"Gonna get me some pictures, oh yeah!" The car slipped easily into the valet lane. A limo was pulling away with an irate driver that Martin failed to notice. He had been staring at the blonde's statuesque figure for the past few seconds, marveling at how she seemed to grow larger as he got closer, when he suddenly remembered about the camera.

  He fumbled for it, knowing he had only a few precious moments to snap a picture before he was too close to get her whole, glorious body into the shot. The wheel turned as it slipped from his hands and he scurried to correct his course, pulling up to the curb perfectly through the apparent grace of god. The camera was whirring as it advanced to the next picture. Martin didn't know if he had taken a good one or not and he wouldn't have the chance to do it again.

  She was standing next to the door, her toned thighs peeking over the door through the window that was rolled halfway down.

  "Please get out of my car so I can leave."

  Martin glanced up; he had difficulty seeing the scowl on her face past her huge breasts. He giggled, trying to conceal his device. Her body jolted as she stamped a long and slender foot on the ground.

  "What the hell do you have there? Is that a camera you pervert!?!"

  She threw open the door, it creaked heavily as the hinges stretched against the car frame from her strength, and grabbed him by the ruffles on his puffy pirate shirt collar. Without much effort, Martin was lifted to his feet where he had another full frontal view of her magnificent chest.

  The blonde plucked the camera out of his hand and, with a quick jerk, tore the back off of it, exposing the negative. The demolition completed, she let the plastic and metal pieces fall from her hands and clatter to the pavement.

  Martin smirked and bent over in a wide arc as he went to pick them up, deliberately hitting his forehead against the wide expanse of her left breast on his descent. He giggled like an infant as he slowly picked up the pieces and glanced occasionally at her feet.

  She was wearing the complimentary flip-flops that housekeeping left for the more elite patrons. They were a pair of the men's shoes and quite large even around her good sized toes.

  He knew she was fuming above him; but what could she do? The worst thing would be to not give him a tip.

  Big whoop.

  Martin could hear her shuffling about, in rage most likely. He thought he also heard something else; it was reminiscent of a long length of hemp rope being pulled tight or stretched over a relatively rough surface, maybe even a light creaking of wood.

  Hmm...

  Now that he looked at them again, her feet fit fairly well in those slippers; maybe they were a little too small as he noticed that her smooth heels tipped over the back of the thin bases. He stood up slowly, being ready to bump his head one more time.

  To Martin's amazement, he didn't. As he stood up straight, instead of getting another nice view of the chest, he was staring at the hard, flat stomach of a hard-working fitness instructor.

  What the...?

  He followed her body upwards and his eyes grew wide.

  She looked so much stronger, now that she was over a foot and a half taller. He had to admit, her bikini top fit a whole let nicer now. But he didn't have the option of looking at it for long as he cringed when he saw the look on her face.

  She was pissed.

  Oh was she pissed.

  Though he didn't have to worry about that for long either as he quickly doubled over after she accosted him with a solid fist that she rammed into his soft stomach. The air burned in Martin's lungs; he could barely see the torn sides of her tight, jean shorts through the bursts of white stars that danced in his dimming vision. He didn't even see the fist that connected with his chin, and it lifted him a few inches into the air.

  Still on his feet, Martin swayed gently. He was too tired to open his eyes, but he knew it was something that needed to be done. With tremendous effort, he raised his seemingly lead-lined lids up just a tiny bit. He tilted his head at the awesome sight of her and drifted away in mild wonder.

  How can she lift her leg that high?

-     -     -

  The roundhouse kick had knocked the valet to the ground. She had connected with the eye-socket that had not been covered with an eye patch. It could use one, now that it was beginning to swell up with a deep shade of purple.

  "Asshole."

  She walked over to her convertible.

  It had been a few weeks since she had had to make a spin kick like that and it she was pleased with herself in doing one so easily without stretching first.

  She grabbed hold of the front seat, braced herself against the door, and wrenched it away from its foundations; it came loose with a wild popping as the metal springs broke apart, spraying bent screws across the sidewalk. She threw it on top of the valet's shuddering form.

  He would be unconscious for a while.

  After brushing a stray blonde hair from her face, she sat down in the cold leather of the rear passenger seat and stretched her feet to the pedals far in front of her. The car tilted slightly under her weight.

