Chapter 33
33
December 9, 2003
The look on my girl’s face when the truth dawned on her... In the moment it took her to digest the fact that I wasn’t just an art professor, I worried that I had made a mistake. That I had misjudged her. Or worse, let her down. But I had panicked for nothing. When she finally spoke up, a grin lit her face.
“I wanna do that.”
Lord have mercy, she sounded so resolute. I had to fight from grinning when she nodded her head and stared at me head-on. I wish I knew the woman who raised her because she suddenly looked older in the moment. Wise to the fact that things were hard out here for a girl like her. Perhaps being an orphan will do that to a girl.
When I explained that she’d still have to continue with her education, she deflated a bit. I won’t have her throw all her time and energy to an occupation that could chew her up and spit her out at a moment’s notice. In her line of work, hell, any woman needed a backup plan. And I will teach her all kinds of backup plans to keep her safe. If I train her correctly, Celeste has the potential to be greater than I. When I look at her, I can tell she won’t make the same careless mistakes I made. This one won’t let a man hinder her abilities in the slightest...
April 19, 2017
It shouldn’t come as a surprise to me that Magnus has seduced my best student. Hell, if I was twenty years younger, I’d take a run at him myself. He’s slick, charming and doesn’t need this job. Just like Bastian... And I can tell that Celeste is both drawn to and repulsed by him. After all, I’ve taught her to value her neck and the job before a man.
Sigh...but Magnus isn’t just like Bastian, is he? He’s cocky, for sure, but he’s a lot more considerate than he lets on. He lets Celeste boss him and the team about, until he recognizes that she’s barreling toward recklessness. He’s the last backstop before young Celeste flings herself off a cliff for riches and wealth. Perhaps it takes an independently wealthy man to remind her that jewels aren’t everything.
I also catch the way they look at each other when they think the rest of us don’t notice. It’s not just lust. I know they’ve been fooling around for a while now. No, it’s more than that. Magnus watches her with a possessiveness that betrays his indifference. Celeste might give him a sharp tongue, but she stares at him with admiration.
Sometimes I’m sad when I observe them. I wonder if my time leading the group has come to an end. They’ve properly picked up the slack and run with it. Especially during this last trip to Paris. When those two put their heads together, they’re literally one mind. I wonder if they realize how closely aligned they are? Their preparation went off without a hitch and the execution was flawless. I just sat back and watched them get the work done...and I barely contributed. Is retirement much closer than I had realized?
Maybe the kids are all right.
But what if this is the end of an era? What if they find a way to lead the group in their own image and I’m no longer needed? Perhaps that’s when I’ll rest. Oh, Doris, when have you actually wanted rest? Ultimately, I still love being in a game that’s steadily moving out of my control. Every newly acquired piece is not just their victory; it’s also mine. Who’d want to lose that because of something so silly as age? For now, I love being around Celeste, Magnus and my baby Santi. I think they make Lawrence and me feel a bit younger.
Celeste wanted to throw up.
The only thing in her stomach was this hard, bland breakfast cracker from earlier in the day and liters of water. As she paced the hotel suite that Magnus booked, she tried to steady her nerves the best she could.
But throwing up felt like it might be easier.
She finally got her answer about Doris not wanting to cede control to the crew. Everything Santiago and Magnus had said about those last jobs had now been confirmed in Dr. Grant’s diary. Apparently, she had feared losing them so much that she wanted to keep them busy. Was Magnus also right about Celeste’s blind devotion to Doris? Probably? Or else she would have seen Tangier and Stockholm for what they were: unorganized shit shows.
She shoved Doris’s diary across the king-size bed and rolled onto her back. When she finally had a free minute to read her mentor’s words, it had probably come at a bad time. There was no way she could match the confident thief Doris had observed. The girl she wrote about was a woman who now doubted every move she made. She doubted the man who was currently in the bathroom shaving. He leaned over the counter, wearing only a towel, shearing away blond fuzz that no one could see instead of consoling every anxiety that cropped up in Celeste’s mind.
“Why hasn’t Sebastian gotten back to us?” she asked Magnus, who wiped his face with a towel. “He said he’d be at the spot at eight thirty but didn’t give any clue as to how he’d assist us. I don’t like this, Magnus.” She hauled herself out of bed and walked to the bathroom. “Did you hear me?”
