License to Love (An Agent Ex Novel)

by Robinson, Gina

  It’s true you can’t hypnotize a person and get them to do something they’re absolutely set against. But if they have the inclination? Anything’s fair game.

  And now she wondered—would Rock have fallen for her without her help? And was he right that it didn’t matter?

  Around Sol she was playing another role, that of his ideal woman—a dark, deceitful girl who couldn’t be trusted. If she got the chance, she’d plant that same you’re in love with me thought in Sol. It was a dangerous game to play. Magicians were notoriously hard to hypnotize. They recognized the techniques. And love could turn to obsession. Men like Sol were prone to dark obsession and lethal jealousy.

  Sol walked into the studio just then. “Ah, there’s my new star.” He looked around the room. “No one saw you come in?”

  She gave him the smile she used to enchant men. “I’m a spook, Sol. You know that.” For once she was actually telling the truth.

  Sol laughed and walked up to her, standing in her personal space.

  “I was very careful.” She took his arm. “Believe me. I’m taking no chances with my big break.”

  “I tried to reach you last night,” Sol said almost too casually. “You weren’t in the hotel room I reserved for you. Where were you?”

  She’d expected he’d have her followed. But she refused to be his prisoner. Sol wouldn’t like it, but he’d respect her more if she could best him and disappear beneath his nose.

  “Why didn’t you call me on my cell?” she said, playing his game.

  “I wanted to know where you were,” he said.

  “With a friend,” she said, equally casually. “Hiding out.” She gave his arm a squeeze and made eyes at him. “Like I said, I’m taking no chances. Making sure there’s no connection between us. Using extreme caution.”

  “I appreciate that, Lani, my dear. I do. But we could have had a pleasant evening together.”

  “Oh, there’s plenty of time for that. Plenty.”

  The door to the studio flew open. A young, cute man with his hair stylishly highlighted and messily spiked strolled in dressed in dance tights and a tight T-shirt. The choreographer had arrived.

  “My place. Tonight,” Sol said.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The view from Sol’s hotel penthouse suite was a breathtaking combination of neon and nature. The setting was intimate and the dinner catered. Lani had dressed for the occasion in a sexy, short, clingy black dress with a slightly exotic Asian cut to the bodice and skirt. She’d played up the slight almond shape of her eyes with liquid eyeliner and heavy plum makeup, going for smoky bedroom eyes. Her sandals were spiky and her jewelry gold, a Japanese crane pendant hung around her neck.

  Asian women turned Sol on. They were his one big weakness. At least that’s what his dossier said and her personal experience confirmed.

  Candles flickered. The wine was the most expensive the hotel offered. Soft romantic music played in the background.

  “You were fantastic at practice.” Sol sat next to her on the sofa, swirling and sniffing an after-dinner glass of deep, red wine, his arm looped casually around her shoulders.

  “You picked up the dance moves quickly and handled the reappearance and escape moves expertly.” He raised his glass to her. “It’s a shame Rock’s tastes run toward Hispanic women and you have to wear that gaudy wedding dress costume he designed for you.” He nuzzled her neck and ran a finger down her collarbone and between her breasts. “The dress you’re wearing tonight suits you so much better.”

  Lani forced a smile and nestled her head into the crook of Sol’s neck, resisting the urge to slam her head back and break his nose. “Rock’s tastes run toward the showy.”

  Sol wore an expensive, delicious-smelling cologne. Lani had the feeling that after tonight, the scent would make her gag.

  “The way you’ve done your makeup suits you better, too. Plays up your gorgeous eyes.” He set his crystal wine goblet down on an end table next to the sofa and gently guided her chin until she faced him. “Maybe…”

  She shook her head and pretended to be transfixed by the look in his eyes. In actuality, the lust reflected there repulsed her. “We’ve been over this, Sol. For the reappearance to work, I have to look exactly as I did that night. Top of my head to tiny baby toe. The same. Otherwise, how will the audience recognize me?”

  “You’re too modest, Lani. How could anyone ever forget you?” Sol rubbed her shoulder with one hand. “You’re tense, baby. Let me help you loosen up. I’m very good with my hands.”