  Her tan legs, probably well over four feet long each now, shined under the Las Vegas sun. She wiggled her toes and felt the gold band that lovingly hugged one of them as she smiled. Her long fingers wrapped around the rearview mirror as she tried to adjust it and it quickly broke off at the base of it's stem. She studied it for a moment, shrugged, than tossed it out the door as her smile broadened a notch.

  "This is turning out to be a pretty good day."

  With a light turn of the ignition, the eight cylinders of the engine roared into life.

  Las Vegas Boulevard was crowded with it's morning gamblers, but she pulled onto a deserted side street and made an unnoticed exit out of the gleaming city.

-     -     -

  Kim blinked as she stared at her cheerful reflection in the mirror. She raised herself on her tiptoes and leaned forward to get better look.

  It was not the better look she had hoped for. She sighed.

  Warm water began to pour out of the faucet and steam drifted out of the sink to cling to anything it could find. The counter was littered with a number of beauty products that didn't belong to her. All she wanted was a Biorre pore strip and it seemed she was going to be utterly disappointed.

  Kim hadn't meant to fall asleep at the hotel room last night, but she was having such a good time that she just couldn't leave.

  There was nothing she could do in here.

  "Damn hotels," she shrugged. "It may be one of the best ones they have, but it's still a hotel room."

  Off in another room, Kim heard the distinct beeping of an electronic phone. She jumped to a nearby wall and picked up the receiver that was hanging there just as it started to ring. The rest of the hotel room remained quiet and and she breathed a sigh of relief as she brought the headset to her ear.

  "Hello?"

  "Hi, is this Kim?"

  "Uh," Kim wrinkled her nose in disgust, "hey Reeve."

  "What are you doing over there? Don't you have a home to go to?"

  "Nikki needed a friend's shoulder to cry on, Reeve," Kim could feel him cringe at the sarcastic emphasis she placed on his name. "And that's no thanks to you; you ungrateful bastard."

  "Don't take that tone with me woman! Nikki is my wife and what goes between us is our business and our business alone."

  Kim pulled the receiver away from her ear for a moment and looked at it with disdain; she shook her head as she spoke into it again.

  "Don't you think you deal with too much business as it is? It's your work that's a problem. It's tough enough that you barely spend any time with her, let alone give her any attention whatsoever. And now you call the problems between you 'business'?"

  Reeve huffed. Kim just laughed.

  "Take a sensitivity course, Reeve. You have enough money from your 'business,' why not visit a couple of seminars on the subject?"

  "I don't have to listen to this crap. Put Nikki on the phone."

  "That's not such a good idea, Reeve. The little woman is asleep right now and you're not important enough for me to disturb her for."

  "Asleep? It's five o'clock in the afternoon!"

  "We just had a really good night last night and I'm afraid she's still tuckered out."

  "Bullshit! Don't toy with me Kim. You know I can make your life an unmanageable, financial hell if I wanted to. Now, why don't you be a good little girl and go wake up my wife before I pull in a favor from my guys with TRW."

  "I don't think so, Reeve; not this time. You've pushed around Nikki long enough and she's not going to take it anymore."

  "Oh yeah? Since when does your opinion carry any weight with anyone?"

  "You can't intimidate me this time, Reeve. I don't think you'll be able to intimidate either of us anymore."

  "Ahh, little Kimmy finally grow a backbone? I'm afraid it doesn't matter. You see, my words actually carry weight, especially in this town. What are you going to do? Sic one of those loser pool boys of yours on me?"

  Kim grimaced as Reeve laughed in a hollow tone from the other end of the phone.

  "I can't tell you how scared I am Kim; I just don't think the security at any of my four hotels would be enough to stop a man like that."

  "Laugh and mock all you want, Reeve. It's still not going to get you what you want today."

  "PUT MY WIFE ON THE, GOD-DAMNED, PHONE!"

  Kim almost dropped the phone out of shock; her body gave a quick tremble as a sudden rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  "I've had about as much of you as I can stand, Reeve. Take a chill pill and I might consider letting you talk to her in a while." Kim began to hang up the phone; she could hear his irate voice screaming out from the other line. It clicked out of existence when she set the receiver on it's hook.

  Kim smiled to herself; she took one last look at her face in the mirror and turned to walk into the living room.

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