Читать книгу The Pleasure Palace - Evangeline Anderson - Страница 6

Shaina McCullough sat staring in disbelief at Chief Hamilton, trying to process what he was saying. Ty would be the slave and she would be the Master? By the almost comical look on Ty’s face, he was surprised as well. She supposed that she could have accused him of being a sexist porcine for just assuming that he would be playing the Master, but then, she had assumed it as well. From the very first day she’d met him, Brent Tyson had always had the upper hand in their relationship. He had always been the mentor, the senior partner, the seasoned veteran to her green rookie. He was always dominant, and the heat in those golden eyes had been making her nervous from the first moment they met. Despite her speech to him the night before about being equal coworkers, Shaina had known in her heart it wasn’t true. Now here was a chance to not only be equal but to be superior—to be his Master, no less. Or would that be Mistress?

Shaina felt a grin of pure anticipation begin to spread over her face. She had never been so glad she’d volunteered for anything in her life! Meanwhile, Ty looked like he’d been eating unripe nare fruit.

“Maybe this is more than you bargained for when you came barging in here. Would you like to back out, Ty?” she asked sweetly, casting a “lactose spread wouldn’t melt in my mouth” smile his way.

Tyson cleared his throat and shook his head. “No.” He met her look with a smoldering one of his own. “If you’re going, McCullough, then I’m going too.” There was something in those hot amber eyes that made Shaina’s smile falter just a bit, something hungry and almost animalistic—D’Lonian. Getting the upper hand over Brent Tyson wouldn’t be accomplished just by slipping a pain-inducing slave collar on his neck, she thought uneasily. There was apt to be quite a bit more to it than that…

“Of course, the Chancellor is sparing no expense to equip and prepare you thoroughly. Your every possible need is being anticipated.” With those words, Minister Waynos broke up the silent staring contest Shaina had been about to lose. He was a funny little man, Shaina reflected, but he seemed utterly devoted to the Chancellor, that was certain.

“What can we possibly need other than a ship, the right costumes, and enough credits to make the scenario plausible?” Ty looked at the Minister with obvious dislike.

“Why, Officer Tyson, I am surprised by your lack of imagination. Much more is necessary, I assure you. For instance, I have a neurobiologist waiting by the She-Creature—that is the name of your ship—to inject symbiotes into the both of you so that the two of you can communicate via thought transmission and avoid any electronic or spectrographic listening devices in your quarters.”

“Wait a minute, you mean I’m going to have Ty inside my head? And I’ll have to be inside his?” Shaina was getting a very bad feeling about this. Suddenly she wasn’t quite so glad she’d volunteered. It was Ty’s turn to look smug.

“Not to worry, my dear,” Minister Waynos said reassuringly, obviously misunderstanding her apprehension. “The technique utilizes symbiotes, a specially bred strain of neurobacteria that allows thought transmission by establishing a neural link with your partner. It’s a very exact science but quite easy to learn. You’ll have a day before hypersleep and a day or so after to practice the technique involved in thought transmission. Plenty of time.”

“Are the symbiotes removable after the mission?” Ty asked the obvious question, Shaina noticed gratefully. It had been on her mind as well.

“Unfortunately, the symbiotes, once introduced into a humanoid host, are completely irretrievable. But…” The Minister held up one prim finger, stopping the protests about to burst out of both of them. “But they will degrade with time and eventually their effects will fade. In the meantime, they will keep their hosts—that’s you, Officers Tyson and McCullough—in perfect health and give you greatly increased healing abilities and the capacity to communicate via thought transmission. All with no harmful side effects whatsoever.” He smiled triumphantly, like a salesman winding up his pitch, and sat back down on the plush chair, stroking his silver goatee.

Besides being inside her annoying ex-partner’s head, that is, Shaina mentally finished for him. Out loud she said, “I’ve only ever heard rumors of symbiote injections before. That kind of technology can’t be cheap.”

“Right you are, my dear.” Minister Waynos looked a little grim. “In fact, this treatment that the Chancellor is giving you free of charge is only available at a few very exclusive spas and clinics around the known universe and has been strictly regulated for years. I won’t tell you exactly how much it costs but it can run into the multimillions of credits, especially for advanced packages like the one you’ll be receiving.”

“We’re very grateful, but let’s not forget that the Chancellor is doing all this so that we can have a better chance of rescuing his son from a life of hideous servitude as a pleasure slave,” Tyson said dryly. Shaina pressed her hand to her mouth in what she hoped was a thoughtful expression, trying to smother a smile.

“Quite so,” the Minister acknowledged gravely. “As I said before, the Chancellor has spared no expense to be sure your mission is successful. In addition to the ship, the symbiotes, a more than adequate supply of credits, and a set of impeccable false credentials for you both, the Chancellor is also sending an expert to help you train for your roles—doubtless the most important roles of your lives.”

“An expert? Who’s an expert on the Pleasure Planet?” Tyson asked skeptically. Privately, Shaina wondered the same thing.

“Why, an ex–pleasure slave, of course,” Minister Waynos said, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world. “His name is Faron, I believe. He’s a Glameron and he’s the Chancellor’s personal…ah…best friend. I’m sure you take my meaning.”

Shaina did take his meaning and she could tell by the expression on his face that Ty did as well. So the Chancellor had his own private pleasure slave. Everyone knew that Glamerons were never anything else. They were the only known race of humanoids in the galaxy that actually enjoyed servitude—something to do with their genetic makeup. Somewhere she had heard the theory that an older, now extinct, race had played with the Glamerons’ DNA sequences until they were perfected as the natural slaves they had come to be.

