Jane wiped the sweat beading down on her forehead before drying her palms off on her faded blue jeans. Sipping her coffee, she tilted her head for a better angle. Her mark was a tall, burly man who was always sealed behind a wall of bodyguards.

She'd been following the charismatic gentleman for the past three days looking for holes in his defensives. He had his security in tip-top condition and always to his front, back, and sides. There was even a man by his side when he took a shit. And it's not like he needed them he was more than capable of defending himself in any situation. Jane knew she would have to create a situation to get him alone and defenseless.

Sizing up the security, the clever woman picked up her purse, "Preparing to leave." Pushing up her large breasts, she turned, walking away. A move that worked in junior high, high school, and all through college. One that never failed to get her the attention she wanted. A move she knew would help get her an invitation to the upcoming ball her mark was hosting.

Walking off without her phone, she prompted the tall brown-haired man into pushing past his line of armed guards to return her forgotten telephone, which she told him she couldn't believe she almost forgot. One thing led to another, and before he knew it, he invited her to the ball he was hosting tomorrow evening.

Accepting the invitation, Jane took the information and strutted away stuffing he information in her breast pocket. Rounding the corner, the long-legged blonde began to tremble. Her weakened knees buckled as she gripped her stomach and chest. Leaning against the side of the brick building, she thought. Could she do this? Was she capable? All sorts of things ran through her mind and then as if reset Jane stood. Her legs got tough; her will got strong, and she walked off into the afternoon, determined to carry on.

As she stepped out of her chariot the following evening, her emerald heels highlighted her well-proportioned butter milk calves. The matching dress brought all attention away from her face and directly to her round breasts. Every eye looked her up and down, all noticing that which she wanted, which was nothing at all.

She made her way around the sizable Victorian era ballroom batting her long thick eyelashes at only the most prestigious men. Her baby blues told her early on this was the way to get the full-blown attention of her intended target. Not only did it let him know she was there, but it let him know how desired and particular she was. Even though she had already settled on him, she wanted him to work to win her.

As he parted her from the crowd, she ran her hands up and down his burly biceps. Her sugar-filled tongue helped to part him from his reluctant wall of security until the pair found themselves alone in a private bedroom.

The marked man dove into his prize, thrusting in tune with his partner, who moaned and groaned in mounting pleasure. Jane enjoyed the touch of his skin, the heat of his body. Together they wailed coming to their climax.

Catching her breath, Jane kissed him gently. Planting her feet on the soft white carpet, she picked up her dress, shoes, and purse and headed to the bathroom. As her company spread out content and pleased with himself, Jane pulled out her piece, attaching a silencer. Taking a deep breath, she brushed her dress out and slipped on her shoes. She could hear him rustling now. If she was going to do this, it was going to have to be now.

Opening the door, she sprang out firing. Blood poured from the tall, well-built man as he bled out on the white satin sheets, which now changed to red. She couldn't take her eyes off him as he gasped his last breath with open and frightened eyes. Noticing how helpless he seemed pleased Jane more than she thought it would; more then she could have ever believed it could. With the light in his eyes gone, she turned to check her makeup in the hall mirror. Smiling, she heading out the back way knowing today was the day she was an official hitwoman.