Crash Into Me

Kelly Ashton smiled seductively across the desk at the handsome middle-aged man sitting in the high backed leather chair. He smiled nervously back as he whispered into the receiver in his hand.

"Love you too, hon. Gotta run, ok? Customer..." he said, keeping his voice as low as possible. Kelly knew from the expression on his face that he was talking to his wife, and he obviously didn't want Kelly to know. She crossed her long, shapely legs and tilted her head to one side as she stared at him.

"Well, Ms. Ashton..." he began.

"Miss...." she corrected. "Miss Ashton."

"Ah. Sorry. Miss Ashton. Your credit is perfect, and with your trade-in, you'll be financing just over $32,000. Now, let's just fill out this forms, and we'll get you into that new car," he said, fumbling through the papers on his desk. "Well... let's see... what is your place of employment?"

"Self-employed," Kelly said, raising an eyebrow. The salesman's eyes grew a little wider and he glanced around the room, trying his best to avoid looking at her legs.

"Yes, well... um..." he stammered. "You're self employed. We'll have to verify your bank account balance for the past 6 months. That shouldn't take too long. Exactly what do you do?"

"I'm in sales," she said, uncrossing, then recrossing her legs.

"Oh... Ok," he said, looking back down at the paperwork on his desk. His hands were trembling. He called Kelly's bank and verified that she had over $80,000 in her savings account, and the balance hadn't dropped below that in the past year. He smiled up at her as he hung up the phone.

"Well... I guess you've just bought yourself a new car," he chuckled. "Well, come with me, and we'll get the keys. The boys should be finished detailing it by now."

"Thank you, Frank. You don't mind of I call you Frank, do you?" she said softly.

"Oh... uh.. no. No problem. Call me whatever you want," he laughed nervously. Kelly stood to follow him and he breathed a visible sigh of appreciation. Her long, curly auburn hair, with it's golden blonde highlights shone in the late fall sunlight. She had the most amazing body Frank Giardina had ever seen. She was at least 5'8, thin without being skinny, perfect C-cup breasts, which were obviously real, and the clearest, creamiest tanned skin he had ever seen. Unlike most redheads, there was not a single freckle that he could see. Her long legs were trim and toned. She wore a beautifully tailored gray pinstriped Anne Taylor suit, with one of the shortest skirts Frank could imagine. But with those legs... God those incredible legs... she could pull it off. The high-heeled Prada shoes she wore accentuated the muscles in her calves, and made all the other salesmen in the showroom sit up and take notice. When she entered the room, men couldn't help but notice her. She knew it. And she loved it...

"Well, Miss Ashton, here you go," Frank said, handing her the keys to the brand new, arctic silver convertible Porsche Boxster S. Kelly took them from his hand, allowing her fingers to brush against his as she did. Frank felt a shiver travel through his entire body as Kelly smiled at him. She pulled her sunglasses out of her purse and put them on. As she slid into the leather seat of her new car, she handed Frank her card.

"Call me sometime, Frank. Maybe we can do business," Kelly said, smirking. She started the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot.

**********************

As she cruised down Peachtree Road in Atlanta, the wind blew through her hair, and she turned the radio up. Traffic was getting heavy, and she came to a stop behind a long line of cars. She glanced in the rear view mirror and saw that she needed touch up her lipstick. She reached over into her purse to take out the black cylinder of MAC X-treme lipstick, and began to apply it to her perfect lips. Suddenly, she felt a big bump from behind, and she smeared lipstick onto her cheek.

"What the FUCK?" she exclaimed. She looked behind her and saw that an SUV had hit her from behind. She quickly got out of the car to survey the damage. She stomped back to the back of the car and looked at her ruined rear bumper. She marched over to the driver's window of the SUV and tapped on the dark tinted glass. She could barely make out the figure inside.

"Excuse me!" she yelled. "But would you mind getting the hell out of your car please?"

The window rolled down, and she saw the guy talking on his cell phone. He had spiky bleached blonde hair, sunglasses, weird facial hair, and lots of tattoos.

Oh great, she thought. This guy probably stole this fucking car, and now he's gonna jump out and kill me or something. She walked back to her car and leaned against the door, waiting for the police to show up. The guy got out of the SUV and walked over to her.

"Are you ok?" he asked. His voice was sexy. Raspy and low.

"I'm fine. But damned if you didn't ruin my fucking car!" she screamed at him. "I just bought this car, and it's RUINED!"