His dark blue eyes met hers in the large mirror. “I did.”
“Do you have anything to add?”
Magnus took a swipe at his jawline and washed the razor off. “I’m going to let you get all your jitters out before I interject.”
For some reason this pissed her off, but it also reminded her of what Doris wrote. Cool, slick, arrogant. That was Magnus. It was Celeste’s job to boss him around until he stopped her from spinning out on her own chaotic energy.
“Okay, then, you’ll be happy to learn that Infinity uses The Swedish National Museum as a reference in their brochure.”
“Oh, well, there you go,” Magnus chuckled. “Infinity plexiglass cases are lovely boxes to put valuables in, but they certainly aren’t theft-proof.”
“Exactly,” Celeste said, pacing the room outside the bathroom. “They’ve got the Abloy dead bolts, with compressed-air seals all along the case door, and locking mechanisms at the tops and bottoms of the doors. It’s a slick defense, but not impossible to crack. If a thief didn’t mind making a mess, the glass could be smashed after a few good strikes.”
“My dear, I think you should get dressed,” Magnus said, glancing at her through the mirror.
“Am I rambling?”
He nodded with a grin. “You’re rambling, my love.”
She sighed. When Magnus started treating her with kid gloves, she knew she was spinning like a top, threating to fling herself off a cliff, like Doris had described. Maybe once she got her gown on, she’d feel different. It usually wasn’t until she put on her mask that Celeste slipped into another woman’s confident skin. “I’ll get dressed.”
After finishing her makeup and styling her wig, Celeste finally felt a bit calmer. When she glanced into the vanity mirror and saw Magnus watching her, she realized she had transformed into another stronger woman who matched her appearance.
“You’re staring,” she remarked as she put her makeup away.
He sat on the edge of the bed, wearing an elegant black suit, smiling at her reflection. “I can’t help it,” he said. “You look enticing.”
“Thank you,” she said, giving her wig a final adjustment. It was a sandy-brown, wavy bob that fell to her jawline. Something easy and comfortable to move around in. “You clean up nicely as well.”
“And do you buy all of your gowns with scandalously high slits on the sides or are you taking a razor to them?”
She rolled her eyes as she tucked a lock behind her ear. “It’s not too scandalous.” Tonight’s off-the-shoulder gown was dark forest green and only revealed one thigh. The skirt was long and swished in beautiful waves as she walked.
“The wife of a geology professor probably wouldn’t dress so provocatively.”
Celeste sprayed a bit of perfume on her décolletage and neck. “I don’t think you’d marry a woman who doesn’t show out from time to time.”
Magnus pulled himself off the bed and made a leisurely path toward her. “You’re probably right. I don’t think I would. Especially when she puts on such a delightful show.”
She met his gaze in the mirror. “We have to meet the princess in an hour.”
“I wear a watch.”
“You have that look in your eyes.”
He stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Do I?”
The tension in her muscles instantly melted the second his thumbs kneaded the base of her neck. “You think doing this right before a job is a good idea?”
“I think it’s an excellent idea. Right now, I want to fuck you so badly I’m climbing out of my skin,” he said as his hands moved up the column of her throat. “You don’t expect me to work with that kind of tension.”
Celeste closed her eyes and let her head loll to the side as his fingers slid along her pulse. “That kind of tension can keep you alert and on your toes.” As much as she enjoyed denying him, she also wanted him. Badly.
“I work with a cutthroat thief... I’m always alert. For now, I just want to lay my sword down and pretend that I’m married to you.”
Her eyes sprang open to look at him in the mirror. His eyes were locked on her face as he continued speaking in an utterly serious voice.
“You have to admit, Celeste, there’s something attractive about pretending.”
Her heart pounded as she grinned. “I think that’s all we do, Magnus. That’s a large part of our job.”
“I quite like the performance of Mrs. Larsson in the emerald green gown,” he said, tracing a finger down the valley of her breasts. “Here she sits, dabbing her neck with perfume while her husband fumbles with his tie. I like to imagine how she’d bat his hands away so that she can take over the job.”
