Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | Sticky Fingers | |
|---|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Jenika Snow | Jordan Marie |
| Language: | English | |
| ISBN/ ASIN: | B07TLP44Q8 | |
| Book Information: | ||
Braden When you have wealth and the respect of everyone around you, it’s easy to forget how to live in the moment. There’s only so much ass kissing a man can handle. But life can be very lonely at the top, and it’s caused me to be reclusive and keep to myself. I focus on work, with no time for women. I’ve grown hard and distant with everyone, including my family. But when I come across Macy, a sexy little street thief who thinks I’m an easy target to pickpocket, I turn the tables on her. Who says blackmail can’t be sexy? She’s only supposed to be my company for a dinner party, but the more time I spend with Macy, the more I realize she’s got layers that fascinate me. I realize that one night won’t be enough. I need all of her. I need her as mine. Now I just have to show her that there are much more enjoyable ways to get sticky fingers. ****NOTE: Jenika and Jordan have teamed up again to bring you a sexy little story about a broody, alpha businessman who’s met his match, even if a little blackmail is involved. But don’t worry ... she likes it. | ||
| Books by Author: | Jenika Snow Books | Jordan Marie Books |
Braden
When you have wealth and the respect of everyone around you, it’s easy to forget how to live in the moment. There’s only so much ass kissing a man can handle.
But life can be very lonely at the top, and it’s caused me to be reclusive and keep to myself. I focus on work, with no time for women. I’ve grown hard and distant with everyone, including my family.
But when I come across Macy, a sexy little street thief who thinks I’m an easy target to pickpocket, I turn the tables on her.
Who says blackmail can’t be sexy?
She’s only supposed to be my company for a dinner party, but the more time I spend with Macy, the more I realize she’s got layers that fascinate me.
I realize that one night won’t be enough. I need all of her. I need her as mine.
Now I just have to show her that there are much more enjoyable ways to get sticky fingers.
Jenika and Jordan have teamed up again to bring you a sexy little story about a broody, alpha businessman who’s met his match, even if a little blackmail is involved. But don’t worry ... she likes it.
Macy
It’s far too easy.
Just “accidentally” bump into them, slip my hand in their pocket, while smiling the whole time, and take what I want. They never know what hit them, never suspect someone like me is stealing from them, right under their noses.
I lean against a brick wall, my hands shoved in my jacket pockets, the chill in the air letting me know winter is still hanging on. City life is busy, with most of the residents too worried about getting to their next stop, and less concerned about some young woman picking their pocket. But then again, that’s exactly what I do.
Businessmen and women hustle and bustle up and down the street, and I watch them, calculate who to pick, almost like an equation that I’m about to solve.
I see a guy, maybe an obvious choice as he seems flustered while he rushes down the sidewalk. He’s young, probably an intern at some ritzy law firm. But his tie is crooked, his shoes scuffed up. He’s probably a college kid without much money, but wants to play the part.
I pass him up, focus on someone I know I can make some money off of.
There, an older man, his suit pressed, expensive looking. His shoes are shined, designer. He’s wearing a Rolex, a diamond ring on his pinky.
He’s who I’ll take from today. No doubt his wallet is filled with cash, and credit cards with high limits.
I take a step away from the wall, about to make my move, when my gaze zeros in on someone else who piques my interest even more.
He’s tall, maybe even hitting six and a half feet. His suit screams wealth, dark material hugging his lean but powerful body. His hair is this dirty blond color, a little long on the top, but not too long that it is unprofessional. He has a day’s worth of scruff covering his jaw, and his focus is trained right ahead, his gaze never breaking, the intent on his face clear.
He screams power.
No doubt his money clip is overflowing. I look down at the briefcase he holds, the dark leather shining, the gold lock on top ensuring that whatever it contains is important and safe. He has a cell phone up to his ear, the hard expression on his face as he speaks telling me that maybe he doesn’t like what the person on the other end is saying.
Yeah, he’s going to be my target.
I run my hands over my jeans, my fingers itching to get to work. I adjust the beanie on my head, a gust of wind blowing the strands underneath it across my cheeks. And then I step out onto the sidewalk and start walking, my focus on him but my head downcast, as if I were paying attention to my feet.
Got to look inconspicuous.
We are just a foot from each other now and I sidestep, slamming into him with enough power that we both stumble a little bit. But I am fast, my fingers sticky as I slide my hand on the inside of his suit jacket, find the interior pocket, and pull out his wallet.
I quickly shove the wallet in my coat pocket then move back, raising my hands and muttering my apologies. Everything happens within a couple of seconds, and as he stares at me, his brows furrowed, he pulls the cell away from his ear and looks me right in the eyes.
I feel my heart jump to my throat. My mouth dries and my body tightens. The look he gives me is intense. “I’m sorry,” I mutter and take a few steps backward, the people all around us moving on either side as if they were water being parted. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”