Reggie's Girl Ch. 01

McComb turned and smiled at her. "Yes, it is."

She looked down at her camera.

"You like Italian, though, right?"

She nodded. "Sure."

"Good. And now, I'll have to ask you your measurements..."

She swung her face to stare at him. "My what?"

"You can't walk into a restaurant dressed as you are," McComb explained. "Italian or otherwise."

Jasmine clutched her fraying cardigan tighter around her. It was too much. Was she supposed to go to dinner with this fiend now? Like some kind of date?

"That sweater means a lot to you," he commented.

"My... grandmother made it for me." All of a sudden, she was on the verge of tears. Her Nana seemed so far away from her now.

"You hold on to it when you're feeling defensive."

It was impossible to answer him. She just sat looking down, trying to blink her wide eyes dry again.

"I'll make you a deal, Jasmine." His lying voice was so gentle, so reasonable that it was all Jasmine could do not to burst into tears.

She swallowed hard. "Sure."

"You give me your measurements, and I'll get out at the next red light."

Done! "28-22-34."

"Cup?"

She looked at him in bewilderment.

His hollow eyes slid over her chest.

"28... C, right?"

Jasmine shuddered in revulsion. "Right," she concurred in strangled tones.

McComb opened the door and stepped out of the car into the light traffic jam which held them stationary. When he shut the door, Jasmine heaved several huge sighs of relief.

He was gone, even if for a moment, he was gone!

"Yeah."

She looked in front to the driver's seat. Was Tiny talking to her?

"Will do."

She saw his huge hand deposit a phone on the dashboard.

"Looks like you're going to the salon. Reggie'll meet us there."

Now he was talking to her.

"O-okay."

But it didn't look like the "salon" was open for business anyhow. A perplexed Jasmine couldn't even see a sign that identified the place as such. It was just a black, unmarked door, locked for the night.

Tiny raised his fist and shook the thick metal with his pounding. At once, he was answered by a series of rattling chains and sliding bolts. Then the door swung open and they were greeted by a striking Amazon, batting her incredible eyelashes at Tiny.

Jasmine cast a rueful eye on her redundant stilettos. It seemed that everyone tonight was going to make her, at 5'7", feel short - and well, white.

"Hi, I'm Kai," she introduced herself in the deepest, sexiest growl God ever gave a woman. She smiled at Jasmine and ushered her in. "Quick, I've got to get started on you right away."

Kai indicated a huge chair before a mirror. Jasmine went to sit on it, surprised that this was indeed a salon, and a rather posh one too.

"Tiny, your goodies are in the next room," Kai informed him, her voice turning coy.

In the mirror, Jasmine saw a brightly-taloned hand emerge from beyond a bead curtain, catch Tiny by the collar and haul all his breadth inside the adjoining room.

Jasmine looked away in embarrassed haste, but Kai had already closed the door. "And burn some incense when you're done," she yelled over her shoulder to the ensconsed occupants.

Her sky-high spike heels clicked on the ceramic tiles as she approached Jasmine, studying her elfin features in the mirror.

"Aren't you a doll," she purred in her smoky alto. "Look at that young skin, no wonder you don't bother with make-up."

It didn't take Kai's quick fingers long to wash Jasmine's hair. Then she trimmed it into layers which she flat-ironed. Soon, she had finished a thorough facial. Jasmine gawked at her reflection when it was done.

"Like it?" Kai asked, but it was more smirk than question.

Jasmine lifted a hesitant hand to her hair, not quite daring to touch the silky brackets that fell around the tip of her chin, accentuating the heart shape of her face. The rest of her hair flowed, in progressively longer layers, to her collarbone, past her shoulders and down her back. A simple enough look, but in terms of maturity light years from her girlish ponytail.

She blinked sooty, mascaraed eyelashes, the only cosmetic Kai had made heavy use of. She'd applied a whisper of shimmery eyeshadow, the blush looked natural in its subtlety and her lips bore just enough strawberry gloss to set off the matching tint in her hair.

"It's incredible," Jasmine said, turning her head this way and that.

"I'm incredible," Kai quipped by way of explanation, then she shrugged. "But it's Reggie who made it happen. You be sure to always remember that, k?"

"K." Jasmine's brow creased into a troubled frown. "Is he... is he as bad as they say?"

"Ugh, honey, nobody is as bad as they say," Kai retorted, lifting one white foot, then the other out of the footbath Jasmine had been stepping in.

