Sticky Fingers: An Enemies To Lovers Romantic Comedy

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by Starr, Tara


  “I know that some of you were squeamish about me living here…” I pause for a second, just enough to glare at Peter, who’s standing right in the front row, throwing fucking daggers with his eyes. “But, as of now, none of you has any reason to be concerned about me...not that you ever did. I am a hundred percent legitimate.

  “Independently wealthy. Hell, I’ve even given up my empire of strip clubs. Maybe I’ll become a philanthropist. But wherever I go, it will be clean, with my lovely fiancée by my side. I hope that shows you the direction my life is going now.”

  “Why are you doing this, Mr. Push?” a reporter yells out from the end of the lobby. “You’ve spent years building your empire, why get rid of it now?”

  “Because,” I say, lowering my voice, as I turn to Sonia. “I found something that’s more important than having an empire.”

  She smiles at me and then turns to face the crowd as well. She takes one step forward, joining my side.

  The whole lobby begins to buzz with so many fucking questions—the reporters start battling it out to get to the front rows, and security actually has to come in and push them back.

  But the reporters keep asking more questions, building on each other.

  “Were you really behind the Atlantic Yards gambling den as people speculated?” one reporter asks.

  I ignore him.

  “Did you traffic prostitutes?” another reporter asks.

  “How much were your high-end call girls on the Upper East Side charging?” another reporter shouts out.

  I eye him. A bunch of other people pause and look over at him, too.

  “I’m j-just…asking for a friend,” he stutters when he notices the attention he’s getting.

  Security eventually calls it as too much and pushes the reporters to wait outside the building. When all the confusion subsides and only the Clarendon Tower tenants remain in the lobby, I turn to face them one final time.

  “All this is because of her.” I point to Sonia, whose cheeks are now red. “From now on, she’s the only empire I need. We’re getting married.”

  “Damn right!” Dominic’s shout erupts from the side, and Daphne punches him in the arm playfully.

  At that, the two start clapping, and, in a split second, everyone in the lobby is cheering and clapping as if their lives depended on it.

  Everyone but Peter, who has already stalked out of the lobby. The sour fucking loser can’t stand to see a happy man, it seems.

  Climbing down from the stage, Sonia and I start making our way towards Daphne and Dominic when a hulking figure jumps out of nowhere to stand in your way.

  “Congratulations, Malcolm,” Detective Strong growls, looking at Sonia without a serious expression for once. “I see you’ve gotten lucky.”

  “Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have to—”

  “Not so fast, Malcolm,” he hisses, taking one step towards me. “You’ve been tying all your loose ends, and it seems like it’s working for you...but don’t forget there’s one thing you have left hanging over your head that we still haven’t talked about.”

  “Yeah? And what might that be?”

  “The Picasso,” he growls once more, taking another step towards me.

  Jesus fuck, is he planning on kissing me or some shit?

  “I’ve closed all my investigations on you. Or rather I’ve had to. Except this one. You said you had it, didn’t you? Well, let’s see it then. You don’t want to leave this hanging over your head, do you?”

  Ah, fuck me. I forgot about that shit.

  Back then, it seemed like a smart move. Tell everyone I have the painting, lure the thief out, and then end up as the hero of this fucking story.

  I just never dreamed things would turn out the way they did.

  That Sonia would end up coming over. That I would tie her up. And then undress her.

  And she’d bring her mouth down to my…

  Anyway, back to reality.

  “Well, I don’t have it,” I say with a simple shrug.

  “Quit playing games, Malcolm!”

  “It’s true. I only said I had it because I thought I could lure the thief out...but it didn’t work. Whoever that thief was...I doubt we’ll ever find that painting again.” I pause for a few seconds, just staring into Strong’s eyes, then sigh. “But we tried, didn’t we? That’s what matters.”

  “You really expect me to believe that you pretended to have the painting to lure the real thief out?” Detective Strong asks.

