by Jaide Fox
"You need to get closer," Korbin put forth. He nodded thoughtfully. "I think you should seduce her."
Korbin had mentioned the idea before. Nikandros had toyed with it himself, especially after seeing what she looked like. He planned on taking it no further than his personal fantasies. Although, to seduce someone didn’t mean you took them to your bed necessarily. It just meant you made them want to be in it.
As if reading Nikandros’ thoughts, Korbin said, "And this time, I don’t just mean romance her. Get her into your bed and screw her--"
"I understand," Nikandros interrupted with a deepening frown.
"What?" Korbin asked, sensing his friend’s hesitance. He almost looked as if he felt sorry for Nikandros’ situation, as he asked, "Is she that appalling?"
The answering scowl deepened.
"Ahh," Korbin began to laugh and pounded his fist on his nightstand so that his video phone bounced. Nikandros detected a woman to moan sleepily from behind his friend’s back. Sniffing in merriment, Korbin lowered his tone to say, "She’s not, is she? Hell, man, it’s about time you got laid. Go get her, tiger."
"I’m hanging up now," Nikandros said, his tone dry.
"No, wait, Nick," Korbin demanded. "I have to tell you something. It’s important."
"What?"
"Do you still know how to do it? If not, I--" Korbin’s laughing voice was cut off as Nikandros shut the video phone.
All right, so it had been awhile since he was attracted to someone enough to sleep with them. He lowered his head onto his hands and groaned. Even know he could smell the erotic perfume of her body. As far as attraction went, Quinlan St. James had all the right equipment.
* * * *
Silk pulled low over the balcony. Scaling the side of the old Victorian hadn’t been too hard. Seeing a soft light in the window, she crept under it on her stomach. Then, coming to the edge of the balcony, she climbed over the rail. Weaving a strand from her spinnerets, she jumped off the side and swung herself from one balcony to another. Her cape flapped around her, displaying the tight gray body suit underneath.
Within moments, she worked her way to an opened window and slipped inside, headfirst over a windowsill. Standing, she saw she was in a small bathroom. The decontaminator unit was made to look like an old fashioned shower. She crouched underneath the moving light sensors, not wanting them to detect her. Hitting the black leather pouch on her belt, she again stood. The box would emit a pulse that scrambled any household droids or contraptions, keeping them from alerting their owners as they tried to ‘serve her’.
Opening the bathroom door, she stepped out into the hall and stealthily tried to make her way to the stairwell at the far end. Suddenly, a door opened and she froze. Her eyes widened as she pressed into the wall. She was too far from the bathroom to duck back in. Her heart began to pound.
She heard a woman’s voice giggle from within the bedroom. Silk looked all around for a place to hide. About to reach up and jump to the ceiling, she noticed movement by her side. A large, naked man came from the bedroom. His muscles rippled like an Olympian God and his member was still very much erect and vibrating. Sniffing, Silk grimaced. It was a pleasure droid and he reeked of sex.
Holding very still, she watched as the naked robot passed right next to her. She couldn’t help the curious glance over its backside. She grinned naughtily. For a machine, it was certainly a work of art. A darker face flashed through her head and her smile faded. Why was she thinking of Nick Grant at a time like this?
Hurrying down the stairs before the droid made the return trip back to his mistress’ bedroom, Silk rushed across the dark house. She barely noted the antique furniture, or the endless lace and frippery draping all over of it.
Taking a scanner from her belt, she held it up and began to search around, examining behind the walls. She stopped as she found the inner working of a time lock safe hidden behind some paneling. With a push of a button, she looked inside it. Only a packet of money and some family jewels flashed on her screen so she ignored it. Working her way from room to room, she suddenly stopped as she found what she was looking for. It was the entrance to Dr. Nathaniel’s laboratory.
Pulling back a fake wall, she pushed her pointer finger to the lock and filled it with a hard tissue, packing it full. Then, turning her hand, she unlocked the door and slipped downstairs to the basement.
The laboratory was as long as the courtyard outside. Bright light flooded the metal structure. Silk stealthily made her way over the walkway, pulling her cape over her shoulder so it could not tangle amongst her feet. Holding onto the rail, she hopped over the side. Her fingers wrapped their silken cords over the metal bar and she slowly lowered herself down, her arms directly over her head. Then, stopping, she grimaced.
A full head of dark hair was beneath her, lying on top of a messy desk. If she let go, she would land right on top of the late working scientist. Silk frowned. The lab was supposed to be empty. Dr. Nathaniel was out of town for business and his very lovely trophy wife was enjoying her rental upstairs. As she looked back up, her body began to twist and she turned slightly in the air.
Ah, hell!
