(I serious recommend all writers get an editor but Frontma is MINE, damn it and if you don't like it -- Thunder Dome!)

(Please note that the story starts out a bit awkward but it does get rolling. You may assume that Echo does not date -- AT ALL; before meeting our hero. That may help you make sense of some of her actions. Also, as explained later, Dominic is, in fact, a FREAKING genius-savant, but not in a way that helps him with women)

*

I'd never really been wealthy until I graduated college, but I'd been close to it. At nine, I had been given a scholarship to an exclusive prep school and that had opened doors into higher education. By the time I got my Master's in International Finance, I'd networked myself into a really sweet job way ahead of schedule. I had the nice apartment overlooking the city, the prerequisite sports car, and the healthy bank account. I thought I was the master of my own fate--foolish me.

I am at LA's Castro Club on a Friday night with several of my co-workers and their dates when my GF Stephanie and I have a huge throw-down and part ways for the evening. After she took off in a huff and I'm sitting back watching some of my friends dance, this smallish, attractive brunette tugs on my sleeve.

"Hey, handsome, would you like to dance?" she smiles. She's older, nice looking, and Stephanie has split up with me over some bit of drama for the night, maybe forever-- just like last weekend.

"Sure," I respond happily. She grabs my hand and yanks me through the crowd at the edge of the dance floor, but not onto it.

In short order she brings me up to a table where there are several females sitting, including a beautiful, black-haired, dark-skinned, statuesque woman giving the world a frosty glare.

"Hey ..." the brunette starts to say.

"Dominic Umstead," I fill in.

"Dominic, this is Echo Ashaz and she needs a dance partner," the woman tells me. I find that hard to believe; she's freaking gorgeous. She's as tall as I am-- taller with those heels. She's clearly of Middle Eastern descent with almond eyes and curves that just won't quit. I'm suddenly glad Steph and I had that fight.

"Echo, care to dance?" I say, playing my role. Echo looks at me like I'm some piece of filth she'd like to scrape off her shoe. Before I can back the fuck out of this situation, her friend grabs Echo's hand and shoves us together.

Echo seems to consider her options before grabbing my hand in a strong grip and dragging me to the dance floor. When we get to a good spot, she turns around and burns a hole through me with her eyes.

"Touch me and I'll break your hand," she seethes. I look shocked. Defying her, I put my hand on the small of her back and start shoving her back to the sidelines.

"What?" she snarls.

"I've got better things to do than dance with a frosty, stuck-up bitch like you ... Echo," I snap back.

"It didn't take you long to figure out you weren't getting any tonight," she scoffs.

"Wrong. It didn't take me long to figure out that I didn't want you. There is a difference," I counter. She stops me from pulling her off the floor.

"Listen, if I don't dance with you, my friends will keep dragging guys over to the table. Since you are probably gay I guess it is safe to dance with you. Please stay," she adds with resentment.

"If it means I don't have to see you the rest of the night, then okay," I relent. We get back into the crowd and start dancing. In no time, the crowd presses us together, causing us to start brushing our bodies occasionally. Echo makes an effort to look away when this happens but I sense she's getting into it. The song ends and Echo looks at me, waiting for me to make the next move.

"Do you have anything else lined up for tonight?" I shout into her ear over the noise. She shakes her head reluctantly, looks to the table her friends are at, then looks back to me. The next song picks up and we start dancing again. On the following song I get her to dance facing away from me for part of it. The next one saw her grinding against me for a few furtive moments. Once she lets down her guard, Echo turns out to be a whole lot of fun.

Thirty minutes later, we come out of the crowd, breathing heavily and winding our way over to her girlfriends. Echo is holding my hand and smiling at me while her friends seem mildly stunned to see us still together and me intact.

"It's okay," Echo jokes, "he's gay." With the way she rubbed against me, she knows that's a lie.

"Ha!" I snort. "Echo, ladies, this has been fun, but sadly I have to catch up with my friends. Take care." I go looking for my buddies and we decide to get a late-night bite to eat.

I'm almost at the door when Echo comes up and grabs my arm.

"Thanks, you saved my night," she says quietly before pressing a coaster with her number into my hand. I look at it before following her ass as it moves further into the bar. Of course, I already have a girlfriend (sort of) so I'm not looking for any extra complications in my life.

THE FOLLOWING WEEKEND

Jay and Scott (two of my colleagues) walk into the club with me, dressed for a night on the town and waiting on our respective ladies. I haven't taken twenty steps in when Echo appears before me and she looks unhappy.

"You didn't call," she points out.

"My girlfriend and I made up, Echo. It is good to see you, even so," I add as I try to rejoin my friends.

"Maybe we can dance later," she suggests. I stop and take her in. She's tall, athletic, and highly attractive, but her hands are worn and her nails are short from physical labor.

Also, she's in the same dress she was in last Friday, meaning she's probably some middle-class consumer living above her means; this is a high-end club.

"I'll see what I can do," I lie to her. I barely disentangle from Echo before Stephanie arrives. Her getting jealous over Echo is a problem I don't need.

I try not to think about Echo for the next hour or so as I dance, chat, drink, and have a generally good time. Unfortunately, I'm angling over to the bar for a drink order when I spot Echo and some jerk is giving her a hard time.

I don't really think about it, I just do it. I walk up and slip an arm around Echo's waist.

She's startled and I think she's about to throw a punch when she suddenly recognizes me. I step up and kiss her deeply on the lips.

"Hey, Honey, how's it going? Did you miss me?" I say to her and the jerk. I meet the guy's eyes straight on, daring him to challenge me for my lady. He mutters something and moves his drunken ass away.

"You okay, Echo?" I inquire in a softer voice.

"I was okay without you," she responds. "You didn't need to kiss me."

"It seemed like the thing to do at the time," I counter.

"Are you used to taking what you want, Dominic?" she inquires.