"D'you have any idea what they said about me? That I was an affront to the Christian faith, and let's not even get started on the Islamic one..."

She tossed her mahogany mane over her sequined shoulder, then resumed the pedicure. "Hell, even the rational atheists had a go," she sighed as if heartbroken. "It's a sad day when the words 'abnormal' and 'freak' are in liberal use, if you take my meaning."

When Jasmine didn't respond, Kai looked up in the mirror. She saw her genuine confusion; she had no idea what the other woman was talking about.

"Aww," Kai cooed. She straightened in her chair and cocked her head to the side. "You didn't realize."

"What?"

Kai giggled and leaned closer. "I wasn't always a girl," she whispered, then laughed when the other's jaw hit the floor.

Jasmine felt unutterably naïve. "Gosh, I didn't... I'm so sorry, I didn't know-"

"Thank you," Kai cut in, determined to take it as a compliment. She began working on Jasmine's other foot. "That's a relief. Well, it's always a relief when the first response isn't to knock my teeth out, but..."

She caught the horror in Jasmine's eyes and smiled. "It's okay, honey, that's a thing of the past," she assured her. "Nobody fucks with me now. And they won't fuck with you either from here on out, you know why?"

She leaned closer when Jasmine shook her head. "Because we're Reggie's girls." Her glee allowed her voice to come out as a squeal. "Untouchable."

For the rest of the pedicure, Jasmine remained silent, mulling Kai's words over.

"Sounds like he saved you," she muttered when her feet were done.

"He did!" Kai declared without hesitation as she gathered her instruments. "If it wasn't for Reggie, by now, I'd be a dead man. Twice the tragedy, I know."

"But why?" Jasmine turned round in her chair to look up at her. "What did he get out of it?"

Kai gave her an indulgent, almost maternal smile. "What do you think? I don't have any money. Well, I didn't," she amended with a casual shrug. "He knows I'm a fucking goddess, of course, but... well, I'm not his type. So what's left, d'you think?"

Jasmine frowned in reflection but didn't answer.

Kai laughed. "Jasmine - it's Jasmine, right? - don't believe everything you hear." She shook her head as she smiled at her. "Just don't. Because a lot of the time, they don't have a fucking clue."

Just then, McComb opened the door and walked in carrying multiple shopping bags. "She ready, Kai?"

Kai looked at him in mock-indignation. "Of course, she is! Trying to say I'm losing my touch?"

He flashed a devilish smile. "I'm not that crazy."

His eyes slid over Jasmine, surveying her transformation. "Unless it's about her."

"I can see that. I'd never expect you to go shopping for a girl," Kai smirked.

He nodded to Jasmine as he walked to where she sat. "She does." When he was behind her chair, he bent over he shoulder to admire her profile. "She knows she's got me wrapped round her little finger," he murmured.

Jasmine's cheeks grew pinker.

"In all the excitement, we forgot about your shoes," McComb whispered, bringing his nose to her hair. "But I got you a bunch of sizes you can try."

"Thank you," she said in a meek voice. "Can I change by myself?"

He nodded and placed the bags in her lap. "Of course. Don't be long."

Kai showed her to a surprisingly spacious restroom then closed the door, revealing a full-length mirror behind it. Alone for the first time that night, Jasmine ripped her phone out of her pocket.

She dialed, then waited with the phone at her ear. Why wasn't Ted picking up? She dialed again, began to pace. He still wasn't answering.

Jasmine put the phone down beside the sink, her vibrating hand making it clatter a little. What to do, what to do?

It was clear McComb was on some kind of charm offensive here, at least until he figured out just who she was. No doubt he'd instructed Kai to feed her the official Life and Times of Saint Reginald - when he might even be the one behind her wrecked tires!

With a weary shake of her head, Jasmine began to undress. She'd better get moving, lest he impose his assistance on her. He seemed in a mood to do something like that, just to see her even more petrified than she already was.

When she came out, Tiny had returned. Kai fussed over her dark green silk dress, saying how "divine" it went with her hair. McComb was more restrained in his praise. He wanted them to get going.

The ride to the restaurant was no less nerve-racking for Jasmine. But as she kept looking down at her dress, she marveled that he hadn't made her wear something skimpy and degrading.

She was very comfortable in the high-necked, sleeveless sheath. It hugged her form, but ended just below her knees and so did not restrict movement.

She couldn't complain about the shoes either. The black, strappy sandals were beaded with pretty bottle-green crystals. The heels were high but not stripperish. Overall, it was a surprising selection. She wiggled her scarlet-tipped toes in wonder.

