© 2000

Paige Newton loved to play the seductress. Any man she couldn't lure with her feminine charm wasn't worth her time anyway. Eric Andersen, the Nordic God of all attorneys, had just fallen victim to her latest ploy. He wouldn't be sorry, though. She might not know a lot about being a legal secretary but she knew how to fake it. Ingenuity and adventure were pure Paige.

Nordic God was a perfect title for the young plaintiff's attorney. He took command of a room; his piercing blue eyes and sloping brow forced even the most arrogant of counsel to sit up and take notice. That power wasn't lost on Paige. It wouldn't be long until she'd be running her hands through his sun-bleached hair, feeling his thick arms around her and more.

Paige had applied for the position of his personal secretary and finagled an interview within three days. Mr. Andersen's ice blue eyes more than once flicked from her face to the creamy cleavage her red pushup bra offered beneath her clingy red blouse. Paige only had to lean forward a few more times to keep his attention on her instead of her brief resume. The job offer came within the hour, along with consideration on Mr. Andersen's part concerning her living accommodations. He arranged for her to view a nice one-bedroom apartment in a trendy part of town. After touring the spacious high-rise apartment, the agent informed her that the deposit and three months' rent was covered by Mr. Andersen's law firm. Paige accepted the offer with stoic grace, shouting her joy on the inside. Eric Andersen was easy prey.

Racing down the desolate highway back to her old home, Paige reflected on her good fortune, pushing windblown hair from her face. The night air held a vague chill but the adrenalin pumping through her body, in combination with the extra-large mocha coffee from Starbucks, kept her warm in the open convertible Mustang. Her foot pressed harder on the accelerator.

The night was beautiful and the road stretched out empty before her. She sipped at her coffee, feeling the sugar and caffeine surge through her willowy body. She tugged at her bra, scratching her breast beneath the fabric. The pushup bra always itched, but she liked the way it perked up her silhouette.

Faster and faster she drove, skimming past occasional highway rest areas and clumps of scrubby oaks. The landscape was mostly barren in this part of Texas, with a stand of trees sheltering a sad bunch of cattle every now and then. With the wind whistling in her ears and the music blaring from the stereo, she was oblivious to any other sound. Again she scratched at the skin beneath her bra, jiggling the lace back and forth in irritation. She unbuttoned another button to reach deeper down to the itch.

"What the hell," Paige said as she continued to unbutton her blouse. She reached between her breasts and unsnapped the bra. The cups now dangled from either side of her breasts. She breathed a sigh of relief, always enjoying that first sensation when she removed her bra.

If the sleeves to her blouse weren't so tight, Paige could have easily slipped the bra straps down her arms and pulled them over her hands. She would have to remove her shirt first, either that or re-clasp the bra. Another three buttons and the blouse opened completely. She pulled the hem from her tailored gray flannel skirt and shrugged one sleeve from her shoulder. Paige laughed at the sight. Never before had she exposed herself like this in the open. What harm could it do? No car for miles and it was dark. Exposing herself felt liberating. She rode a few miles with her shirt open, the wind pounding her bare breasts. She thrust her chest forward and arched her back, breathing in the sensation. Her nipples responded to the cool air, tightening to long points. After completely ridding herself of the bra she would slip the blouse back on and button it back up. Simple.

Paige pulled free of one sleeve, singing along to a song on the radio. She gripped the wheel with her naked arm, bringing the still-dressed arm up to meet her fingers. As she maneuvered down the highway, her fingers unbuttoned the cuff to the sleeve. She shook the sleeve, briefly switching hands on the steering wheel to pull the rest of the blouse down her arm. At that moment, her coffee, the cup gripped between her legs, spilled across her thigh. She jumped. The liquid wasn't too hot, but it startled her nonetheless.

At the same moment Paige tried to grasp the coffee cup and shake the blouse down her arm, a gust of wind blew in from the east, whipping the blouse and bra wildly around her head. Paige was blinded in a swath of red silk. She swerved, running off the road onto the soft shoulder. In panic, Paige overcorrected, sending the little Mustang careening over two lanes of the highway. Her red silk blouse and red lace pushup bra flew from the car.

