Page 44 of Sticky Fingers
Chapter Fourteen
Sonia
My legs are still shakingas I leave Malcolm’s apartment.
My makeup is ruined, my shirt is torn, and locks of hair are plastered to my sweaty forehead. Luckily, it’s still early—everyone’s asleep, and the Clarendon Tower’s corridors and elevators are deserted.
That’s right, I’m taking the elevator. What? C’mon, don’t tell me you thought I’d go back through the ducts.
As the elevator takes me to my floor, I consider just going back and spending the night there. What would be the harm in waking by Malcolm’s side, my head resting on his chest? What would be the harm in going for Round 2 at the first light of dawn?
But no, I can’t do that. I’ve been careless enough for one day, and that’s why I snuck out of the apartment the moment Malcolm fell asleep. Besides, I want him to wake up wondering where I’ve gone.
There’s nothing more seductive than mystery, right?
I mean, mystery was exactly why I ended up in his apartment. I simply had to know what kind of bullshit painting Malcolm had gotten. And, just as I thought, it was all bullshit.
He still has no idea where the real painting is.
As I finally reach my apartment and step inside, I come face-to-face with a very flushed Kathy. Her reading glasses are perched on her forehead, and her usually relaxed gaze betrays the worry that’s consuming her from the inside out.
“Christ! Where were you?” she asks me as I close the door behind me.
As I smile at her, she places her hands on her hips and starts tapping her right foot against the floor. She looks at my hair, at my torn shirt, and then at the exhausted—but definitely very happy—expression on my face.
“No way!”
I give her a coy smile and simply shrug. No use in hiding it from Kathy. She knows everything there is to know about me, and she would see through my lies in a heartbeat.
“Have you gone crazy?” she asks, following me to the kitchen. “Did you really sleep with him?”
“Well...yeah,” I confess sheepishly.
“Here I was, worried to death...and you’re getting it on with him?” She shakes her head at the thought and then sighs heavily. “Seriously, Sonia, how did that even happen? You were supposed to get in and out without him noticing you. Don’t tell me you tiptoed your way into bed with him.”
“No, he found me as I was coming out the duct,” I say as Kathy gasps.
“What?!” she yells out. “What happened?”
“He, uhm, well…” I start and then decide to just be honest. “He tied me up.”
“He what?!” she yells.
“Yeah, and then he ripped off my clothes,” I say.
“He did what?!” Kathy yells. It’s like she’s forgotten words.
“Then he showed me—” I start but she cuts me off.
“He showed you his cock and made you suck it?” she interjects.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
“Uhm, no,” I say, staring at her pointedly. “What the fuck have you been reading?”
“Sorry, I was just reading dark romance on my e-reader,” she says sheepishly before trying to recover with, “But I can’t believe he tied you up and had his way with you.”
“Well, he didn’t actually,” I correct. “He actually showed me the painting.”
