Page 23 of Dangerously Deceptive

“You didn’t know I’m here to help you get ready too, did you?” Finn asks, and I look over at Kellan, who has now migrated over to the two laptops he has set up on the motel desk. He just shrugs his shoulders like he forgot to tell me, and gets back to his beloved screens.

“No, I did not know. We can go next door so Kellan doesn’t get distracted. He’ll start humming soon.”

“Hey—” Kellan shouts over, but he is interrupted by both myself and Finn bursting into fits of laughter.

“I forgot he hums while he works,” Finn adds, and as Kellan gives us a look that could definitely kill, I push Finn into the room next door.

Making an excuse about leaving something in the other room, I quickly run back into Kellan’s room. Catching him off guard, I crush my lips to his, and he instantly returns my kiss. His hands move to grip my ass, as mine snake into his silky black hair. As his tongue battles with mine, I can’t hold back the groan that escapes my lips.

Reluctantly I pull back, giving him a small smile before planting a quick, chaste kiss against his surprisingly soft lips. “This is how our day should have gone,” I say, before kissing him again. Only this time when Kellan tries to deepen the kiss, I use all my willpower to pull away.

“When this is over, we will get our do-over day. I promise,” Kellan says, and my heart races with all the possibilities.

“I will hold you to that.” I reluctantly pull myself away, dragging myself back to the other room to be educated in the art of honey trapping, courtesy of Finn.

* * *

The coupleof hours I spent with Finn actually flies by really quickly. The guy is so funny, and he’s also very good at his job. No matter how much he might hate it. He taught me some techniques I never would have thought of, and it gave me backup plans I didn’t think I would need. I thought all I would need to seduce a pervy, old man would be the right dress, but I forgot that the man in question is not only highly smart, he’s also incredibly paranoid. He knows he has enemies, he also knows that the memory stick he carries around with him has immense value in the criminal underworld. Otherwise he wouldn’t have this much security. So, coming up with a plan to steal it really isn’t as easy as I thought.

Once Finn puts the finishing touches on my appearance, I look at myself in the mirror and am shocked. There’s a natural beauty to my face that he’s somehow managed to highlight with ease. I can’t get over how beautiful I look. Because of the target's proclivity for young girls, Finn has tried his best to make me look like an underage girl who is trying to look older. Luckily, I have a young-looking face. The aim is to make him think that I’m using a fake ID to legally get served, when really I’m the exact age he is looking for. I also have to get his attention, and this dress certainly does that. On the hanger it looked to be nothing more than a little black dress, and that’s exactly what it is. But, once it’s on my body, it looks far from plain.

Most would describe it as a bandage dress, it wraps around me from just above my cleavage to mid-thigh. There’s nothing overly revealing about it, but the way it fits my body is what makes it sexy. It hugs every inch and every curve, without standing out too much. It’s a beautiful dress, and I can’t help but feel incredibly sexy in it.

My hair is styled in simple waves, and my make-up is natural with some slight dark eyeliner to make my eyes pop, and red lipstick to help make me look more sultry. I have to give Finn props, he knows exactly what he is doing. I didn’t expect hair and make-up to be in his wheelhouse, but every time I ask him about it he just says he had to learn it for the work he does for his dad.

As Finn takes in my body, I don’t feel like he is checking me out. Instead, it’s like an artist surveying his masterpiece, and given his smile, I know he’s pleased with his work. There’s a sadness in his eyes, too, that suggests no matter how pleased he is, he hates having to do it in the first place. Story of my fucking life. No wonder we get on so well.

He makes a big show of presenting me to Kellan, even having him close his eyes as I walk into the room. I stand there on bated breath, waiting for that first moment that Kellan sees me, and when his eyes open, he steals my breath away. His gaze turns to fire, and I can feel as he burns his way over every inch of my skin. While Finn has only ever looked at me for the job, to assess, Kellan looks like a starved man, and I’m the juicy steak he’s been dreaming of. He licks his lips, like he can’t wait to devour me. Fuck, do I want him to.

Finn pulls us out of our moment, no doubt able to feel the sexual chemistry in the atmosphere. “Before I forget, here’s the ketamine. If you can get away without using it, then do. It will look a lot less suspicious if you can do it using one of the techniques I told you, but if at any point you are worried, use this. It’s disguised to look like lipstick. Don’t use it, just pull the coloured top off and pour the liquid into his drink. Anyone who inspects your bag, even if they open the lipstick, they won’t find it unless they know the right twisting combination. So, don’t worry about that. You have got this, Shayla. You will be free very soon. Good luck, let me know how it goes, and I hope we can hang out again soon,” Finn says as he pulls me in for a hug after putting the fake lipstick in my handbag.

