Secretly Seduced: The Interview Series Book One

by White, L. E.

  Secretly Seduced

  The Interview Series Book One

  by

  L.E. White

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  My previous book:

  Leather & Lace: Complete

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 Rude Awakening

  Chapter 2 Arrested

  Chapter 3 The Law

  Chapter 4 Seduction

  Chapter 5 Great Sex

  Chapter 6 Portia

  Chapter 7 The DVD

  Chapter 8 New Directions

  Chapter 9 The Arrangement

  Chapter 10 Proving Commitment

  Chapter 11 Poker Party

  Chapter 12 Training Adriana

  Chapter 13 Change of Attitude

  Chapter 14 Defining Moment

  Chapter 15 Hidden Space

  Chapter 16 Partying with Portia

  Chapter 17 Dorm Orgy

  Chapter 1 Rude Awakening

  “Miss, are you all right?” called the elderly woman standing by the driver side window of the BMW roadster. They were looking down at a partially dressed female lying in the fully reclined driver’s seat.

  “Here, let me, Mabel,” said her husband reaching past his wife to knock loudly on the car window using his dome ring as a knocker. “Miss, wake up.”

  Getting closer also provided a better view of the girl’s exposed breasts. Their small dog barked repeatedly adding to the din that finally brought Stacy Todd awake.

  Waking was accompanied by a wave of nausea propelling Stacy to reach for the steering wheel to pull herself upright. She quickly opened the door, leaned over, and vomited on the parking lot pavement.

  “Maybe we better call the EMTs, Frank. Get away, Samantha,” said the woman jumping back to avoid the splatter while jerking the dog’s leash to pull him way.

  “No, don’t, I’m all right,” was all Stacy could manage when she stopped retching long enough to speak. After her stomach emptied, Stacy used the door handle to climb back into the driver’s seat. She leaned her head on the steering wheel as her finger pressed the Seat Memory button to raise her seat back.

  “She must have been attacked. I’ll call 911,” said Frank talking out his cell phone.

  “No, I’m okay. Nobody attacked me,” said Stacy panicking for some unknown reason at the possibility of the police being involved.

  “You should button up, dear,” said the woman.

  Stacy looked down and realized her blouse was completely unbuttoned and her brassiere was missing. Her breasts were exposed. Frank’s his cell phone camera was focused on her nakedness.

  “You’re spoiling my fun, Mabel,” said Frank repeatedly pressing the image capture button.

  “Stop it, Frank, you old pervert. She may need medical attention,” said Mabel.

  “No, I’m all right, thank you, thank you,” said Stacy closing her shirt. “I have to go.”

  Stacy turned the key and drove off fighting another wave of nausea. As she turned out of the parking lot, she could see the interstate less than half-mile away. Right before the on ramp was a coffee shop. Realizing there was no way, she could go further until her stomach calmed down, Stacy drove into the drive through lane.

  Moments later, Stacy was parked, sipping a large black coffee wondering whether a bite of the plain bagel she’d bought would calm her stomach or cause her to throw up again. Stacy glanced at the dash clock, 11:42AM.

  Jesus, it’s almost noon realized Stacy as she flipped down the vanity mirror. She grimaced at her image in the mirror. Then she ran a finger down the side of her cheek. She shook her head in disbelief at the thick coat of makeup she’d scraped away.

  God I look like shit and feel worse thought Stacy leaning close to the mirror to examine her blood shot eyes. “Think, girl, think,” she said aloud trying to recall how she wound up in her car half dressed and missing her underwear. Stacy took a small bite of the bagel then leaned back in the seat struggling to clear her mind. The slight motion produced a twinge of pain from an unexpected spot. My pussy’s sore realized Stacy placing her hand between her legs feeling her crotch. My butt’s sore too.

  In the distance, Stacy could see the apartment complex and parking lot where the old couple woke her. There were six identical buildings. Then she recalled entering one of the apartments last night with a police lieutenant. His name was Mike Cabreeze. But Stacy couldn’t remember which apartment he had taken her to. They’d arrived in the dark and she had other things on her mind than remembering an apartment number. That was when it all started coming back to her.

