Mia rolled her eyes, then suddenly seemed to realize something.
"Lawson, you weren't trying to scare me on purpose, were you? That kind of pickup game is totally out of style now!"
Lawson raised an eyebrow. He knew Mia had misunderstood, but it wasn't exactly a situation he could easily explain.
He couldn't exactly say he thought someone was spying on them, could he?
That would just make him look paranoid and uncool.
So, Lawson decided to roll with it.
"Well then, Professor Mia, maybe you could teach me the proper way to hit on the beautiful Ms. Mia?"
Mia instantly beamed with joy.
Again, compliments are important, but who is giving the compliment is equally important.
Lawson calling Mia beautiful hit way different than a homeless guy calling her beautiful.
"Ahem! Well, leave me your number, and maybe I'll give you a lesson sometime!"
"That sounds wonderful, Professor Mia!"
Laughing and chatting, Mia pulled up to the front of Sangiovese. Lawson's Dodge Viper was parked right nearby.
After exchanging numbers, Lawson said goodbye to Mia.
Back in his Viper, Lawson first checked the Payday app on his phone. Sure enough, there was a new gig.
[New Job: Hot Pursuit]
[Difficulty: ☆☆☆]
[Primary Objective: Complete the underground street race]
[Bonus Objective 1: Give opponents a 20-second head start]
[Bonus Objective 2: Win 1st Place]
[Current Status: Preparation Phase]
[Purchasable Intel: 2 items]
It really was a new gig! And a 3-Star one at that!
Dom was a real one. Coming through with a new job after just a few days.
The name of the gig was interesting, too. It seemed to hint at the nature of the race.
If Lawson remembered correctly, the Need for Speed franchise he played in his past life had a subtitle called "Hot Pursuit."
That subtitle meant the game mode was entirely focused on cops using various tactics to intercept racers, and in some modes, you could even use weapons and gadgets.
Was this underground street race going to be like that?
Lawson glanced at the purchasable intel and paid for it without hesitation.
Cash -$20,000!
[Intel 1: The LAPD is already aware of the underground street race and is fully prepared.]
[Intel 2: Attorney Francis Ricci plans to use the race to eliminate his rival.]
Just as he thought, the LAPD was going to crash the race, and based on the intel, they were bringing heavy ordinance.
So the real difficulty of this race wasn't the other drivers, it was the cops. After all, if you get busted, you definitely aren't finishing the race.
As for Intel 2, that left Lawson a bit confused.
Was this Francis Ricci the one who leaked the race to the cops?
Trying to use the ensuing chaos to kill his rival and wash his hands of the suspicion?
The System wouldn't give him this intel for no reason. It definitely involved a critical factor in the race.
Lawson thought about it for a second, then decided to head back into Sangiovese to buy Francis Ricci's file from Svafa.
It was already 2 AM, and Sangiovese was closing up. The bar was practically empty, save for a few completely wasted patrons.
Some of the staff had already started cleaning up.
Under these circumstances, Svafa obviously wasn't going to be sitting at the bar.
So, Lawson used his old trick, finding the same bartender and slipping him a $100 bill to pass a message.
The bartender looked at Lawson with a very weird expression, clearly thinking, "Why is it always you?"
A few minutes later, Lawson successfully bypassed the main floor and navigated the familiar halls to Svafa's office.
"Little Lawson, what is it this time?"
Svafa was sitting at her vanity, removing her makeup, clearly getting ready for bed.
This surprised Lawson. Most women never let outsiders see them without makeup, even though Svafa was still stunningly beautiful bare-faced.
But makeup is a woman's primary weapon. Without it, her combat effectiveness usually takes a major hit.
"Ms. Svafa, I'd like to buy some intel."
"Buying intel again? Little Lawson, you really are a busy man!"
"Can't help it. It's not easy making a living in America."
"Is that right? Little Lawson, I actually have a path right here that can make your life very easy. Want to try it?"
Svafa looked up at Lawson, licking her lips.
Hiss! You definitely don't want to walk that path!
