“C’mon, Big John…sign me!”
Barbara grimaced inwardly as she purred the words to the handsome man with the pen. She nearly winced as he smiled politely and scrawled his name across her chest - if it was indelible ink, she was going to have to spend even more time in the shower getting it off her skin after this horrendous night was over.
That didn’t take into account the amount of time she would need to get the four gallons of gel out of her hair or the day or two it would take for the marks from this damn push-up bra to fade from beneath her breasts.
Going undercover sucked.
Detective Barbara Fremont simply hated going undercover. Especially when required to play the role of a blonde bimbo.
“My name’s Bambi.” She added the giggly whisper for effect. If the guys at the station ever heard her in full “dumb blonde” mode, she’d never live it down.
But somebody from the Springfield police department had to get involved in this case and follow where it led. Barbara had lucked out.
The store manager elbowed her out of the way and she stepped back with a frown, quickly hiding it with another vacant toothy smile. That guy was seriously asking for a well-placed spike in his foot.
And she was wearing the perfect spikes to deliver the blow.
She wandered away from the two men and let her eyes drift over the store itself. Not convinced that this was the seat of the pirated DVD ring that apparently operated out of Springfield, she once again surveyed the place and its patrons, under cover of scoping out the latest titty flick.
It had begun with a phone call to the chief from some high-placed State dude over in the capital. They’d bagged a truck with a shitload of bootlegged movies, and that truck had been registered in Springfield. If it turned out that it was an interstate matter, the Feds would be brought in.
The driver, of course, couldn’t speak English, had only a slip of paper with a delivery address in New York City and had no idea who paid him or where his load had originated.
It wasn’t exactly a dead end but it came damn close to it.
Hence the involvement of the Springfield PD, and Barbara’s current assignment - check out the video stores, locate any DVDs that might have been bootlegged, identify anybody with the capacity to produce large numbers of DVDs and do it surreptitiously if possible.
And of course it was an assignment tailor-made for anybody with Barbara’s assets - a very curvaceous bosom and a lot of unruly blonde hair. Two things she’d done her best to ignore since she first set foot in the police academy, and been studiously ignoring ever since.
Unfortunately, she was the only one who ignored ‘em.
When it came to shit like this, playing the role of idiot porn fan, Detective Fremont was top pick. She swore the guys chose the tightest outfit, the shortest skirt and suggested the worst makeup they could think of.
She resisted the urge to scratch at her scalp, lest she dislodge the beehive currently pretending to be a hairstyle. She could have opted for a wig but the whole hygiene thing bothered her. Unless it was brand new, who knew where it had been? They were good guys at her station, each and every one a straight-up officer she’d gladly have at her back if it came to a shootout. They were her friends, her colleagues - her coworkers. In that unique way of police departments everywhere, they looked out for their own.
But that didn’t mean they couldn’t indulge in a lot of horseplay within the station. And putting a sexy blonde with a 38DD bra size in their midst brought out the horseplay. No matter that she’d scored in the top five percent when it came to firearms, or aced her way through the academy.
Nope. None of that mattered. Barbara was held in warmth and affection - and ogled on a daily basis. She had a year’s supply of stripper pasties in one drawer, the biggest can of hair spray she’d ever seen in another and a book thoughtfully provided one Christmas on how to be a “Blonde”. She accepted it all with good humor and in the spirit in which it was given. The whole sexual harassment thing was ignored amongst the strength of the friendships in a squad room. Barbara trusted these guys with her life. Their sense of humor left something to be desired, but when the chips were down and the weapons drawn, they covered her back and she covered theirs. She would never ask them to change.
And here she was, flashing the assets she usually kept under wraps, in an attempt to blend into the adult video scene and track a bootlegging ring.
Life, she mused, was pretty damn funny at times. And this time the laugh was at her expense.
Jerking her thoughts back to the current situation, she let her gaze drift to Big John Johnson, the guy everybody wanted to meet. She’d read his profile, knew he was a helluva lot better educated than anybody would guess and that he was a well-respected adult film director.
She’d also seen a hint of distaste at the back of his eyes. This was a man who wasn’t thrilled to be here, who seemed surprisingly weary of the fuss and bother. Her intuition told her he wasn’t a suspect - he had too much on the line to risk it all for the sake of the money bootlegging could bring in.
And now he was talking to some mousy girl, an oddity in this world of plastic and sex. She dismissed them both from consideration. Wherever the trail led, it wasn’t going to end up with Big John, also known as Jack Foster. That much she knew for certain.
The crowd was thinning now as the night progressed. A burst of laughter from the register drew her attention back to the manager - Lou something or other. And he was a fish of a different color.
