Chapter 1 #2
“What are Sara Bosch and Sterling Ellis up to?” I asked, tipping my flute toward the extremely successful insurance investigators. Although they worked for different companies, they were speaking quietly while standing in front of a Camille Claudel sculpture.
It was another long-lost masterpiece that would be up for auction. Although, in this case, it was authentic…at the moment. My ability to replicate sculpture was excellent, but it wasn’t my forte and wouldn’t stand up to anything but the first few levels of testing.
That particular piece would be replaced after the auction while it was in transit to the new owner. And with the authentication certification from the auction house in hand, there would be no reason for them to request further testing.
“Isn’t Sara’s company set to insure the sculpture?” Charles clarified.
“Oui.” Which was why I was very curious to know what they were discussing so intently.
“You don’t think she’ll ask for an independent examination?”
“Probably,” I replied.
Alec frowned and glanced around before murmuring, “And what if it’s then declared a fake?”
I shrugged. Under the right circumstances, there were times when my less-than-perfect talent could work in our favor. “Then the new owner will feel like a fool and be out millions of dollars.”
While our buyer would have their prize safely tucked away somewhere.
“And should the original emerge again someday far in the future, it will be worth a fuck of a lot more than the price it will catch today.”
Alec smirked and said something else, but I didn’t hear it.
My attention was snagged by a glimpse of soft red curls that tumbled down to a perfectly rounded ass covered in deep purple silk.
When the silky tresses moved, pale creamy skin peeked through.
Far too much beautifully freckle-kissed skin, I thought as my brow furrowed.
The back of the dress was basically nonexistent and was open to the small of the woman’s back, much too close to that delectable ass.
Then she turned around and—putain de merde!
Big green, upturned eyes were framed with thick black lashes that made them stand out like brilliant emeralds.
Her pert nose sat atop red, bow-shaped lips, and dimples dug into cute, plump cheeks dusted with freckles.
I could just imagine them mixed with a sweet pink blush while those puffy lips were wrapped around my cock.
Her dress was secured around her slender neck, and the front dipped into a V that was just low enough to show off a little cleavage.
The fabric fell loosely at her sides, and when she moved, it shifted just enough to show a hint of the rounded curves of her breasts.
And fuck, they were the most mouthwatering tits I’d ever seen.
Big, juicy globes that would more than fill my hands.
They would look sexy as fuck bouncing while she was riding my dick fast and hard.
Although I was pissed about how much of her body was on display, I was distracted as my gaze continued downward.
She had an hourglass figure with wide, curvy hips, and when the slit in her skirt parted, it showed off a thick thigh and a leg that looked a mile long—despite her height.
Without her sky-high heels, she couldn’t be more than 5’2”, considering I was nearly a foot taller than her at six feet.
It had been a long time since a woman had caught my eye, so I was stunned when my body came roaring to life. My hands itched to feel all those soft curves, to cup those luscious breasts, squeeze her plump ass, and hold her hips to keep her in place while I buried myself inside her over and over.
I wanted to run my tongue over all that pale, star-dusted skin, connecting every one of them until I’d tasted them all.
The thought of her legs wrapped around my head while I ate her to a screaming orgasm had my pulse racing and my mouth filling with moisture.
She was all curves, but she was small, and my dick was as hard as stone as I imagined sinking into her tight channel and exploding while she clamped down around me and milked me for every drop.
Putain de merde. I had to stop these thoughts before I came in my pants like a fucking teenager. Or dragged the woman to the nearest room to fuck her brains out like a damn caveman.
After a few minutes of picturing the least sexy things I could think of, my breathing and pulse were back to normal, although I hadn’t been able to get my cock to soften.
“Marc ran everyone in the room?” I asked Alec casually.
“Sí,” he said with a nod.
“Who is that woman? The redhead in purple.”
“Kerrigan Vale.”
I knew he’d be able to answer me immediately because he had an eidetic memory. Which was extremely useful at crowded events like this.
“She’s one of the guests I’m not so sure was invited,” he added.
“But according to Marc, she’s the newest junior curator for The Peachtree Museum of Fine Arts.
She’s wicked smart, and the notes her last employer wrote during her internship indicate that she has an incredible knack for art.
But she’s basically the lowest on the totem pole, so I’m sure she isn’t here representing The Peachtree.
She could be someone’s guest, I suppose. ”
Anger and jealousy clawed at my chest when I considered she might be here with someone, possibly on a date.
I was astounded by my visceral reactions to her.
It was disconcerting, and the loss of control I was feeling over my emotions irritated the fuck out of me.
But when her eyes suddenly met mine, my feet began to move of their own volition, and the caveman inside me smiled wickedly as he stalked his prey.