"Not really. Usually I ask what I want to come home with me, and they do if they feel like it. This has been fun but I have to place some drink orders and rejoin my friends. Have a nice night, Echo," I tell her before flagging down the bartender and ordering the drinks. If Echo doesn't need my help, more power to her. I promptly forget the matter and get back to having a good time.

THE FOLLOWING TUESDAY EVENING

I've put a hard day's work (by my standards) and I'm heading home to get in a nice workout, followed by some television since Steph is pulling another all-nighter on a pending case. She promises me that when she makes partner, this shit will end; God, I hope it does, because right now I could use my cock to drive in tent pegs, I'm so horny.

I'm not really paying attention to where I'm going, or how fast I'm getting there, until I spot the flashing red light from the unmarked car behind me. I pull over because it is a well-trafficked street and I'm not likely to get car-jacked. I don't think I was speeding but I pull my license and registration anyway.

The officer walks up along the driver's side and taps on my window. Standing just outside of my angle of vision, I stretched my neck around until I was able to take in the plain-clothed officer's drab, cheap suit hanging off what seemed to be a nice female body.

"License and registration," she requests and I comply. She looks me over for a minute.

"Step out of the car," she commands.

"What is this about officer?" I question.

"Step out of the car," she repeats. This time I comply. As the door swings open and I step out, I look up into Echo's face.

"Oh, fuck, Echo," I sigh with relief, "you scared the crap out of me." She doesn't look amused.

"I am Detective Ashaz to you," she corrects me. "Now up against the car." I'm about to say something about that but by the look on her face, she's not a happy camper. I put my hands on the hood, back to her, and she kicks my legs apart. Next comes the pat down, which is kind of surreal when she brushes over my crotch.

She reaches inside my pockets one at a time and on the second try, she comes up with a baggy with white powder in it.

"What's this?" she asks as she waves the baggy in front of my face. I'm really starting to sweat it because, though it's not mine, this is ten kinds of bad news for me. I'm trying to remember who the best criminal lawyer (who I'm not dating) is in town when she prods me again.

"Well, what is this?" She places it in my hand for me to examine.

"I haven't a clue," I stammer. "I've never seen it before."

"Do you think the judge is going to believe that?" she whispers in my ear. She takes the baggy back.

"I think I need a lawyer," I reply.

"Especially now that your fingerprints are on it; how is that going to look?" she asks. I think we both know the answer to that one; she's suckered me good.

"I have a feeling they aren't going to be happy," I confess. Echo mulls that over for a bit.

"Maybe we can work something out," she offers. Here it comes.

"Like?" I inquire.

"Drive back to your place and I'll follow you. Do something stupid and you'll regret it," she threatens. I contemplate all the calls I could make to deal with this situation but they all boil down to my word versus Echo's.

I park in my spot and Echo takes the guest slot. She has this totally Bad Ass Cop vibe going on which leaves me somewhat pissed, along with afraid, on the elevator ride up. She watches me go into my apartment first, her eyes following me as I move around the room.

"Well?" I say in a somewhat exasperated tone.

"Nice place," she comments.

"Thanks. Now what is this going to cost me?" I grind out. Echo looks disappointed. She crosses the living room and starts peeking into the various other areas of my place. When she gets to the bedroom, she stops and pulls out her handcuffs which she swirls around with one finger.

"You want me to put those on?" I inquire. Echo looks at me impassively, handcuffs still swirling. "Fine," I snap. I walk over to her and snatch the handcuffs from her while watching her smirk.

"Really?" I growl at her grinning face. The smirk doesn't disappear until I snap a cuff on one of her wrists and we start wrestling in the hallway. Belatedly, I realize she's still got her gun.

For whatever reason Echo doesn't go for it, instead trying to get the key out of her pocket while pinning me to the ground. Too bad for her I took Aikido in college. Once we get to the ground, I have her rolled over and her second wrist cuffed behind her back in no time. We are both panting lightly; her eyes are blazing away at me while I lean against the wall next to her. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?

I start by sifting through her pockets to grab that powder she planted on me as well as putting her gun and badge on the kitchen counter. After I dump the powder in the sink and wash it down the drain, I come back to Echo.

"What am I supposed to do with you now?" I ask. She fails to provide me with a vocal answer; her eyes were saying I was in big trouble.

Angrily, I roll her off her stomach to her side when my upcoming tirade dies in my throat. Echo's nipples are punching through her bra into her shirt like bullets they are so aroused. I feel an evil grin crossing my face as I reach out to pinch one of those nipples.

"Mmmphf," she lets slip. I find that encouraging so I roll her onto her back and begin to caress both breasts.

"Let me know when you want me to stop," I offer, but Echo refuses to budge. A little frustrated, I start to unbutton her shirt, letting my hand tease her stomach as I work off her shirt from the bottom up.

"Nice bra," I comment as I realize she's definitely in something way beyond what a police woman would normally wear. It also unfastens from the front, a nice feature right now.

"Did you wear this for me?" I ask, but again I get nothing but an angry glare. "Fine, if you are going to be that way," I accept patiently. I run both my hands behind her back and pull Echo's body up to my lips, taking a nipple into my mouth, and begin to suck and swirl it with my tongue.

"Ah ... ah ... ah," Echo stifles her whimpers as I switch from tit to tit.

"Let me know if you want me to stop," I repeat, but again, nothing; at least her eyes are semi- shuttered. I now rub my right palm across to the bottom of her breasts and onto her stomach, then slip it beneath her belt and onto her panties, silky and smooth.

Finally, that gets a response from Echo; she thrashes and swings her hips about, but that only manages to egg me on. I yank her around, unclasp her belt, unbutton her pants, and begin to work them off. Any minute now I expect her to cry out and stop me. I have to sit on her thighs to work off her shoes and pants. Since she's still playing the silence game, I hoist her up, take her into the bedroom, and toss her on the bed. I imagine that it hurts her wrists a bit but still Echo fails to cry out.

Echo tries to work her way into a sitting position but I keep pushing her back on the bed while I strip down.

"Echo, we can stop this at any time if you would just say something," I tell her. I get nothing but more anger directed at me. I go for the panties next, and though Echo fights, I can sense a degrading of her resistance.