He’d snagged her interest right off the bat. She was used to being leered at, but he hadn’t. His first gaze had been - assessing. Yeah, that was the word. He’d assessed her from head to foot within two seconds. Then the heat had built and she’d got the usual wide grin and the “come right on in, sweetheart” line.
But that first impression had stuck in the back of her mind. Sure he was a businessman and needed to check out his customers. But it was more than checking out. It was a cautious and thorough appraisal of each and every person that came through his door.
He was built tough, tall with muscles that screamed “workout” on a daily basis. He had the obligatory dark stubble on his chin, blue eyes that were surprisingly clear and dark hair brushing his shoulders. Clearly the man was into the cover-model look and equally clearly the women who came in appreciated it.
Had the circumstances been different, Barbara might have done some of her own appreciating. But she was on duty and couldn’t afford the luxury of letting a guy appeal to her on a personal level. Something about this man set off alarm bells in the professional portion of her mind and she studied him with intense interest.
He missed nothing, giving coffee to Big John, chatting with customers, pointing out videos, ringing up sales - he did it all with charm and humor. And behind it was something Barbara couldn’t pin down.
She browsed more racks, moving quietly through the store, mingling as unobtrusively as was possible for a woman in four-inch heels and with most of her tits hanging out. Customers came and went, for lack of a better expression, sometimes with a purchase, sometimes not.
Barbara watched it all, cataloging anybody who might be of interest to her current case. The only one she came back to, time and time again, was Lou. Sidling up to the register, she caught his nametag.
Lou Franconi.
She filed it away in her mind and watched as Big John left with the mousy woman. Which pretty much signaled the end of the “event” and it didn’t take too long for the store to empty.
Perhaps now was her chance to check out this Lou guy. He was unsettling enough that he might have something going on, something that prickled Barbara’s police intuition. After all, who better than a manager to get into some bootleg action? He was in an ideal position to buy black market stuff at a lower rate than his usual stock, thus clearing a helluva lot more on the proceeds than the regular rate.
Yeah. He was about the only suspect she could nail down. Definitely worth a closer look. Perhaps if she played her role to the hilt, she could get him to offer her some “cut-rate” DVDs.
She pasted her “dumb” grin over her face, tugged down her clingy top another inch or so, thrust her breasts out and strolled up to the register.
“Hi.”
*~~*~~*
She had to be a hooker.
Lou couldn’t see any other reasonable explanation for the fact that Miss Supertits was still hanging around. He’d had his eye on her for most of the night, since there was something about her that made him itch.
And when Investigator Lou Franconi itched in a certain way, something was usually out of place other than his balls.
Since she hadn’t tried to steal a video, stash a vibrator down her cleavage or offer him a special deal on a shipment of bootleg DVDs, the only other alternative was that she was looking to cash in on her night by turning a trick or two.
At his expense.
“Hi.” She smiled at him, a dimpled work of art that should have melted his sneakers. But it didn’t, since he noticed the smile didn’t quite make it to her large hazel eyes.
Oh yeah. She was all about business. And the business was pointing directly at him, barely concealed by a clingy top and the frills of the lacy bra she wore beneath. He let his gaze wander over her breasts. They were beauties, and if they were fakes he’d like to shake the hand of her plastic surgeon.
In spite of himself, Lou felt a stirring tingle around his cock. He was human after all, and she was one fine piece of walking steam heat. “Hi yourself. Find anything you like?” He nodded at the racks of sexually explicit videos.
She licked her lips and once again, Lou’s cock twitched. Shit, she was good.
“Well, now you come to mention it…” Her eyes clashed with his and fuck if he didn’t hear the sound of the collision. Like glass breaking or something.
“Damn, girl. You sure have a way of looking at a man.” He leaned towards her, elbows on the counter, wondering if she’d back away a little as he closed the gap between them.
She didn’t. Instead, she leaned forward too, deepening the shadows between her gorgeous breasts. “I guess that would kinda depend on the man I’m looking at…”
Touché. Lou caught a whiff of her fragrance, something simple and floral, at odds with her appearance. He smiled, all teeth and crinkly eyes, the look he’d perfected to put women like her at their ease. “Oh yeah?”
In another place, at another time, Lou would have made a move on this one, for sure. She was hot, contradictory and sexy as they come. She wouldn’t have been a hooker and he wouldn’t have been a cop. It would have been a night to remember.
But - that was fantasy. This was reality and Lou watched her carefully.
She didn’t move at all, neither relaxing nor moving in for the kill. “Most definitely.”
Heat curled around them both, trapping Lou fair and square. “My name’s Lou.”
“Yeah. I noticed.” She glanced at his nametag. “I’m Bambi.”
