by Ava Frost
As soon as she was out of sight, she spit on the ground and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Smoking was a nasty habit, and floral print dresses like the one she wore were a scourge of the earth, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the good of the job. There were quite a lot of things she learned how to do in order to make her life just a little bit easier. In these situations, blending in was key.
She resumed her steady pursuit, sliding effortlessly from one group to the next and ever so slowly gaining on the unsuspecting mark until she was only ten feet away and at the cusp of his little posse. Time to make my move, she thought, and tapped the nearest girl on her bare shoulder. The weather hardly called for a tank top and miniskirt, no matter how nice it might be to have a break from heavy rain, but this teenager didn’t seem like the sensible type anyway.
“Oh, my god,” Kristina whispered conspiratorially, making a secretive motion with her hand as if that would keep anyone else from hearing. “Is that…?”
The other girl drew slightly away from the crowd. Her eyes were as round and glassy as diamonds. “It totally is,” she whispered back, completely drawn in and susceptible. Before she said anything else, Kristina casually stretched out her arm, around to the girl’s back pocket, and used only her middle finger and the very tip of her index finger to tease a couple bills away from the loose bundle of change tucked in there. “It super is. Like, can you believe it? Simon. Fuh-reaking. Danforth. Oh, my god. He’s just like a celebrity!”
Sounds vaguely familiar but whatever. Shrugging internally, the dollars safely tucked away in her purse for now, Kristina feigned a convincing gasp. “No way!”
“Totally!” the girl shrilled. Kristina stepped past her, trying to look like she was in a hurry to confirm for herself that this man in his gross luxury jacket was the real Simon Danforth. A sea of hideous pastel and offensive seam-work parted around her as the other women automatically let her go by, obviously wanting to let another in their midst for some inexplicable reason. Why women went for shallow guys like this, she had no idea.
Directly behind him now, almost breathing down the back of his neck, she looked down and saw his butt straining against a pair of dark jeans. The bulge of his wallet stood out over one cheek, no doubt filled to brimming with all manner of IDs and various credit cards, and, she hoped, a few large bills.
With the moment upon her, she reached out and slid her middle finger just beneath the lip of his pocket. Hard, slick leather beneath her skin warmed her right down to her toes with excitement. Hell, maybe I can dump out his personal stuff on the sidewalk for the idiots to pick through, and I can pawn this wallet.
In that instant, Simon the football player stiffened at her touch and turned around. Kristina snatched her hand away but it was too late. Simon held her wrist now and looked right into her eyes. With horror, she saw he wore a dopey smile that left dimples on perfect cheeks. His short hair was tousled and spiked with gel, a perfect wave.
And he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the softness just above her knuckles, like a gentleman. “Hi,” he said, and his sickly-sweet grin widened.
I may have made a mistake, Kristina thought grimly, and groaned.
Chapter 2
All through the next day, Simon thought of the mysterious woman who groped him in the middle of the street. Through breakfast, practice, and lunch break; he simply couldn’t help it, not when he’d seen the perfection looking back at him. Strangely, despite having dared to touch him where those other women treated him like an unbreakable idol, she hadn’t wanted to stick around any longer even though he practically begged her to. Her momentary show of bravery enticed him more than any amount of arrogance ever could.
And now he would never see her again, but dammit, he had to. There was no reason not to try. Jerri had just dropped him like an anchor after only three months of being together and quite frankly, he was glad. He was free again, able to sail around wherever the current of his mind took him.
It wasn’t like he didn’t have the resources to spare to find her. With no family, all his money was divided between a savings account and a smaller, primary account meant for spending. If he had to pay someone to track her down, he could absolutely afford it.
Unfortunately, the rest of his time today and for the next several days were full of training and preparation, so he had to use his free time to relax and not get stressed over the mysterious ways of women.
As luck would have it, he never even needed to pick up the phone.
Heading downtown from the subway, Simon took the long way around to the restaurant where he was meant to meet up with a friend from a rival team. He strolled through what was affectionately called the Beauty District of Cincinnati, a street devoted entirely to the latest fashion trends. He didn’t really get most of it, since everything he saw was either too flashy or inconvenient to actually be worth the price, and the makeup was gaudy –the hair was even stupider- but it was nice to walk down this way because all these people ran a lifestyle completely opposite to his. No one recognized him, and that was perfectly okay for once.
Quiet was nice sometimes, he decided, even if it meant he counted at least five different people sneering at his jacket. He didn’t like it either and just shrugged away their opinion, but it had been an expensive gift from a fan and he would be loath to just let it sit in his apartment without being used at least once.
Just as he was about to turn the corner and make his way to the restaurant, a small storefront across the street caught his eye. He didn’t know why, but he stopped in his tracks and looked at it.
Nothing in particular stood out about the little store, a timid thing of slick darkness with only the thinnest of scarlet accent around the window frame, but Simon stopped all the same and looked for the sign.
Amenable Designs, the sign proclaimed in neat, understated lettering. Before he knew it, his feet were carrying him across the crosswalk without looking. His heart began to pound. His nostrils flared for some reason but all he smelled was bubblegum perfume drifting down from the scene accessory shop a little ways back up the street. About halfway there, he found he was able to read the rest.
