by Amy Star
“Great,” said Suzanne ironically. “That makes me feel so much better.”
He stroked her hair again, and this time slipped his hand under her hair to touch her back warmly. “Listen, this is a request from me. It’s not a demand and it’s not an expectation. You don’t have to go and you don’t have to help me with this. I can go alone and I can take their two-bit judgements. I just wanted this time to be different.”
“It’s just…kind of dishonest, Justin. And I know a lot of people would wonder why I’d even care about honesty…”
“…which just goes to prove my point,” he cut in.
“I know it does,” she agreed. “But it’s different when it’s just you and me. We’re not pretending to be anything but what we are, and we’re not putting on a show to fool anyone else. We’re just us and we’re just doing what we do for ourselves. But to pass ourselves off as something we’re not to all those other people, and it’s none of their business anyway.
People think what they think about what I do and who they think I am, but I’m an honest woman. I’m a businesswoman, like you’re a businessman. And I do an honest business. Not legally honest, maybe, but honest for what’s given and what’s expected. And if I pretend that the client and I are more than we are, it’s to serve the client, it’s just between us, and it’s over and forgotten when the appointment is.”
“I get that,” Justin said. “You know, a few people think your profession should be legal anyway. You don’t hurt anyone, as long as it’s between you and the client.”
“No, I don’t.”
“And you wouldn’t be hurting the morphs up at Ambrosian City. You’d only be helping me and they’d be none the wiser.”
“No, they wouldn’t.”
“You don’t have to answer right away,” he said, now starting to sift his fingers through the thick, long waves of her hair. “There’s some time. Think about it. But later; think about it later.” He leaned his face over to her and his lips found hers. He kissed her softly at first. When she straightened up on the bed and gave herself into the kiss, Justin kissed her harder, more hotly—and more affectionately. She felt the tenderness, the true affection. He fondled her breasts and hardened her nipples.
Lost in the feeling of his mouth and hers together, Suzanne wondered why she did not just say yes to his proposition. It was for double the rate, after all. And he was, after all, the most wonderful, spectacular man she had ever met in her professional capacity.
Slipping out of the kiss, Justin said, “Don’t think about any of that now. Put it away in your head. Lie back down with me.”
Hours later, still in bed near dusk, with the waning sunlight making a pink and golden glow in the penthouse bedroom, Suzanne lay in his arms after he had shown her his incredible werebear libido three more times. She was curled up there on the bedspread with him behind her, kissing her shoulders and pawing at her bosom, the things they had talked about earlier still rolling and spinning in her mind. And then, almost out of nowhere, she spoke up.
“Justin?”
“Yes, Suzanne?” he said, kissing and licking his way up to her neck, teasing her nipples.
“Let’s go to Ambrosian City. Take me there.”
He shifted on the bed to look down at her with both desire and gratitude on his model-handsome face. “Really? You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Justin kissed her hard, as if to suck out her soul or feed his to her.
“Know what I’m going to do now? I am going to order us the most expensive dinner in Los Angeles. We’re going to have dinner downstairs. And then I’m going to fuck you senseless down there and back up here all night long.”
“Sounds perfect,” she said.
And for a while, they rolled on the sheets, kissing and feeling each other, loving each other’s body, happy to be together and be just who they were.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Justin, of course, did exactly as he said he would do. The next morning, after temporarily working off his erection with a couple of wake-up sessions in bed, Suzanne was surprised that she could walk downstairs. It was not that she was wobbly from how hard he did it all night and that morning; she was accustomed to that. Her only surprise was that her toes were not permanently curled from it.
She donned his black silk shirt and he slipped into another one of those excruciatingly sexy loincloths, and back downstairs they went to breakfast. It was during breakfast that the intercom rang and Justin ran to the living room to answer it.
Hitting the button next to the elevator door, Justin called, “Good morning, who’s there?”
“It’s me—Mack,” said the voice from the lobby. “I have something to tell you. I’m sorry; I know you still have Suzanne up there and I wouldn’t bother you, but this can’t wait. You need to know.”
Justin grumbled a little curse and rang him up.
He heard Suzanne’s voice at the threshold between the living room and the dining room. “Everything all right?”
“It’s just Mack,” he called back. “He’s on his way up about some business thing he says can’t wait.”
“And you’re going to see him like that?” she asked, indicating the loincloth.
He grinned sexily at her. “Remember who we are. We don’t care about things like that when we’re not doing business with humans. Go on back to breakfast; I won’t be long.” He corrected himself. “That is, I’ll be long after breakfast when I get your hot little ass back upstairs. I won’t be long with Mack.”
She just rolled her eyes at him and flounced back to the dining room.
A minute later, the elevator doors parted and Max stepped out into the living room, completely nonplussed as expected by his employer’s attire.