  Chapter 2 Arrested

  “I’ll take that, Miss,” said the store security guard reaching for the shopping bag Stacy was carrying.

  “Come with us, please,” said the guard’s female partner stepping to the other side of Stacy bracketing her between them.

  “I haven’t done anything,” said Stacy fighting the urge to panic. No, she told herself. This can’t be happening again.

  “Right, but we need to have a little talk. Don’t make a fuss. No need to upset the other customers,” said the female guard.

  Stacy glanced at their nametags, Mark Wilson and Faye Sellers.

  This just can’t be happening to me repeated Stacy as they wound past racks of merchandise toward the back of the department store. My parents will kill me. Mother will never speak to me again.

  “I haven’t shoplifted,” said Stacy as soon as they passed through the door marked Security Office Employees Only.

  “We’ll see,” said Mark dumping the contents of Stacy’s shopping bag on a table. There were several items including two spring tops Stacy had bought but there were two smaller packages she didn’t remember purchasing.

  “You got receipts for these?” asked Faye picking up the two small bottles of expensive perfumes.

  “No, I didn’t buy those. Someone must have put them in my bag,” said Stacy. She had no idea how the perfume got in her bag.

  “Right, they just hopped off the counter all on their own,” said Mark. “Sit down, Miss, we got some paperwork to do before we call the police.”

  “No, please, I can pay. But I didn’t take them. Someone must have put them in my shopping bag,” repeated Stacy struggling to maintain her composure.

  “Stop the bullshit. You’re busted. We know it isn’t your first time,” said Faye pointing toward the computer monitor on her desk. “It’s all there in the computer’s database on shoplifters. You and an accomplice were arrested at the Watertown Mall last October 12th.”

  “That was my dorm mate. She was shoplifting and I didn’t know it,” said Stacy surprised they already knew she’d been arrested before.

  “That isn’t what the judge ruled, $500 fine, one hundred hours community service, and three months probation. You have violated probation. Judge Myers won’t like that. He’s a real hard ass on probation violators,” said Mark

  “I wasn’t guilty but my lawyer said it was better to plead guilty to a misdemeanor and get it over with,” said Stacy.

  “$300 for an ounce, ridiculous,” said Faye looking at the price tag on one of packages.

  “More than $250 classifies you as a felony shoplifter. You better get a good lawyer, Miss, or you are going inside,” said Mark.

  “I hope you like girls. Cause a pretty young femme like you is going to munch a lot of rugs,” said Faye. “Come with me. You know the drill.”

  Unfortunately Stacy did know the drill. Two m
onths ago she’d gone to a different mall with Jeanette, a fellow student who lived in the same dorm. Stacy didn’t really know Jeanette well other than they had two classes together. As they were leaving the store, security had arrested them. Unbeknownst to Stacy, Jeanette had shoplifted something from practically every store in the mall. It amounted to over $700. After their arrest, Jeanette had dropped out of Harvard returning to her home in Colorado. But Stacy, a Massachusetts resident, was left to face a Cambridge judge with a strong dislike for wealthy college students who broke the law. She had avoided incarceration for thirty days by pleading guilty to a misdemeanor. She’d completed the community service and was hopeful when her probation ended; her arrest record would be expunged.

  “Shirt,” asked Faye closing the door behind them?

  Stacy concentrated on unbuttoning her blouse determined not to lose control and burst into tears.

  “Bra?” asked Faye running her hand down the shirt Stacy handed her.

  “I didn’t have to take it off last time,” said Stacy.

  “It’s procedure in this store. Maybe you arrived braless. You took one of our bras to the dressing room and put it on. Wearing it out is common shoplifter practice. If I tell the police you didn’t allow us to search you thoroughly, they’ll do it at the station and they will look in places I won’t,” said Faye smiling.

