Officer Of Seduction

Eric catches the news and gets a bad feeling. Men in cheap suits slip inside massage parlors, flash badges, then drag half the staff downtown. He phones Jack and spells it out—undercover, two of them this week alone. Jack writes the details on a sticky note: five-five, curly brown hair, a birthmark right where the bra strap crosses. That night Cadence Lux walks into Jack Vegas’s back room, slim, fresh, smelling like cash and rookie perfume. He grins so hard his cheeks ache. Everything has to look straight. She must grab his cock first. Before the hour ends he’s rubbing hot oil between her thighs, jaw slack with fake regret, and every stroke dares her to go farther. When she finally slides two fingers into his shorts he flashes her that signature half-laugh: cornered the agent with her own hand, classic.