Shauna Lassiter ran her slender fingers over the slick, red-and-black fender of the brand-new Honda CBR superbike. "It's spectacular," she remarked, trying not to sound too eager as she pictured herself cresting 120 on the freeway with this fantastic 600cc machine humming between her legs.
"I thought you might like it," said Paul Ramirez, smiling as she circled the motorcycle. His eyes drifted along a completely different set of curves, but this particular day he found no satisfaction in the way Shauna seemed to have poured herself into her tight black leather racing suit. The time for admiring her graceful contours and generous bosom was long past. Still, he had no intention of letting her know anything had changed--at least not yet.
"Actually, I was wondering if you might like to ride it today," Paul went on, allowing his gaze to fall on her ample cleavage. As usual, Shauna left the front of the jumpsuit unzipped enough to draw his eye, and glanced away with simulated shyness as he pretended to mentally draw that zipper all the way down. "I was hoping you'd put the engine through its paces," Paul went on, slightly annoyed at the game he was forcing himself to play. "A quick race, shall we say. Just to the other side of town."
"All right," she agreed at once, a bright smile crossing her pretty face. "I'll give it a shot, Paul. A friendly little wager, is it? What are we betting on today?"
"Well," he replied, exchanging glances with his associate, Corwin Thompson, "with the permission of the, er, design team, I have a special bet for you. I'll wager you can't reach a spot on the far side of town by six o'clock tonight, or you can keep this motorcycle for yourself."
"What?" Shauna was incredulous. She ran one hand through her short red hair as she studied the brand-new vehicle. She'd raced many motorcycles in her young life, including high-powered crotch rockets like this one, but had never been able to afford to own something so expensive. Somehow, her bikes always wound up wrecked, or sold to pay for another gambling loss. She wondered why Paul even bothered to keep her around sometimes, but of course she knew the answer to that. He thought he loved her, the poor sap. As if someone like herself could ever stay true to any one man! Well, as long as he kept delivering the jobs and the money, she had nothing to complain about. Except for the fact that he was all but worthless in the sack, of course, but that was another worry altogether.
"You heard me," said Paul with a grin. "This is a special bike, Shauna. It has a couple of interesting additions that will make racing it somewhat...hmm...what's the word I'm looking for?"
"Challenging?" offered Corwin from Paul's shadow. The little man seemed to be hiding behind his oversized briefcase, almost afraid to look at the tall woman in the black outfit.
"Yeah, challenging," Paul agreed. "That's exactly it."
"Race across town by six?" Shauna looked at her watch and saw it was just after three. "Three hours to go what, forty or fifty miles a most? We are talking about Los Angeles, right? I'm not riding to San Diego or anything stupid like that!"
"No, just what I said, across town," said Paul. "You know the NBC studio tour in Burbank? All you have to do is show up at the exit by the end of the day, at six. I'll meet you there, and sign over the pink slip to you. Assuming you can beat the deadline, that is."
Shauna laughed, looking at Paul like he was crazy. "What's the catch?" she demanded. "This is too easy. That's only about twenty miles away. I could almost walk it there that fast."
Paul looked over at Corwin. "No catch," said the gaunt man in the ridiculous tweed suit. He looked like his mother had dressed him that morning. "Really, Miss Lassiter, we just need to test some of our new equipment, and need a volunteer."
"Well, what's this equipment?" she asked curiously, walking around the much taller form of Paul to face Corwin directly. The skinny man seemed to cower up against his BMW, as if frightened by Shauna. She stood with hands on her shapely hips, head cocked slightly sideways, an imposing figure in her black outfit and high-heeled boots. He might well be scared, she thought. This wouldn't be the first time she intimidated someone with her appearance. She almost laughed at the way Corwin seemed to tremble under her gaze, and felt wonderful having that kind of power.
"It's, um, a new invention," the little man stammered. His eyes darted back and forth from her stern gaze to her impressive cleavage, then down to the arrow-like point formed by the end of the zipper and the creases where her legs met. He licked his lips and continued, a bead of sweat forming on his pale forehead. "Years of research, really. We've tested it some, but--but never at full strength, you see. It needs a field test--well, I have to admit I'm not sure about putting it on a motorbike, though, but--"
"What my friend here is trying to say," Paul interrupted smoothly, "is that this is the first time we've installed it on this kind of engine. To be honest, I'd rather not explain the nature of the modifications. You'll see what they are soon enough."
"Okay, you've got me intrigued," she admitted, transferring her gaze back to Paul. Corwin seemed to sigh and relax as soon as she stopped looking at him. "Just one thing. What happens if I don't make it on time?"
"You lose the challenge," said Paul with a smile. "That's it, really. I know you don't really race for money, Shauna. You're in it for the thrill of the ride. I'm sure you don't want to lose...especially not to me." He ended that statement with a knowing wink.
She grinned, knowing exactly what he meant, and let her hand drift to the zipper that dangled just below the edge of her breasts. She eased the fastener downward slowly, revealing a richly tanned swath of skin beneath, a smooth triangle-shaped field of brown that just begged to be touched. Approaching him seductively, she drew the little metal rectangle down towards her navel and beyond. Behind her, watching in mute fascination, Corwin's face turned a shade paler than before.
"Don't you know me yet, Paul?" she asked as she pressed up against the slightly taller man's muscular body. It was too bad, she thought, that those finely chiseled pects weren't backed up by good performance where it counted. He was like the poster boy for false advertising. "I haven't lost to you yet, mister...not ever," she went on, continuing the deception she'd worked for so long it had almost become truth. "Why do you think I'll start now?"
He reached out and placed his hand on her bare stomach, massaging it slightly as her lips found his. For a moment they shared an embrace, their hands exploring each other in mutually false passion, two non-lovers lying to each other with their bodies. Then they pulled apart. "There's always a first time, my dear," said Paul wryly. "There's always a first time."