  I bet you are. She was good with hers, too. She knew how to kill with them and if he pushed her too far …

  She set her wine goblet down and turned her back to him for him to massage. Or pummel, as the case may be. Sol liked to be obeyed and tonight it was her job to humor him. Until she bent him to her will using trickery and deceit. And hormones. Once she had him at her mercy—

  Suffice it to say she wished there weren’t rules and policy and guidelines that restricted her from doing what she really wanted to do to the pompous, egotistical, illusion-stealing enemy of the state. Of course any regular licensed hypnotherapist would be thrown out of the profession for what she was about to do. Fortunately, NCS wholeheartedly approved of her methods. Torture may be out, but abusing hypnotherapy and implanting false memories were still approved methods of interrogation. And a lot of fun, too, if a tad on the dangerous side.

  Sol rubbed both of her shoulders with enough force she almost winced. Which she was sure was his intention. Despite his clean-cut looks, Sol was brutal and brutish to his core.

  When he was finished abusing her shoulders, he lifted her hair and bit the nape of her neck with the vigor of an angry toddler, stopping just short of breaking the skin. She let out an involuntary yelp, which only seemed to turn him on. He trailed kisses and semi-gentle gnaws down her back.

  She was leery of him now. On edge, which she was sure was what he intended. Tense and ready to arch away if he bit again. The last thing she needed was a trail of his dental records down her spine. She’d already let him inflict one mouth-shaped bruise she’d have to hide from Rock and the world.

  But she wasn’t most women. She’d pay him back for that bite. Sol, baby, you just earned yourself a bout of erectile dysfunction.

  Word on the street was that Sol liked his sex hard, abusive, and punishing. She’d like to disabuse him of his thoughts that he was a great lover. And deliver a nice karate chop to his groin.

  Sol’s hot breath, followed by the long stroke of his reptilian tongue on the back of her neck, made her skin crawl. She involuntarily shuddered. Fortunately, Sol took it wrong and thought his finesse had turned her on.

  If only he knew. Each nip and lick pushed her one step closer to removing him of his manhood—permanently. Only years of training and the thought of another two years of desk duty kept her in line. She let out a small gasp, mostly of disgust, and tipped her head back, letting Sol stroke her hair.

  He yanked her head back by her hair until she was looking back at him upside down. He kissed her, brutally thrusting his tongue down her throat as he slid a hand down her dress to fondle her breast and squeeze her nipple, hard enough that she suppressed a yelp of pain.

  He pulled back and grinned down at her, looking just as evil upside down as right side up. She half expected his eyeballs to start spinning like a mesmerizing snake’s, demonic and trance inducing. “How do I know you won’t betray me to Rock?”

  “If I had any loyalty to Rock, would I be here with you?” she whispered back as she reached up to stroke his face. “Besides, I have something to tell you about Rock. Some secret information that will prove my loyalty to you.”

  Sol froze. “What could you possibly know?”

  “I still have friends here. Girls who hear things and like to share. Word on the street is that Rock went to LA yesterday with his new pal, that software guy, Tate something?”

  “Cox.”

  She had Sol’s attention. She nodded
. “Yeah, that’s the guy. Him and some blonde. They went to the Magic Castle and interviewed a bunch of magicians for a top-secret new act Rock is planning.”

  Sol’s eyes grew hard. He was definitely interested now. “What kind of act?”

  Lani shrugged. “I don’t know. But one of the girls at the hotel said she’s seen him hanging with one of those alien-believing nuts, a bigwig of some sort with them. They have a conference coming up next week and he’s been in town making arrangements. Another one of her friends partied with that bigwig and he was bragging about a big surprise they’re planning for their attendees. Something that will blow them away.” Lani shrugged. “So I put two and two together. I bet he’s hired Rock to do a show for them.

  “Trust me now?” She was getting a crick in her neck from the awkward position. But she put on a sexy pout for his sake.

  He laughed softly. “I’ve always trusted you.”