Complete alterations! The tiny shop promised. His walk staggered drunkenly. Simon pulled himself closer still, intrigued now through the fog of temptation which pulled him onward. Tailoring and design in the same building? That seemed odd. Normally these kinds of stores narrowed in on one focus and ran with it, but perhaps…
Through the window, he saw her.
She wore a dashing, feminine tuxedo with a blood red tie slashing down over the prim hillocks of her cleavage, and her hair was perfectly tamed into timeless, classy curls. The enchanting creature standing in the darkened interior of Amenable Designs was a far cry from the wild-haired beauty which accosted him on the street yesterday but there was no mistaking the piercing focus in those eyes, or the pert curve of her mouth.
Just the sight of her was intoxicating. All at once, he knew he had to have her. Whoever she was, she was about to be his.
Mine, he thought, and strolled around to the front door and opened it.
The woman from yesterday looked up, but she showed no sign of recognizing him. And now that he was actually inside, he realized the store was also not what it had seemed from the outside. From the beautiful, slick marble service counter to the displays of unique fabric and custom dresses, everything here spoke of dramatic beauty. And the room was larger than he initially thought, leading far into a back area which was marked only with a sign stating “Alterations” and nothing else.
Two other people stood in the store, a middle-aged man with a dainty face and a woman who he could instantly tell was louder than she looked, but they only spared him a casual greeting and twin stereotypical smiles. Somehow, they could tell he was only here for her.
“Can I help you with something?” she said, and her flat voice hit him in the stomach like an iceberg. He felt his ship start to sink a little.
&nbs
p; “I was just wondering if we’d met before,” he said, and offered his hand. “I’m Simon.”
The woman stared blankly. “Nice to meet you, I suppose. I don’t recognize you, Simon. And if you’re just going to waste my time, I’d rather you left. I’m busy here.”
Whoa. Doubt struck him. Maybe this wasn’t the same woman? Except, he would recognize her voice anywhere.
“Look,” he lowered his voice, desperately trying to play whatever game she was starting with him, “I get if you want to be discreet but there’s seriously no one in here. Why can’t we just talk for a second?”
A split second of emotion flashed in her eyes, completely unexpected. He thought he glimpsed a little fear, and it confused him deep inside. Quickly, the woman took his hand. “We’ll talk back here,” she whispered low and urgent, and pulled him into the back room.
There was a rolling table of tools and measuring tapes in the back, along with a slightly raised stage. Simon stepped up onto it as the woman urged him up, then watched with bemusement as she picked up a length of tape and knelt to hold it up to his leg. From this angle, he could see so far down past her neckline he almost caught a glimpse of her nipples.
Oh, oh. Careful, he thought, and struggled to get ahold of himself. Why is she scared?
“What are you doing?” Simon asked curiously.
She replied shortly, “Looking busy. Measuring you. What did you want? Talk quickly.”
“I just…I saw you yesterday, you know?”
“Are you going to tell the police?” She looked up. Her cold irises flashed like bitter crystals, defiant and edgy.
“What?” He had no idea what she was talking about. “No! What are you talking about? I thought you were interested me and well, I’m interested in you, and I thought maybe I could ask you out for a coffee or something.”
This woman whose name he still did not know immediately started to rewind herself like an old VCR tape, mentally backing up. “Oh,” she said, carefully. She stood. The measuring tape went back onto the table with all the rest. “Oh. Well, Simon, I’m sorry, but I really don’t care for football idiots like you. And I have a business to run with no time for distractions. Thanks for your time but I’m really going to have to ask you to leave now.”
No! I found you again by some miracle, I’m not letting you go again until I at least know your name!
Chapter 3
Having Simon show up on her doorstep was the last thing she expected to come of today. In light of her poor performance regarding him, she had elected to take the day off from her first love of pickpocketing and focus on her second. Amenable Designs allowed her to lift just a little bit more than she might have otherwise, rifling through the pockets of the garments brought into her, and it also gave her a way to study the upcoming trends. Knowledge was power. Knowing how and where people were expected to keep their personal items when they dressed gave her an advantage over others with her set of particular skills.
Harry and Veronica were innocent, her designer and tailor, respectively. They knew nothing of her acts of ill repute, only that she occasionally gifted them with unexpected bonuses whenever a haul turned out particularly well. As the boss, she came and went from her own store throughout the day as she pleased and no one was the wiser as long as she occasionally returned to give a recommendation or answer questions.
Up until now, everything had gone so smoothly she could hardly believe her luck. No one caught her and somehow no one recognized her. Yet, this bumbling football player managed to track her down without even knowing what was going on.
Well, he might be bumbling, but he is attractive.
Kristina felt her resolve die a little as she accidentally met his pleading gaze. It seemed like there might be only one way out of this situation but at least she could enjoy it.
“Look,” she said, “is all you’re here for really a date?”
“Yes!” Simon exclaimed, bouncing on his toes like a puppy. He cleared his throat then and visibly tried to gather himself. “I play for the Bengals. You might have noticed my jacket, seeing as how you’re a designer. And stuff like that.”
