Precious Gems - Sierra Hill Page 0,10

referred to as an “exotic” look.

My mother was Brazilian, and it seems my curves, starting with my well-endowed breasts accentuate my small waistline and full hips, come directly from her voluptuous side of the family. My light olive-colored skin is smooth, highlighting my tanned, long giraffe legs that were gangly looking until I turned sixteen, when they somehow overnight turned shapely, leading up to my full, round bottom.

I’m not a stranger to fending off men who have made their attempts to touch and grope my ass and boobs over the years, who tell me how sexy and beautiful I am, in hopes that their words will be the key to unlocking my legs for them.

But I’ve kept them firmly and resolutely closed.

And once I’ve denied any reciprocal interest in them, shooting down their efforts to get me on my back, that desire for me sours, turning into slimy, misogynistic harassment, their once complimentary language growing sordid and ugly.

Slut. Whore. Cock-tease. Prude. Bitch.

You name it, I’ve been called it. The worst offenders happened to be my own father and brother.

My best revenge happened to be holding myself above their contempt by keeping my body pure. I’ve never allowed a boy or a man to touch me. I’ve worked hard to downplay my appearance by avoiding tight or revealing clothing, oftentimes putting on my brother’s flannel shirts to cover my figure.

So, to experience this electrifying sensation that registers deep within my loins from this man’s touch, and noticing his visible reaction to me, alters my opinion on sexual attraction.

I don’t know who this man is, only that he’s the fence brought in to purchase this stolen diamond. The contact for which we exchange product for money to satisfy the prearranged agreement.

But I want to know him. And I don’t want this conversation to be over so quickly. So, I ask the question that’s on my mind. The one I want answered.

“What’s more valuable than what’s in your hand?” My voice is basically a trace of whisper.

His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip before he stuffs it back in his cheek with a crooked grin.

“You, Gemma. You just raised the stakes in this deal.”

Chapter 6

With the jut of his chin, he orders Hulk over to my side, who grasps my bicep in his large hand.

“Dempsey, take her back to the Cove and then call Roman and West. Tell them I’ll be by later after I run the authenticity tests at the shop.”

“Yes, boss.”

The “boss” gives me a pointed look, narrowing his eyes into slits so all I see is a pool of dark through his lashes.

He pinches my chin between his thumb and index finger, hard, swiveling my head side-to-side before dropping it harshly.

“If you’re conning me, Gemma Phillips, you will pay. Your father will pay. I am not a man you fuck with. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

I stutter. “I-I’m not…we’re not trying to fuck with you. I promise.”

He huffs out a sarcastic laugh. “The word of a twenty-year old jewel thief? Is that an oxymoron?”

Everything in me wants to argue. To riot against his sarcasm and mistrust. But it’s difficult to do when he steps in close again, his solid chest pushing against my breasts. It’s threatening and meant to intimidate, but it’s sexually thrilling, and it makes my panties go damp.

All I can imagine is what it would feel like if the clothes between us disappeared and his body covered mine, entering me for the first time. Taking my virginity and filling me with his cock.

I lift a shoulder in a half shrug, biting down on my lip to stop the quivering. Whether it’s from fear or lust, I can’t quite determine.

“My word is good,” I say with more confidence than I feel. “I wouldn’t be here in person making this deal if that weren’t the case.”

He considers this for a moment and then tips his head in a nod, signaling Hulk to do his bidding. As I’m ushered away by the grip of Hulk’s hold, I’m led out a door that isn’t the one we entered. I twist in his grasp, looking back at the man whose name I still don’t know to find him staring at my retreating form.

“Wait…you can’t do this. Just let me call my father. You can’t just kidnap me like this!”

The sound of my voice is sheer panic, risen to a level of delirium. With my hands still tied behind my back, there’s nothing I can do to protect myself