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Accidental Villainy 54
🕑 Added 2024-03-02 03:58:01 +0000 UTCEngineering that encounter proved easier than I expected. She was in a cafe on the second floor of a cafe, one that overlooked the road, which was not too far away from an intersection with a traffic light. I timed my approach to arrive there while it was red light, which gave me an excuse to raise my visor of the helmet as I looked around lazily, and ‘noticed’ her presence and waved at her.
Ten full seconds after she had seen me, giving me a chance to hide.
It was a deliberate choice. As much as I wanted to engineer an accidental encounter with her — and more — considering her power, forcing that encounter into her was too much of a risk. I wanted her to be merely off-balance, not panicking.
It was never a good idea to push someone who saw throwing buildings as a measured response.
Still, I was happy to see that she hadn’t taken the chance to hide. Instead, her expression went through several phases, each I read — with my power in full overdrive.
She was shocked at first, which was inevitable, but that lasted barely a second, showing that, as a heroine, she was used to reacting fast. The truly interesting part was what followed. I expected a serious, thoughtful expression, a professional assessment of the risk I represented as she wondered whether it was just as accidental as it looked.
A flash of surprise was followed by a coy smile and several unconscious signs of sexual attraction. Flushing off her neck and ears, her suddenly diluting eyes, parting lips … the whole nine yards. Even her nipples hardened, but the only reason I noticed that despite her bra blocking was my power.
However, I didn’t need my power to notice her hurriedly unbuttoning her blouse quite a bit and fixing her hair rapidly in an effort to add some sexiness to her casual morning outfit.
Promising.
Once I waved her, she acted like she didn’t notice me for a second, then ‘noticed’ me with the fakest possible expression of surprise. She was a better actress in our previous encounter. I smiled even larger, parked my bike, and went into the cafe, making no attempt to ask her permission.
I had been already dressed as the bad boy, now I just needed to play the part.
She was more receptive than I expected, but maybe I shouldn’t have been too surprised. Last night, she had gone far more than what was necessary for her mission. Some part of it was about my seduction, but her bad boy kink was not particularly well-hidden.
She wasn’t the first girl I met with such a fetish. I had seen many of them while I worked as a bartender before I received my Power, rich and poor alike, all excited by the aura of danger surrounding the gang members and henchmen, throwing themselves in men they wouldn’t have otherwise interested in chasing that high, and ruining their life in the process.
Ironically, her current situation was the perfect opportunity to enjoy her not-so-unique preference. Her role required her to play the role of the warped damsel, but her power was more than enough to protect her from the inevitable downfall of that path.
Well, maybe. She didn’t know she was dealing with a bad boy with a superpower, after all.
When I arrived at the second floor, she was still waiting for me, but with several changes. To start, her expression of shock and hesitance was better, showing that while she was a decent actress — nowhere near enough to trick my power, but still — she required some time to get used to the role, which could be useful.
The more interesting change was her looks. Her blouse had already been unbuttoned earlier, but she decided to be generous and unlock another one, turning what was initially a modest piece that someone might throw on for a casual breakfast to fit with her casual sweatpants, but turned into something spectacular.
Well, the body underneath was spectacular, which was easier to see without her bra. She had removed it while I had been climbing the stairs. A good choice, as I could see it poking from the cushions of her seat — she didn’t have a bag to stuff it — and it was a boring, functional piece that would have ruined the show.
Her gravity-defying breasts were better off without its unwelcome help.
“Oh, what a nice surprise,” I said even as I approached her table, pulled a chair, and sat across her, all without asking for permission. Admittedly, I was also tempted to just kiss her, but her tenseness ramped once I leaned too far while pulling the chair forward, so I decided to ignore that temptation, no matter how tempting were her lips.
I might have kissed her before — while doing much more — but that was only after a very long game of two truths and a lie while she had been dressed skimpily, her arousal slowly ramping up. And right now, while her blouse trick showed that she was enthusiastic about what was about to arrive, that didn’t mean she was ready to jump the deep end.
She wanted to be seduced. Not the classical way like flowers and serenades, but instead by possessive behavior and displays of illegal power, but the principles were the same. Start slow, show confidence, display interest in a selective way that highlighted the qualities she wanted to push; and, most importantly, always follow the non-verbal clues correctly.
Naturally all while maintaining our roles: for me, a bad boy with several minor illegal dealings and excessive confidence; for her, a bored rich girl with precious little understanding of how the real world worked.
“I — I don’t remember inviting you,” she stammered. A bit excessive, but well-played.
“Too bad,” I replied with a dark smile, not making a move.
“How dare you?” she gasped, doing her best to look angry, but as she moved her arm, her cleavage parted to enhance her cleavage even more, showing that she just wanted an opportunity to almost flash me.
I didn’t miss that her shirt didn’t move as it was supposed to, stopping just before it revealed something important as something solid appeared inside for a fleeting moment. She had used a small force field to keep the moment tantalizing rather than revealing.
Impressive.
I leaned forward. “Oh, sweetie. After our dance, you should have a better idea about how much I can dare,” I replied, leaning forward like I was about to kiss her. She tensed, a real reaction. Luckily, I wasn’t planning to kiss her. Instead, I picked one of the pastries from her table and took a bite.
She might have not wanted that kiss, at least at that exact moment, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed being ignored in favor of a piece of breakfast food.
Particularly since it was subpar breakfast food.
One big disadvantage of my new power, I became far pickier when it came to my food.
Still, it was a good opportunity as any. I let my face scrunch in annoyance as I put the half-eaten pastry back, right on top of her food. “Hey, don’t put your half-bitten food on top of mine. I’m still eating.”
I could have said that it was too late to worry about that, which would be true but stupid — trying to reason over what was disgusting or not was hardly a good date talk. Instead, I leaned forward and grabbed her wrist.
“No, you’re not,” I said, doing my best domineering delivery. Thanks to Tara, I practiced that a lot. “You deserve much better,” I added, with just enough fascination to turn that into a compliment.
Her eyes widened in pleasure at the compliment despite its bare-bones nature.
That was the biggest advantage of the bad-boy persona. Among all the sharp edges and thorns, even the slightest compliment had been received incredibly well, just like a momentary cold breeze on a hot summer day.
It was effective enough that she obediently followed when I pulled her onto her feet. “W-wait, I have to pay,” she said. I didn’t say anything, but pulled a large stack of cash and threw three hundred dollars there dismissively.
Her eyes widened. It was another simple yet effective trick. During the dance, she had reacted well when I used the excuse to tip her, implying some cash flow issues… and, even without it, no girl complained about their paramour being too rich or generous.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she followed me rather than pulling her wrist out of my grip like she was capable of.
“I know a dive with the most amazing breakfast you’ll ever eat,” I said, which was true. The place was quite a distance away, and it was outside the city, and I didn’t want to risk it.
She said nothing as she obediently followed me. There was another benefit to dragging her out. It allowed me to take her pulse, which was an excellent way to measure her excitement. She only spoke when she noticed there was no helmet.
“How are we—” she started, and gasped when I passed her the helmet. “You can’t drive without it, you won’t be able to see.”
“There’s a shop nearby, we’ll make a stop there,” I said. “And, until there, it would be very exciting.”
I jumped to my seat, and she followed immediately, hugging me from behind, the contact replacing her earlier grip, still allowing me to take her mood, which I planned to use to optimize the trip into the perfect joyride.
I drove off…