She tipped her head back to rest against him, luxuriating in his delicate touch. “And then pay the babysitter after we kiss the children good-night?”
“I’ve never envisioned having children in my fantasies. Only you.”
“Fantasies? Plural?”
“Since I saw you in Victor Sanderson’s party, wearing that dress, hand caught in the cookie jar, it’s been difficult to get you out of my mind.”
“You flatterer.”
“Is it working?” he asked.
Celeste slowly stood from her stool, facing the mirror. “It is,” she said to the reflection. “If we keep pretending, you can’t mess up my makeup or touch my wig.”
He brushed her hair out of the way and gently kissed the nape of her neck. “Your hair and makeup are safe from my hands,” he murmured against her skin. He ran his hand down her hip and tugged at the slit along her thigh. “I love how efficient this dress is.”
He tapped his foot between her high heels, suggesting she widen her stance. Celeste bent forward, placing her hands on the vanity’s surface. “The slits help with mobility,” she breathed.
“And the lack of panties?” he asked, hand between her thighs. His wide grin brightened his face and made her laugh. “Please tell me that’s just a dirty little secret for your husband.”
“The way your face lit up, I almost feel guilty,” she said, relaxing into his touch. His fingertips, now coated in her juices, slowly slid up and down her folds. Her elbows shook as he pulled a low moan from her. “I just didn’t want panty lines.”
“Aww, shucks,” he chuckled darkly in her ear. “You’re pulling me out of the fantasy, wife.”
From behind her, he used one hand to yank open his belt, while using the other to pleasure her. It clattered against the floor loudly as he worked to unzip his trousers. “Okay, then, we’re supposed to go to a dinner party at your boss’s house and we’ll definitely be late because of your antics.”
“Damn, he’s never going to give me that promotion and raise.”
When he entered her from the back, Celeste gasped sharply. “You work really hard, honey...”
“Pulling late hours when I could be at home fucking my beautiful wife.”
“Oh, God, yes,” she hissed. The angle of his thick dick and the sweet depth of each stroke nearly stole her voice. He fucked her deliciously slow, easing out of her and teasing her pussy as he went. The sensation of feeling the fabric of his pants against her ass as he drove into her made her feel dirty in a thrilling way.
She studied his red face in the mirror, watching how he gritted his teeth every time he thrusted. His eyes were closed as he basked in his own pleasurable sensation, but once they opened and locked on her gaze, he smiled. “You’re so beautiful, Celeste. You’re sexy, smart, talented, and I don’t know why I left you and the crew in the first place.”
“Oh, God,” she moaned, half listening to him. “Harder.”
“I was an arrogant prick,” he muttered, slamming into her faster and deeper.
“You were, and I was really stubborn,” Celeste said as he pulled her up from the table. One arm wrapped around her waist and the other was like a steel bar across her breasts. From this angle, the friction between them opened up a whole new level of pleasure. Watching herself being screwed did something else to her. Her face was flush, her eyes were hooded and his hand was now squeezing her breast. Her arousal hit a fever pitch. “I didn’t listen to you when you said we should have delayed the job. We should have waited.”
“I shouldn’t have given you an ultimatum. We could have worked it out. Together. I shouldn’t have left you.” He kissed her neck, nipping at her skin with his teeth before licking away the sting.
Celeste reached behind her to grasp his head, pressing him closer. “I don’t want to be like Doris and Sebastian,” she panted. “I just want you.”
Magnus groaned in her ear. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”
How in the hell did we go from sexy role-playing to confessing long-buried feelings? Celeste was shocked by how easy the words fell from her lips and how truthful they were. As they held each other, she’d never felt closer to him. The arousal was overwhelming. “I think...” she panted. “I think I’m going to come.”
“Go ahead and come, wife. I want to wring all the pleasure I can out of you.”
Celeste’s knees trembled as she doubled over. She caught herself on the table before her and Magnus followed her. He refused to release her and she was thankful. She wanted to feel his hot breath against her ear, feel his heart pound against her back. She wanted to be held tightly so that she wouldn’t spin out into the void. She wanted to feel protected by the person who knew her best.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck,” she chanted.
“Yes, my love. Ride it...”
She wailed as an orgasm crashed over her. My love.