinner."

  Jessica watched the older woman leave the small sitting room. While her steps were swift and seemed steady, Jessica noticed Nana put one hand on the wall to balance herself. She drew in a deep breath. Her grandmother was still in good health, but she was getting old. Once she was gone, Jessica would be alone.

  Because they were never far from her thoughts, Brock and Nick popped into her mind. Tall and darkly dangerous to her emotional well-being, she knew she could never choose between the two of them. And she'd never let herself come between them.

  Somehow she'd get through the meeting tomorrow. As long as Nana didn't leave her alone with them, she'd be fine.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER 2

  "I'm so glad you boys are here.” Eloise Norton motioned Brock and Nick into the house and closed the door behind them. She looped her arms through theirs and led them into a sitting room to the left of the large foyer. She was a little thing—her white-haired head barely coming to the middle of their chests—but one of the feistiest women they knew.

  Nick glanced at Brock and grinned at the look on his twin's face. While their bond didn't include telepathy, he knew his brother well enough to figure out what was going on in his head.

  Now they knew where Jessica got her spirit. From this little pint-sized aging sprite.

  The woman uppermost in their thoughts stood in the parlor, her back to them, looking out a lace-curtained window. Dressed in faded blue jeans and a red knit shirt, she was Nick's every fantasy come to life. His gaze traveled the length of her shapely body, lingering on the curve of her ass.

  At their entrance, she turned. His gaze shot to her face, traveled over the freckles on her nose—a nose with a bump, making him think it had been broken at some point—and wide brown eyes with wariness already in their depths.

  "You know my granddaughter,” Mrs. Norton said. She went to a pink armchair and sat down.

  Nick nodded to Jessica. “Jessie.” His voice was a deep rasp, the arousal that was always just below the surface bubbling up now that he was with her.

  She blinked, no doubt nonplussed at seeing the desire he couldn't hide. “Nick."

  Nick wondered for a moment how it was she always seemed to be able to tell them apart—even as teenagers, before Brock had gotten his scar, she'd known who was who. When they were younger, even their parents had had a hard time keeping track of which twin was which. But never Jessica.

  Her gaze flitted to his brother. “Brock."

  "Jessie.” Brock's voice was just as harsh as Nick's. He cleared his throat and bent his head to the clipboard in one hand. “The first thing we'll need to do is get an idea of what security measures you have in place, and what things you think you still need."

  Nick felt the banked excitement flowing through Brock, and wished his brother would get himself under control. It was hard enough—literally—fighting his own desire. To have to try to fight his twin's as well was damn near impossible.

  "Well, you boys have a seat. Jessie, you, too.” Mrs. Norton beamed them a smile.

  Nick waited until Jessie sat down in the other lone chair, then he and Brock took their places on the tan and pink sofa. The delicate rose pattern on the material and the wood scrollwork along the top made Nick feel like he was sitting on doll furniture, and he wondered if the delicate looking piece would hold their weight. Brock shifted on the sofa, and Nick bit back a grin. Seemed his brother felt the same way.

  "Now, as I was saying—"

  "Oh, I forgot the coffee!” Mrs. Norton cut Brock off. “I'm sorry, dear. But would you help me in the kitchen? I have coffee perking and some nice blueberry pound cake I baked this morning."

  Jessie shot to her feet. “I'll help, Nana."

  "And leave both of our guests alone?” Mrs. Norton slid to the edge of her chair. Nick and Brock both stood, Brock going over to the old lady. He bent solicitously, one hand under her elbow, the other holding her hand, and helped her to her feet. She patted his forearm. “Thank you, dear."

  As he walked from the room, he kept his hand under her elbow. He shot a look at Nick that Nick understood clearly. You're going to be alone with Jessie—don't waste this chance.

  Nick turned toward Jessica.

  Big doe eyes gazed at him. She ran her tongue over her lips, leaving them shiny. He saw the longing in her eyes before she shuttered her gaze with her lashes and went back to the window. “I appreciate you and Brock humoring Nana,” she murmured. She lifted a hand and pushed back the lacy drapes.

  "We're not humoring her,” he murmured and walked over to stand behind her. She wasn't a tiny woman like her grandmother. At six-three, he and Brock usually preferred taller women. Still, at more
than a head shorter than him and softly rounded, Jessica wasn't the type of woman they usually dated.

  But she was the one they wanted.

  This close to her he caught the intoxicating scent of her perfume, a mix of floral and just enough spice to tighten his gut. He glanced down, appreciating the view of her full breasts hugged by that red-cape-in-front-of-a-bull shirt. Even through her bra he could see the outline of her nipples. He gritted his teeth against a surge of arousal.

  "I'm just not sure we need any additional security.” Her voice was breathy. He only hoped it was because she was bothered by his nearness. He shouldn't be the only one suffering this way.

  "Just at a glance, I'd say you're wrong.” He put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around to face him. “You have no cameras, no alarm system, no motion detectors. Just locks on doors and windows. Those can be easily breeched.” He rested one hand against the wall and leaned over her. With his other hand he brushed a strand of silky hair, sleek and rich as a mink's coat, away from her cheek.

  Her lips parted on a low gasp.

  Nick bent his head and covered her mouth with his. Their tongues met, hers beckoning him to taste more. Her flavor filled him. She tasted like he'd dreamed she would—sweet, spicy and all warm, willing woman.

  A blast of arousal blistered its way through him. He wanted this woman like he'd never wanted before—needed like he'd never needed. Everything inside him howled to lay siege to her luscious body, to claim her with hands and mouth.

  Hands at her hips, he drew her close, holding her tight against him. He plundered her mouth, tasting her, driving their mutual need higher and sending her a very clear message.

  He intended to have her.

  She moaned into his mouth and pressed against him, her soft little belly rubbing against the thick erection that strained to get past his waistband. He did some moaning of his own, hands tightening as he urged her to ride that hard ridge of flesh.

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  Brock's fingers clenched around the coffee cup. The delicate china didn't stand a chance and broke, leaving pieces of the handle between his fingers and thumb. He managed to snag the cup as it started to fall. He was barely aware of Mrs. Norton fluttering behind him, exclaiming over the broken cup, asking him if he'd hurt himself. He mumbled a response—God only knew what he said, but it seemed to satisfy the old woman.