Smooth, she thought sarcastically. “Yes, I noticed your jacket. I hated it.”
He leaned in and whispered as though sharing a secret. “Me too.”
Her heart pounded in her chest, fit to leap out her throat. Just sex, and then I can get him out of here for good.
She knew where he kept his wallet.
Simon watched, his breath growing ragged and excited as she took two dainty steps right into his arms and lifted her face to his. “Let’s skip the date,” she whispered, and reached around behind him to lay her hands on his firm butt. The bulge of his wallet pressed against her palm, and she stroked her hand up an inch or two to reach in with her finger.
“Let’s just assume that I liked you for some reason.”
Teasing her finger down to touch his wallet, she snatched it up and out in one quick movement and then slapped the now-empty pocket lightly. He yelped with surprise, but she grabbed him with both hands again, having tossed his wallet to the floor to disguise the thump with the sound of his own making.
“Let’s assume I wanted anything to do with you after I found out what a big, dull lug you are.”
His eyes flashed with only the smallest amount of hurt, which let her knew he wasn’t listening quite as intently as he should have. His eyes were glazing over even as she watched, to the point here she knew he saw nothing anymore. Sliding her hands around to his front, she teased the bulge pressing the front of his jeans into an impressive tent with one hand. With the other, she deftly undid his belt and had it snaking away from the loops and dropping into a coil on the floor before he knew what was happening. He didn’t seem to notice when she unsnapped his jeans, leaning forward to his neck to brush her lips on his skin while speaking.
“Let’s skip over all that stuff and just get right down to it, okay?” Her tongue flicked out, tracing a wet path up the hollow of his throat. In the time it took for him to gasp, she yanked down his zipper. He still hadn’t noticed what she was doing.
“O-okay,” he panted. “But…what about…those other people?” His hips arched off the wall behind him, pressing for her attention.
“They know not to bother me when I’m busy,” she whispered, but it turned into a growl. Her own excitement rose to a tremulous crest as she slid her hand deep inside his jeans and grabbed his hard length and pulled it free.
Only then did he notice, and looked down at himself throbbing in her hand. “Oh,” he groaned, and his eyes snapped shut with pleasure. His member twitched in her hand. Her grip tightened around him.
I don’t know how you found me but I’ll make it worth my while.
Her mouth opened, teeth pressing against the delicate softness of his neck. Simon whimpered and shook in her grasp, putty in her hand as she began to stroke up and down his length with even pressure. “Don’t stop,” he whimpered. “Keep going. More. I’m so glad we went on that date.”
His wit surprised her and she laughed, breath hot on his skin. Want throbbed between her legs, pure desire for the shape of him and how their bodies would meld together. He was a professional athlete and now that she was committed to this, she was just beginning to realize exactly what that meant for this act they were about to perform together.
She undid her pants and shoved them down out of the way while stroking him still. His broad, rough hands reached out and pulled at the front of her shirt, ripping the buttons open so he could slip his fingers up under her bra. Her nipples peaked under his rubbing fingertips, sending a trail of electric sparks all the way down to her very inner core.
A tickle of wetness ran down her inner thigh, soaking the soft patch of panties between her legs, and then she yanked those out of the way, too.
Simon’s nostrils flared as he caught her musky scent of readiness, and he ripped his hands away from her breasts and grabbed her around the waist. Kristina barely managed to muffle
her shout of surprise as he lifted her up and spun her around to press her back against the wall. Her legs rose to wrap around him, surrendering to the power of his will, and as be began to press her against the wall and sink himself towards her, she held his rigidness and helped guide it deep within her.
Her head tilted back against the wall, ruining the hair she slaved over for half an hour that morning. Pure delight at the slick rubbing of him deep inside her made her mouth fall open. He sank his lips down on hers and kissed her roughly, a hungry predator devouring her, the prey.
Never before had she felt so captured, and the reversal of the role from which she knew so well thrilled her with an equal mixture of trepidation and wonder. Too far in over her head now to stop, and unwilling to do such a thing anyway, Kristina wrapped her arms around his neck and manage to pull back just enough to speak breathily against his lips. “Pounce on me, tiger,” she said.
His eyes flashed. His nails dug into her hips, and he pressed her against the wall. Kristina held onto him as best as she could, and braced herself to take him as he reared back and then plunged deep inside again. Sinking up to his hilt, he immediately pulled out again and then began to thrust in earnest.
The motion of his body rocked hers with him, and she gave herself up to it. Only in the back of her mind did she remember she must still be quiet, but his mouth on hers swallowed their whimpers anyway. He throbbed and pulsed inside her. Wetness covered her inner thighs. Already her body began to buck and writhe against the wall, her naked butt thumping back in steady rhythm with him.
Yes, yes, yes, she thought. Her mouth opened beneath his, a soundless scream of pleasure which he took with his tongue.
“Yes,” he growled to her. “Come on.”
“Make me,” she snapped back, and he was only too quick to oblige. Hefting her higher up on his body, Simon lifted her slowly all the way off himself and then let her drop back down abruptly.
