Page 12 of Sticky Fingers

Chapter Five

Malcolm

I can hearDominic and Daphne’s voices as I move away from the door.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, a fucking headache hammering at my skull. I just spent two fucking hours being interrogated by that fucking detective and his minions.

Not the first time I went toe-to-toe with Detective Jeremiah Strong, but Jesus fuck…this time he seems hell bent on nailing my fucking ass. Which is fucking ironic, being that, this time, I’m completely innocent.

Yeah, not exactly the way I planned to end my fucking evening.

I can still hear Dominic and Daphne as I move away from their front door.

It’s clear that they believe me, although I think that Daphne may have some doubts. I don’t fucking blame her, though. If anything, I’d be fucking disappointed if people didn’t think I might have had something to do with it.

Pushing the button for the elevator to take me down to my floor, I think about what I should do next. My preferred next step would, of course, be to bury my cock inside my little cat burglar’s pussy.

All I can think about is her and peeling off that tight, black outfit to expose her naked skin underneath. Fuck, just thinking of that is enough to make my cock twitch.

I have limited fucking options though. And until I find her, I’m going to be the main suspect.

These high-end elevators are quick; I feel like I’ve just stepped on when it starts to slow again. The door opens smoothly a couple of floors above mine to show Claire, one of the tenants, holding her small dog under her arm.

As I look at the dog, the fucking fur ball starts growling, baring his pointy little teeth.

“Why, hello, Mr. Push,” Claire says with a smile.

She’s too fucking tall—she can’t be my burglar.

I don’t know why, but I feel that the thief must be in this building.

Call it instinct or intuition, but I always listen to that voice. It’s part of what’s fucking made me. I wouldn’t be at the top of my game without it.

“Hello, Claire.” I move over slightly as she steps into the elevator.

Our distorted reflections on the elevator doors make us look even taller than we are.

“I’m disappointed I didn’t make it to the Picasso reveal this evening. I heard it was something else.” Her raised eyebrows and the smirk on her red lips makes me smile back.

She doesn’t give a fuck about the painting—she’s just trying to flirt with me.

“Heard about that already?” I’m not surprised. This place is a regular fucking rumor mill.

Tucking my hands in my pockets, I drop my shoulder onto the side of the elevator as I turn to peer down on her.

“I sure did.” She smiles up at me and wiggles her eyebrows as the doors open on my floor.

See? Just one more slut eager to get inside my pants. Sometimes, I feel like women see me just as a piece of meat. Sometimes, life is just so fucking unfair, you know?

Alright, that was a fucking joke, in case you didn’t notice.

I fuckinglovethat women see me as a piece of meat…and I’m always more than happy to give them a taste of the special cut between my legs. But not tonight.

I ignore Claire’s gaze—she’s pretty much fucking me with her eyeballs by now—and give her a curt nod as I leave.

Another stupid fucking socialite that wants to go for a fucking ride on my cock. Think I’m being too cocky and that she was just being nice?

Oh, please. C’mon on now, dollface. All it would take would be a little push and she’d be ready to hop on for a ride.