"I hope you like the outfit."

Jasmine looked up at him, aware of her relieved expression but unable to help it. "It's nice."

McComb regarded her with a pleased look. "You like the teddy?"

Her blush blazed its way to her hairline and she glanced out the window. "It's- adequate," she maligned the unspeakably sumptuous confection underneath her dress.

"You should model it for Ted when he comes back."

Jasmine turned to him again with a speculative look. He spoke of Ted coming back as if he wanted him to.

"I hope he comes back," she said in a low, serious voice. "A lot of people care about Ted very much, and if anything were to happen to him-"

"God forbid," McComb interrupted. "In any case, he's not been gone six hours. Let's at least wait awhile before we start getting pessimistic."

"You think he'll come back, then?"

"Either that, or I'll find him."

"I can't help thinking he'd turn up quicker if you stayed away," Jasmine dared, her eyes wide.

"I need to speak with him ASAP. That's guarantee enough that he'll be found in the shortest amount of time," he countered, turning to look directly in her eyes. "He will be, thanks to me."

Her slight body bristled with sudden, irrepressible hostility. "It's thanks to you he's missing in the first place!"

A stony silence cradled her outburst. McComb met her gaze dead-on and though he made no move toward her, she drew back in renewed fright.

Good God, was she crazy?! Reggie McComb was not known for taking things in stride!

"I'm sorry," Jasmine gasped, looking down at her lap. The threat of retribution looming large, her heart was in her throat; but in the place of an avenging fist came his voice, soft and infinitely controlled.

"Jasmine."

She turned to him at once, eyes wide and wary.

"Didn't I say I don't want to hurt Ted?"

She nodded.

"And didn't I say I need to find him as much as you do?"

"Yes."

"I meant it. Now it's up to you to decide if you want to help me or get in my way."

Jasmine shook her head, pink lips parted. "I'm willing to work together, sir."

He smiled in satisfaction. "Good girl."

* * *

Throughout dinner, Jasmine fortified her nerves with the full-bodied wine the waiter had suggested. Even so, her host was so convivial, so engaging a conversationalist that she almost enjoyed his company. At any rate, no marination was necessary to make it bearable.

"You know the longer you talk," McComb said at one point, "the more I can hear a little bit of Mississippi in there trying to come out."

Jasmine's head came up, as did her eyebrows. "How did you..."

He laughed as he poured her another glass of the robust red.

"I've got family in the Delta." He smiled at her. "I'm in tune with that area's charms wherever I find them. Especially in times like this. New York has a way of making you real nostalgic for Southern hospitality."

"Yeah," Jasmine sighed, contemplating her wineglass.

"The clean air, the quiet, the comfort food... there's something about the smell of Mississippi Mud Cake, just as it's leaving the oven..."

"Yeah." She closed her eyes and savored a blissful memory. "My Nana used to bake that when I went to visit her. Every summer since I was little."

"Yeah? Summer's almost here. You should go visit her, or is she...?"

"She's alive," Jasmine told him, opening her eyes again. "And very spry, I don't worry about her."

The one she was worried about was Ted. Remembering him made her small smile vanish. She didn't talk much thereafter and they left the restaurant after she declined dessert.

As soon as they passed into the inviting warmth of his car, Jasmine, unused to the caliber of the heady vintage she had downed, dozed off in her corner. Some time later, she thought she heard someone whisper her name.

Wrapped in the velvety folds of sleep, she refused to answer. And disturb her insular idyll? Why would she abandon her succor? In the fell forest of her fears, she had at last found her enchanted clearing. She felt sure and free in a way totally foreign to her in waking hours.

Why, she could be in Kansas, after all. Or perhaps in Prince Charming's arms...

As if to indulge her foolish fancy, a pair of warm lips found hers in a soft kiss. Her unfettered subconscious recognized those lips instantly; somehow, she was prescient to their utter sensuousness, their wine-coated decadence.

Not surprise then, but the pleasure of gratified expectation filled her. With a grateful purr, Jasmine parted her own lips in welcome. Her reward was a delicious flick of a foreign tongue against the tip of hers.

It felt so good her hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of shirt and tie in a silent demand for more. She got her encore, this time in bone-melting slow motion, followed by a lazy exploration of the inside of her upper lip.

A husky groan escaped her as her fingers, searching for bare skin to touch, trailed higher. She found a corded neck which she stroked, before cupping a nape edged with textured curls.