  I nod.

  “But you showed people the painting!” a voice calls out.

  I see Peter Ball-Licker walking up to us. Fuck, that man listens in on more conversations than I can count.

  “You showed everyone the painting,” he echoed.

  “It was a fake,” I say slowly, wondering where this is going.

  “So, you lied to the entire building?” Peter asks. “That alone tells me that you may have sold some businesses, but you’re still the same criminal.”

  “It was supposed to lure the thief out!” I exclaim. “It was a ploy!”

  “Malcolm, listen,” Detective Strong says. “I’ve known you since you were a fucking kid. I’ve waited for the day that I wouldn’t have to worry about you going to jail. Your time to be free from me looking over your shoulder has come.”

  I’m silent.

  “But I’m not going to go easy on you just because you did ninety-nine percent of the things right and then did one very bad thing,” he says. “I don’t care about how you did this or that... All I care about is that painting and getting it back. And trust me on this, I’m going to find it, one way or another. You can mark my words. And if all this was a game to jerk me around, and if you have anything to do with the robbery…”

  “I don’t,” I growl right back at him. “Now let us go. Our friends are waiting.”

  With that, I simply force our way past the detective.

  “I’ll be watching,” I still hear him say as Dominic and Daphne wave us over.

  “And so will I!” Peter yells.

  I know you will, you assholes, I think to myself, I know you will.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Malcolm

  Fuck Picasso.

  We’re so close to leaving all this bullshit behind, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let a fucking painting ruin it.

  “Don’t mind him,” I tell Sonia as I drape one arm over her shoulders, pulling her close. “He always had a hard time letting go of things.”

  I pause for a minute before saying, “But he will.”

  “Malcolm…” she whispers, turning around and placing both her hands on my chest, stopping me in place.

  She looks up at me, and I immediately notice the anxiety dancing in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” I whisper back at her, smiling as I cup her face with one hand. “I’m clear now…we both are.”

  She bites her bottom lip, looks down at her feet, and sighs heavily. “It’s not that simple, Malcom. It’s never that simple. I’ve heard Strong, and he won’t give up until he—”

  “Listen,” I start, squeezing both her hands in mine, “we’re moving on. And there’s no one—nothing—that can stop us now. I promise you that.”

  “But you need to know,” she says, her voice trembling as she looks back into my eyes. “You need to know the truth. I’m—”

  Moving fast, I place one finger over her lips.

  “You’re my woman, Sonia. That’s all I need to know. As for the rest…I don’t want to hear about it. Whatever happens, I’ll always be by your side, and I’ll always protect you.” Smiling, I lean in and brush my lips against hers. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs.”

  She follows me in silence, the sound of the crowd in the Art Gallery vanishing the moment we step inside the elevators. Let Detective Strong and the crowd in there wrap their head around the speech I just made.

  I played my part. Now all I want to do is be with Sonia.

  “You need to know,” she in
sists, her voice barely a whisper.

  This time, I silence her with a kiss, crushing my lips against hers.

  “I know everything I need to know.”

  With that, she finally melts into my arms, eagerly pressing her body against mine. I barely register the elevator doors as they open. By the time I come to my senses, we’re already stumbling inside my apartment, my hands all over Sonia’s petite body.

  “Malcolm,” she says, giggling and squirming as I toss her on the bed and pull my shirt over my head.

  Landing on her back, she drops back, spread-eagled, until my shirt is off.

  “Get with the program, baby. Get those fucking clothes off now.”

  She starts pulling her pants down her legs instantly, taking her panties with them and giving me a show.

  “Good girl.”

  Wiggling my eyebrows, I finish undressing quickly and then stand on the side of the bed with my hands on my hips.

  Watching her undress will never get old.

  The last thing she takes off is her bra, which she casually throws over the side of the bed, looking at me with a taunting glint in her eye.

  “Very nice, babe.”