"Cough! Ms. Svafa, I have a massive appetite. I'm looking to do more than just make a living."
"Fine. Tell me who you're looking for."
"Francis Ricci. I need his file."
Hearing that name, Svafa suddenly frowned.
"Francis Ricci? Got any other details?"
There are plenty of people with the same first and last name in America. Without specifics, she might pull the wrong file.
"He's a lawyer. But I don't know which firm he works for."
"Lawson, as far as I know, there's only one lawyer in LA named Francis Ricci."
Svafa crossed her arms, which only accentuated her top-heavy advantage.
"Sounds like he's a big shot?"
"Not a major player, but he definitely has some juice. At least, he's no threat to me. Why do you want his intel?"
"That's my secret! Ms. Svafa, what's the price..."
"A hundred grand. Bring me $100,000, and you'll have his file tomorrow."
Hiss! That was double the price of David Abbott's file!
"That expensive?"
"Of course! Francis Ricci isn't a nobody. A hundred grand is the discounted price, just for you."
Saying that, Svafa stood up and walked over to Lawson, resting her soft hand on his shoulder.
Lawson could clearly feel calluses on the webbing between her thumb and index finger, the sides of her index finger, and the palm of her non-dominant hand. These were classic signs of someone who frequently handled firearms.
Actual firearms, don't get any dirty ideas!
"Little Lawson, if you don't have that much cash, you can always pay in other ways!"
"Cough! Ms. Svafa, I can handle the hundred grand, but I expect the intel to be worth the price!"
Even though she was making money, Svafa looked visibly annoyed. She clearly wanted a different kind of payment.
"You brat, is there something wrong with your equipment, or do you just play for the other team? I'm practically throwing myself at you, and you still say no!"
As she spoke, Svafa reached straight down, seemingly intent on verifying if Lawson's equipment was functional.
That grab instantly caused a massive problem, directly awakening the slumbering Eastern Dragon!
Svafa's hand shot straight down, bold and unapologetic, cupping the thick, heavy bulge that had been straining against Lawson's tailored pants the entire conversation. Her palm pressed firmly, fingers curling around the massive outline, and she froze.
"Oh… fuck," she breathed, voice dropping into a husky growl. Her ice-blue eyes flew wide, pupils blowing out with raw, predatory hunger. "Little Lawson… what the hell is this?"
The "Eastern Dragon" surged to life under her touch—thickening, hardening, lengthening until it throbbed angrily against her fingers like a steel bar wrapped in velvet heat. Even through the fabric she could feel the sheer girth, the heavy pulse, the way it pulsed hotter the longer she held it. Her thighs clenched involuntarily, a fresh rush of slick heat soaking her lace panties.
Lawson stayed perfectly still, hands loose at his sides, breathing steady. Three No's. No initiating. No rejecting. No taking responsibility. But his cock didn't give a fuck about rules—it just kept swelling, pushing insistently into her palm like it wanted to tear straight through the zipper and claim her right there.
Svafa licked her lips, slow and filthy, squeezing harder. "You've been hiding this monster the whole time? While I've been throwing myself at you like a desperate slut?" She gave him a slow, deliberate stroke through the cloth, feeling every thick inch, every vein. "Goddamn, baby… I thought I was just teasing a pretty boy. This… this is a weapon."
She didn't wait for permission. Her free hand yanked his belt open with a metallic clink, ripped the zipper down, and shoved his pants and boxers low enough for his cock to spring free—fat, veined, and rock-hard, the swollen head already glistening with a fat bead of pre-cum that made her mouth water.
"Jesus Christ," she whispered reverently, wrapping both hands around the throbbing shaft. Even with both palms stacked she couldn't close her fingers all the way around it. The weight, the heat, the way it jumped in her grip when she squeezed—Svafa's pussy clenched so hard she whimpered. "Look at you… so fucking thick. So long. I can barely hold it. And you're still growing for me."
She dropped to her knees right there on the plush office carpet, massive G-cup tits spilling out of her half-open silk robe as she leaned in. Her hot, wet tongue dragged slowly from his heavy balls all the way up the underside of his shaft, swirling around the fat crown and licking up that shiny drop of pre-cum like it was the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted.
