ONE

You're so funny Manuel!" Amy giggled.

"That's me baby. Funny as shit!" he grinned.

His hand came down to cup her behind and she giggled again and scampered away.

"Uh Uh Uh,” she laughed, waving her finger at him. He sighed and smiled back, not altogether happily.

Amy let her eyes open further, playing the part of the dumb blonde to the hilt. She had been playing it for almost a week now, trying to lure Manuel and the people she knew were behind him, into grabbing her.

She sighed inwardly and adjusted the top of her bikini. It was a thirty six cup, a size too small for her thirty eight inch chest. They hadn't told her police work would be like this when she'd enrolled in the academy four years ago.

This assignment called for coming on to Manuel. She was supposed to be a dumb blonde bimbo after all. The problem was that a real blonde bimbo would have dropped her panties for Manuel by now, and Amy had no intention of doing that.

Manuel was used to easy women, and found her holding out somewhat confusing, as well as a challenge. He'd been trying to get her into bed almost since she'd met him, sometimes quite forcefully. If they didn't get him for kidnapping soon they were liable to get him for attempted rape.

Not that he wasn't absolutely gorgeous, she sighed. Six feet tall, with long dark hair, a muscular physique, and a face that almost made her want to spread her legs whenever he came near.

Under normal circumstances... But this wasn't. There were a lot of eyes around, and besides it would look pretty bad in court if it turned out she'd screwed the bastard!

Still she was lucky to make detective so early while most of her classmates were driving around in blue and whites. She hadn't once been assigned to street patrol, her looks had seen to that. Although she'd been nineteen when she'd graduated, she could still pass for sixteen or seventeen and had been sent into high schools posing as a student.

She'd done very well, though she detested being back in high school so soon after leaving it. But the vice squad needed young looking cops to infiltrate the drug rings that ran rampant in the high schools and couldn't very well use veterans for that.

This job was a real break. She was out of the high schools, and working for the major case team. Manuel was suspected of being involved in the disappearance of a number of young teenage girls over the last months, all of whom joined his modelling agency shortly before disappearing without a trace.

The NYPD believed the place was a front for a white slavery ring, and needed a pretty, young looking officer to infiltrate it. Amy had volunteered.

Even now, a half dozen officers surrounded the Mansion where this little pool party was being held, hoping she'd be grabbed there so they could follow her to Manuel's bosses.

She was wearing a small locket that was a tracer the police could follow; another one was in her watch. They were taking a chance of course, but they had tried everything else.

She smiled stupidly as one of Manuel's men walked past her and patted her on the behind. "Bunch of cretins," she muttered to her drink.

She delayed and wandered around the pool, giving Manuel and his friends every opportunity to kidnap her. Unfortunately, they stubbornly refused. At last she decided they weren't going to bite and called it a day.

"Well?"

She looked up at Lieutenant Cooper as their cars met at an intersection several blocks away.

"Nothing,” She sighed.

"Shit. What’s with those guys anyway?

"I don't know sir."

"Well go home and we'll try again tomorrow."

"Hey Amy!"

Her eyes narrowed as she shifted her gaze to Frank Morgan. He held up a camera with a telephoto lens.

"We got some great pictures of you in your little bikini!" he leered. "We're gonna auction em off later."

"Up yours Morgan." She glared at him.

"You two knock it off! You're supposed to be adults,” Cooper said sternly. "We'll see you again tomorrow Amy,” he said.

She nodded and they drove off in different directions.

She was mad at herself, for failing to tempt Manuel into grabbing her. This was her big break with the department. She was getting to old to pass as a teenager, and if she didn't manage to make full detective soon, she'd wind up in a patrol car somewhere, breaking up domestic fights.

She parked the car outside her condo and walked up the stairs to her apartment. She stopped to check her mail, opening it as she walked. Another letter from her Mother! That woman! She called Amy every second day on the phone, and still had to send her a letter every week!

She couldn't understand why Amy wasn't married to a lawyer and pushing out babies by now. Amy sighed and leafed through the rest of her mail as she unlocked her door. All bills, except for a come on that said she had already won a million dollars, maybe. She snorted and pushed the door closed behind her.

She flicked on the TV as she passed, then went into her room to change. She donned a pair of black silk pyjamas and then went into the kitchen.

