Miss. Manipulation (On Hold)

Chapter One

Oh god, cringe, I thought internally. This guy was going to fall right into my lap. At least make it a challenge.

"You should see what I can do with this body, that could be considered illegal in some places." I whispered as I turned to face him, placing my hand on his arm and squeezing lightly, feeling his muscles bunch under my touch.

"Your drink." The bartender told me, before placing my it down on the bar and waking away. I guess it was on the house, my looks tended to do that. I wasn't in love with myself or anything but I wasn't going to pretend that my looks didn't get me things or that I was ugly to make others feel better. Besides, with a crazy job like mine, being hot was the number one on the job description.

"Whiskey, interesting choice. I had you down as a martini type of girl." My new male companion told me, stepping closer so that I could feel his breath fan my cheek and his expensive cologne invade my senses.

"Oh honey," I replied softly before picking up my drink and taking a long lingering sip. I watched his eyes follow the movement of my lips before I placed my drink back down and stepped forward, pressing my body against his, so he could feel every inch of me as I brought my lips up to his ear. "You have no idea what type of girl I am."

I felt his body shudder just from the simple act of my lips brushing ever so gently against the lobe of his ear. "I'm Paul. What's your name?" He managed to get out after regaining his composure.

"Do you really care?" I replied simply, moving my lips across his cheek and down his neck ever so slightly. I was aware that I had caught the attention of people nearby but I pushed the inquisitive eyes to the back of my mind and focused on the job at hand.

"Do you want to get out of here?" He almost moaned as I continued my onslaught on his neck, feeling the artery throb against my lips.

This was too easy! I liked it when I had to use my full skill set in order to get them to take me home. This wasn't any fun.

"Let's have a few drinks first." I told him before pulling away and flashing him yet another seductive smile that made his eyes turn dark with desire.

It was a rule, they had to be drunk before we left, it was easier that way. It was easier because when the guy woke up in the morning with an empty bed and a banging headache, he would hardly remember my face. That means that police reports would never be filed, due to the fact that they wouldn't be able to put a face to the crime if they ever found out what I had taken, not that they would... I was great at my job. The contact at the police station was also a help.

I called over the bar tender and ordered us a round of shots, which Paul insisted on paying for. I watched him down every shot I passed his way, only pretending to down mine when he looked in my direction.

Ten shots later and I knew for certain that he was drunk enough for me to go back with him.

I slipped my hands up his chest and grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket, the expensive material feeling good against my skin. "Let's leave, now." I demanded with fake lust swirling in my eyes as I looked directly at him.

"Yes ma'am." He replied huskily.

I led him out of the club and into an awaiting taxi outside, him following my every step like a like an obedient dog. Oh how I loved making men fall to their knees, only to crush them with their own lust and desire.

I crawled into the seat and Paul followed, he muttered his address to the taxi driver quickly before his large hand was stroking the inside of my thigh and his lips were brushing against the underside of my ear.

When I first started this job, I would occasionally get turned on by what the men would do to me. A gentle caress in the right place or a hot kiss here or there did once excite me but after four years of doing this, I felt almost, bored. A big part of my job was acting, the rest was down to my incredible sex and stealing skills. I do enjoy myself don't get me wrong, but the thrill of the chase when men tried to resist me and the stealing part of my job got me off more than the actual men did.