Page 3 of Throttle All the Way

Mila Stepanovich was a smart little recluse. She dressed in black, remained inconspicuous and had become one helluva pick pocket. After a month or so I finally got a lead that traced her to a cafe in downtown Seattle. It was one she began to frequent. Every Wednesday she’d go in and have breakfast, and eventually she began to work there. Satisfied that she was still alive and well, I watched her through the cafe surveillance cameras for a little while, until about a month later, when the little wench disappeared again.

Going down to the cafe I had a meeting with Bonnie, another waitress who was oddly protective of Mila and not keen on giving me any information. I managed to pry it out of her, not without a little convincing.

“Have you seen this girl?”

She took a quick glance at the photograph and then pinned her mistrustful gaze on me. “Who’s asking?”

“Family.”

“She doesn’t have any family.”

“Well, they’re looking for her.”

“And you’re supposed to be it?” She smirked, blatant in her skepticism.

“Listen, I need to find her.”

“Well there ain’t nothin’ to find here,” she turned to leave and I grabbed her wrist.

“She’s in danger. I need to find her.”

The woman stared at me, and for a moment, she second guessed herself, but then she leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper.

“You’re a cop, aren’t you?”

“What if I was?”

“I don’t talk to cops.”

“Then will you talk to a Royal Bastard?” I placed my jacket on the seat beside me, my patches flashing, her eyes shining.

That’s all it took for these women to be all over us. “Oh, you mean Candy?”

“Is that what she goes by?” I smiled at her and the older woman blushed, knowing exactly what she was doing.

Leaning my forearms on the table, I raised my finger and gestured for her to come closer. She placed a hand on the table and leaned forward, her floral perfume surrounded me and aimed right down at my cock, making it react. I wish I could tell you I was a good man and didn’t take advantage, but fuck, I’m human. In seconds I’d have her down on her knees in the men’s bathroom, giving me a much needed blowjob, but not before I got my information.

Taking a lock of her blonde hair between my fingers, I took a long glance at her ample cleavage, the tops of a black leopard bra peeked out at me and I bit down on my lip before looking into her pretty green eyes.

“You wouldn’t know where she went off to, would you?”

The woman was all flustered and red cheeked as I trailed a finger down her neck and into her cleavage. “I-I know they recruited her.”

“Who did?”

She dug into her pocket and pulled out a black card. The wordIllicitawas engraved on it in gold. Flipping the card around, all it had printed on it was a number.

“Did they tell you who they were?”

She nodded, now hovering just a little closer, and when I smiled up at her I knew she’d be mine if I wanted her.

“They’re an escort service. Pretty popular around these parts. High end. They wanted me but…I’m a good girl.”

“Hmmmm, yes you are.”

Grabbing her hand, I yanked her toward the bathrooms, shoved her into a stall, and she showed me exactly how much of a good girl she was as she got on all four and I stuck my cockup that cougar ass. She moaned and panted like a bitch in heat, and when I was done, she cleaned up my cock with that good girl tongue of hers. She then wrote down her number in her pamphlet, ripped the paper off and stuck it in my jacket pocket.

“If you ever need anything,” she whispered before heading out.

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