Jewels

Scene 1: Limo ride to nowhere

HIM: You’re a jewel thief – a clever one. You’ve run oh so many scams and nobody has managed to catch you yet. It helps that you’ve also got a way with the ladies – and don’t you know THAT!

You’ve got a great cover disguise – your own alter ego as a 30s something multi-millionaire, new in town. Being 5’10’’, slim, with thick black hair just touching the back of your collar and piercing black eyes which come from your half Middle Eastern heritage, doesn’t hurt either. The overall package, plus your limo, you think cynically, sure does reel in the babes.

There’s one watching you now as you sit drinking your whisky in a shadowy corner of the bar. She’s giving you the eye and it’s not long before she comes over.

“Don’t I know you? You look so familiar.”

Of course that’s a line if ever you heard one…usually one of yours…but nothing in your face gives you away that you know it’s fake….now to reel her in with some lines of yours. Strangely, she doesn’t seem your usual type, or the type that would come after you. Still, you’re intrigued despite yourself.

The businesslike, serious looking ones aren’t normally the ones who come after you….not like this.

Serious, hell yeah. Mahogany chestnut hair pulled back sharply into a bun that would look way better as a long pony tail... to be pulled on in my master bedroom…..because I AM a master. She’s wearing a straight black skirt, formal dark jacket…very businesslike. All except for the sexy wisp of white lace i catch tantalizing glimpses of every time she leans over….which seems to be often. And besides, a business girl doesn’t normally wear so many sparkly rings. You DO love sparkly things.

You offer her a seat, keep chatting her up, and turn on the charm…before too long, you realize that there’s way more to this than meets the eye. She’s too eager, too willing….nice girls tend to be way more cautious. Your reputation having preceded you, good girls should know better than to walk unprotected into the lion’s den, so to speak. You decide to see just how willing she is.

You slide closer beside her in the booth and skim your hand lightly up her skirt, from the ankle to just above the knee where her legs cross….she freezes for a moment, and then, in what seems an act of will, she slowly relaxes again. She laughs and keeps flirting as you order her another wine.

You start to suspect that this chick has a scam of her own to pull. It takes one to recognize one, and you’ve had years more practice. Plus, your inner radar is going off with flashing red warning lights.

“Hey Baby”, you whisper conspiratorially, “it’s getting a bit noisy in here – why don’t we take a drive around the lake, watch the lights dancing on the water at night. I’ve got my limo waiting right outside.”

She acts suitably impressed and agrees – but you’re suddenly sure it’s that – an act, and that she already knows you own one.

The limo is very roomy and stretch of course. You open the door for her like the perfect gentleman you are NOT and follow her inside, sliding in on the black velvet upholstery. You murmur a quick command to the uniformed driver (in Arabic) and the tinted glass panel slides closed, leaving you and the babe alone.

As the limo starts to move off, you settle her beside you on the plush velvet back seat, your arm sliding around behind her possessively.

“Can I pour you a drink from the bar?”

At her nod, you press the button to the hidden sliding compartment beside you. Glass filled, you raise it like a toast, your dark eyes locked on her blue ones before you pass it to her. As the car enters a darkened tunnel, you lean over to turn on another interior light, and as you do, you smoothly but lightly feel her right blazer pocket on the way, a pocket which has seemed to hang just a bit heavier than the other all evening. You feel the slight clink of metal and have your suspicions confirmed.

She’s looking at you more intensely now, suddenly turned more serious than flirty, as if trying to gauge for herself if the slight bump was intentional…..

HER: I suddenly realise I’m not in control any more…and haven’t been for some time. It’s as if the plot is no longer in my hands. I suspect you know what I’ve got in my right pocket, Mr Jewel Thief….I can try to go for it quickly…or else continue to try and bluff my way through it a bit longer and risk allowing you to disarm me and use my handcuffs to suit your own ends.

Your hand is sliding up my skirt again, much further this time, as you kiss me lingeringly, your eyes so hot, your black on my blue. I let my tongue dance with yours, and yours sweeps my mouth in a way that is both practiced AND exciting… for just a moment I’m swept away and I forget my job. That could well be my downfall.

Choices, choices….try to think past the pleasurable haze of being kissed senseless.