Sticky Fingers: An Enemies To Lovers Romantic Comedy Page 4

  She may have started as enemies, but I’m thinking she’s fallen in love.

  “Sonia, this is my…friend, Dominic,” Daphne says as a tall, muscular, and devastatingly handsome man comes to stand by her.

  He places an arm around her and kisses her on the temple in the sweetest and most swoon-worthy way. Damn, Daphne really got lucky.

  “Dominic, this is Sonia. She’s the one who donated the beautiful watercolor I told you I absolutely adore.”

  “Hi, Sonia,” he says as he extends his free arm in an offer to shake hands. “Nice meeting you.”

  I shake his hand and smile.

  “It’s nice to meet you too, Dominic. Are you enjoying the night?”

  “I am. Although I’m pretty sure I come nowhere close to enjoying it as much as Daphne.”

  I laugh. He’s likely right. No one comes close to loving art like Daphne.

  “Oh, let me introduce you to a good friend of mine,” he suddenly says.

  I feel a presence behind me and turn to see a man moving to stand slightly off to the side, right between me and Daphne.

  “This is Malcolm Push. Malcolm, this is Sonia Sawyer.”

  I turn to face Dominic’s friend and freeze.

  The man responds in the same manner and stares at me in complete surprise.

  Oh, shit.

  I should have anticipated this. He was at the last party, so why wouldn’t he be here at this one? How could I have been such a fucking idiot and forget this might have happened?

  Just because I had never seen him before, I assumed the man from the other night didn’t live in here. Rookie move.

  And now, the mystery man I’ve been fantasizing about—despite my best efforts to try and forget about him—is standing right here in front of me.

  My skin starts to tingle, and my blood begins to heat up. Flashes of him fucking me near the stolen painting bubble up to my mind’s surface. Ever since I replaced the woman he was fucking that night in my mind, it’s always been me he’s screwing the brains out of endlessly.

  My breathing becomes slightly shallow the longer we stare.

  His deep blue eyes pierce me, and I know he’s made the connection—he knows I’m the thief. Crap, this isn’t good. Should I stay and see if he rats me out, or run before he has a chance to drag me off to the cops?

  Hell, I can’t move.

  I can’t walk away from him.

  There’s something different about him…and there’s something between us that I can’t just walk away from.

  Well, shit, looks like I’m staying.

  What the hell. I like a good adrenaline rush, and this is shaping up for another good night of that.

  Nice to meet you, Malcolm Push.

  Now let’s see what you’re all about.

  Chapter Seven

  Malcolm

  Sonia Sawyer.

  Holy fucking shit.

  It’s her, no fucking doubt about it.

  I’m frozen as I look directly into her eyes. They’re exactly the way I remember.

  Large. Expressive. Soulful.

  They suck me in and make me feel…things. And not just my hardening cock, even though that’s part of it. And if I had any doubt at all, her reaction confirms what my body instinctually knows.

  She looks like a deer caught in the fucking headlights.

  Fuck me.

  I’ve been chasing leads for the last couple of days and all I hit were dead ends. And now…now here she is, right in front of me.

  “What a beautiful name,” I say, dragging my tongue lecherously over my lips. I say her name again slowly, “Sonia.”

  “Malcolm,” she throws back, flicking her tongue across those delicious lips, mimicking me.

  “Sonia,” I repeat, as if in a trance.

  “And I’m Dominic and she’s Daphne,” Dominic exclaims with a guffaw, breaking the staring contest we have between us.

  “Can I buy you another drink, Sonia?” I ask. The air around us is electric. “French 75? They say it was a favorite of Picasso himself.”

  There are some odd fucking looks going back and forth between Dominic and Daphne, but I don’t think they know exactly what’s going on. Likely, they’re just thinking it’s sexual attraction and that I’m just trying to get inside Sonia’s pants.

  Which, you know, is also true.

  “Picasso was a tricky one to nail down,” she whispers, her eyes never leaving mine.

  Her sexy, full lips tilt into a small smile as she sets her empty glass down next to us. Her sweet voice immediately makes me think of tangled bedsheets and very loud moans.

  “Positively slippery.”

  What the fuck am I even saying at this point? This woman is like a fucking drug.

  I extend my arm and Sonia entwines hers in mine as if in a trance.

  Daphne and Dominic stare at us as we walk to the lobby bar.

  I’m hard as a rock. Even a fucking idiot can see this tiny creature is sexy as hell. What can I even say?

  The fact that she’s a tiny thief just makes her all the more appealing to me. I feel drawn to her. I want to peel back all her layers and discover all the secrets she hides underneath—just as much as I want to rip her clothes off her tiny frame and fuck her for days.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “Are you an art lover?” I ask her as we walk to the bar.

  “I think I’m just an amateur when it comes to appreciating art,” she replies. “Not like Daphne.”

  “So your interests lie more in…” I trail off, staring ahead as she turns her gaze to me before finishing my sentence, “collections?”

  “Collections?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

  “Acquisitions?” I respond.

  “You give me too much credit, Malcolm,” she says with a laugh, but I can feel her arm freeze up. “I’m way too poor to be collecting.”