I push Echo onto her back and start running my hands over her body. Her shirt and bra up around her shoulders don't conceal anything, instead adding a strangely erotic appeal to her breasts and upper body. I work another nipple into my mouth, tasting her salty sweat and smelling a faint hint of perfume. I squeeze her breast with one hand, pushing more of the tit into my hungry mouth.

"Aha," she gasps again. I like that sound and I want more of it, so sliding a hand down to her pubic mound seems like it's the right thing to do. Echo has other ideas, thrashing about and keeping her legs tightly locked together. I can pry them apart with my hands but not keep them that way long enough to do anything more than glide a hand along her slit.

Echo curls herself into a ball to keep me at bay. I roll her over to her front, expecting her to stretch back out and keep the fight going. She doesn't play it that way and I find myself staring at her tantalizing ass poking up into the air while she lies face down on my mattress with her hands cuffed behind her back.

I stay at her side and start running my hand along her back, then under her hands to her lower back, along her ass, and ending at her muscular thighs. On each trip I move closer to the spine in the middle and thus the closer to the cleft of her ass. Despite her best efforts, she shudders slightly when I finally slide my hand between her ass cheeks. She attempts to squeeze them tightly but I work my fingers in.

Moving behind her, I attempt to work her legs apart one more time but Echo is having none of it. My next option is to pull Echo back, which she only resists half-heartedly. I look down and see that I've accomplished what I need to; her pussy has become more exposed. I run two fingers up and down between her thighs. She flexes her thighs tighter together but that doesn't help.

When my fingers finally pierce her labia, she's totally sticky with her fluids. I elect to not verbally tease her about this; I'm having too much fun doing it physically. Despite her last minute bucking of the hips, I manage to slip a finger in her slit. Man, her fluids are oily slick and viscous, encasing my finger in her hot glove that seems to entice me further.

"Damn, Echo, you feel fantastic," I whisper unconsciously. I feel her shift around and notice she's now looking up at me. As I slide my finger in one knuckle at a time, Echo squints her eyes.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah," she moans. I like the sound of that so I slip another finger into her snug twat. Echo doesn't disappoint me with her sensual reactions to my efforts.

By now, I'm pumping two fingers furiously into my lovely police woman and she's panting up a storm; her back is soaked with sweat and her thighs are now open and trembling.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiii!!!!" she screams into the mattress as her vagina gushes a small amount of liquid onto my hand and her muscles massage my two fingers.

I leave my hand in place, unmoving, while I lean down and kiss each ass cheek and wait for her to come down from her climax. When I sense her eyes open up and look at me once more, I start to move my hand, causing her to gasp. I try to see what more she's willing to do so I rub my finger up along her anus and press lightly.

"No ... please ... I've never done that," she finally speaks. I wait a moment before relenting, enjoying the moment she unclenches and relaxes. I roll her slowly onto her back, keeping her knees against my chest. She gazes at me uncertainly while I rub my hands along her calves and knees until I feel her tension bleed off.

I let my hands rest on her knees for a minute, then slowly work between them, wedging her legs apart. Echo doesn't make it easy but she doesn't fight too hard either. I can see her mind spinning as she tries to figure out what I'm doing. I run my hands down the back of her thighs until I can feel Echo stressing her muscles and hear a murmur from deep within.

Her thighs come apart and are slowly pushed back. Echo eyes me with more anticipation than stoic resolve now. I move my hand inside her widening gap and lower my lips to her juicy cunt and hooded clit. I kiss there first, then suck gently, causing Echo to roll her head back and exhale deeply. I settle between her legs and begin to move my head along with my lips and tongue.

I lick from right above her anus to her clit, alternating fast and slow strokes. Before long she's thrusting her hips against me and moaning like a freight train. I grab her hips and ass, raising them up, and start adding tongue-fucking to my repertoire.

"Gahahh ... aaahhh," she exhales rapidly. I start working her over in a frenzy of moves, causing Echo to start working up to her second orgasm.

"Please ... Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiii," she goes off again. I drink more of her than last time and her love canal does a good job working over my delving tongue. I tease her along for over a minute before I raise my head up to soak in the pleasure of watching her afterglow. Sweaty and disheveled, she has never looked more beautiful and I tell her so.

Maneuvering around to her head, I point my cock toward her mouth. She studies it with some uncertainty as if she is deciding if she should bite it or suck it while I wait patiently. Echo finally opens her lips enough for me to push my cockhead along her lips. Soon she's tonguing my knob and starting to take more in. I place a hand on the top of her head, grab a knot of hair, and slowly start fucking her face.

Echo is game for this and starts cooing around the shaft she is swallowing. She's not a pro and she's not deep-throating me, but the friction and the tongue action she provides is excellent. We get into a steady rhythm with the occasional break for Echo to breathe properly. She becomes more aggressive as she senses my climax on the horizon.

I've tried to make it as clear as possible that I'm going to shoot my load but Echo keeps the faith and opts to swallow rather than mess up her face or clothing. I keep things steady until I feel my rod shrink out of her mouth. She licks the head of the last dribbled bits eagerly. I rise up, stroking her hair in appreciation of what she's done for me.

I lean in and lick off the few dribbles she's missed, then kiss her nose and lips. We settle in on our sides, hers for the sake of her handcuffs and mine so that I can stare at her body. When she gives me the faintest of smiles, I start moving in on her shoulders and neck, laying sweet little butterfly kisses. Since I'm not paying attention to her tits, Echo has taken to rubbing them against my chest in a very distracting fashion.

Echo somehow rises up on top of me, her shoulders pulled back because of the cuffs, making her breasts stand out even further. Echo starts rubbing along my shaft, spreading her thick, oily flow down my shaft to my ball-sack. I start to sit up, pushing Echo back into a sitting position on her knees and thighs. Unlike last time, her legs are wide open and wafting of her sex appeal.