The bold tongue in her mouth rubbed itself against hers over and over, making her frown in pleasurable distraction. A big hand clasped her shoulder then stroked down her bare arm, awakening goosebumps that chased after it.

Another hand came up to her back, pushing forward until her soft breasts encountered a much broader chest. She gave an approving moan. A deeper moan answered her, and the masculine sound seemed to reverberate through her soft nipples, stiffening them.

A growing urgency crept into her languor. Her breath shortened as the kiss became more demanding. The entire universe was tilting - or perhaps it was she, being eased to a horizontal position.

The expanse of plush leather now at her back confirmed it. Her hands splayed over narrow sideburns, encouraging the ravaging of her willing mouth.

But the mouth above her own seemed to be retreating now; the kisses became lighter, flirtatious. Then they stopped.

Jasmine whimpered in thwarted desire and tugged at starched lapels. The sense of loss was unbearable.

"Stop that," a deep voice chuckled in her ear. "We'll fuck all night if you gotta have it this bad. Just not in front of Tiny, alright?"

Who was...? Her eyes snapped open, a sudden dread chilling her spine.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jasmine demanded in a shaken whisper.

McComb lifted his head and gazed down at her.

"Frightening and arousing you at the same time, I believe." He flicked her red cheek and grinned. "Looks like I'm right."

Jasmine gave an angry shake of her head and pulled back her hands from his chest. "It's the wine-"

"Just stop," McComb rebuked with laughing eyes. "Too late to lie about it, you're a hot little bitch. Little Teddy keep you on a tight leash?"

Her mind raced for a means to put him off. "Interested in Ted's leftovers?" Jasmine sneered.

"Well, see, I have to be at least curious," he side-stepped smoothly. "I kissed you 'cause I thought it'd been fun to watch you jump out of your skin. Imagine my surprise when you damn near swallowed me whole. Then again, I had wondered what your pretty little head was doing on my shoulder in the first place."

"I thought you were Ted!"

Actually she'd not even put a face to him. But this was an emergency and in his absence, this was how Ted could save her: her jokey pal was now her amazing, incomparable lover, eclipsing all other men, even this one.

McComb picked up her small hand, raised it to his cheek and rubbed her palm against his sideburn. His smile far too knowing, he murmured, "This feel like Ted to you?"

Jasmine held very still and said nothing. Ted, of course, had no facial hair whatsoever. As she'd been kissing McComb, she'd stroked his unfamiliar face, which would have prompted her stop if baby-faced Ted had been on her mind.

Laughing to himself, he kissed her palm then released it. "Ted's got himself a problem here."

Her face flamed at the implication that she couldn't stay faithful. Far from oversexed, she had only had one boyfriend, ever!

"I love Ted," she ground out, an icy ring of truth to her words.

"You want me," McComb parried, his eyes roaming over her flushed face, her still-panting lips.

"I don't-"

"I am 35, twice divorced and have dated a lot, you really think you can lie to me about this, of all things?" He paused, then his eyes grew dead serious. "You'd be much better off around me if you didn't happen to strike me as a liar, Jasmine. That clear?"

She gave a jerky nod of her head, her eyelashes lowering. "Yes, sir."

"And now that you're awake, I might as well tell you we're headed to my place."

"Your place?" She looked at him again in frantic worry, willing him to say she'd misheard.

His smile held no trace of guile. "You fell asleep before you gave us your address," McComb explained, then his expression turning sympathetic added, "And you've been through so much in such a short time, I couldn't bring myself to wake you. Seemed easier to let you spend the night in my guest room."

Jasmine nodded again, forcing herself to keep calm in the face of a despair that threatened to consume her. "Guest room will do fine, sir."

"Of course, my bedroom is also at your disposal," he submitted, dipping his mouth again to her cheek and throat. "The view's better, the bed's bigger, the sheets are silk..." His teeth nipped her earlobe.

"Perfect for making love," he whispered in her ear.

Incredibly, Jasmine found herself wishing they were already at his place - the sooner she could lock herself away in his guest room, the better!

"I'll manage- thanks," she stammered.

McComb lifted his head and looked at her in amusement. "You sure? I hate the thought of a guest being in distress under my roof."

The back of his hand slid down her throat, eliciting a shiver. "So if you find it too drafty over there, my bedroom door will be open. I sleep in the buff, so all you have to do is wake me."

Jasmine couldn't imagine doing anything of the sort! If she ever came upon Reggie McComb completely vulnerable for once, naked and asleep, she would... well, she would...