Silk released the gossamer strands from her fingers and flipped through the air, dropping to the ground with a heavy thud behind the scientist’s body.
Nikandros felt the presence above him. He didn’t move, pretending to sleep on the desk. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His senses peaked, ready to do battle. As he heard the thud behind him, he swung around, ready to strike.
Nikandros stiffened, not moving as the lovely creature before him held his fist in her hand. A silver clasp of a stylized butterfly kept a hood to her forehead. He couldn’t see her features beneath the tight mask and the cloak shaded the color of her eyes.
A tight gray body suit hugged every one of her curves, leaving nothing to the imagination but the texture of her skin. A black weapons belt hung low on her hips. Her waist was slender, curving delightfully up. The cape hid her upper body from view. The sexiest vinyl boots he had ever seen in his centuries of living molded over her calves. Nikandros smiled in manly appreciation.
He’d never been so turned on in his life--or, at least since earlier in the park. The woman blinked, looking more fully at him. He swore her eyes were flecked with purple.
Silk grabbed the hand that flew at her, surprised that the scientist would attack. Usually such men didn’t have it in them. Without warning, she froze, recognizing the handsome face. Her breath caught in her throat.
Silk looked the attractive man over, from his firm parted lips to his solid dark eyes that studied her. He had been in her thoughts since their meeting in the park. She desperately wanted to kiss him, wanted to fulfill the strange fantasies she had of him. But then, something odd happened. His eyes began to shift and change with red, just a tinting. If she hadn’t have seen him out during the day, she would have thought him a vampire.
Silk shook herself from the depths of his sultry dark gaze. The image of the naked pleasure droid came to mind to taunt her, as did her dreams of this man earlier in the day. She had the strangest urge to see if his body could even compare to the robot upstairs or to the fantasies in her head.
Unable to stop herself, she released his hand and twirled. The silk from her fingers pulled his arm around. In one swift motion, she had his wrist pinned behind his back in a silken web.
Nikandros froze, knowing he could get out of her trap if he wanted to. He’d have to reveal his powers to do it, but he could. He didn’t move. He didn’t want to. The action had brought her body close to him and she was pressed fully along his frame. Though her eyes were hard, the body molding into him was anything but.
Silk allowed herself to feel him, never knowing why she let temptation overcome her. Beneath the lab coat, she could feel that he was all solid man--from the definition of his abs to the rock-hard feel of his thighs against hers. To her amazement, she felt his body twitch and rise between her legs. His manhood press
ed full into her, giving away its master’s thoughts.
Fear, she would have expected from him. But this?
"This is private property," he whispered, his voice dipping low to send chills over her. He felt her reaction, smelled it in her. His lips brushed forward to where her mouth would have been under her disguise.
"Then I guess I’m trespassing," she murmured back.
Nikandros swore he saw her mask shift with a smile. He knew she felt his body’s response to her and yet she didn’t back away.
"What do you want?" he asked. Vivid images of conquering her over every surface of the laboratory came to mind. "Why are you here?"
Feeling the insistent shove of his rising center as it burned firmly into her hip, she collapsed her body against him and whispered, "Not for this, sweetheart."
Silk swung her hand around him, cocooning him faster than he could think to protest. Grabbing a handheld computer off the desk, she turned at a full run, leaping into the air as she flipped onto the top walkway.
Nikandros broke his arms free just in time to see her body swinging over the side rail. Giving chase, he leapt behind her. His lab coat fluttered to the ground as he stripped of it in midair.
Silk dashed through the living room. With a press of a button, she disarmed the front lawn security and was out the front door. Nikandros cursed as he came from the lab. Dr. Nathaniel’s maid unit sensed his presence and switched on. With a press of her cleavage beneath a skimpy French maid uniform, she tried to get in his way to offer him a drink.
Nikandros pushed her aside. The maid gasped. Her mouth widened with affront. His eyes growing molten with red outrage, he ignored the machine as he ran out the front door. His vision pierced through the darkness with ease, only to stop at the cloaked figure hiding in the shadows. He growled, running up the side of the tree to soar over the fence. Seeing her blurring body, he went after her.
Silk detected the moment he saw her hiding and jumped down from the gate. With a supernatural speed, she began to take off down the quiet residential street. She tired to lose him, jumping down an impossible side cliff with the aid of her gossamer threads. He was right behind her, springing without fear as if he could glide through the air with ease. Seeing a hover bus, she hopped on top of it, clinging to the roof as it sped down the street. Attaching herself with the thread from her fingers, she turned over onto her back to ease herself down the side.
Nikandros, his red gaze flashing fire, landed on top of her. Silk jolted. Nikandros’ body came hard against her as the bus hastened forward over the city streets. Everything blurred along their sides until trees and houses were no longer recognizable.