I slip off the bed and pad down the hallway to get the key while Echo's eyes try to follow me. She remains slightly tense while I remove the cuffs and sit down beside her. Echo rubs her red wrists while remaining on her knees facing me, staring eye to eye.

"What now?" Echo finally asks.

"I still have a girlfriend, Echo. Besides, you did kind of ambush me and threaten me with jail time to get me back here," I explain to her.

"It was baking powder," Echo informs me. "You were in no real danger."

"So the abuse of police powers doesn't bother you, Echo? I don't appreciate being treated like that," I scold her.

"I -- well ... I don't know why but I couldn't stop thinking about you," she mumbles. "I have to admit that this made more sense when I was horny this afternoon."

"Yeah ... okay. So how did you find out who I was?" I inquire.

"I asked the bartender after you paid for the drinks at the bar with your credit card. Badges do things like that for you," she informs me. "I found out where you worked from your financials, then I waited for you at work and followed you to a convenient place to pull you over."

"I hope you know we aren't going to do this again; right?" I tell her. I hope she knows that is not really a question.

"Um ... okay," she sighs. "I admit, I have come across as crazy, but I'm not normally like this."

"Hey," I smile as I stroke her cheek, "I have to say this is a date I won't soon forget."

"Was this our first date?" Echo smiles suggestively.

"First, last, only," I inform her, but I keep a compassionate tone; I'm not really so pissed anymore.

"Is the date over yet?" insinuating to me there could be more.

"Echo, remember, I do have a girlfriend," I remind her. "I'm a bit out of bounds as it is."

"That's not a 'no'," she grins.

"First you won't talk to me and now you are trying to put words in my mouth, Echo. What is your game?" I respond.

"When we arrived here I didn't know what to say. Initially I was going to blackmail you into sex, but I realized after being with you that it would be a mistake," she tells me.

"So you let me wrestle you to the ground, handcuff you, strip you, and then have oral sex with you?" I wonder. Echo nods with stunning and unlooked for meekness.

"Speaking of sex, why didn't we have any?" she asks.

"No condoms," I explain. "I was planning on getting back with my girlfriend tonight but that fell through but I was still going to pick some up later tonight."

"Damn," she grumbles, "I knew I should have brought some."

"On that note," I suggest, "we should get dressed and you should go." Echo's shoulders droop and she starts putting her bra and shirt in order. She keeps glancing over to me as she gracefully clothes herself and I can't tell if she's embarrassed or curious. I would prefer that she be contrite.

At the door Echo turns and grabs my wrist.

"This has been the best sex I've had in a long time," she expresses to me.

"Um ... okay," I stammer.

"I guess that tells you something about my sex life," she chuckles dryly.

"Why is that? You are very pretty, and when you aren't trying to threaten me or arrest me, I like being around you," I relate.

"Oh," she shrugs, "most guys I meet want to either dominate me because I'm a female cop, or they want me to dominate them for the same reason. Those types turn my stomach."

"But I don't?" I question.

"We spent all that time on the dance floor but you never put your hands inappropriately on me; and when I gave you shit, you nearly dumped me back on my friends," she explains. "You weren't a macho asshole and you weren't a wimp."

"So we come back here and I wrestle you into some handcuffs ... and I get all of this attention because I'm not a jerk. I'm honored, I guess," I answer.

"Too bad you are taken. Is she nice to you?" she inquires.

"Stephanie is a bright girl. She's a criminal litigator at Bronson and Sheers and she's really great at her job. A mutual friend hooked us up when I moved out here. As for being nice -- we fight and we both work a lot, but I like to think that we are compatible."

"That's a ringing endorsement," she notes sarcastically.

"I can't say that we are in love but we have the same friends, hang out at the same places, and like the same things," I tell her.

"Does she like having sex with you as much as I do?" she asks.

"Out!" I insist. I gently prod her out the door, lean against it when it shuts, and take a deep cleansing breath.

"Well," I mutter to myself, "That was fucked up." At least the lady with the gun was out of my place, and hopefully my life. I figured I needed a little help with this so I went over to my phone and gave Stephanie a call. She's a lawyer after although I don't want to talk to her about Echo.

"Hey, Dominic," she answers.

"Hey, Steph," I begin. I am hearing some movement in the background; not unexpected, but then I hear 'Room service' and suddenly it is not okay. We remain silent for several seconds as Steph must have figured out that I heard that too.

"Okay," I say carefully, "I'll let you get back to your work."

"Wait, Dominic -- " she starts to say before I hang up.

"Dominic," she says shakily when she calls back, "it is not what you think."

"You are in a hotel room when you told me you would be at work. What have I misunderstood?" I grumble.

"I'll come by tonight and we'll talk about it," she suggests.

"Are you going to shower before you stop by?" I smirk.

"Dominic, stop trying to make me the bad guy here," she snaps back.

"That's right. I was sexing up a hot lady earlier tonight but I tossed her out before we did the deed because I didn't want to cheat on you," I confess.

"Dominic, you are a bastard!" Steph shouts before cutting the connection. This is turning into a wonderful fucking night -- God damn it.

(NEXT WEDNESDAY)

"Dominic, you have Children's Welfare Charity on Friday night so don't forget," Katya reminds me. She is the Floor PA for me and the five other people here in Projections. I spin in the hallway and feign a collapse.

"Don't do that," she tsk-tsk's me. "Stay with your date and the cougars won't swoop off with you."

I've heard about this function. It is like feeding the youth of the financial world into the grist mill of High Society sexual politics. Worse, my company President, Brad Pierce, knows me (we really like each other) and expects me to show up. Since I like the guy and my future plans rely on staying on his good side, I'm going.

"I'll think of something," I concede.

I make the handful of steps over to my office and start going through my call list, phoning the few unattached women I know. My luck being what it is, they are all either previously committed or attached and I'm down to Stephanie. We haven't talked since the 'room service' call.

Actually, I have two mutually unattractive choices. Recalling her digits are pretty easy for me; making the call is not.

"Detective Ashaz," Echo answers.