  She spreads her legs, knees bent and arches her back on the bed, exposing her glistening pussy and full breasts for me to check out.

  She looks like fucking sin.

  She looks like a fucking playmate just for me.

  “Climb up there and put your hands on the headboard.”

  Slowly, she rolls over and crawls up the bed. The sexy move gives me glimpses of her stunning pussy peeking out between her ass checks. I grab my aching, hard, and ready-to-explode cock and start stroking.

  Fuck, I want her.

  Sliding my hand up and down my length, I watch her slowly get into position over the pillows at the top of the bed. Grabbing the headboard, she widens her stance, showing off her pussy before looking over her shoulder at me.

  “Coming?”

  Grabbing the base of my cock, I squeeze hard.

  Fuck! Not if I can help it.

  Climbing up the bed. I drape my body over hers and rub my cock against her dripping folds. Her head lifts to lock lips with me, and our tongues tangled while I grab my dick.

  Then, I drop my weight to rub the head directly on her wet pussy.

  She’s all primed and fucking ready. Thank fucking God. I want her.

  Just that small taste of the outside world makes me wish we could take off for the Caribbean again.

  Placing myself at her entrance, I thread my arms under hers and grab a tit in one hand and her pussy with the other, seeking out her clit as I slide inside her warmth.

  We moan in unison at the sensation of coming together.

  “Fuck, babe. Your pussy feels so good.”

  Sliding out, I rub her clit harder, and she tightens around me before I slam back in, burying myself deep.

  Throwing her head back, she turns her face towards me and nips my jaw, panting and moaning.

  “Yes! Just like that,” she exclaims.

  Pulling out and throwing myself back inside her, our words break down into moans and gasps as I pick up the pace and fuck her fast and deep.

  Everything falls away except for Sonia.

  Right here, right now.

  Just her tight pussy and my throbbing cock, slamming home.

  Literally and figuratively.

  Her wet folds are drenching my hand as I rub her little clit furiously. She’s frozen in front of me, just bracing herself as I fuck her. Looking down at my hard cock sinking inside, I can’t help letting go of her tits to run a thumb down her crack and circle her tight asshole.

  I want in. I want all of her. When I sink my thumb inside, she keens like a wildcat in front of me, tightening around my cock and exploding with wetness on my hand still strumming her clit.

  Fuck.

  I can’t hold back and, as she squeezes and milks me, I slowly explode inside her. It’s my turn to freeze, as I bury myself inside her, dropping onto her back and shuddering. After blacking out and seeing stars, I slowly start to come back to myself.

  Sonia has her head resting in between her hands on the headboard. Running my hands up her back, I try to sooth her as I slowly pull out from her dripping pussy and fall onto my side next to her. It’s my turn to recover, spread-eagled on the bed.

  “Fucking hell. It’s a good thing I have a good heart.”

  Sonia laughs and straightens, then pretty much collapses on top of me, head resting on my shoulder and curling around my side.

  “I think you’ll be fine for a few years yet.” Her hand strokes my chest and finger-combs my happy trail, circling my cock and traveling back up.

  “I think you’ll be stuck with me for many years to come.”

  “That’s all I needed to hear.” Wrapping her arms around me, she pulls me down for a long, leisurely kiss.

  When she pushes back, I let her roll me over, so she can lie on top of me again.

  Her sweet breath lifts the hairs on my chest as she snuggles in closer.

  “I don’t want to be without you. Ever. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, Malcolm.” She lifts up her head and rests her chin on my chest, so we’re eye to eye. “And, listen…if I did steal that painting, it was because I didn’t have a man like you in my life. It was because I was missing something, and I tried to compensate by acting stupid. But now…now I have you.”

  “Well…that makes two of us then.”

  I squeeze her tighter to me, and she drops a kiss to my chest before laying her head back down.

  She feels so good in my arms, almost as if she always belonged there.

