pulling me back toward him. I gasped for air, flushed and panting as he drove himself into me over and over until he reached completion.
Hayden pulled me to him, penetrating me deeper than ever before. He felt massive inside of me, stretching me wide open, claiming me as his own. The intimate invasion caused renewed pleasure to ripple through my exhausted body. I involuntarily let out a deep, satisfied sigh as I slumped to the table beneath him.
Behind me, I could hear Hayden’s breathing, erratic and labored. In fact, I wasn’t sure but I thought I could even hear his heart beating in his chest. “D aniella,” he muttered as he struggled to regain his composure, “You’re going to be the death of me. But at least I’ll die the happiest man in the world.”
To know that my body had given him such pleasure was gratifying. But even though it was merely an expression, the mention of death sent a chill through me. Though there was nothing I’d rather do t han curl up in Hayden’s arms, I knew we needed to get moving. “The gallery,” I reminded him as I stood on unsteady legs.
Wordlessly, he offered me his arm. With Hayden stead ying me, we made our way to the small campus gallery. I immediately led him past the wall displays to the out-of-the-way storage room where I’d discovered the painting I suspected was the stolen original piece.
Even though he didn’t come right out and say it, I could tell Hayden had his doubts. He pulled the brown paper back gingerly and spent long moments just staring at what was concealed within. “I’ve never seen such a convincing print before,” he murmured, sounding impressed but dubious.
“So it is a print?” I asked anxiously, feeling let down. I’d been hoping for his sake that he’d find what he was looking for, no matter how unlikely that may be.
He didn’t answer . Instead he crouched down in front of the canvas and squinted at it. As I looked on barely daring to breathe, he examined every inch of the piece. I watched as his brow furrowed. Suddenly he seemed less sure of himself than he’d been moments earlier.
“Hayden?” I pressed, biting my lower lip.
“It doesn’t make sense,” he finally whispered, half to himself.
“What is it?”
He looked at me then and I saw the wonder in his eyes. “You were right,” he told me, seeming as though he was in a bit of a daze. “This is the original. But what’s it doing here of all places? It doesn’t make sense at all.”
I, of course, had no answer for him.
“We should get this out of here,” he announced as he abruptly stood up. He carefully pulled the paper back around the painting and repackaged it for transport. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll have someone meet us here right away.”
“Hayden, I’m not so sure about your security team…”
“Neither am I,” he said immediately, alleviating my fears. It was clear the doubts I had were shared, and rightfully so. “Don’t worry, I’m not calling them. I’ll get someone I trust to come for us.”
I looked down then at the key tightly clutched in my fist. I was squeezing it so hard that it was probably going to leave an imprint on the palm of my hand. “I should return this to the night janitor before he comes looking for it,” I told Hayden. “Do I have time?”
“Can’t you leave it?”
I hesitated. “I promised I’d return it,” I told him. It was silly. Even in that moment, I recognized that it was silly. But I’d always thought of myself as a woman of integrity and lately I’d been thrust into such a bizarre scenario that I’d been telling little white lies left and right. I’d made a promise to the night janitor and, no matter how insignificant, I wanted to keep it.
Hayden didn’t argue with me. He could probably sense my reluctance to leave without fulfilling my promise. “We’ll have to hurry,” he cautioned.
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