“Oh, baby,” he said. “I don’t want to stop.”
“Then don’t.”
“I have to. I can’t wait. I have to have you. You’re pink and wet and ready, and I can see how much you want it. I do, too. I have to fuck you, Lina. I don’t think I can go another minute without being inside you.”
I felt dizzy from his words, only barely aware of him behind me telling me to spread my legs. My ass tingled, and that only added to the sensation as he moved closer behind me. One hand cupped my breast, then spread me wide so that he could thrust inside me, deeper and deeper as I bent over, looking down at the city lights below as Evan lost himself inside me.
He slid his hand around and teased my clit, mimicking the rhythm of his thrusts, and as I looked out over the city below—as I felt every tiny particle that made up Angelina Raine spin and buzz and fire—I knew that I was nothing more than sensation. Nothing other than the embodiment of surrender. Whatever he wanted from me, he could have, if only he would give me this sensation, this joy. This permission to surrender in absolute safety and protection.
Because there was nowhere else for me than Evan’s arms.
And as I exploded out over the Chicago lights, I knew that no matter what happened, I would always belong to this man.
The walk-through with Neely was scheduled for Saturday, and I spent that entire morning alternating between fear and excitement. I had to change shirts twice because I was sweating so much under my arms, and I finally dragged Evan into the shower and made him fuck me blind, just so that I could get what was coming off my mind.
It worked, but only until we were dressed again.
“Thank goodness the appointment’s early,” I said, glancing at the time on my phone. “If we had to wait until this afternoon, I don’t think I could stand it.” I glared at Evan. “How are you so calm, anyway?”
“Years of practice,” he said. “And I only look calm. A little bit of nervous energy is good before a job. It keeps you careful.”
“Then I’m the most careful person on the planet right now.”
He pulled me close and kissed me deep. “It’s going to go fine. Remember, you’re working with a very experienced team.”
“Which makes me the weak link.”
“Which makes you the energetic new blood.” His phone dinged, and he glanced at it. “They’re in front of the building,” he said. “Let’s go.”
We met Cole and Tyler in the BAS Security van, and drove together to Victor Neely’s Winnetka house. He greeted us at the door, gushed in a too-polite, too-obsequious way over what a wonderful man my uncle was, and led us up to the gallery.
I caught Evan’s eye as we climbed the stairs and saw that his reaction was the same as mine—neither one of us liked the guy, and for a second I wished we could just blow this whole thing off. After all, if this thing went as planned, he’d end up with the real Creature Notebook and we’d have a fake.
It hardly seemed fair.
We reached the gallery and stepped inside once Neely disengaged the security system. “It’s a wonderful space,” I said, as Evan detached himself to go with the lanky security captain who’d accompanied us to the gallery. Cole and Tyler stepped inside and started scoping out the area, asking Neely questions about size and security and claiming that all the information was for insurance purposes.
Neely answered everything without hesitating, and when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket as per our plan, I told Neely that I’d like to discuss the placement of the food and drinks in relation to the movement of the guests. “I was thinking we could set up a cocktail station over here,” I said, pulling him around toward a wall lined with framed pages from various historical manuscripts. My back was to the wall so that I was facing the interior of the gallery, and Neely was facing me, his back to Cole.
“We can keep the food and drink around the edge of the room,” I said. “That should help traffic flow.”
“Whatever you want,” he said easily—and quickly. Too quick, actually, because it had only been twenty seconds. He was about to turn around, and if he did, he’d see Cole with his hand inside the supposedly locked case, and then we would all be screwed.
Tyler met my eyes, and in that split second, I knew that it was all on me—and even though I had no conscious thought about how to get us the hell out of this mess, I was still in motion. I took a step forward, pretended to trip, and grabbed hold of Neely’s arm as I went down to the ground, losing my shoe in the process and scraping my knee on the rough wooden floor.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, as he stopped his turn and immediately bent down to fuss over me. “The heels on these shoes, they’re—”