  I knew I accepted her—maybe even liked her more—because of her crazy, thieving past. But, in a way, I’m also relieved that she accepts me totally and unconditionally, and that we’re ready to shed our old skins and move forward together.

  Squeezing her tighter, I thank God that she’s mine.

  And that she’s here.

  With that thought in my head, I drift off to sleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Sonia

  Lazily opening my eyes, I smile as I see Malcolm lying by my side.

  I drape one arm over his naked chest and move closer to him, wrapping my left leg around his.

  “G’morning,” I whisper as I see him opening his eyes, then I brush my lips over his.

  “Good morning, babe,” he replies in kind, wrapping his strong arms around me and pulling me close. “Sleep well?”

  “Like a baby.”

  “Good, I need you strong and full of energy.” He laughs, one of his hands sliding down the side of my body and pushing the sheets back.

  He allows his gaze to roam over my naked body and then, grabbing my ass, he leans in and gently bites my neck.

  “Is that so?” I laugh as I run my fingers through his hair.

  “That’s exactly so,” he says, moving his lips down to my breasts.

  I arch my back as he kisses my bare skin, his lips dangerously moving toward the growing wetness between my legs and—

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  What the hell?

  Someone’s knocking at the door.

  BAM! BAM! BAM!

  Shit, and it sounds urgent.

  I feel my heart tighten as I imagine who it could be—Detective Strong, the FBI, the NYPD…God knows.

  Is it going to be like this from now on?

  Not knowing the day when someone will finally slap handcuffs on me?

  “Just let it be,” Malcolm tells me. “Whoever it is, they’ll just give up and go away.”

  “No,” I force myself to say, pushing him off me. “You have to go check it out.”

  “Nope,” he insists, trying to kiss my stomach.

  I do my best to hold back my laughter, and I just push him back once more.

  “Alright, alright, I’m going.” With that, he swings his legs off the bed and jumps inside his pants.

  Throwing a shirt on, he then walks out
of the bedroom and heads toward the entrance. I stay in bed, pulling the sheets up to my breasts.

  From the entrance, I hear Dominic’s voice.

  I sigh heavily. It wasn’t the police, thank God.

  “Jesus fuck, man, took you long enough.”

  “I was busy.”

  “Busy? What are you—oh, shit, I see.” Dominic laughs. “Sorry for that, but this is kind of important.”

  “What could be so important? I mean, it’s not even eight in the fucking morning,” Malcolm replies, and I hear him closing the door as Dominic steps inside.

  “The condo board is going fucking bananas, man,” Dominic continues, lowering his voice a bit. “They’re considering having a vote on whether you can stay or not.”

  “Stay? Where?”

  “Clarendon Tower! The assholes are actually considering kicking you out.”

  “What the fuck?” Malcolm replies, raising his voice. “It must be that asshole Peter. I’ll just pay him a visit and—”

  “Jesus, Malcolm. Chill the fuck out. Peter’s one of the voices pushing for the vote, but others agree with him...I know you came clean, and that you’re going legit. But they’re still concerned about that fucking painting. Daphne already told them she doesn’t care about it anymore, but they’re having none of it. Not with Strong snooping around. They believe you fucking stole it, man, or that at least you know who did.”

  “They’ve gone insane…” I hear the couch creak as the two men sit down. “Have they lost their fucking minds?”

  “I have no idea, but if you don’t think of a way out...you’ll end up losing the apartment. And there’s only so much Daphne and I can do. The board doesn’t really listen to us. At least not when it comes to you.”

  They continue talking, but they’ve both lowered their voices so much that I can’t hear a word. Holding my breath, I get up from the bed and walk towards the bedroom door. Pressing my naked body against the wall, I close my eyes and try to listen in.

  “Listen, Malcolm,” Dominic’s saying, “there’s no other way...Daphne has been defending you, and now they’ve already started to accuse her as well.”

  “What? That doesn’t make any fucking sense!”

 

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