  “All right,” said Stacy reaching back to unhook her bra.

  “Nice,” said Faye examining the label in the bra noting it was an upscale designer brand too expensive for the department store.

  Stacy resisted the urge to cross her arms over her breasts. Her mind was desperately searching for an explanation for how the perfume had gotten in her shopping bag. She had browsed the perfume counter but hadn’t bought anything.

  “Mom and Dad get you those for your birthday?” asked Faye.

  “Huh?”

  “Your boobs, augments?”

  “No, they’re mine,” said Stacy resisting the urge to tell Faye to mind her own fucking business. Stacy’s breasts were large and had been the cause of unwelcome attention since they started to appear in the seventh grade.

  “Nice shape, what’s the word when the nipple is turned up like yours?” asked Faye.

  “Perky, please, can I get dressed?” asked Stacy an angry tone creeping into her voice.

  “Don’t get pissed. Just making conversation, take off your jeans,” said Faye.

  “Surely you don’t think I would steal underpants?”

  “Why not? It’s happened before. Some of the good ones cost twenty dollars and up.”

  She must be a lesbian Stacy told herself as she pushed her jeans down. I’m going to find out whether they do this to everyone. I’ll sue if I’m being singled out.

  Stacy stood quietly as the guard emptied her jeans pockets on a nearby table.

  “The rest, shoes too,” said Faye tossing the jeans on the table.

  “You’re sure you do this to everyone,” asked Stacy?

  Stacy had been searched twice down to her underwear during her plane trip to Houston for the fall skeet competition. She’d felt thoroughly humiliated by the experience. Later, she’d read young attractive females were frequent choices of airport screeners for thorough searches. While the TSA employee performing the search was a woman, there was usually a hidden video camera.

  “If you weren’t absolutely gorgeous, they wouldn’t have chosen you,” had been her father’s unsympathetic comment when Stacy had complained about being searched on both legs of her flight. “Beauty can be a curse for a young woman. Men and even women are attracted for the wrong reasons,” added Stacy’s mother.

  “Yes, no exceptions, everyone down to their socks, I search the girls and Mark the guys. Hurry up or I’ll miss my break.”

  Stacy considered refusing then decided that would end any chances she might have of convincing them she was innocent. Stacy slipped off her loafers as she pushed her panty down and stepped out of them.

  I am not going to let her intimidate me decided Stacy as she straightened up. I’ll look her straight in the eye and dare her to do anything inappropriate.

  “Stand erect. Spread your feet hip distance apart. Hold yours arms straight out and turn slowly around,” said Faye tossing Stacy’s panty on the table after examining the label.

  Stacy stifled her feelings of shame and humiliation and did as she was instructed. She was too upset to notice the video camera hidden in a bookcase.

  “Get dressed,” said Faye once Stacy had gone full circle.

  Chapter 3 The Law

  “Second offense, huh?” asked the plain-clothes officer. In the store, he’d identified himself as Lt. Michael Cabreeze of Cambridge PD. Stacy had wanted to die of shame as the Lieutenant walked her out to his unmarked car.

  “Why is the lady handcuffed,” a small boy asked his mother as they passed?

  “She must have broken the law, Erik. They’ll do that to you if you’re a bad boy and don’t mind daddy and me.”

  “It’s the second time I have been arrested but I wasn’t guilty the first time or this time,” said Stacy defiantly. Stacy had expected to ride in the back seat but the Lieutenant had opened the front passenger door making sure she didn’t hit her head as she slid onto the seat.

  “The judge and the DA will sort everything out. I’m just providing transportation. I’m assigned to vice and normally don’t get involved with larceny but the uniforms were all busy with some out of town VIP so I offered to pick you up and bring you in,” said the Lieutenant. “Hanging around the station house is not my thing.”

  “Is there absolutely no way I can avoid being arrested? I’m innocent. This will ruin my life. My parents will disown me,” said Stacy finally losing control and starting to cry.

  “They’ll forgive you. Parents are like that,” said the Lieutenant philosophically.