“So,” Justin asked with arms crossed, “what is this that couldn’t wait?”
“It’s about something that just happened at Bio-Shapers. Something our sources told me, that you ought to know.”
“I don’t own Bio-Shapers any more, of course you know that. But what is it? Did someone acquire it who could mean trouble?”
“Someone acquired it,” Mack began, “who’s been up to something that I think you ought to hear from me before you hear it from our sources.”
Justin, seeing how serious his assistant was, went to sit on one of the white leather sofas and motioned for Mack to settle himself into a chair. “All right,” he said, “let’s hear it.”
“After you sold them off,” said Mack, “and they reorganized, they went into some areas of biotech that are…kind of sketchy. Things you might not have approved of when they were in your hands.”
“What things?”
“Things having to do with…metamorph biology. Morph DNA and morph hormones.”
Justin immediately sensed where this might be going. “Hell no. You don’t mean…”
“They took it into the area of sports medicine, fitness technology, performance and growth supplements…”
Justin hung and shook his head. “Shit, you’re right. I wouldn’t have gone that way.”
“But they did. And…that’s not the half of it.”
Now the billionaire looked back up at his employee, almost afraid to hear what was coming next.
Mack continued, “They were anxious, really anxious, to start earning shareholders’ confidence. So…they rushed the work into human trials.”
“God damn,” Justin groaned.
“And…,” Mack went on, with the same trepidation about saying it as Justin felt about hearing it, “…they had a really eager test subject. Someone, from what I hear, they went to on purpose, or someone who came looking for them.”
More warily than ever now, Justin asked, “Who?”
“Mariah Porter.”
Justin burst out, utterly shocked, stricken with horror, “WHAT!?” Then, nervously, glancing over in the direction of the dining room, hoping his outburst had not been heard, he repeated in an “inside” voice but with the same horror, “What?”
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“It’s true. They were using Mariah. And…things got out of hand.”
Now Justin turned pale. “How out of hand?”
“This…is where it gets really bad,” said Mack. “They were working on things that could have applications in sports, personal fitness, athletic competition—even the military. Using pieces of metamorph DNA and components of morph hormones, enzymes, neurotransmitters, to give humans some of the capabilities of the ‘animal’ side of different shifter breeds. Strength, speed, agility, smell, hearing, eyesight and night vision…”
“And Mariah volunteered for the human trials of that?”
“They paid her. Really, really well.” He did not say, Probably about as well as you’re paying Suzanne to get on top of her, but of course Justin knew what Mack knew about that. “And she was the perfect subject for them. Actually…she was too good.”
“What happened?” asked Justin, bracing himself.
“She responded really, really well to the compounds they gave her. She got really strong, really powerful, and developed different powers—really fast. They didn’t expect her to be as good a subject as she was—and that’s how it all went where it finally went.”
“They lost control of the experiment,” Justin guessed gravely.
“They lost control of her,” said Mack. “They paid her, she sent the money someplace where only she could find it—and then she decided she didn’t need them any more. She told them she was taking off, that she had other business, other things on her mind, other things she wanted to do. She told them to go fuck themselves. And when they tried to stop her leaving…”
Justin put his face in his hands. “Oh, holy shit. Please tell me she didn’t kill anyone.”
“No one died,” said Mack. “But that wasn’t for Mariah not wanting them dead. She didn’t care what she did to them. Mariah wanted out and she got out. She went through Bio-Shapers—their lab and their people. Tore up the place and anyone who got in her way. And she’s loose now, with the powers they gave her, and no one knows where Mariah’s gone or what the hell she’ll do.”
Raising his head only to lean it back on the sofa, Justin growled, “God…damn!”
Solemnly, Mack said, “I thought you should know. You don’t own Bio-Shapers any more, so you’re not liable. But still…”
Now Justin faced him again, and again he knew where this was going. “But still, we both remember how she was when we broke it off. She wasn’t hearing ‘goodbye’. She kept showing up, no matter how many times I saw her off. It took a restraining order and a night behind bars before she finally got the message.”
“Or so we thought,” said Mack. “A restraining order only makes someone stay away. It doesn’t stop them being obsessed. And Mariah was fucking obsessed.”
“Was…and maybe still is,” Justin realized aloud. “Make that probably still is, if she deliberately went looking for a company that I used to own, or said yes when someone there who knew her when we were together made her a proposition. The whole thing must go back to me, to her still wanting to have some kind of hold on me. Maybe to her thinking this is the way to get me back.” He pondered all the ramifications for a moment. Then: “This is why I don’t do ‘relationships’.”
A silent moment passed between Justin and Mack. His employee tacitly understood what Justin meant. Mack knew the way his boss lived, and did not judge. Especially not now.