Normally she'd have made something to eat, but she'd eaten so much at the party she wasn't hungry. She pulled a bottle of spring water from her fridge and then went back into the living room to watch the news.

She grinned at the image she presented. A real yuppie! She shook her head. It wasn't that long ago she was in danger of being arrested herself. She used to run with a pretty wild bunch, that was always getting into trouble.

The only trouble she'd been caught for had been a little shoplifting that had been erased from her record when she'd turned eighteen.

Still, she remembered the wild parties, the drugs and sex, and multicoloured, multi shaped sexual partners she'd had. One time, her mother had come home early from work and found Amy on the living room floor with a couple of boyfriends.

She'd been on her hands and knees. Johnnie Welsh was kneeling naked behind her, his hot prick sliding in and out of her cunt. Mark Spencer had been in front of her face, cock buried to the balls in her sucking, slurping mouth.

What a screaming mess that had been. Amy had only just managed to avoid being sent to a convent school in the mid-west, and had been grounded for three months.

She'd certainly reformed since then.

An hour later, she was checking the television schedule when the doorbell rang. She looked up in irritation. She didn't feel like visitors just now. She sighed, and got up, moving across the plush rug to the door.

She opened it a crack, with the chain still on, and peeked out. It was Manuel!

"Hello Rebecka." He smiled.

"Manuel! What are you doing here?" she stammered.

"I got bored and decided to do some work. I thought I'd come and see you about a modelling assignment for tomorrow."

"Come come,” he said impatiently, holding up a folder. "This is a major national magazine."

Amy considered. She wished she had time to call the station, but she'd blow her cover if she didn't let him in at once.

"Come on in." She smiled, closing the door and pulling the chain off.

Manuel walked in slowly, looking around at the little apartment. "Very nice,” he commented.

"Thank you," Amy said.

Manuel went over to the couch and sat down. "Would you like something to drink?" Amy asked.

"Yes, a bourbon please if you have it.”

Amy shook her head.

"Scotch?" she asked.

He shrugged and nodded.

"So what is the shoot?" she asked from the kitchenette.

"Bathing suits," he called back. "You have a wonderful body, as you reminded me today. I know you will look fabulous."

"It sounds great!" she said with false enthusiasm, handing him his drink and sitting down next to him.

He opened the folder. Inside was a magazine devoted almost exclusively to beautiful women in swimsuits.

She leafed through the pages as Manuel sipped on his drink and watched her.

"When is the shoot?" she asked.

"Tomorrow, for a week."

Uh oh, she thought.

She scanned the pages in dismay. The swimsuits were for the most part pretty skimpy. Many were thongs, others had little more than g-strings for bottoms. There was a large section of lingerie, most of which was practically, if not entirely see through.

"Umm... Tomorrow?" she stammered.

"Yes, we'll go out to a warehouse on Long island. There are backdrops there that will make it appear you are in Hawaii or something.

"Will I... umm... be wearing these kinds of things?" She pointed at a buxom brunette wearing a nearly invisible teddy, that left nothing to the imagination.

He nodded. "Partly, as well as the suits."

"Great! Great!" she gushed, trying to pretend excited, but imaging her pictures with everything hanging out, on display in the stationhouse.

Then Manuel leaned closer, his arm going around her. He smiled, his eyes narrowing. "You will look wonderful and sexy,” he breathed.

His hand slid up and down her side, fingers siding lightly across the sides of her breasts.

"I... I don't know Manuel..,” she murmured.

His face nuzzled her throat, and he kissed her lightly. His other hand slid up the silken fabric of her leg towards her groin.

Before she could stop him his hand was between her slightly spread thighs, cupping her crotch through the thin fabric. A shot of electric heat shot up into her body, making her gasp in shock.

"M... Manuel!" she protested, her hand going down to his, trying to shove it away.

Her mind, already whirling through possible excuses to get her out of the photo shooting, now reeled from the sudden flaring heat in her loins.

His other hand was now squeezing her breast, sending waves of rolling sexual turmoil through the blonde's spinning brain.

His mouth was at her throat, biting, sucking, kissing. His hand rubbed and squeezed at her crotch, sending her guts into a shivering frenzy.

She should stop him... she had to...

But her body refused to recognize this. Her head fell back, sending her breasts thrusting out as her body trembled in the throes of sizzling sexual passion.