“Of course you are.” He let his gaze wander very obviously to her breasts. “It’s a pleasure to…meet you, Bambi.” Her eyes flashed as he looked up again. “Both of you.”
Her husky chuckle made his cock ache. “Cute, Lou. Very cute.”
“So.” He cleared his throat. “You picking up a video or something tonight?”
“Oh definitely something.” She pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. “But I don’t know about a video. There’s several I’d like to take home and…spend some quality time with…”
Again she licked her lips, sending several X-rated visions into Lou’s brain that threatened to detonate once they got there and send his entire libido into overload.
“…But they’re kinda on the pricey side for a girl on a budget, you know?”
There it was. The come-on. She was out for money, cold hard cash. Lou’s desire withered a little. “I understand. Sometimes I wonder at the cost of some of ‘em myself. It’s hard to tell whether they’re worth it…”
He stared at the expressions crossing her eyes. She was good, but not quite good enough to keep all her thoughts hidden from his trained gaze. There was calculation, curiosity, assessment - and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a healthy dose of sexual heat.
“I’m sure they’re worth it.” She raised one eyebrow slightly, jerking Lou back into a sensual haze. “One just has to check them out carefully, doesn’t one?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He nodded. Time to push the envelope. See if she was up to his speed. He reached out his hand to her lips and extended one finger. “Open your mouth.”
Eyes widening in surprise, she did as he asked, parting her lips and jerking a little as he slid his finger in between. He pulled it out again, damp with her saliva, and lowered his hand, smearing the ink signature on the curve of her breast. “It’s a shame to see a man’s name on something so…so womanly.” He let his fingertip linger on her heated flesh. “Don’t you think?”
She didn’t bat an eyelash. “I think…you missed a bit.” She grasped his hand and raised it to her mouth once more. Carefully she licked around the finger, delicately caressing each millimeter of skin, sliding her tongue down to the webbing at its base and finally sucking it into her mouth only to release it with a little pop. Glancing down she pushed his hand to her chest and swiped at the last of the inky smudge. “There. That’s better.”
Game, set and match to the babe. Lou had to laugh. He’d been bested at his own game.
“So does that get me a discounted video or two?” She tipped her head questioningly, smiling at him. This time the smile went right to her eyes and Lou gulped. When she turned off the plastic and turned on the real woman, she was a killer.
“Meet me ‘round back in ten minutes. I have to lock up.”
“Thanks, Lou. You’re a peach.” She nodded and clicked her way to the door on those ridiculously high heels of hers. The ones that made her bare legs look about a mile long beneath her short, short skirt.
So she was a hooker and he had every intention of seeing she ended her night in the local lockup. Probably be the best thing for her - get her off the streets and out of those shoes for a while. But there was no law anywhere that said he couldn’t enjoy the experience.
It wouldn’t be entrapment.
Just fun.
*~~*~~*
She had him.
It wasn’t entrapment, since neither had mentioned any kind of special pricing on the videos or anything illegal. If he wanted to sell her a few at a cut-rate, that was between him and the store. If he wanted to sell her a few that didn’t have the correct labels on them, well, that would be between him and the District Attorney.
All she had to do was get one, prove the label was fake and she’d be home free.
He probably thought she was a hooker, by the come-ons he’d given her. But again, neither had mentioned sex or sexual acts for money. She’d keep the conversation strictly about the videos, see what he had to offer, then get the hell out as quickly as possible.
Reaching into her large bag, she felt the comforting coolness of her cuffs. And, although she should have left it at home, the familiar grip of her personal Sig P239, a nice little compact pistol that was almost brand new. The perfect weapon for carrying concealed, she’d bought herself one of them recently, knowing it would tuck neatly out of sight amidst the stuff in her bag and - crucially - not catch on anything if she had to draw it in a hurry. It was her 9mm insurance policy and a helluva lot more reliable than anything a company could offer.
Her heels clicked on the concrete of the alley between buildings as she made her way cautiously to the rear of the store and the loading dock that opened up to the stockroom. There were no trucks on the service road at this time of night - all was shadows and the murky gleam of amber street lamps.
Perfect.
Barbara fluffed her hair, told her hormones to go take a walk and tried to focus on the job at hand. So what if he was one delicious hunk of male that she wouldn’t mind a wild weekend in bed with? A lot of it had to do with the fact that her sex life was pretty much nonexistent at the moment. In fact, she couldn’t remember her last date. And wasn’t that sad?
She sighed, then straightened as she heard the keys rattle inside the store. It would seem Mr. Lou Franconi was indeed “locking up”.
The small door opened next to the loading dock and Lou came out, securing it behind him. He glanced down to see her waiting at the bottom of the stairs and smiled. “Got a little something you might like here.” He nodded at his backpack.
