“This isn’t the Resort,” Kaya snaps. “He’s a gladiator, not a prostitute.”
I should be relieved by her defense of me. But hearing her say what they’re all thinking about me makes bile rise into the back of my throat.
“You don’t have to make it sound so…predatory,” Yelena says. “I’ll make sure he enjoys himself. Really, I’d be doing him a favor.” She turns to me. “How long have you been locked up with all those men, anyway? Surely you deserve a reward, for all you’ve accomplished.”
For all the men I’ve killed.
I should get to let a strange woman use me like a human dildo in exchange for all the murders they’ve made me commit.
This place is vile.
“No,” Kaya snaps, and Yelena removes her hand from my chest. But she hasn’t given up on this. I can see that in her eyes. I give her my best smoldering smile, hoping to fan the embers burning in her…gaze. I need her to take me some place private. I just need a few minutes away from this crowd.
Yelena turns to Kaya with a bright smile, and I can sense an impending subject change. “Kaya Johnston, I just realized we’ve been here for nearly an hour, and you haven’t said a word about your big news! If I hadn’t seen David at the UA shareholder conference, I’d have no idea you two are getting married!”
Cold washes over me, like a bucket of ice water dumped on my head. I stare at Kaya, stunned. Then anger blazes through my shock.
She’s engaged.
She kissed me like I was the only source of air on the planet, and she’s engaged. To a Universal Authority shareholder. I know there are farther-reaching implications of this new information, but all I can think about in this surreal moment is that someone else is going to get to touch Kaya.
Someone’s already been touching her. So where the hell is her ring?
“I…” Kaya glances at me, and for just an instant, her bubbly, professional facade cracks, showing a hint of…regret? Embarrassment? She doesn’t want me to hear this. I’ve been with her most of the day, and she hasn’t said a word about this fiancé, yet every time I turn around, I find her watching me. She keeps looking for reasons to touch me. To lean closer.
But what the hell did I expect? I’m a convict, and she’s a beautiful, wealthy, free woman, like a throwback to the life I gave up. An uptight rich bitch playing “what if” on fight days for a little taste of danger, but probably cuddling on leather sofas drinking fine wine with her straight-laced, pencil-pushing fiancé during the rest of the week.
That shouldn’t bother me. Light flirting and one kiss—even one amazing kiss—mean nothing. I only started flirting in the first place because Kaya’s in charge of all the goodies that show up in the greenroom, and I knew from the beginning that there could never be anything more to this than one kiss, stolen as a distraction so Graham could steal a knife. So why do I suddenly feel…dirty? Used?
“So?” Yelena says, oblivious to the tension forming between Kaya and me. “When’s the big day?”
“We haven’t set a date yet. There’s no hurry. Did you try the crab puffs?” Kaya points at a floating tray, obviously trying to change the subject, and when Yelena turns to grab an hors d’oeuvre, I pin her with a gaze.
“You could have told me,” I whisper. “I know we’re not exactly friends, but…you could have told me.”
“Sebastian, I—”
“Oh my god. These are amazing,” Yelena says as she rejoins us, swallowing her first bite of crab puff.
“I hear there’s something even better in the back.” I turn a heated look on her, and her brows rise as she swallows the last of her champagne. “Maybe I could show you, if Ms. Johnston could pull a couple of strings. I hear she’s really good at that.”
“No,” Kaya says through clenched teeth, ignoring me in favor of Yelena. “I can’t leave you alone with an inmate. That violates about a hundred safety regulations. I could lose my job.”
Yelena shrugs. “So send a couple of guards with us. I know these things happen, Kaya. Mindy Rollins said that last year she made a special donation, and Cohen Roth’s handler got her fifteen minutes with him. She said it changed her life.”
“Mindy Rollins is prone to exaggeration,” Kaya insists.
“But it happened. And it can happen again. And it’s not like he’s unwilling…”
They both turn to me, and I shrug, pinning Kaya with my gaze. “I’m here to keep the guests happy, right?”
“Is that really what you want?” She’s giving me an out. As if this weren’t my idea.
“Fifteen minutes with a beautiful woman, after months spent in a filthy cell, surrounded by other men?” I force a grin. “I think I can take one for the team, just this once.”