"Hello, Echo, it's Dominic Umstead," I inform her.

"Oh," she says after a moment. "I need to call you back; I'm working."

"Oh-kay," I respond, right before she hangs up. Well, that didn't go as badly I thought it would.

That night I'm walking into my apartment when the phone rings. I'm praying it isn't work calling me back in but caller ID makes my heart beat faster.

"Hey," I respond.

"Dominic, it's Echo. What do you want?" she says abruptly. Oh, this is not good.

"I was wondering if you want to go out Friday night," I inquire.

"I thought we were done," she counters.

"Well, things can change. I'd like to take you to a company function if you would like to come," I go on.

"Where is your girlfriend?"

"Things didn't work out the way I thought they would," I confess.

"She cheated on you," Echo chuckles.

"What makes you think that? You are right, but what made you say it?" I sigh.

"I'm a cop. When a relationship doesn't work out, it always boils down to someone cheating," she instructs me. "As for the date, why me?"

"Is it hard for you to believe I want to spend the evening with you?" I offer.

"Do I have to drag you downtown and interrogate you or are you going to be honest with me?" she threatens.

"Besides you being a downright sexy woman with curves to die for, you were the second to last person on my list. Everyone else was busy," I explain.

"Second to last? I imagine you ex-girlfriend would be last, then. I need to think about this," she replies. She hangs up and I go to the in-house gym to work out my frustrations.

The call catches me in the shower so I have to slip across the tile floor to the video phone in the hall.

"Dominic," I pant into the phone.

"Dominic, if you are trying to convince me to go out with you, it is working," Echo sounds amused. I have to think about that for the moment, then I realize the phone shows a lot of my naked body. I feel like editing this day from my memory.

"I've tried Party Animal and Rich Playboy, and since those didn't work, I decided to go for Man Candy this time out," I laugh. Echo gives me a snort.

"Fine, what is the party going to be like?" she inquires.

"Black tie affair with tons of rich people; it is the Children's Welfare Charity," I inform her. I can tell she is hesitating again but I think I know why.

"I'll do it, but mostly to make up for the stupid stunt I pulled on you. Don't make too much out of this. Do I meet you there or are you going to pick me up?" she tells me.

"I'll pick you up. What are you going to wear?" I inquire.

"Do I need to wear anything special?" she responds. The problem is one of economics -- notably her underwhelming public sector paycheck.

"I tell you what; since I'm dumping this on you at the last moment, why don't I buy you an evening gown for the event?" I offer. I can hear her mental gears grinding.

"Oh ... how would that work?" she finally says.

"We could do an early lunch tomorrow and hit some shops along the Strip," I suggest. Again she seems to weigh her options before replying.

"Fine, I'll meet you outside of you work address at eleven," she instructs me. "Will there be anything else I need to know?"

"I'm glad I gave you a call, Echo," I admit. I hear her snort over the phone.

"If you say so," she responds.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning at eleven sharp," I say as I get ready to sign off.

"Good night, Dominic ... and thanks for calling," she says before the connection ends.

THURSDAY MORNING AT WORK

They come for me at 11:10 and you can hear half the floor stampede for the restroom to dump all their coke, weed, and illegal prescription drugs. Echo and her partner's looks scream cop and everyone thinks they are here on official business. To my credit, I'm carrying my jacket and briefcase coming out of my office with my phone pulled out calling her, so Echo's glower improves to a frown.

"Echo," I say by way of a greeting. I'm trying to sound happy. Her partner turns out to be the brunette from the club that first night. We look each other over and I'm thankful she looks far less upset.

"We were waiting," Echo states.

"Hey, Dominic, I'm Detective Lydia Haversett -- Gloomy's partner," she chortles. I enjoy her humor. "What kept you?"

"Conference call with London," I groan. "To them it's end-of-business so I couldn't jump ship. My apologies, ladies."

"Works for me," Lydia grins. "Now let's get going." She immediately starts to steer us back toward the elevators while I'm trying to be upbeat and Echo keeps studying me. My plan was to take my car, but you would have to shoehorn someone into the rear of my vehicle so we take the unmarked cop car on the shopping expedition.

I guess it would be too much to hope that Echo would be giddy over dress shopping but at least Lydia is getting into it. There is that priceless moment when the saleswoman catches sight of Lydia's gun. Fortunately, Echo spots the woman's panic and shows her a badge before Beverly Hills SWAT storms the place. The next prime moment is when Echo final shifts slightly away from her feigned displeasure and begins looking at some fetching styles.

When she inquires about the price she nearly chokes. Lydia comes over to see what the problem is and shoots me a worried look. I smile and give her a nod that tells her I know exactly what I'm getting into. A little power struggle erupts between Lydia and Echo as Echo starts choosing the cheapest (and that wasn't saying much in this place) and Lydia goes for the most flattering (perhaps too flattering).

When I see Lydia examine this strapless ocean blue satin number with a slit half way to the hip, my interest perks up. Lydia catches that and hustles Echo into the changing room.

"Come here," Lydia whispers to me as she comes racing out of the back area. Before I can resist, I'm dragged around the corner and to the booth were Echo is changing.

Echo is wearing translucent black bra and panties while stepping into the dress. Her head snaps up to regard me, anger flashing in her eyes toward me and Lydia.

"Lydia," Echo growls; I get the feeling our last escapade hasn't been discussed with her partner yet.

"Hey, the man should get to appreciate what he's paying for," Lydia giggles. That argument doesn't win points with Echo so I try for something else. I step up to Echo and run a hand along her jaw, around her ear, to the back of her head. I pull her down and start kissing her tentatively, slowly tickling her lips with my tongue, and then she returns my attention, going into a full passionate embrace.

When we separate, she regards me with lustful curiosity.

"You are a hell of a fox, Detective Echo Ashaz. I think I'll leave you in peace now," I say with a sexually promising smile of my own. I turn and walk back to the main floor.

"Woot!" exclaims Lydia, "you have a live one there."

"You have no idea," Echo mutters loudly enough for my hearing, but I imagine there is a grin with that grumbling.

