The Deal Maker chapter 2

 The Deal Maker

Chapter 2

A hidden folder, buried beneath layers of encrypted files, locked with a passcode she cracked in under a minute. When the files opened, her lips parted slightly, her breath catching, she smiled licking her lips.

Images. Videos. Documents. A collection of secrets that sent a shiver down her spine. At first, she didn't understand what she was looking at, but as she clicked through, a realization settled over her.

It was the boss's sexual fetishes...wow.

Claire leaned back, fingers hovering over the keyboard, heart pounding. She was shocked. But more than that... she was intrigued and knew how useful that could be.

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed outside her office. Claire's pulse spiked. Someone was coming but not just someone, I was coming. With a swift motion, she shut the folder and locked her screen, just as the door creaked open.

"Working late Claire?" I asked.

Claire turned, flashing a slow, controlled smile. "Always Sir but it's time to go home, big day tomorrow."

She stood gracefully, her long legs unfolding as she adjusted her skirt with a delicate tug. Her high heels clicked against the polished floor as she took deliberate steps, the sway of her hips was lovely. She reached for her coat, draping it over one arm before smoothing a hand over the fabric of her blouse, almost caressing her breasts, ensuring it sat just right.

With an air of quiet confidence, she strode toward the door. She moved like a woman who knew I was watching her, she knew she was the center of my complete attention even in an empty room. As she passed by, the faint scent of jasmine and something deeper, something undeniably intoxicating, lingered in the air.

Claire paused at the front doors, glancing back at the camera long enough to let a knowing smile play at her lips before disappearing into the night.

It was the beginning of a cat and mouse game. A slow, deliberate hunt where neither of us spoke the truth, but both of us knew it. I saw it in the way she moved, in the way her gaze lingered just a second too long. She knew. And now, I knew she knew.

The images, the videos, sexual, intimate, raw, and undeniably revealing of my various sexual fetishes were burned into her mind, impossible to forget. She had stumbled upon something far more dangerous than she had anticipated, something that tipped the scales of control.

She wouldn't waste it. I could see it in her smile, in the glint of her green eyes behind those glasses. She had the patience of a predator, and when she was ready, she would push me over the edge, just to see how far I would fall.

Who was she working for?

Claire's fingers trembled slightly as she traced the edge of her skirt, her mind replaying the images she had uncovered, raw, forbidden, intoxicating. She squeezed her legs tighter, a slow smile curled her lips as she imagined the power now resting in her perfectly manicured hands. She was under the impression that I had no idea, no clue that she had seen my deepest secrets, my hidden sexual desires. And when the time came, she would make sure I saw her, not just as my personal secretary, but as the woman who held my fate between her red-painted fingertips.

Claire sat across from her handler in the dimly lit hotel room, one leg crossed over the other, her stiletto dangling lazily from her toes like women like to do. Detective Vanessa Price, older, sharper, and always in control, watched her with a clear interest. Those dam sexy legs.

"You found something, didn't you?" Vanessa leaned back against the headboard, arms folded, her dark eyes scanning Claire's expression.

Claire exhaled, tapping manicured nails against her knee. "Oh, I found more than something. I found everything."

Vanessa raised a brow. "How bad?"

Claire licked her lips looking at her handler, savouring the moment, letting the weight of her discovery settle over her like a slow, intoxicating sexual thrill. "Bad enough that I could ruin him if I wanted to," she murmured, her voice dripping with amusement.

Videos. Images. Sensual and sexual desires wrapped in vulnerability and beauty. Women on crutches, the slow, deliberate sway of their hips, injured limbs elevated as they moved. From non weight bearing to partial. The sleek curve of a leg cast that follows perfectly the contour of a women's leg, ankle and foot. Some with toes peeking out, some totally covered with socks, flexing with each step.

The quiet power of a woman navigating the world with a white cane with skirt, tight blouse and Italian pumps, her confidence unshaken despite the delicate fragility her blindness suggested. It was all there, laid out in digital proof, not a crime at all but a serious obsession buried beneath layers of control.

At last, Claire removed her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she leaned back. Without them, the world softened, blurred into a haze of color and shape. Legally blind without her lenses she would need the white cane or a modern app replacing it, her stunning green eyes seemed even more striking, raw and exposed in a way she rarely allowed. She blinked slowly, adjusting to the shift, then let a slow smile curl her lips.

Vanessa tilted her head, intrigued. "And you're sure it's real? Not some twisted fantasy folder?"

Claire's smirk widened. "Oh, it's real. Some of the audio leaves no doubt, and I know exactly how to use it."

Vanessa leaned forward, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. "So? What's your first move?"

Claire uncrossed her long legs, her pantyhose catching the soft glow of the bedside lamp. "I start small. A little bait, a little curiosity. Test the waters."She let her fingers glide slowly down her thigh, tracing the smooth fabric with a teasing, absentminded touch.

"Maybe... an injury," she murmured, her voice laced with quiet amusement. Her fingertips danced lower, following the curve of her long leg, skimming over her knee before continuing their slow descent.

"A sprained ankle," she said, her touch lingering just above the delicate joint, pressing lightly as if testing the idea. Her palm slid down to cradle her ankle, her thumb grazing the thin strap of her stiletto. With a subtle shift, she curled her fingers around the arch of her foot, the leather of her high heel like a second skin.

She exhaled softly, tilting her head. "Do you think he'd believe it?"

Vanessa shaking her head. "A fake sprain? He'd see right through it."

Claire sighed dramatically. "I was afraid of that so I'll make it real."

Vanessa studied her for a long moment before pushing herself up from the bed, walking toward Claire with slow, deliberate steps. "You're really willing to go that far?"

Claire held her gaze. "It's my first time undercover, I want a big win, I want to see how far he'll go. Let's start with a light sprain"

Vanessa's lips curled into a smirk as she stepped closer, her gaze locked onto Claire's. "Alright, sweetheart," she murmured, voice thick with something between amusement and anticipation.

"Let's make it convincing."

Claire didn't flinch when Vanessa reached down, her fingers wrapping around her right ankle with a deliberate grip. The moment stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension. Then, ever so slowly, Vanessa's other hand slid up Claire's calf, fingertips gliding over her pantyhose, savouring the curve of her muscle beneath.

The Deal Maker
Chapter 3 to come
K