I grab hold of him, returning the hug as I thank him, meaning every word, “I’m so grateful for your help, Finn. Thank you. And, yes, we definitely need to hang out again. I will be in touch very soon.” My voice cracks a little, and I pull away desperate to hide the emotion in my voice. I don’t want the boys to know how scared I am of this plan. It goes against every part of me, but I have to do it.

Walking into the bar, Kellan’s final pep talk is fresh in my mind. Well, it wasn’t just a pep talk, he also managed to give me an orgasm using his tongue while I was pressed up against the wall. Apparently my dress had the right kind of effect, and he just had to take advantage. Seeing that gorgeous man, on his knees for me, is exactly the confidence boost I needed for this job. Not to mention how much more relaxed I am after an earth-shattering orgasm. Naturally, I begged him for more, but we didn’t have time. Although his promise of later was more than enough inspiration to make sure I do this correctly and get my ass back to him. But, for now, I need to forget all about Kellan and focus on the job at hand.

I also need to ignore the fact that I can see Jamieson, dressed up in a suit, sitting over in the corner. He fits in perfectly with all the other businessmen dotted around the hotel bar, wearing suits and looking at their laptops, tablets, or phones. I think this might be the first time in years I’ve seen him without his cut, and despite the fact that he clearly looks too muscular to be a businessman, there’s no denying he looks fucking good in a suit. If he is part of the plan, I wasn’t kept in the loop on that part. But, I can only imagine he is here to protect me in case things go belly up. And, given that he isn’t wearing his cut, which is a punishable offence for the Reapers, I would guess he is acting on his own, which makes me smile. Maybe the Jamieson I knew for a long time is still there.

Doing my best to ignore Jamieson, I follow the plan in my head. I spot the target, seated at the bar, on the stool farthest away from me. Deciding to play it safe, I take a seat at the opposite end. It might be the most distant from him, but this way I am opposite him, so he can see me clearly and then it doesn’t look like I’m hitting on him, or making myself too obvious.

Within a few minutes of me sitting down, the barman approaches. “Sorry, Miss, before I can serve you, I will just need to see your ID?”

Perfect. Exactly what I wanted to happen. Just as planned, I do my best to look nervous, my eyes shifting around the room to seem like I am on edge, as I hand the ID over to the barman. He studies it for a second, long enough to make it obvious that it’s a fake, albeit a good one. As my eyes are scanning the room, looking shifty, I look over to see if I have caught the target’s eye yet. Dammit, he doesn’t appear to be looking up from his phone. Time to turn it up a little.

“Is everything okay? I mean, with the ID. I am eighteen. I know I look younger, I always get told that I look about fourteen, fifteen, and I joke all the time that it’s thanks to a very expensive skin care regime. But, now it’s affecting me getting into clubs. I might need to wait a couple of years, then try to look younger,” I waffle, exactly like I practised with Kellan and Finn. Making it clear that I really am a teenager, trying desperately to pass for someone who is of age!

“No problem. What can I get you, please?” the barman asks as he hands over my ID. I pause, taking a moment to think about my selection, or to make it look that way.

“I think I will try a cosmopolitan, please. If it’s good enough forSex and the City, it’s good enough for me,” I joke with a little laugh at the end. The barman nods in confirmation, before heading off in the direction of the bottles to prepare my drink.

Crossing my legs like Finn suggested, because apparently it looks sexy, I curse him out. Does he have any idea how hard it is to cross my legs, in a short skirt and heels, on a high bar stool. He’s lucky I don’t fucking fall off. By the time I right myself, without going ass over tit, not only is the bartender heading my way with my drink, but the target is now looking my way too. Apparently my little shuffle on the bar stool caught his attention. Now it’s time to reel him in.

Thanking the barman, and giving him a bank note to cover the cost, I smile as he walks away. Taking a sip of my drink, the vodka burns my throat but the sweetness from the cranberry juice and the lime all seem to balance the drink out. I’m pleasantly surprised by how much I like it. Although I deliberately scrunch up my face, like it’s the first time I’m drinking alcohol.

Picking up the nearest napkin, I start to fold it, doing my best to focus on that act rather than anything else going on in the room. In between sips of my drink, I cast inconspicuous glances around the room, trying to pick out which of the men is his security. There are at least four men sitting around him that I know are with him, and a couple more that I’m unsure about.

Just as I’m nearing the end of my drink, an older man in his fifties, with a bald head and stern expression on his face, begins to walk towards me. He was one of the men I identified as working for the mark. Showtime.

Doing my best to ignore his approach, it’s not until his shadow completely engulfs me do I look up and see him towering over me on the bar stool. This guy must be well over six-foot, and built like a brick shithouse. There is no hiding the fact that he is security. “My boss at the opposite end of the bar would like to invite you over to share a drink with him.”

---