Echo latches onto my eyes when she comes back to the front. I let out a low whistle but as she sneers, her eyes flash with star-like luminescence. She turns from side to side, letting me drink in her curvaceous lines from the swell of her breasts, the flatness of her stomach, and the shapeliness of her ass.

She keeps moving back and forth in such a seductive dance that I'm caught off guard when Lydia playfully punches my chest.

"You can breathe now," Lydia jokes.

"Wow, Echo," I stammer, "like, Wow."

"I keep feeling like my boobs are going to spring out," Echo gripes. Lydia snickers; I fantasize about helping her fit those puppies back in during the function. As I recall, they feel quite nice.

"Let's go for something in that color but with straps, then," Lydia chimes in. The shopping goes on and we finally do get a dress for Echo, but that night I'm left thinking of her in the dressing room even after I drop off to sleep.

FRIDAY NIGHT

We have a strange little arrangement; Echo meets me at the door of her apartment. I think I catch a glimpse of a cluttered apartment-home before I'm totally absorbed in the lovely woman before me.

"How do I look? Is something wrong?" Echo asks me as she touches her hair and tries to check if she's missed something.

"Umm ... how about this; Beautiful doesn't begin to describe you, Echo," I laud her. "I'm the luckiest man in town tonight." She studies me to see if I'm serious, then slowly grins.

"We'll see about you getting lucky later," she whispers into my ear. Only when I offer her my hand do I realize her purse is bulging.

"Let me guess," I sigh, "you have your gun with you."

"Of course. I'm an off-duty police officer; I always have my gun and badge," she informs me.

"Did you bring your handcuffs," I inquire.

"Yes; why?"

"I hear this party can get wild; you may need to restrain somebody," I suggest.

"Someone like you?" she wonders.

"No, I promise to behave myself," I swear. She looks at me intently.

"Well, don't promise to be too good," Echo bumps me with her hip.

I hold the car door open for Echo and she catches me admiring the slit of her dress riding up to the top of her stockings, plus some. She moves her leg into my car with sensuous grace and it was with great reluctance that I shut the door, cutting off half of my view of her. After I sit down on my side, I bundled us off with haste; I am feeling a bit reckless.

"Buckle up," Echo cautions me with playful chastisement. I'm speeding down the road, unbuckled, with a cop sitting next to me; I start buckling. "Wait until we are at a light."

I see her point and comply at our next stop.

"Don't be so nervous, Dominic; I'm not in the habit of arresting people for every little infraction," Echo tells me. So says the women who turned baking powder into a lethal weapon.

THE CHARITY EVENT

"Dominic!" exclaims Rachel Pierce, my Boss's ex-wife and minority partner in my firm. She and her husband were still married when they recruited me, before I went for my Master's in International Finance. Even back then, I thought she had a thing for me. At the firm's Christmas Party, she had her hand down my pants and was administering a round of tongue wrestling when her secretary stumbled in on us.

I decided it was best to find Stephanie and that had been the end of that.

"Who is your friend?" Rachel asks.

"Rachel Pierce, this is Echo--" I start to introduce my date before she elbows me in the ribs.

"Oh, Ms. Echo, I don't recognize you. What firm are you with?" Rachel asks with false politeness. "I thought Dominic would be alone, seeing how he and Stephanie Waller have so recently broken up."

"I'm with the city," Echo informs her. Echo gives a shark-like clarification, "It is nothing important."

"Are you a professional or a civil servant?" Rachel persists.

"I'm a professional civil servant, "Echo responds.

"I'm a little surprised that Dominic would know someone like you. He normally only spends time with the best and brightest. He was number one in his class at Stanford, after all, and had his Masters by the time he was twenty," Rachel points out.

"I may have graduated from LA City College but I'm far less likely to be a cheating whore who abuses him," Echo shoots right back.

Rachel is stunned by Echo's aggression.

"Rachel, Echo is a good friend and was here for me when I caught Stephanie cheating on me," I say. "She is a wonderful person."

"Oh, well," Rachel smirks, "Stephanie is here with Carl Dunne, in case you are interested."

Rachel turns and walks away, tossing a look over her shoulder as Echo and I watch her backless forest green gown move across the floor.

"Wonderful person?" Echo gripes to me. "Your grandmother is a wonderful person, not your date."

"What did you want me to say?" I retort. "You look hot naked on my bed with your hands cuffed behind your back"?

"I ... Grrr ... I see your point. We don't really know each other," Echo sighs. "For instance, are you some kind of freaking genius?"

"The term 'genius' gets tossed around too often," I shrug. "I am good with math, statistics, and have a talent for remembering things, and those combined skills make me, and the Pierces, a great deal of money. So what is the deal with you?"

"There is something seriously wrong with us that we haven't discussed any of this before now," Echo mutters.

"Okay. I make my living predicting the fluctuations in currency and real estate values, things like Central Bank Promissory notes and how a given commercial and residential neighborhood will trend," I bore her, except I don't.

"So you get global criminal data?" she stares intently.

"Sure." I see where she is going because she's a cop. "I get reports from 84 countries plus Interpol."

"Can you access bank records?" Echo nearly salivates.

"Not individual accounts, but I can track and predict the movement of funds on a national and international basis," I start to worry.

"Do you get any drug data?" she inquires eagerly.

"Of course. High incidences of drug crimes degrade an area's value but result in a corresponding economic activity at 'clearing' points -- places were money is laundered. We are also walking on some dangerous terrain as this is privileged information," I caution her.

"Fine," Echo seems a bit frustrated. "I work for the Organized Crime Taskforce, which means we act as a clearinghouse for information between the various departments of the LAPD, Los Angeles Sheriff's Department, and state and federal agencies on matters dealing with crimes that perpetuate beyond the metropolitan area." I know what she wants me to do, though she hasn't formulated the request yet.

"Would you like me to look at some property and banking records for you?" I offer.

