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Olivia’s birth father, known by most as Fast Talking Freddie, was a small time criminal in the south. He stuck generally to local jobs, stealing jewelry from pawnshops or breaking into safes their owners thought impenetrable. He was good at being invisible, good at picking locks and leaving before anyone noticed something was missing, but what he really excelled at was talking. It was how he got the numbers to the safes and the jewelry out of their cases. Two minutes with him and he’d have you believing he was the governor of Oklahoma, needing to borrow those diamond cuff links for an official campaign party.
Olivia even told Justin years ago, that she suspected her mom and dad were never really in love at all, that she was just another challenge her father had decided to pursue. But her mother didn’t mind, her mother wouldn’t have had it any other way. She left him on her own accord before Olivia turned five, and remarried a wealthy landowner in Mississippi not six months later.
Olivia told Justin, late one night when their plans for wealth and glory had just begun to take shape, what her mother had said.
“There’re only two things that man will ever love.” Olivia repeated, her southern accent becoming heavy and pronounced, in what Justin assumed to be her mother’s voice.
“And what are those?” Justin questioned, running his fingers up and down Olivia’s naked arm.
Her mother’s voice answered, “Money and you, Livvy, money and you.”
Justin chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips and rolling on top of her. “Your dad and I have a lot in common.”
And what Olivia’s mom had said was true, it was why Olivia was given his lucky pistol the night before he died, doing a job he knew was too big and too grand for his skills. And more importantly, why on that same day her father let her in on his best kept secret. For seven years, he had been working on a list, a list of ten banks with the greatest amount of money kept on hand, all leading to Miami, the final bank, and a million ways out of the country.
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Justin and Olivia try something new in Pittsburg. The two of them stroll into the bank together, guns at the ready, smiles on their faces, and ropes in their hands. Justin says it’s just another way to get things done, but Olivia knows it has everything to do with the bank manager in Detroit almost taking her gun.
“We’ve got it from here.” Justin tells the bank manager with a happy smirk, leaving him tied up with the others.
He trots down the stairs to the vault, his tommy gun strapped across his back, whistling Sinatra and snapping his fingers. When he returns to the safe Olivia is stuffing their bag with bundles of money and it doesn’t even look real, the new banknotes an unnatural shade of green.
She’s in heels and a trench coat and he reaches for the belt, swinging her around until her back is pressed against the metal shelves along the wall. The first place he kisses her is the underside her wrist because he’s greedy and he wants her skin and her pulse all at once.
“What are you doing?” Olivia says, arching an eyebrow as he grabs the bag and lets it drop to the floor.
“You.” He answers, eying her with a predatory gaze and untying her trench to expose her neat sweater and pencil skirt.
“Here? Let’s just get the money and go. We’re already on borrowed time.”
“We live our lives on borrowed time, baby,” he says, cupping her cheek in his hand and smudging his thumb across her bottom lip. And when he leans in to kiss her, their faces are so close he could count her eyelashes if he wanted to, but they don’t have the time, they haven’t had time for a while.
Justin grasps the back of her neck, holding her steady and she sighs as his tongue slides hotly against hers. His kisses are everywhere, her jaw, the length of her neck, back to her ear, and she moans when his teeth tug at her earring, his breath hot and his mouth moist. The pads of her fingers press to his cheeks, feeling the two days growth of stubble they planned in a feeble attempt at disguise, though they know it’s unnecessary. She arches her back, letting her hips grind against Justin’s thigh, where he’s hot and throbbing under his zipper. He can feel her through his trousers, warm and wet already, just from his lips on hers.
Justin’s hands move from her neck to the hem of her skirt, to soft cotton and to softer skin. She kisses him again, fiercely this time, like she’s trying to memorize the moment, with the feel of his hands smoothing up her thighs and the cool metal at her back. He tastes warm and smoky – like the ultimate adrenaline rush and it makes her light-headed. Then his hands are on her panties. They rip like paper and his fingers slip through the shreds of lace left over.
A breathless oh is released into his mouth as he touches her lips with calloused fingers, circling her clit until she goes limp in his arms. And she wants to undo his belt and unzip his slacks, but when their eyes lock when his fingers find her center all is forgotten. She’s slick with need and his lips tug upwards into a smirk that says is this for me? And she feels herself flood even more, nodding her head yes at his unspoken question. He slides a finger in easily, stroking her a few times before adding another and she’s not even kissing him anymore, just pressing her open mouth against his and moaning helplessly. He curls his fingers inside, hitting her g-spot effortlessly and Olivia lets out a loud, “Oh, fuck!” her head falling back to slam against the wall, making the metal drawers rattle and echo up the stairs.
Before she can tell him he shouldn’t, that they don’t have the time, Justin is on his knees. He throws one milky white leg over his shoulder, grinning at her devilishly and placing wet kisses up her thigh. By the time he makes it up her leg her fingers are tugging at his hair impatiently, trying to press his mouth to her pussy. He gives a chaste kiss to her slit, his blue eyes, now dark with lust, watch her face as he does it. She nearly comes from the sight alone, and she’s almost ashamed at the unabashed whimper she makes until he ducks his head again and swipes the widest part of his tongue across her moist slit, bottom to top. Olivia groans, her hips grinding in the air, a futile attempt at friction once his tongue leaves her body.
