Chapter 7

Detective Curtis Holden has been waiting for well over an hour since getting back to the precinct. He normally doesn’t mind sweating out a suspect, but right now he is more worried about where Yulia is rather than sweating out this girl. There really isn’t anything to hold her on, and the moment she cries lawyer he knows it’s going to be over and done with.

He has just stepped out of Captain Andrews’ office with the warning that he is going to need to get a confession or let the girl go. And he needs to do it fast. So Curtis gives Yulia another fifteen minutes. After that he’s going to need to get the confession and then track the woman down. Captain Andrews asked Yulia, and to even his own surprise, Curtis lied and covered for her. It may have been a stupid move, but he felt it was the right one.

Looking at his watch one more time, the man sighs and heads for the interrogation room.

Inside the room, the girl again tests the cuffs that keep her bound to the metal chair. Again, she finds them secure. She sighs, leaning back in the seat and scans the cold, sterile confines of the room. The two-way mirror reflects back a beautiful girl with darker skin, long dark—almost black hair—in a tight shirt. She smiles at the reflection for the benefit of whoever is watching on the other side.

The door opens and she turns to see the man that arrested her enter. She is utterly surprised to see Yulia with him.

“Miss Sabina Tomoiaga,” Curtis says as he steps in with a folder. “We are running you through Interpol. For your sake you better hope you’re not wanted anywhere else.”

“I am wanted where I am wanted,” she says coolly.

Her coolness strikes the man as odd, and it is only now that he really takes the sight of her in. The girl has firm, perky breasts that are bound tight by the shirt. A skirt shows long legs that hug a pair of rolling hips. Her face is stunning, framed by her dark hair. “Holy shit...” he whispers.

“Something wrong, Detective?” she asks.

Curtis can’t remember her looking this good when he arrested her. It could be he was more interested in catching Yulia or that he was too focused on the crime scene and the chase. Or he could have been simply too out of breath and thinking how he needs to hit the gym to have noticed her. “Yeah, you make the second foreigner in my country to cause problems for me.”

Sabina lifts an eyebrow as he sets down the file he is carrying. “Maybe I can show you that I am not that bad for you when you uncuff me?”

“So far we haven’t found you getting into trouble anywhere else, but that doesn’t mean you’ve not been naughty before,” Curtis says, though he is unsure as to why he just said what he did.

“I try not to get caught when I am being naughty,” she purrs. “Would you like me to be naughty? Maybe we could play bad cop, bad girl?”

Curtis frowns at her amused tone. “That sounds like it could be fun,” he says, and again he doesn’t know why.

Sabina smiles, and there is something in that smile that gives the man his first real feeling of unease. Then suddenly, she reaches up to begin to toy with the necklace about her neck.

“How... ?”

“Where I am from, things are done a little differently,” she murmurs, the necklace flashing in the weak light, spinning in her black painted nails. “We believe that the right stimulus gets us where we need to go...”

Curtis blinks. The flash of the pendant is distracting. It keeps pulling his attention to it. He shakes himself, his head suddenly aching a bit. “Well, you’re in America, where justice cannot be bought.”

“I do not seek to buy anything,” the girl muses. “I was hoping that you would not be alone. But such as it is, I will need to get going.”

“And just how do you propose to do that?” the man asks. “You think I’m just going to let you go?”

“Given the right incentives ... yes,” she answers. The pendant is flashing and dancing. It spins like his head is beginning to. Curtis blinks again, furrowing his brow. The pendant is framed by her curving breasts as they rise and fall. “Do you like my pendant?”

“I like your tits more,” he says.

“Yes. They are nice, are they not?” she puffs. “They are so big and heavy. Would you like to see them?”

“I ... what... ?” he asks, finding himself sitting and now the one handcuffed to the metal chair. “How did I... ?”

Sabina smiles warmly, her hand rising toward the top of her shirt. Curtis’ mouth goes dry. He can only gasp as Sabina peels off her shirt.

“Oh fuck...” he breathes.

“Nice, yes?”

“Yes...”

“It is so easy to just stare at them,” the girl continues. “It is so easy to watch my pendant spin and dance and flicker, yes?”

“Yes...” Curtis barely registers what she just said. “Wait...”

“Just relax, Detective Holden,” Sabina muses. “We do things differently where I come from. I highly doubt that you will be disappointed.”

“I ... uh... !” Curtis jumps as he feels something push against his bulge. He shoots a glance down between his legs and sees the girl’s stocking-clad foot pressing against his crotch. The shapes of toes are just distinguishable through the mesh fabric of her foot pressing and toying against his rapidly stiffening member. He looks back up at her. She smiles with her dark eyelashes low. Between her breasts she continues to spin the pendant.

“I do not believe we need to leave her on bad terms,” she says. “I rather like to leave with a pleasant tone between us. I mean, I doubt that we will even see one another after today.” Her foot massages his cock with lazy expertise. “I think it is better that you just relax. Enjoy and see where this goes.”

“Fuck...” the man gasps, breathing heavily. He forces his eyes off the pendant to meet hers. He bites his lip as her toes find that tip of his prick. “What are you doing to me?”

“I am giving you something pleasant for allowing me to leave here,” she says. “I would hate for you to feel guilty about just letting me walk out of here without payment.”

“That’s ... extortion...”

“Maybe...” she coos. “I like to think of it as, how do you say, I give you something and you give me something in return. We both benefit from exchange.”