Yelena laughs. “Then it’s settled.” She links her arm through mine and guides me toward a door at the back of the room, leaving Kaya no choice but to follow. As we cross the transparent floor, with the surface of Rhodon gliding past far beneath my feet, I realize that my new date is making no effort to keep our rendezvous secret. She wants everyone to know where we’re going and exactly what we’re about to do.
They think I am a high-priced whore.
They can think whatever they want, as long as I get a few minutes away from the crowd.
Yelena leads me into a dim hallway, and as she follows, Kaya grabs two guards from their post along the wall. “Please escort Mr. Wolfe and Mrs. Aslanov some place private and stand watch while they…interact.” Anyone else would have told the guards to shoot me if I even looked like I might hurt Yelena, but Kaya knows me better than that. I would never hurt an innocent woman.
Even if offering to pay for my cock casts a bit of smudge on that innocence.
The guards fall in with us, one ahead, one behind, and Yelena lets her hand roam down my back to squeeze my ass as we walk. A minute later, the guard in the lead slides open a door into an unoccupied office and gestures for us to step inside.
As I cross the threshold, I turn for one last look at Kaya, who’s watching me from down the hall. She looks…hurt.
The feeling is mutual.
As I let Yelena tug me into the office, I wonder what Kaya’s fiancé’s last name is.
The door closes behind us, and the guards take up a position in front of it, rifles crossed over their chests, gazes fixed on the two of us. They’re clearly eager for a show.
Yelena begins pawing at me, evidently unbothered by the audience. She sucks on my nipple as she slides her hands into my pants, and I close my eyes, letting my body respond to the physical sensations. Trying not to think about who I’m here with.
Or who I’d rather be here with.
Or the fact that there are two strange men watching.
“My, you’re big all over, aren’t you?” Yelena says, and the very sound of her voice threatens to kill my erection. I kiss her, trying to pretend she’s Kaya. But she doesn’t taste like Kaya. She doesn’t smell like Kaya. She doesn’t kiss like Kaya. She’s too handsy and demanding. As if I’m just here to be used.
If I’m going to get through this, I’m going to have to take charge.
“Shut up.” I lift her and set her on the desk, and before she can object, I pull her hair back to expose the long line of her throat. She gasps, startled by the harsh movement. Then I reach back and unzip her dress. She wouldn’t want to fuck a gladiator unless she was expecting—secretly craving—some rough edges.
“Take it off,” I demand as I step back. “All of it.”
Yelena’s brows rise. Her pupils dilate even further, and I can practically smell her lust in the air. She slides off the desk onto her feet, but her hands hesitate at the silky straps on her shoulders. “Gentlemen, would you mind turning around?”
One of the guards frowns. “We’re here for your safety, ma’am.”
“I think you’re here to get off watching,” she snaps. “He’s not going to hurt me. Much,” she amends, throwing a heated gaze my way. “Right?”
“Whatever you want,” I pro
mise.
“I own eight percent of Universal Authority, gentlemen. So turn the fuck around, or I’ll have you fired.”
The guards glance at each other. Then, with a hesitant shrug, they turn and face the door.
This is my chance. There has to be something in here I can use to disable them. And if Yelena thinks it’s part of the game, she’ll probably let me tie her up…
Then movement on my left catches my attention, and I turn to see that there’s a window looking out into the hall—and that Kaya is watching us through it, her expression twisted with an odd combination of lust and pain. She’s torturing herself by watching. But that’s her choice, and I refuse to feel bad about that.
She’s the one who lied about having a fiancé. Whose eyes lit up every time I came into the room. Who kissed me back like my mouth was her drug of choice. She’s the one who let me think it was okay to feel something good, in the middle of the hell that is zone one.
And now she’s pulled that rug out from under me. Left me cold and alone.
I angle Yelena with her back to the window, so I can see Kaya over her shoulder, and while the rich bitch does a bad strip tease, showing off a surgically perfect middle-aged body, I let them both see how much I’m enjoying this.
Even if that’s a big fucking lie.