“So you haven’t told anyone else about this,” Justin said, speaking up again.
“No, boss,” Mack said. “I came right to you first.”
“All right. Here’s what I want you to do. First, make sure everyone in security throughout our organization knows about this. Make sure they all have pictures of Mariah and they know who they’re on the lookout for. And get the word out to our contacts in law enforcement—police and FBI. But do it quietly, Mack, quietly. Even though we don’t have a liability in any of this, you know how easily it can get from the law to the media. Make sure it stays under the radar.”
“I’m on it,” Mack assured him.
Justin ruffled his fingers through his hair and grunted heavily. “Damn, this would be happening now with the Gathering coming up. Damn, damn, damn.” He stood up and Mack stood with him. Together they walked back towards the elevator door. “Mack, I’m taking Suzanne to Ambrosian City. Get the arrangements made and clear out your own schedule. You’re coming with us.”
“Yes, Sir,” said Mack, pressing the button for the elevator. Then, his tone turned even more discreet than in the conversation they had just finished. “Taking her up to Ambrosian, then?” His total knowledge of exactly what the situation was showed on his face. “So the two of you…,” he made a hard pumping motion with his fist in the air, “it’s still that good?”
The billionaire man-bear nodded subtly at him, of course understanding the pumping gesture. He returned it with a gesture of hitting the palm of one hand with the fist of the other. “It’s more like that. And it’s been unbelievable. I’m almost afraid when I get her up into the mountains we’ll cause an avalanche.”
“Damn,” said Mack. “Well, good for the two of you, then.” To which he mentally added, And yet, you don’t ‘do relationships’… The door opened for him. “I’ll text you when everything’s set up,” he said, stepping into the elevator. I know better than to call when you’re busy with her.
“Do that. Thanks, Mack.”
“Sure thing, boss.” And the door slid shut, and Mack was gone.
In the dining room Justin found Suzanne standing at the window with a glass of orange juice in her hand, staring out at Los Angeles. She looked over to acknowledge him. Justin went to her, took the glass from her and set it on the window ledge, then pulled her into his arms for a sizzling kiss.
“Everything okay with Mack?” she asked.
Deliberately keeping himself focused, concerned that if his attention wandered she might grow concerned and start asking questions, Justin said, “It’s fine. Just a little fire that needed putting out in one of the companies. He did the right thing, coming to me. I gave instructions and he’s gone to get it done.” He slipped his hands under the hem of his shirt as it hung on her. Cupping and squeezing her buttocks, he said, “Now I have some instructions for you.”
“Yes?” she grinned into his kiss.
“Back upstairs,” he said. “More sex. In the shower. Then in bed.”
“Blow job in the shower, I assume,” she said.
“Absolutely.” And he untied and whipped off his loincloth, releasing what most needed his attention. She took it in hand as he undid the buttons on his shirt and slipped it off her.
In the shower and in bed for the rest of the morning, the mood of Justin’s sex changed again, from mauling and hard-banging to something slower, gentler, more tender, and ever more delightful for that reason. Suzanne noted and enjoyed the change as much as she enjoyed him mauling and hard-banging her. But she could not help but wonder if the change in mood might have anything to do with his impromptu meeting with Mack. She decided it was probably out of bounds to mix their business with his business unless he brought it up, and dismissed the thought and gave herself into the feeling of Justin holding and kissing her in bed, and playing with her muff and her petals.
Justin, engaging Suzanne in warm and moist afterplay—or between-play—kept his mind mostly on the matter in bed. He was screwing the most beautiful female he had ever seen, and that should keep him well occupied.
And yet, in the dark back recesses of his mind lurked the knowledge that somewhere out there lurked Mariah Porter. Angry, resentful Mariah Porter, who had wanted more from him than he was prepared to give and was now a creature somewhere between a human and a metamorph, with the powers of different breeds at her command. What did she want now? And how did she mean to get it?
CHAPTER EIGHT
In the heart of the Canadian Rockies, along one arc of the vast, almost circular Lake Ambrosia, with mountains rising up on all sides, lay Ambrosia
n City.
It was not always one of the most fabulous and spectacular resort towns in the world. It had started out much more humbly, but ambitiously, with one ski-resort chalet on the face of one mountain. The Ambrosian Chalet was now a retreat and vacation property, rented out to business groups and well-heeled vacationers for as little as a day or as long as a couple of weeks. The business streaming into the town had simply outgrown the capacities of one single chalet, spectacular though the property was, when the wealthy metamorphs of the world started to come for their holidays, their exclusive and lavish parties, and their business functions. When the rich and influential two-bodied people made Ambrosian City their home away from home, it became one of the places where “everyone who was anyone” wanted to be.