  “Not mine, you don’t know them. They expect so much of me,” said Stacy.

  “Where are your parents?”

  “They live in Weston,” said Stacy.

  “Weston, wealthiest town in the state, you must be rich,” said the Lieutenant.

  “They’re doctors. My mother is an allergist. She has her own clinic. My father is a thoracic surgeon. He does mostly bypasses.”

  “You live at home,” asked the Lieutenant?

  “No, in the dorm.”

  “Oh, what college?”

  “Harvard.”

  “Harvard, I’m impressed. Rich girl going to an Ivy League college shouldn’t steal. It doesn’t look right. I got my degree in Criminal Justice from Northeastern, definitely not the Ivy League,” said the Lieutenant.

  “Northeastern is a good school. My parents graduated from Harvard Medical. They wanted me to go there. I’m a legacy,” said Stacy. “But I’ll have to find a state school that will accept me after this. Harvard will expel me for a second offense.”

  “Your parents will disown you. Harvard will kick you out. Judge will throw the book at you for violating probation. Anything else bad going to happen?”

  “I won’t be a member of the US Olympic Women’s Skeet Team. Any character issues and they drop you. I’ve got a good chance of making the team,” said Stacy.

  “You shoot those, what do you call it, clay pigeons?”

  “Yes, my father was on the men’s team the year they won the gold metal. He taught me.”

  “Young lady, you do have a lot to lose,” said the Lieutenant allowing a slight note of sympathy to color his tone.

  “Yes,” was all Stacy could manage. “That’s why I would never shoplift. I have too much to lose plus I am an honest person. I’ve never stolen anything in my life. I swear it.”

  “I hate to see a young girl suffer so much for such a small offense. It hardly seems fair,” said the Lieutenant.

  “If there is any way you could help me? I would be forever grateful,” said Stacy sensing the Lieutenant was sympathetic.

  “How grateful,” asked the Lieutenant offering St
acy a desperately desired glimmer of hope?

  “I have some money. Not a lot, I don’t get my trust fund until I’m twenty-three. Oh, and I have my grandmother’s jewelry. It’s in a safe deposit box but I have the key. We could sell it,” said Stacy her desperation causing her to offer something she had promised her now deceased grandmother she would keep and treasure all her life.

  “Now, you’ve hurt my feelings,” said the Lieutenant sounding miffed. “There are other things in the world beside money.”

  “How? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. What can I do to show you how much I appreciate your helping me?”

  “First, you would have to promise me as long as you live you would never again steal anything, no more shoplifting,” said the Lieutenant.

  “I promise. I will never shoplift. I’ll buy everything through the Internet. I’ll never go in another mall as long as I live,” said Stacy. “What else?”

  “Second, you have to party with me. You’ve a very pretty girl, Stacy,” said the Lieutenant.

  “Party?” asked Stacy getting an uneasy feeling she knew what he meant.

  “Yeah, party; don’t make me spell it out. But of course if you’re a member of one of those campus abstinence groups and still a virgin, we can forget it. There’s no pressure here. This will be your decision.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” said Stacy. Stacy’s sexual experience was limited. Her parents had kept her so busy with school and after school activities she’d had little time for a social life. She’d lost her virginity the night of her senior prom. Her only other experience was on Justin’s father’s boat. She and Justin had sex twice but Justin was no more experienced than Stacy.

  “Well forget it then. I suppose I’m too old and ugly for you.”

  “No, you’re not too old,” said Stacy guessing the Lieutenant’s age as early thirties.

  “Too ugly, you’d rather go to prison than party with Quasimodo,” said the Lieutenant.

  “No, you’re very handsome,” said Stacy anxious to be civil but realizing it was true. The Lieutenant was actually good looking in Stacy’s opinion. From his name, she knew his heritage was Italian. He had the curly black hair, dark eyes, aquiline nose, and olive complexion that appealed to women. Stacy recalled the phrase, Italian Stallion. It suited Mike Cabreeze.