Stunned for the moment, Paige slowed the car, pulling to the shoulder. Topless and wet from spilled coffee, Paige felt the panic rise in her throat. "Oh, shit," she exclaimed, looking down at her milky white breasts. She turned, peering behind her in the darkness. "Oh, fuck," she cried, "fuck, fuck, FUCK!" She gnawed on her lip, looking back through the darkness in fright. She didn't have extra clothes in the car, not even a jacket to cover herself. She could never go home like this, knowing she would have to walk through the lobby of her building, past the security guard and the recreation room before reaching the solitude of her apartment.

She decided to turn around and find her blouse in the roadside brush. The thought of traipsing through the high grass and ditch frightened her. What about snakes and mud? She'd ruin her good shoes if she couldn't avoid the mud. She slumped a little lower in the seat, shifted into gear, and found the nearest turnaround on the dark highway, returning to the mile marker where she thought her blouse might have landed.

Paige left the headlights on as she skimmed the brush with her frightened brown eyes. She stepped from the car, shivering slightly. She eyed the tangled limbs and branches off the road and then looked down at her legs. A good pair of panty hose cost almost ten dollars, money she wasn't willing to throw away at the moment. She hiked up her skirt and slid the expensive hose from her legs, tossing them to the backseat. She wriggled her feet back into her black pumps and began to search the knee-high grass for her shirt.

Paige had covered nearly twenty feet when headlights appeared behind her. She jogged back to her car and crouched behind it, hands cupped over her jiggling breasts. She prayed to anyone who would listen to please let the car pass without anyone in it seeing her.

Her heart caught in her throat as the car slowed and pulled off the road, parking behind her Mustang. In the gloom of the headlights, she could make out the shield on the passenger-side door and the outline of the crown of lights on the top. In the silent night air, she could vaguely make out the sounds of a police scanner. She was busted.

Deputy James Andersen had clocked the red Mustang earlier going seven miles over the speed limit. He'd decided to let it slide. He had continued to watch the little convertible driven by the blonde as it sped down the highway, focusing on the taillights in the distance. His interest was piqued when he noticed the Mustang swerve off the road and back on again, stopping and then turning around. "Curious," he thought, "and definitely worth checking out."

James ran a check on the license plate before approaching the woman. He grabbed his flashlight, flicking it on as he closed the car door. He saw the woman crouched on the other side of the car, the crown of her head bobbing just above the line of the hood. He stepped behind the car and into the grass, shining his flashlight on the blonde. In that instant, he knew he was in for an interesting night. In his three years on the force, never had he run into a half-naked woman on a dark road.

"Miss?" James began, "what seems to be the problem?" James bit back a smile as he watched the pretty woman stand, her arms crossed over her chest, each hand breast-filled.

Paige rolled her eyes as she stood. She managed to give him an embarrassed smile. She met his eyes and thought she caught him trying not to laugh. He was cute, she thought, which made her situation even worse. "Um, I think I lost my blouse," Paige said. She could have slapped her forehead in disgust, but that would have meant losing her grip on one breast. "I mean, it flew from my car and I'm trying to find it." The officer's handsome face broke into a smile. She felt a tingle flush through her body.

James took a few steps closer, passing the beam over her slender body. "Do you often drive topless?" He liked the way her hair fell disheveled around her face and shoulders, a wavy tendril slipping over the curve of a milky breast.

"No. I mean, no, sir. I don't usually drive topless." Paige fidgeted, shaking the hair back away from her face. "See, I was just trying to take off my bra, it was itching, and I couldn't take it all the way off without taking my blouse off first... "

"Have you been drinking?" James stepped closer, reaching for the pen light he kept in his shirt pocket. His cock twitched. He flicked on the pen light and examined her pretty brown eyes.

"Coffee," Paige answered, taking a deep breath. He smelled clean, like sandalwood and soap. She inhaled again. Oddly enough she wasn't frightened.