  “You are such a wicked liar.” She pulled free of his grasp, slid off the sofa to kneel between his legs, and ran her hands up the inside of his thighs toward his crotch. “Prove it.” She rested one hand on the bulge in his pants and gently rubbed with a touch that made him shudder.

  “Prove it?” He was cynical and laughing at her. “Trust can’t be proven, only built over years.”

  She shook her head. “We both know that’s not true. Give me a shot at hypnotizing you. Let me let loose all your deepest desires.”

  He laughed again and shook his head, looking at her as if she was crazy. “Lani, baby, you ask the impossible. I’m not susceptible. I’m part of the twenty percent who can’t be hypnotized.”

  She grabbed the zipper to his pants and slid it down slowly, one notch at a time. His eyes dilated and his breath grew rapid.

  “Being hypnotized is a matter of trust. Like trusting I’m not going to catch your cock in this zipper.” She leaned forward and untucked his shirt with her mouth, still holding the zipper and the fly of his pants. “Let me try. Let me take you to new heights, to pleasure you’ve only imagined.

  “I know how to hypnotize a man to heighten the experience. Let me work my magic.” She let go of the zipper, pulled him onto the sofa, and climbed onto his lap, cupping his face in her hand.

  “Don’t tell me you’re afraid?” She kissed him lightly. “Are you afraid of ecstasy? Are you afraid to let the beast in you go?”

  He grabbed her dress, pulled it over her head, and dropped it on the floor, leaving her exposed in her see-through lace bra and matching thong panties. “Is that a challenge?” Sol’s pupils dilated until the brown rims of his irises were barely visible.

  The large blue topaz ring on her right hand sparkled in the candlelight. Her lips were inches from his. “Absolutely, baby.”

  She moved his hands to her breasts and stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers, running her hand right next to his nose just as she hit a hidden button on the ring. The ring released an invisible, odorless burst of the hormone oxytocin, which stimulates trust and generosity to strangers. It was a hypnotist’s dream drug.

  She cupped his chin and released another burst of the oxytocin. “Trust me, baby. I can make you very, very happy.”

  He thrust his pelvis into hers so she could feel him hard against her. “You can make me happier than this?”

  “I can make you happier than ever.”

  His black eyes stared back at her. “I’m game. But when this fails, we play my way.”

  “You have to promise to try to fall under my spell.”

  “I’m already under your spell. But I’ll try harder.” He thrust up against her again.

  She kissed him lightly again and waved her hand in front of his face as she released another burst of oxytocin. “You’re getting very sleepy.”

  Sol grinned. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

  “I’ve only just begun.” She stared deeply into his eyes and went into her patter in her smooth, calm, seductive voice, releasing bursts of oxytocin at regular intervals until his body relaxed and his head lolled back.

  “Sol, Sol, can you hear me? Your left hand is heavy. Very heavy. Dead weight. Too heavy to lift. Can you lift it for me, Sol?”

  Sol struggled, even grabbed it with his right hand and tried to lift it. But it wouldn’t move.

  He’s under.

  “That’s good, Sol. You can stop trying to move it now.”

  Sol had hidden cameras watching everything. Lani leaned back and pretended to remove a shoe, hitting a secret button in the heel that activated a camera jammer.

  “You’re a brilliant man.” She stroked his cheek again, releasing another burst of the hormone. “Brilliant men are sexy,” she cooed. “But you don’t get to brag, do you? Such a shame. The world should know how great you are. You’re planning a big illusion. Something so fantastic and brilliant you can’t tell anyone. Except me, Sol. Telling me will give you a sexual high.

  “Imagine kissing me, tasting me, running your hands over my body, experiencing every inch of me, knowing we share a secret so dangerous and brilliant it unites us as one. Telling me releases you from your bonds, makes you whole and powerful. It will show them who’s in control.” As she stroked his cheek, he gasped and writhed beneath her.

  If only she could stop straddling him, jump off, get dressed, and head home to shower. But she couldn’t take the chance of breaking his trance.

  “When you tell me your secrets, you’ll feel a tremendous sense of relief, and a rush of sexual excitement like you’ve never felt before.”