“You like that, baby?” Justin asks, his mouth centimeters away, his voice gravely, the vibrations from his speech sending sunbursts of pleasure behind her eyes. She wraps her hands in the short strands of his hair pushing his head back between her legs as she hisses out a gasping, “Yes.”
She has more to say but is cut off when Justin’s tongue makes contact with her clit, and it dissolves into a helpless groan. She watches, his eyes are closed, and she can see the muscles in his jaw clinch and relax as he works his mouth over her. His tongue never leaves her clit, sucking and licking, but it feels like he’s everywhere at once, and when he slides one long, talented finger into her tight heat she’s done for, coming apart under his mouth.
He smiles as he pulls back, sucking on his own finger to clean off her juices as he places her wobbly leg back on the ground. Justin captures her mouth in a kiss that tastes like her but it’s cut short because her breath is still ragged. When they break away his hands are at his fly, unbuckling, unzipping until his pants and briefs are puddled around his ankles. Olivia reaches out for his cock, running her thumb over his slit and together, they groan when she angles him so the head of his cock finds her entrance, dripping now, soaked from her first orgasm.
“God, Liv,” He mumbles, his chin tucked to his chest as he watches as she moves his head to slip between her lips and then up to tease her clit. Olivia’s free hand grips his shoulder and her nails bite into the skin of his neck when he presses in again, struggling, but managing to stopping once just the head is sheathed. Justin grabs at her thigh, wrapping it around his waist and he watches her face when he slides all the way in with one swift thrust.
“Oh, fuck,” she says, breathless, and her head knocks against the wall again. She bends her knee, making him stutter step towards her, and it just pushes him in deeper.
Then she’s off the ground, Justin’s large palm warm on the back of her thigh, moving her other leg to hook at the ankle around his waist. It sends him even deeper and when she looks up at him, his plush bottom lip is pulled between his teeth in pleasure and his cheeks tinged pink with the strain, she almost comes right then. Olivia can feel him twitching inside her, and she rolls her hips experimentally, jumping when her clit rubs against his pubic bone. He starts slow, his hands sliding from her thighs to her ass, grabbing it roughly and slamming her against him. One of his hands move to brace himself against the wall and she wraps her arms around his shoulders to balance them. They can’t use their names, so when Justin starts to pound into her she chants the second best thing.
“oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.”
They’re loud. Louder than normal – with hands and backs and hips slamming against the metal drawers. Olivia’s gasps and Justin’s low moans rumble from his chest to echo up the marble stairs where the workers are still tied up and he knows they can hear them. But fuck, it just makes him harder. He’s working her hard, pounding into her with a primal lust she hasn’t seen since they first met. They reach a point where she can barely tell when he leaves and enters her body, all she feels is the glorious pleasure created by the frantic plunge of his cock in and out her. One of her shoes falls off, landing on the hard floor with a clatter when he slams her into the wall again. Her hands are fisting in his hair, pulling his head back so she can lave at the column of his neck, sucking at his Adams apple, biting where his shoulder and neck meet.
His right hand lifts from where it was gripping her ass to pull her mouth away from his neck. Their eyes meet and she’s so close, so close, watching his brows furrow in pleasure, fighting to keep his eyes open. Justin’s lips collide hers in a fiery kiss and when their tongues touch Olivia comes again, clenching around his dick and bucking her hips against his pelvis. Both Justin’s hands grab her ass to make sure they don’t tip, but his thrusts remain steady through her orgasm, his teeth biting at her bottom lip to keep her from yelling his name. He feels that familiar pull in his belly that tells him he’s almost there, and not seconds later he comes, spraying load after load into Olivia, holding still until he’s completely soft inside her.
His forehead falls to her shoulder, where the cashmere of her sweater does nothing to quell the burn he feels everywhere. Her legs slide down his, unsteady at first, like a newborn doe, before she finds her bearings. Justin lifts his head, though it takes more energy than he’d like to admit, and reaches down to pull his briefs and pants back up his legs. He almost laughs when, as soon as her skirt is back at an appropriate length, Olivia begins where she was interrupted, stuffing more money into their bag.
“We can’t forget these, can we?” Justin asks with that trademark bank robber smirk, her red lace panties dangling in shreds from his index finger.
Olivia’s head shoots up and she’s surprised to feel herself blush when he answers his own question and tucks them in the breast pocket of his suit, her panties now acting as a new pocket square.
They leave the bank wearing rumpled clothes, flushed cheeks, and satisfied smiles only the best kind of sex can bring. As they pass the people, tied and gagged just as they were left, a ring with a large ruby solitaire glints at Justin. Without hesitating he wiggles it off a shocked and fearful bank customer before sliding it onto Olivia’s middle finger.
“Couldn’t have picked a better one myself,” he says, staring at the ring and then back to Olivia. He throws an arm around her waist, the other carrying the black leather bag as they walk out the bank doors into the late morning sun of February.