Owning a Glameron was almost the same as having an estate on one of Jupiter’s more exclusive moons or getting your name in the book of the four and forty-four families. No wonder the Chancellor could afford all the expensive symbiote treatments and the ship and line of credit he was giving them. Owning a Glameron meant that he must be fabulously wealthy.

And it also meant that he had ties to the Pleasure Planet and the slave trade that he wasn’t admitting. Shaina almost wished she had the symbiotes inside her right now so that she could discuss her speculations with Ty without being overheard. But looking across the room at his darkly handsome face pulled into a thoughtful scowl, she decided that she could wait after all.

“Well,” Minister Waynos made a self-important little sound somewhere between a cough and a sniff and stood up. “If you have no further questions, then I would ask that you both present yourselves at gate three of the private sector of the port tomorrow morning at eight sharp. I realize that doesn’t give you much time to say good-bye to friends and family, but as I think I pointed out earlier, time is of the essence. Needless to say, please keep the details of this mission completely confidential. Oh, and I almost forgot the small matter of remuneration.”

“Remuneration?” Shaina heard herself asking. She was still trying to work out how she could say good-bye to her mother without giving away the nature of her dangerous and somewhat kinky assignment. Her mom had never wanted her to be a Peace Control Officer in the first place. If she heard Shaina was off to the Pleasure Planet to play sex-mistress to her annoying if fascinating ex-partner’s pleasure slave, she might lose it altogether.

“Yes my dear, compensation, payment for services rendered,” Waynos explained pompously. For the first time, Shaina began to dislike him a little.

“Yes, we know what it means.” Ty’s impatient tone said that he had been disliking the dapper little man with the silver-plated facial hair for quite some time now. “Officer McCullough is just asking you to get on with it. If we’ve only got one night to get ready we need to move. Packing alone…”

“Oh no, you needn’t pack, not so much as a sonic toothbrush,” the Minister interrupted him. “Clothing and toiletries are completely taken care of. Don’t even bother to pack a book to read or a vid to watch. I assure you that all your spare time is going to be wholly consumed with mastering the symbiotes and the customs of Syrus Six.”

“Remuneration?” Ty reminded him, pointedly. “You brought it up, not me,” he reminded the offended-looking Minister.

“Certainly,” the little man agreed stiffly. “When I came to your chief”—he nodded at Chief Hamilton who, apparently feeling that his part of the negotiations was done, sat at his glass-topped desk doing paperwork—“I told him I was only interested in officers who volunteered freely, but that when the volunteers were chosen I would discuss monetary matters with them. I have here”—he whipped out a small, sharkskin briefcase that Shaina had not previously noticed and produced two sets of legal-looking documents—“a contract for each of you to sign.” He handed them each a copy of the fat document.

“This merely states that you will do your best to rescue the Chancellor’s son. If you try and fail you will still receive the tidy sum of twenty-five thousand credits apiece. If, however, and this is our sincere hope, you bring back Paul alive and hopefully unharmed, you will be given the sum of five million credits apiece, considerably more, as I’m sure you’ll note. News or capture of the heinous beast who perpetrated this travesty in the first place will double your fee in either case.

“And now, Officers, Chief Hamilton, I must go. The Chancellor would like to see me once more before I see you off at the port. Just bring the completed documents along with you when you come. Remember, nothing else is necessary. Good-bye, good-bye, a pleasure, an absolute pleasure my dear.” He patted Shaina’s hand once more, pumped the Chief’s, and waved austerely at Tyson as he left by the office window. Stepping into a hovering, iridescent blue racer that was waiting for him outside, he roared away in a cloud of aesthetically pleasing pink dust.

“Spread your legs, sweetheart. That’s it, a little wider. Let me in.” Shaina did as he asked, watching the molten gold eyes flaring above her in the semidarkness. Smooth golden-tan skin brushed against hers, making her aware of her nakedness and her defenseless position pinned beneath his masculine bulk.

“Ty, we shouldn’t…I’ve never…” she gasped, but he didn’t let her finish. Bending over her, he took her mouth in a hungry kiss that left her breathless, unable to protest his assault on her senses. The warm scent of him filled her head and his mouth tasted like cinnamon.

“Been wanting to do this for a long time, Shaina. Been wanting to fuck you,” he growled low in her ear and she gasped to feel the head of his heavy cock brushing along one inner thigh, searching for her center.

“No…please…” she begged even as she spread her legs wider, trembling, feeling the pulsing heat and wetness between them as her sex prepared for his invasion.

“Can’t stop now. Can’t wait to be inside you.” She felt the broad head find its target and part her slippery folds, nudging into her wet heat. Goddess, he was so big…She cried out in terror and need.

“Please…” She didn’t know if she was begging him to stop or go on.

“Gonna ride your sweet pussy hard tonight, Shaina. Gonna fuck you all night long,” he whispered as the thick shaft of his cock slid home inside her quivering, defenseless sex, taking her, making her his…

Shaina woke up gasping and drenched in sweat. It took her a moment to assure herself that she was in her own room on her familiar gel mattress. Just a dream, it had been just a dream. But it had been so real that she could taste Ty’s mouth on hers, still feel the weight of his body on her…inside her.

No, she thought. It won’t be like that. Just another undercover assignment, that’s all this mission is…

An undercover assignment where she had to play Mistress to Brent Tyson’s sex slave…Goddess, what had she let herself in for?

Shaina rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. The mission started tomorrow and she would need her rest. But the dream wouldn’t leave her mind and sleep was a long time coming.