  She unbuttoned his shirt and stroked his chest. “You’re turned on. Throbbing. Pushing to the point of release. Feel strong. Feel the power of sharing. What are you planning, baby? Tell me about your next grand illusion.”

  Sol was breathing heavily. “Outlandish Marauders.”

  She already knew that. “Give me the details. Who’s involved? Who are you working with?”

  He tensed and became agitated and silent. He was afraid.

  No one ever got out of bed with RIOT alive. Or screwed up and lived to tell about it. She had to proceed carefully or risk pushing him out of the hypnotic state.

  “I can bring you great pleasure.” She leaned into him and whispered in his ear, “But you have to trust me with your secrets.”

  He shook his head and muttered, “People.” His fear was too great and deeply rooted to overcome. She tried several more times, but he didn’t spill any intel.

  “Sol, listen to me. Relax. Just relax. Everything is okay. Go back to that deep place inside yourself where you feel safe. Are you there, Sol? Are you safe?”

  He nodded.

  “Good. Good. I’m going to put you to bed. But first, you’re going to tell me a bedtime story—all your lovely, sexy fantasies. What turns you on. Your favorite positions, what you love for your women to say, how you like to be touched. How you imagine making love to me.

  “When you wake in the morning, you won’t remember a thing about what we talked about. But you’ll remember everything you describe in your story to me as real, so make it detailed and explicit, imagine it as a movie, as if we pleasured each other in all the ways you describe.

  “You’ll feel so close to me you’ll never want to hurt me, ever. No matter who orders it. You’ll protect me. Understand?”

  He nodded. “Never hurt you.”

  “You’ll never speak of this to anyone. Telling anyone could cost you your life.”

  He nodded. “Never speak.”

  She gave Sol a last dose of the oxytocin. “After you tell me your story, I’ll tell you mine.” A little story about a magician who developed a sudden case of erectile dysfunction.

  * * *

  Later that night, Lani cuddled up in the ultra-comfy king-size bed in Rock’s guest bedroom suite at his mansion, still trembling with disgust from having had to listen to Sol’s base fantasies. She’d managed to avoid Rock when she came in. He was in what he and Tate were calling the war room where they mapped out the illusion.
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  The illusion. Rumors, of course, abounded about the U.S. military installation, Area 51, or Dreamland as some called it, located about a hundred miles outside Las Vegas. Many Americans believed it’s where the U.S. government housed captured aliens for study and flying saucers and other UFOs. As far as Lani knew, Area 51 was simply a top-secret weapons and R&D facility. Even she didn’t have clearance to know what it was RIOT was planning to steal from there.

  Lani’s cell phone buzzed on the nightstand next to her. Her heart raced as she grabbed the phone, typed in her password, and hit view to see her text. Her little Stone smiled back at her, his dark hair flopping over his toddler eyes so like his father’s as he held a toy wand. Her weekly picture.

  Nanny sent one a week, but only after Lani sent the code word that it was all clear. Until the mission was over and RIOT no longer had a need for Rock, or any leverage against him, once-a-week e-mails were all the contact she was allowed.

  She stroked the phone as gently as if she was stroking her fifteen-month-old’s cheek. He looked so much like his daddy. She wished Rock could see him. She wished … for a lot of nearly impossible things.

  * * *

  It’s showtime, Lani thought as she waited in the dark just offstage for her cue to reappear after her two-year absence. Finally, the audience, an audience, anyway, would get their prestige. In Sol’s act. Damn, Sol.

  For two days Sol had punishingly worked her butt off in overly long rehearsals. Bending her into pretzels and contortions, trying everything to get just the right, most dramatic reveal. He’d finally settled on reenacting Rock’s act, with himself cast as the groom. This time successfully reappearing the bride.

  It was clear Sol wouldn’t rest until he’d completely humiliated Rock. If it weren’t for this mission, and its importance, Lani would never have agreed to be a part of it.

  Sol didn’t work just her. He’d worked the entire cast with an almost demonic energy. He was a dark magician with a mission—revenge and one-upmanship. And evil.