“Cool.” Barbara pasted a look of vacant sexual enthusiasm on her face. Or at least hoped she did. Watching him walk down the stairs with an easy stride, she was struck once more by the inherent sensuality of his moves. By the muscles that rippled under his shirt and by the attractive planes of his face. God, he was quite lovely. A work of natural grace and masculine appeal.
He joined her in the shadows formed by the concrete steps and the back wall of the store, effectively cornering her.
Shit. She wasn’t thinking straight, obviously, since this was not a good professional position to be in. Letting a possible perp corner an investigating officer was a serious lapse in judgment.
So was lowering her gaze to his crotch for two seconds, but she couldn’t stop her instincts. She looked. And there was a nice healthy bulge behind his fly.
Oh yeah, baby.
Oh no, Detective.
He leaned against the wall and produced a couple of DVDs from his bag. “How about these?”
She took the top one. Eat Your Heart Out. “Oh wow. This one is neat. Thanks, Lou.”
He moved in a little closer. “You like?”
“Um, yeah. Haven’t seen this one yet.” And it wasn’t on the damn list of bootlegged titles, either. Fuck.
“I have more. Wanna see?” His eyebrow rose as he gently ran a finger down her cheek.
“Sure. I’ll look at anything you got.” Oops. Wrong thing to say.
“I was kinda hoping you’d say that.” He reached for her hand and steered it towards his jeans. “You are getting me hot. You know that, don’t you?”
Barbara slipped into hooker-mode. He might not have any illegal merchandise, but if she read him right he was about to proposition her. She hoped he liked the thought of a night in a cell.
“I’d hoped so.” It was a provocative purr accompanied by the lightest of touches to his groin.
“Mmm.” He growled the sound, startling her a little. “I don’t usually go for this, you know.”
Lost in the sensation of heat from beneath the worn denim, Barbara had to struggle to keep track of what he was saying. “Really?”
“Really.” He pushed his hips forward, letting her feel the extent of his arousal. And there was quite a bit of extent to feel. “Wait up, here. I’m starting to hurt.” His hands unsnapped his waistband and lowered the zipper partway, revealing a serious lack of underwear and one hellaciously fine cock.
The woman in Barbara licked her lips and kicked the detective in her out of the way. This was the kind of guy who could really blow up her skirts.
“Oh my, Lou. This is a pretty damn fine piece of equipment.” She stopped short of touching him.
“Matches yours, baby.” His fingers ran around the lace of her bra, sending delightful shivers to her nipples and elsewhere. “Seems like we’d fit good. Maybe.” He moved even closer, letting his chest brush her breasts, his backpack and the videos forgotten on the stairs next to him.
Barbara shuddered as a firm hand clasped her thigh and ran up towards her buttock, sliding easily beneath the elastic of her panties.
“No thong? I like thongs.” He sounded disappointed. “But who cares? You feel good, Bambi. Real good.”
Strong fingers kneaded her buttocks and it was all Barbara could do not to moan out a sound of pleasure. This guy knew his way around a woman.
“Suppose you and I get better acquainted?” The zipper was down all the way now and something hot and hard was digging into Barbara’s flesh.
“Mmm.” She couldn’t help the sound. She was horny, aroused by the sex that had surrounded her all evening and confronted with one luscious piece of male that met all her requirements and surpassed quite a few of ‘em.
And she loved sucking cock. She was on her knees with her hands around him, inhaling his tangy scent before her mind clicked back into gear.
The cold concrete beneath her knees jerked her back from her fantasy. Time to get serious. “Is this what you’d like, Lou?”
He cleared his throat harshly. “What do you think?”
“I think you need to tell me what you like and how you like it…” She cradled him in her hands, a long silk and steel length that was swelling even more within her grasp.
“And how much?”
The question didn’t surprise her, merely raised a cautious flag in her brain. “What do you want, Lou? Tell me. Turns me on to hear you talk about what you like. Money doesn’t matter at a time like this, does it?” Carefully she touched the tip of his cock with her tongue, a light flick, no more, but enough to make him tremble.
“Fuck. I want that. Whatever it costs. I don’t care - just suck me, babe.”
Barbara made a great pretense of settling herself in front of him, while her free hand groped in her bag for her cuffs. He fidgeted as well, his hips squirming as she palmed him.
“You got cash, Lou?” She breathed the words onto his balls.
He groaned. “Whatever.”
“Okay. You win.” She leaned in for the kill and with a lightning move born of experience snapped her cuffs onto his wrist with a click.
Only to find her own wrist cuffed at the identical moment.
There was silence as they stared at each other.
Barbara spoke first. “Police officer. You’re under arrest.”
“State police investigator. You’re under arrest too.”