The thick, firm warmth of his manhood presses into me gently at first before slipping deeper and deeper.
He kisses me as he begins to thrust. There’s no calculated rhythm here, no calm and methodical approach. We’re both pushing against each other, grinding, our movements jerky and wild. I tremble with sensation, with greed. I breathe “More!” and “Harder!” until he’s battering me with all he’s got. I arch against him, groaning much tooloudly for the circumstances. But I’m too far gone. I don’t care anymore.
Changing the angle ever so slightly, he gives me a deep, energetic thrust, and I’m finished. The first wave of a powerful orgasm roils within me, followed by another one, stronger and sweeter, and another, and another.
His pushing and pulling grows wilder still. There’s a crazed desperation in his heaving grunts as he buries his face in my shoulder. I know he’s coming from the way his taut flesh throbs and pulses inside me, even before he bites the material of my dress to muffle his groan.
Weakened and elated by my own orgasm, I cling to him, nearly sobbing. We stay like that for a moment, letting the sensations ebb. Then he tightens his grip on my hips and lowers me gently to my feet.
Silently, we sort ourselves. The room that reeked of synthetic lemongrass when we walked in now smells of sex.
As Max buckles his belt, I extend my hand toward him, palm out. “My panties, please.”
“No can do.”
“Excuse me?”
“This heist just escalated to a hostage situation.” Eyes laughing, he folds my fingers over empty air. “Your panties are coming with me.”
18
LUCIE
We listen at the door. The silence is so perfect I can hear a clock ticking.
Max gets his burglar’s tool and opens the door from inside. We sneak out and tiptoe to the display with Gran’s fan. The magic lock picker is put to good use once again. Lo and behold, the lock—a fairly basic one, even to my unprofessional assessment—gives in with a faint click. We open the lid, remove the fan and slink back to our refuge.
Max toggles his flashlight brighter. Using his miniature toolbox and my knowledge of old fans, we take the handle apart. It’s hollow inside, like he said it would be. Except there’s no key or anything resembling a key in the secret compartment. It’s empty.
We fit it back together and place it in the display case.
As we carefully close the lid, I don’t say anything. Nor does Max. But his expression is grim, all playfulness gone from his handsome face.
“Back to square one,” he mutters, disappointment hardening his features.
I feel sad for him.
It’s true that he never told me what door the key we’re after was going to open, or why that door can’t be opened in some other way. Given that we’ve come to Lyon on a MINDFUCH assignment, this can’t be related to a personal or family-related matter. But, looking at Max’s face now, I’m tempted to think it is.
“What now, Boss?” I point at the storage room. “We try to get some sleep standing in our den or lying outside on the floor?”
Personally, I’d go for standing if it involves his embrace.
I sneak a look at him. His expression hasn’t brightened. If anything, it’s darker now. I called him “boss,” which is ludicrous after what we did in the closet. But I did it on purpose. It was a tease, an attempt to make him smile, or smirk, or give me a hooded look. But he does none of those things.
So, I speak again, a sudden fatigue lacing my voice. “Or maybe we try to exit this charming museum? Perhaps through a window?”
“I’m nearly certain we’d set off an alarm if we try to open a window, let alone the main door.” He points toward the storage room. “We can camp just outside by the wall. I’ll keep watch so you can sleep. When the museum opens up, we’ll retreat into the closet, and once the first visitors arrive, we’ll sneak out and leave.”
“We’ll take turns at sleeping. I insist.”
He nods once.
We head to the wall. He sits down, leaning against it and stretching out his long legs. I settle next to him, using his thigh as a pillow.
“I’m going to send some texts and emails,” he whispers, fishing out his phone. “Promise me you’ll tell me if the light from the screen bothers you?”
I close my eyes. “I promise.”