  “Who needs money?” I ask, stopping and looking at her dead in the eyes.

  “It’s usually a requisite.”

  “Maybe there’s a discount you can get?” I ask.

  Our conversation is a dance. Our banter is the prelude to sex. I can feel it.

  “A discount for me?” she asks, innocently.

  “The kind that comes with five fingers,” I say.

  There. I fucking said it.

  Sonia stares at me for a long moment.

  “Have you lived here long, Mr. Push?” she asks.

  “A few years,” I say casually, wondering where she’s going with this. “You?”

  I can’t imagine she’s lived here long, considering I’ve never seen her before. A fucking hot piece of ass like this would definitely get my attention.

  “No, just a little over a month. I was fortunate to know the previous owner, and he offered it to me before it hit the market.” She smiles up at me slowly. “Everyone has been so friendly.”

  The lobby bar has only one other couple at the other end as I pull out a chair for her. Just a hint of perfect white teeth shows as she turns and slides into the seat. My eyes are then drawn to the perfect shape of her breasts, and I hold my breath as I imagine how it would feel to have my cock trapped between them.

  Fuck, I need to focus.

  I order a scotch neat for me and a French 75 for her.

  “My friend Taylor helped me get my place when I first moved in. It’s very centrally located, and I liked the convenience,” I say.

  “Helps you stay aware of everything?”

  “I know most of everything that goes on around me.”

  “You seem like the kind of man that hates mysteries.”

  “I hate them.”

  “So, when you find one you need to solve it?” she asks.

  “I can’t leave it alone,” I tell her. “Especially when my head is on the chopping block.”

  “Oh?”

  “When something goes missing and the cops blame me, it’s not about the mystery anymore,” I say to her. “Usually, it means I’m out to deliver someon
e’s head.”

  “Now, why would they go about and blame you, babe?” Sonia asks with an evil grin. “Were you being naughty?”

  I grunt. She does the dance very, very fucking well.

  Taking a long sip of my scotch, I look at her over the top of my glass. She mimics me, taking a leisurely sip of her own drink and gazing at me; her eyes widen questionably, and we both smile as we lower our glasses.

  This fucking chick is measuring me up.

  Alright, if that’s the fucking game she wants to play…

  “You know I know.” I can’t help stating the obvious.

  “What do you know?” She furrows her brow as a full radiant smile emerges.

  She’s blowing me the fuck away.

  “I know it was you.”

  Leaning in, I inhale deeply. I’m not sure if it’s her hair or perfume…but she fucking smells like sin.

  I want to throw her on the bar right now and drive my cock home.

  Shrugging, she gives me a look of feigned innocence and runs an unpainted but manicured fingertip lightly along the glass rim.

  “What is it you think you know I did?” Her voice is soft but warm.

  She’s definitely baiting me.

  “You stole the painting. I saw you do it.” The last bit I whisper directly into her ear. It’s as small and dainty as she is, and I can just barely restrain myself from biting it.

  “That’s not what I heard.” Her smile gets wider as she leans back from me a bit, putting a little more room between us. “I heard the thief was wearing a mask and that you were a little too preoccupied to stop them.”

  Fucking hilarious. Like she wasn’t the one there watching me fuck the shit out of Debra.

  “I admit that I was a little busy, but I never forget a body. And you, in all black, skin-tight clothing…I will never forget.” Taking another sip of my drink, I watch her shift uncomfortably in her chair.

  “There are a million petite women in this city,” she says, raising an eyebrow again.

  I pause for a second. What the fuck. Time to go all-in.

  “Fuck the body,” I tell her. “I’ll never forget those eyes that you looked at me with.”

  “Were you looking back at them?” she asks.

  “I was fucking captivated, baby.”

  “Are you captivated now?” She bats her eyes at me.

  Leaning back in my own chair, I consider her carefully.

  I don’t fucking understand the game for her, but I want to know everything.

  Did she do it for the money? The excitement?

  What’s the driving force for a fucking beautiful woman to go around stealing fucking Picassos?

  “You realize I have a detective on my case,” I remind her, but she keeps her eyes on her drink, which she‘s now swirling along the bottom of her glass. “I have to find who did it to clear my own name.”

  Looking at me sharply, she gives me an amused look. “You seem to have quite the reputation with the local law enforcement.”

  I remain silent.

  “Poor little cocky rich asshole,” she says with a giggle. “So used to being above the law that the one time he didn’t do something bad he gets blamed for it.”

  “They probably assume that because I didn’t stop the thief, that I’m working together with her,” I say as I mimic her movements and stir the ice around in my own drink.

  “Tell me, Mr. Push,” she says as she sidles up to me, “are you that worried about finding the thief because you want the painting back?”

  She takes a sip and continues,

  “Or because, for the first time in your life, someone did something and got one over you and now you can’t help but be entranced by it?”

  She finishes her drink and looks at me.

  My cock is so fucking hard I’m sure I could pound nails.

  Instead, I shift briefly as I watch her cross her legs suggestively.

  Fuck.

  Wrapping my arm around the back of her chair, I run my fingers lightly up her back.