"Dominic, I want you to know this is not why I've been interested in you," Echo backpedals. "I looked you up, I knew you worked at a financial firm, but I had no idea what you did, only that you didn't have a criminal record."

"In retrospect, I should have looked into your college records as well," Echo grins. "You looked like yet another over-privileged playboy so I made an assumption -- and we know how assumptions work out."

"What? Huh? Did you say something?" I tease. "I was scoping out your assumptions."

Echo gives me a wicked grin as she leans in.

"Don't make me handcuff you then shoot you in the classic LAPD style," she whispers.

"I don't know; that might be fun. Where would you shoot me?" I banter.

"In the nuts," she responds quietly.

"I've never been a boy scout but I seriously want to emulate one right now," I gulp.

"You can be yourself," she assures me. "The real you is polite enough."

"That's nice of you to say, 'Gloomy'," I chide her. Echo surreptitiously put her hand on my bicep, then squeezed it painfully, like she'd inflicted this on a person a time or two.

"I don't like that name," she smiles sweetly. "You haven't earned the right to use it, and you won't use it again unless I tell you that you can." I don't back down easily.

"Whatever you say," I grind my teeth. "Next time I meet Lydia, I'll call you Sexy Bunny instead."

Echo opens her mouth to make another threat but she catches herself.

"Dom!" my boss Brad Pierce calls out. I don't recognize the beautiful Chinese woman of mixed heritage on his arm (I'm thinking Malaysian/Chinese). "Come on, I want you to Michael Harrow of the Harrow Group. He is that big account that we've been hunting and you're our man with the eye for figures."

"Echo -- Brad Pierce, my boss. Brad, she's --" I manage to get out.

"She's happy to meet you," Echo interrupts. She offers Brad her hand and he shakes it.

"My companion is Aya Yen," Brad introduces his companion.

"Malay Capital Investments," I grin.

"Do we know each other?" she asks in an overtly polite fashion.

"Your name comes up all the time on real estate reports," I remind her. She blinks in surprise.

"I don't do real estate transactions," Aya tries to correct me.

"No, but you do a great deal of loan approvals," I point out. Aya stares at me and Echo tightens her grip on my arm.

"That's my boy," Brad laughs. "Dom remembers everything -- and I mean everything -- he ever reads unless it is a business appointment; those he somehow manages to forget." Aya gives an incredibly correct laugh, as do I.

"Ah, and here I was hoping this handsome young man was paying particular attention to me," she smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Pity."

Brad leads the way to a tall, blonde, well-muscled man in his mid-forties. He has the look of a man constantly challenging the natural world with the same aggression he tackles the business world. I hear about guys like Michael Harrow; he is one of those hyper Type A personalities who not only has to win, he has to make you lose. He doesn't just kill you; he kills your hopes, dreams, and ambitions before your eyes...then he kills you; figuratively or so I thought.

My boss wants this guy's portfolio too -- oh, joy. Well, I didn't imagine I'd been going over every aspect of Harrow's life for the past two weeks for nothing. Brad likes putting me on special projects but it would be nice if he would lighten my normal workload when he did it. It means I actually have to work, damn it.

Michael turns and regards us in a rather unsettling fashion. The ice-cold blonde on his arm looks like she would only be happy killing clowns for a living but is introduced as his daughter.

"Hello, Brad," Michael greets us with thin patience. "Is this your Wunderkin you've been bragging about?"

"Yes," Brad smiles. "This is Aya Yen, my gracious date for tonight. The lady on Dom's arm is Echo, and this fine young man is Dominic Umstead."

"Fine," Michael sounds bored, "dazzle me, Mr. Umstead."

"What do you want to know?" I ask.

"That's very original," Michael sneers. I have the feeling this interview is about over.

"Very well: you aren't Michael Harrow, that woman isn't your daughter, and you have eighteen Total Sum Profit businesses controlled by holding companies under your control, but hidden behind a half-dozen banks that you have influence with," I answer.

"What do you mean, I'm not Michael Harrow?" Michael slaps me upside the head in a way that is normally mistaken for a paternal gesture but was applied with enough force to make my ear ring. "Really, Brad, what kind of moron are you hiring these days?" To his credit, Brad doesn't throw me to the wolves.

Echo starts coming around, as does winter-chic with Michael.

"Ouch," I cringe, "that hurt. As for you not being Michael Harrow, your income projections were all wrong. The Michael Harrow who lived thirteen years ago didn't have the initiative, resources, or connections to get where you are today."

His look is not a good one but since I've never seen homicidal before, I don't know how much trouble I'm in.

"Oh, and if you touch me again, I'm putting you into the floor, Mr. Harrow, just so there are no miscommunications," I add with a grin.

"Let's see about that, Dom," Michael challenges me as he prepares to do just that.

"She's got a gun," the ice-chick comments softly so only our immediate gathering can hear.

"I was planning to drive Dominic up to the Hollywood sign after the party and shoot Jack Daniel's bottles off his head," Echo glares at the woman, "but now you've ruined the surprise."

"Seriously?" I look Echo's way.

"What do you carry?" the blonde persists.

"A gun -- it's made of metal and has bullets in it; that's all you need to know," Echo ripostes. I am not sure what happens next; I'm pretty sure Michael tries to smack me upside the head again.

They say I threw him down the marble stairs but I was going on all-out instinct. I'm not sure because a second later, I went sprawling. I look up to see ice-chick clutching her throat as if she can't breathe. That is because I just missed Echo punching her trachea. She is looking at Echo who promptly smashes her in the temple with her purse, sending ice babe into la-la land. I am now reminded that I work for the best guy in the business.

"Sorry, Mike," Brad calls down the stairs, "but the kid warned you." He comes back over to me and helps me up as Aya and Echo hover close by.

"No worries," Brad pats me on the back. "I'd heard he was difficult to deal with but that was nuts. By the way, your new girlfriend beat the hell out of his bodyguard. I'm glad to see you moved on after Stephanie. She's was high maintenance. Trust me, I know the type," he adds with a wink.

