Page 6 of Sticky Fingers
Chapter Two
Sonia
Gaspsand a few screams fill the air around me. I smirk. I bet they’re going crazy about something other than the painting…something like someone’s wife being fucked in front of an audience.
The crowd gets louder, outrage in everyone’s voices, and I hear Picasso’s name repeated over and over again.
Alright, maybe theydocare about the painting.
“What the fuck is going on here?!” I hear a shrill voice cut the air.
My guess is he’s the husband of the woman Mr. Hot Stuff was banging as I stole the painting right under their noses. I saw a ring on her hand but none on the guy she was messing around with. Doesn’t take a genius to figure that whole situation out.
I sigh. Why bother getting married if you drop your panties whenever a hot guy looks at you?
I hear the crowd beginning to get rowdier. Feet are stomping as people run around, likely trying to locate where the painting has run off to and who is to blame. With any luck, they’ll just blame Mr. Hot Stuff and that’ll be the end of it.
Still draped in shadows, I carefully tuck the painting under my elbow and start running as fast as I can, hightailing it out of the Clarendon Tower building’s art gallery.
Slightly behind me, I hear the distinctive sound of a zipper breaking through the noise, as the man I locked eyes with earlier puts himself back in his pants. God, that man has some balls…screwing a woman behind the very curtains that would reveal the painting. Maybe he doesn’t give a fuck…or maybe his cock is stronger than his brain.
Ah, men.
Smiling to myself, I dash down one of the service corridors, and that’s when I hear heavy footsteps right behind me. Glancing back, I seehimgiving chase.
And he’s fast. Crap.
I speed up my pace. No way am I getting caught.
I’ve never been caught before, and I’m not about to start now. No matter how hot my potential captor is.
He might have a powerful stride, but I have a head start, giving me the upper hand. Besides, I know this building better than I know each line on the palm of my hand.
For half a second, I imagine him grabbing me, his strong arms pushing me back and pinning me against the wall.
C’mon, now’s not the time for that, I admonish myself, trying to stop my brain from venturing down fantasy lane.
But, really, can you blame me?
Whoever that guy is, he really is a sight to behold. Coal black hair styled in a messy way that makes him seem rugged yet put-together at the same time and piercing blue eyes that pull you in completely, with no hope of breaking away. Accompanied by a chiseled jaw, the man is the epitome of dark, mysterious, and sexy…exactly the three secret ingredients to melting a woman in her panties.
More than what’s visible, he’s built like a muscle machine. His defined muscles fill out his tailored suit, from the bulging biceps to his powerful thighs. I’d bet all the money I have on me that he even has a six pack underneath his dress shirt.
The man clearly has someskills,too, if you know what I mean. If the moans coming from the woman he was screwing are any indication, he sure knows how to handle what’s between his legs.
Back when I was taking the painting, I ignored the woman and just focused on him for a split second…and that was enough to get me all kinds of hot and bothered. I mean, my thong feels completely drenched as I run through the building.
I wouldn’t mind experiencinghim. Not at all.
Focus on the task at hand, Sonia,I tell myself again.Don’t let some sexy guy screw this up for you.
Weaving through the halls of the building, I follow the escape route I laid out before coming here.
You see, I’m no rookie when it comes to art theft. I’ve been doing it for years.
Stealing art always gives me a thrill. There’s that rush of adrenaline, the way my pulse quickens when I pull off something risky… It just adds a spark of color to my life, you know? For most people, the normal humdrum of life is all black and white. But add in some burglary and…well, let’s just say that things start to get interesting.
Life is too boring if you’re not living on the edge. And believe me, I know what I’m talking about.