"Mmmph—fuck, you taste good," she moaned, blue eyes locked on his as she opened wide and took him in. Her lips stretched obscenely around his girth, cheeks hollowing as she sucked hard, tongue working the sensitive underside while her hands twisted and stroked what her mouth couldn't swallow yet. Saliva already dripped down her chin, soaking her tits, making them shine.
Lawson's hand slid into her thick Nordic waves—not forcing, just holding—while she bobbed deeper, gagging herself on his cock until her nose brushed his abs and her throat squeezed around him like a velvet fist. Wet, filthy gluck-gluck-gluck sounds filled the office as she deepthroated him like a woman possessed, mascara already starting to run from the effort.
She pulled off with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting her swollen lips to his glistening cock. "You're gonna ruin me with this thing," she panted, voice wrecked, then dove back down—sloppier, hungrier, choking herself on him while her free hand reached between her own thighs to rub her soaked pussy.
Lawson finally moved.
He grabbed her by the hair, pulled her off his cock with a lewd pop, and hauled her up like she weighed nothing. Svafa gasped, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he spun and slammed her ass down on the edge of her desk. Papers scattered. The whiskey bottle wobbled but didn't fall.
"You started this war, Ms. Svafa," he growled, voice low and dangerous, the Joker card humming in his veins. "I decide when it ends."
He shoved her robe open, baring those massive, perfect tits completely—pale, heavy, nipples stiff and begging. He latched onto one, sucking hard, teeth grazing the sensitive peak while he lined his fat cock up with her dripping entrance. One brutal thrust and he buried every inch inside her in a single stroke.
"FUUUUCK—!" Svafa screamed, back arching, nails raking down his back. Her walls clamped down like a vice, fluttering and rippling around his impossible thickness. "Too big—oh god, you're splitting me—yes, fuck, deeper!"
Lawson didn't hold back. He fucked her like he owned her—hard, deep, relentless—each thrust slamming the desk against the wall, her huge tits bouncing wildly. The wet slap-slap-slap of skin on skin mixed with her broken moans and the obscene squelch of her soaked pussy taking every inch.
He flipped her over, bent her over the desk, and took her from behind—pounding so deep his balls slapped her clit with every stroke. Svafa came hard the first time, screaming his name, pussy gushing around him, legs shaking.
He didn't stop.
Second orgasm hit her while he had her riding him in the chair—her massive tits smothering his face as she bounced desperately, grinding her clit against his pelvis. He sucked bruises into her soft flesh, fingers digging into her ass, guiding her faster until she shattered again, milking him with rhythmic spasms.
Third time he had her on her back on the desk, legs over his shoulders, folding her in half and railing her so deep she swore she could feel him in her throat. Sweat poured down her body, mascara ruined, blonde hair a wild mess, voice hoarse from screaming.
"Lawson—please—I can't—too much—I'm gonna—ahhh fuck I'm coming again—!"
He finally let go, burying himself to the hilt and flooding her clenching pussy with thick, hot ropes of cum—pulse after pulse until it overflowed, dripping down her ass and onto the desk in creamy white streaks.
Svafa lay there panting, completely wrecked—tits heaving, thighs trembling, pussy still fluttering around his spent but still-hard cock. She looked up at him with glassy, fucked-out eyes and a dazed, satisfied smile.
"You… you absolute brat," she whispered, voice raw. "I thought I was going to break you…"
Lawson smirked, still buried deep inside her, and gave one lazy thrust that made her whimper.
"File's on the desk, right?" he asked innocently, thumb brushing her swollen clit. "Or do you need me to convince you again?"
Svafa's laugh came out broken and breathless. She clenched around him one last time, already feeling him harden again inside her.
"…Round four starts in two minutes, handsome. And this time I'm not walking out of here until you've ruined me completely."
She pulled him down into a messy, desperate kiss, already rocking her hips again—ready for whatever Dragon had left.