"Interesting moves," Aya observes. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm current unemployed but I grew up in a rough neighborhood," Echo smiles. I'm lucky my jaw doesn't drop off. Isn't this the moment a cop should show her badge and tells everyone things are okay?

"My girlfriend Stephanie and I broke up earlier this week and there was a mutual friend who hooked us up," I help fabricate the falsehood. "It turns out we'd actually met a few times before too so it wasn't even like we were strangers."

"Well, you are lucky she agreed to be your date tonight because I'm not sure what that woman would have done to you," Brad chuckles as he leads me away. He soon spins us off so that he can do damage control.

"That was unexpected," Echo muses once we've grabbed some champagne.

"What is your interest?" I counter.

"I may tell you later if we get out of this alive -- trouble." Echo points me in the right direction. Michael Harrow and his somewhat battered but clearly furious companion are coming my way.

"Let me handle this," Echo whispers to me.

"That would kind of defeat you lying to him and my boss about what you do for a living," I remind her.

"We need to talk...outside," Harrow insists.

"I can give you ten reasons why that is not going to happen, first being that I'm not sure how much plastic surgery my insurance covers." I try to make light of the situation.

"I'm not...too angry, Mr. Umstead. I actually want you to consider a job offer," Michael grins like a lion on the prowl.

"Oh...wow...thank you very much, sir. That was unexpected," I answer carefully, "but I like working with Brad Pierce. He's always looked out for me and I owe him my loyalty. Hell, he's like a father to me...actually, more than a father since my dad was a drunk who ended up wrapping himself around a tractor-trailer one night when I was a six."

"You haven't heard the offer," Michael uses his size in an intimidating manner.

"Mr. Harrow, if you offer me more than I'm worth, I would get suspicious, and if you offer me less than what I'm worth, I wouldn't be interested," I state. "Cost analysis is what I do. If you want my services, please give Pierce and Pierce the contract."

"You are really starting to piss me off," Michael growls, but I am getting the feeling this is some sort of contest he wants to play out because he knows he's destined to win and he wants to savor that moment.

"That's not what I had planned," I back up, "but then, your happiness has never been a real concern for me. You are not a friend and you don't wear the right kind of lingerie to make me question my morals."

He glares and he glares, and then he laughs long and loud. He makes as if to slap my upper arm but holds back at the last second.

"I like men who don't fold up at the first sign of violence, Dominic," he stares fiercely at me. "That wasn't in your profile. It indicated you were self-absorbed and rudderless."

"That could be the fault of your data, or maybe your data interpreter," I relate. "Personality profiling is more of a sideline for me, not my main area of expertise." He laughs again but it was merely a distraction.

"You still don't think I'm Michael Harrow," he asks casually.

"Four things: movies, flowers, prophylactics, and porn," I explain. "For a guy who is now knocking it back with four or five smoking hot babes a month, your dating profile for the first twenty-three years of your life was abysmal."

"You are joking," he seems really amused. "You think I'm an imposter because of the women I see?"

"Michael Harrow was a dating nobody; all credit cards associated with him show it," I continue. "He was virtually invisible until thirteen years ago when he/you were the beneficiary of multiple unsecured loans, and the rest is history."

"And this theory is based on dating history. I hope you understand how insane that sounds?" Michael shakes his head.

"It would sound a lot more nuts if you were not standing in front of me with a job offer," I point out.

"You are getting the job offer because you have stones, Dominic," he gives a sinister grin. "The last thing I want right now is some pointless slander, though."

"That won't be a problem; my analysis is the property of the client and the Pierces," I inform him. "I'm not in the news services or with any PR firm. I make people money and I like to think I'm good at it."

"What is with the personality profile, then?" he questions me.

"I'm hardly earning my paycheck if I put your finances together with someone who is irrational, idiotic, or corrupt," I detail. "It is part of the service."

"I could make you a very rich and successful man," Michael prods.

"I'll be rich no matter what," I brag, "and I have all the success I want right here," I wrap an arm around Echo's waist.

"I'll see you later, Dominic," Michael snorts. He turns and heads out.

"You are fast," the icicle finally speaks.

"Thank you," I nod to the woman.

"Fine," growls Echo. Maybe the woman was talking to me and maybe she was talking to Echo. She walks away to catch up with Michael so I may never know. I want to ask Echo something important but...

"Well, that was an epic disaster," Stephanie comments from behind me. I turn and there she is with Carl Dunn, an associate at the same law firm and probably the guy she was cheating on me with.

"Are you referring to our relationship or your decision to come here with a man more than six inches shorter than you?" I force a smile. Carl, who is five-four in lifts, bristles at the jibe.

"Your lack of ambition always disappointed me," Stephanie shoots back.

"Dom, this is the skank you tossed me out of your place for? This is the woman you were so faithful to?" Echo joins in.

"You really had a bimbo at your place that night?" Stephanie sounds surprised.

"Yeah," I mock her, "one of us was actually faithful in our relationship, Steph."

"Give it a rest," Carl growls. "You were never there for Stephanie."

"I'm not a bimbo but I did stop by his place that night and I did want to fool around with him," Echo glares at Steph.

"How about this not being the place for this conversation, Steph?" I intervene.

"Are you tired of making a fool of yourself?" she counter-mocks me.

"Careful, Steph; I still have that video of you with that thing up your ass and me coming home to help you get it out," I taunt her.

"What? You bastard," Stephanie hisses. "You told me you deleted that thing."

"Oh," I grin, "that was comedy gold. I simply couldn't get rid of it."

"Don't you dare show that to anyone," she whispers harshly.

"That's the difference between you and I; I would never betray a confidence," I remind her.

"Dominic," Rachel Pierce came gliding over, "the dancing is about to begin and I have a few things I want to talk to you about." I give Echo a hopeless look right before I was swept away by my other boss. I recall Katya warning me about staying close to my date or I'll be snagged by the cougars roaming the crowd. Damn it, she lied to me. Cougars are predatory felines while dates are a fruit from the Middle East; cougars aren't afraid of dates.