The guy smiled a little, obviously not intimidated by her. "I do have insurance," he said, laughing a little.

"I don't give a shit if you own a fucking insurance company!" she yelled. "You RUINED my car!"

"It's not ruined," he said, looking at the damage. "New bumper, little body work to the back, and it'll be as good as new."

"IT IS NEW! I just left the dealership! It's got 8 motherfucking miles on it!" Kelly screamed.

"Calm down," the guy chuckled. "At least you're not hurt." He checked her out as she stood, pouting, against the car door. She was hot. REALLY hot. Her red hair was gorgeous. And her body was to die for...

Finally, the police showed up, and began taking the information from both drivers.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" the officer asked.

"I'm fine," she replied, sighing. "Just pissed."

"That's understandable," the officer laughed. "Sir, can I see your license, registration, and insurance card please?" The man pulled out his paperwork and handed it to the officer. He took down the information, then took down Kelly's.

"Ok, Ms. Ashton, you can go," the officer said. "Here's the information you'll need to get your accident report." The officer handed her a card with the case number and the man's name and insurance infomation.

"Thank you," Kelly said, shaking her head. She looked at the card. Alexander McLean... that was name of the asshole who hit her. She got back into her car and headed home. She had a date that night, and she couldn't be late.

***********************

Kelly stood in front o f her full length mirror, clad only her matching black satin Victoria's Secret bra and panties set. She surveyed her body. Not bad, she thought. She ran her hand over her firm, yet soft stomach, then walked to her closet to pick out an outfit suitable for her date. She picked a tiny black Versace dress and pulled it on. She pulled her long, auburn hair up, allowing a few curls to fall down loosely. She put on her best 3-strand pearl and diamond choker and bracelet set, then slipped her high-heeled shoes on. No hose were necessary. She looked in the mirror. Nice, she thought. She rubbed the back of her neck, which was beginning to get sore from the accident earlier that day. Damn that guy. What the hell was he thinking? Running into the back of her car? Ugh... Thankfully, she wouldn't be driving her wrecked car that night. Her date would be driving.

The phone rang and she walked over to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hi... um... Kelly?" the male voice asked.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"This is AJ McLean," the man said.

Kelly scanned her brain, trying to figure out who AJ McLean was. He wasn't one of her usual customers. AJ McLean...

"AJ... you know, the guy who hit you this afternoon," he said, laughing slightly. Suddenly it came to her. Alexander McLean was AJ. She sighed heavily into the receiver.

"What can I do for you, Mr. McLean?" she asked, sounding a little irritated. She was still pissed about her car.

"I was just making sure you were ok," he said sweetly. "I hit you pretty hard, and I wanted to be sure you weren't hurt."

"Listen, I said I was fine, and I am. Just a little sore. Nothing that a few days won't cure," she said. "Now, I'm in a real hurry, so I've got to go."

"Oh. Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt anything. Listen, if you need any information from me, just call me, ok? I'm staying with a friend in Dunwoody. I'll give you his number if you want," AJ said, really not wanting to get off the phone with her. He wanted to ask her out. But she sounded like she was still sort of pissed.

Kelly sighed. She didn't want the guys number. She didn't want to ever see him or hear from him again, actually. But... if it would make him let her off the phone... "Ok, go ahead," she said, sounding exasperated.

"Great. The number is 770-297-9863," AJ said, feeling a little relieved that she actually let him give her the number. He hoped Brian and Leigh didn't mind.

"Alright. I've got it. Now I really need to go," she said, sighing into the receiver.

"Ok. Well, I hope you don't get too sore," he said, smiling on his end.

"Goodbye, AJ," she said, hanging up.

There was a knock at the door, and she sauntered over to answer it. When she opened it, the nice looking man on the other side, smiled brightly.

"Hi Kelly. You look fantastic," he said, kissing her cheek. She ushered him into her plush apartment and they walked to the bar.

"Thanks, Randall. Would you care for a drink?" she asked. She poured herself a glass of champagne. Cristal, of course.

"No. We're running late for the opera. We've got box seats tonight, darling," he said, taking out his wallet. "Is it still $4000?"

"Of course," she said, sipping her glass of champagne.

Randall pulled out $4000 cash and placed it on the marble countertop of the bar. Kelly smiled as she picked it up and put it into her purse.

"Ready to go, sweetheart?" he asked, holding out his arm. She draped her hand over his arm and they made their way out into the night.

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