  She arches towards me, and I see her nipples stiffen enticingly as I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and pull our faces closer together.

  Whispering, I breathe into her ear, “I’m going to have to give them something or someone. We can make this easy…” I trail off until she moves her head to face mine.

  Our faces are less than an inch apart before I continue, “Or we can make it very, very hard.”

  Her pulse is picking up. I can feel it accelerating under my fingers around her neck.

  “I wouldn’t worry about me.”

  Her flippant tone is completely opposite of her flushed and heavy breathing face. She pulls back slightly so she can look me directly in the eyes. Her next words make my heart stop for a full second.

  “I’ve never been caught by a man.”

  Hot. She’s so fucking hot that I can envision steam rising from her.

  I’ve never wanted a woman this much, and I can’t think of anything that would stop me from getting her. If she thinks playing hard to get will put me off, she’s going to be extremely fucking disappointed.

  But I don’t think she really wants me to stop either.

  I drop my hand from her neck and slide back into my chair.

  “Let’s have dinner,” I find myself saying, doing it on impulse.

  She sits forward quickly, lowering her glass.

  I guess she wasn’t expecting that.

  “Friday at eight?” I continue. “Per Se at the Time Warner Square.”

  “I know where it’s at,” she replies.

  I’m holding my breath now—and that’s a fucking first.

  It’s hard to say what she’s thinking, but she puts her glass down and gets out of the chair.

  Standing, she quickly pushes her bar stool in as I rise from my own chair. She begins to walk towards the gallery before turning and looking at me.

  “Friday then,” she replies softly, a wicked smile hanging on her lips. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Push.”

  She turns and walks away as I admire her ass again, not even blinking.

  I can’t wait to get a piece of that.

  Chapter Eight

  Sonia

  I grin as my hands slide down my hips to smooth out the dress I’m rocking. Standing in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, I nod approvingly at my own reflection.

  The dress is a deep red that stops mid-thigh with a plunging neck line. The plunge is almost scandalous. It shows off the girls quite nicely.

  I can’t wear a bra with this dress, so I had to tack the fabric down with double-sided fashion tape.

  This dress will definitely do the trick in driving Malcolm crazy.

  I’ve never met a man like him.

  He’s started a game with me.

  A delicate dance. The kind that makes you savor every step.

  Definitely not boring.

  He has the kind of attitude that just draws me in, you know? As much as I know I should, I can’t walk away. And, more than anything, I want to leave an impression.

  I pair the dress with a couple of black Louboutin heels, a gold necklace with a single chain that rests down the center of my exposed chest, and a pair of simple, gold dangling earrings.

  My hair is done in loose, soft waves. And then there’s a touch of smoky eyeshadow and a light pink lip gloss, just enough to make my lips pop without making the whole package appear over-the-top.

  I smile at myself in the mirror. Whatever happens, this is going to be one interesting night.

  “So, Malcolm Push…” my assistant says from the chair resting in the corner, her voice crashing through my thoughts. More than just my assistant, Kathy is a loyal friend—one I can trust with all my secrets. “He’s wealthy, he’s the ultimate playboy, and the kicker is…he controls the largest criminal empire in New York.”

  “Wait, what?” I whip around to face her, confused. “What was that last one you said?”

  “He’s the one controllin
g The Push Criminal Organization. He is The Push Criminal Organization. Ever heard of it?”

  “I sure have,” I whisper. “Holy shit.”

  I should have made the connection when I heard his last name, or at least realized he was connected to the organization, if not in control of it. But then again, The Push Organization is something one whispers about while slightly tipsy.

  You hear things about an organization running things in the background, but I always thought it was more myth than anything.

  But if Malcolm really is the one behind such a thing…well, he’s everything that I aspire to be—a straight-up badass.

  “Yeah, figured that would be your reaction,” my assistant says smugly, her hands folded behind her head.

  I smile hugely at her and say,

  “Thanks for the rundown.”

  “Don’t mention it,” she says with a laugh, stretching her back and pushing her glasses down the bridge of her nose. “You know I enjoy digging dirt on people – especially men.”

  “And you’re amazing at that, babe.”

  It’s true. Whenever I need a piece of information on anyone, Kathy never fails to dig something up.

  “I have to get going now. Seems like I’ve got a date with a sexy crime boss, huh?”

  “Have fun, Sonia,” she says with a wink as she gets up to leave. “Already know you’re going to give him hell…or at least a strong case of blue balls with that outfit.”

  I laugh and grab my purse before heading out myself. A limo is already waiting for me outside—courtesy of Malcolm Push, of course—and I slide into the luxury leather seat.

  It doesn’t take long for the driver to pull up in front of the Time Warner Center, the building’s glass façade reflecting New York’s night lights.

  Walking inside, I spot Malcolm in the lobby, looking straight at me.

  His hands are stuffed into his pockets, making him look laid back and in control. That’s just for show, though—one close look at him and I know I have an effect on him. His jaw is twitching, his eyes are dilated, and I think I see a slight bulge in his pants.

  One point for Sonia, zero for Malcolm.

  Game on.