Finally, Yelena throws her black lace panties into the air and stands before me in naked triumph. It’s my move. I’m supposed to “change her life.” But I’m not hard anymore, and I’m not going to be. Not for her.
Not with Kaya watching through the window, her jaw clenched.
She could stop this. She could burst through the door. Or knock on the window. Or even shake her fucking head. One sign that she doesn’t want me to do this, and I’ll stop. All she has to do is admit that I’m more to her than a product to peddle. More than a good girl’s bad boy fantasy.
But she only stares at me, brow furrowed.
I can’t fuck Yelena. I wasn’t even planning to. By now, I should have had her all tied up and the guards disabled, but Kaya’s practically daring me to go through with this. So I do the only thing I can, with a soft cock and a huge chip on my shoulder.
I pick Yelena up and press her against the wall. Her legs go around my hips, but I slide her higher before she can get my pants undone. I lift her until her thighs settle onto my shoulders, her perfectly groomed pussy inches from my face. Then I turn my head, to make sure Kaya’s watching.
Her beautiful lips are angled down in a tragic pout, and as she turns and flees down the hall, I realize the dramatic shine in her eyes is from the tears standing in them.
I’ve won.
Because I am a total asshole who was determined to hurt her like she hurt me. Even if I’m not willing to admit that she has.
“Something wrong, big guy?” Yelena asks, and I look up at her, to avoid seeing what’s right in front of my face.
“Not in the least.” I lift her off my shoulders, then I lay one finger over her mouth before she can complain. “I just had an idea.” I pick up her dress and pull her thin sash from the loops around the waist. “If this is too much for you, let me know.” I hold the sash up, and her eyes shine with excitement. This is exactly what she wants. Pseudo-danger. Safe words. Rough sex with restraints, in a perfectly safe office, with two guards standing by, ready to rescue her, should this go too far.
Yelena wants to play a game.
She has no idea that she’s about to lose.
I lead her to the chair behind the desk, and when she sits, I move behind her. While I kiss my way down her neck, triggering an exaggerated series of moans from her, I gently pull her arms back. Then I tie the sash around them, just tight enough to pinch. To make her feel as if she’s actually restrained.
Which just happens to be true.
The back of the desk chair gets wider toward the top, and she’ll never be able to lift her bound arms over it.
With her tied in place, I grab her underwear and shove the material into her mouth, which she accepts because I’m giving her a playful smile as I run my free hand down her arm.
As I back away from the chair, I give her another sexy grin and make a shushing gesture with one finger over my lips. She nods, her chest rising and falling rapidly with excitement. Then I pick up a heavy, round knickknack from the desk and sneak across the room, my shoes silent on the floor.
By the time Yelena realizes what I’m about to do and starts making distressed noises behind her underwear gag, I’m just feet from the guards. They turn, and I swing at the one on the left. The glass ball smashes into his temple, and he goes down in a lump on the floor.
The other guard blinks for a second, stunned, and he tries to lift his rifle. But that’s too big a gun for such close quarters. I slam my hand down on top of the barrel, preventing him from raising it, and he’s too busy trying to overpower my left arm to notice my right one as it flies toward his head. The glass ball hits him in that same spot, and he goes down next to his coworker, one arm splayed across the other guard’s chest.
They look pretty damn cozy, as if they cuddled until they fell asleep on the floor.
Yelena makes high-pitched, desperate sounds behind her gag as I step over the unconscious bodies. I consider the rifles, but like all the guns on Rhodon, they’re probably programmed to recognize only authorized users’ fingerprints.
As I slide the door open, I give Yelena another shush signal, and she grunts frantically, her eyes wide. Then I close the door between us and take off deeper into the blimp, in search of the mechanical room.
This ship is about to go down.
The Prison Planet Series
By Emmy Chandler
Guardian
Hunter
Champion
Dirty Lies
Hostage
Traitor
About Emmy
Emmy Chandler likes tee-shirts and lattes. She firmly believes every woman deserves an armchair in front of the window, near an outlet close enough to charge an e-reader and power a mug warmer. Her perfect afternoon includes cold weather, thick blankets, warm soup, and a good book.
Emmy has another career under another name.
For more information about Emmy Chandler’s books…
www.EmmyChandler.com
Champion Page 28