She glanced around. Beautiful artwork by Picasso and Rembrandt were meticulously placed on the walls. She gasped and walked over to a large portrait of different-hued triangles of orange, black, and red.
"Isn't this Tigre Real?"
"Ah, you know of Salvador Dali's work. He was a good friend of mine." He whispered the latter so low; she didn't acknowledge she'd heard it.
"Yes," she said, putting down her bag. "I'm a huge fan."
"Then tonight you shall be heaven. In those crates are precious art antiquities that must be catalogued quickly. You may see things you'd never thought possible. Settle in; I will return in a moment."
"Okay," she muttered, still entranced by the picture. "Wait, Caleb." She turned to head for the door. He popped in his head so quickly, she bumped into him.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Mika couldn't speak; afraid if she did, he would stop gliding his hands up and down her bare skin. Her clit began to tingle as a warm sensation swept over her body. This time she couldn't help but shiver.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, leaning closer to her face.
She stared at his lips as if she were a hungry predator ready to attack but fighting the urge to actually taste him.
"Yeah, I just wanted to thank you for saving my ass outside." Her voice came out in a hushed whisper.
Caleb pulled her close, looking over her shoulder at her ass then back into her eyes. "It's a helluva ass. I'm sure we can find a way for you to thank me." He slapped her bottom playfully then walked out.