Silk didn’t dare let her fingers go, lest she lose her grip. If she did, they would both go flying to their deaths. Nikandros’ fingers curled strong and sure around her wrists. She tried to buck him off of her, but he merely bounced. She struggled against him, grunting to be free.
Nikandros growled. It was a horrific noise meant to drive fear into her. The woman merely continued to fight him. In her efforts, his hips worked between her thighs until his body pressed intimately into her.
Feeling the hard length of him digging and grinding as the bus bounced in the air, she froze. Desire swam into her racing blood, heating her with a liquid excitement she had never felt before. Her heart thundered wildly in her chest with the thrill of the fight, the adrenaline of his chase, the passion in his loins pressed thoroughly into hers.
"Who are you?" he asked in a frustrated growl.
"Silk," she answered simply, not stopping to think.
Nikandros sensed her body heating. Unable to help himself, masculine hunger overtook him and he dropped a hand to her covered breast. He pressed his lips to her masked mouth. Silk moaned in surprise. His lips parted, as if he could taste her through her disguise. His fingers boldly caressed her, as if they could part her from her clothing. He could find no seam in her outfit from which to liberate her.
Suddenly, the bus jolted to a stop. Nikandros flew forward, flipping over, off her body. They were in the city, next to an abandoned bus stop. Silk didn’t wait. She rolled off the side and disappeared into the night. When Nikandros sat back up, he gripped his computer in his hand and watched the last fluttering of her cape.
"We will meet again, Silk," he swore, his body flowing with a potent, animalistic hunger. His hair was tousled from the windy ride.
As he rolled over the side, the bus passengers gasped to see him. They hadn’t heard a thing while in the soundproofed interior.
Clearing his throat, Nikandros smoothed his hair and patted down his clothes. Giving the onlookers a crooked smile, he shrugged and stated, "Almost missed the bus."
* * * *
Silk ran until her lungs nearly exploded. The bus had taken her miles away from home. Glowering, she reached into her pocket and grabbed a video phone. Covering the camera lens, she called home for a ride. Minutes later, her limo pulled up to take her back to the St. James Estate. She climbed inside before the robotic driver could get out to open her door.
Pulling off her mask, Quinlan frowned. Her hair was matted to her head from her excursion. What was Nick Grant doing at Dr. Nathaniel’s laboratory? And what exactly was he anyway? Who was he?
Thinking of him, her body trembled. Oh, but he had felt wickedly sinful against her. Even now she could feel the hard press of him. Quinlan was sure she’d be up for the rest of the night feeling him in her memory.
Why hadn’t she just bought a pleasure droid? She’d been tempted a few times. But in the end she knew that, though it might soothe the ache in her body, it wouldn’t be able to soothe the loneliness in her heart.
Nick Grant was a mystery. Did he know who she was? Was their chance encounter in the park just a coincidence? Quinlan didn’t believe in coincidences and wasn’t about to start now. Nick was up to something, she just couldn’t figure out what.
Smiling, she thought, But I know how to find out.
Quinlan reached to her side to pull out the handheld computer. It wasn’t there. Cursing, her eyes narrowed. Even as she hated him, he intrigued her. It had been a long time since anyone or anything had quickened her blood like he did when he touched her. "Damn you, Nick Grant. If you want to play, oh, we’ll play."
Chapter Three
"This collection is superb, Quinlan," said Henry Thompson, head of the Genetic Science Museum. Henry was an older, balding gentleman with beady little eyes that gave Quinlan the chills. Right now those eyes were looking over the glass cases that lined the front hall of the castellated mansion home.
Musicians played old ballroom dances--waltzes, merengues, allemandes. Some couples danced, others strolled out into the lit gardens. Quinlan had robotic guards at every door and several between the large main hall and her father’s laboratory. The robots, however, were programmed to respond only to hostility so that whoever wanted to break in would have an easy time of it. What everyone didn’t know was that her father’s laboratory was completely empty--except for some bogus documents she had written herself.
Continuing, Henry said, "They will be a great addition to the museum’s collection. Your father would have been proud."
Quinlan smiled for the man, slowly holding up her glass of champagne. Her home was filled with the most elite members of the scientific community--all of them clamoring to get a look at the famous scientist’s daughter.
"Miss St. James, a photograph, please!"
Quinlan turned her back as a man pulled a camera from his jacket. A flash went off, getting only the long line of her naked back in a sleek red silk dress. Henry Thompson frowned as a robotic security guard grabbed the guest and forcibly escorted him out. He stepped a little too close to Quinlan’s back, lifting his arm to belatedly protect her from the cameraman.
Quinlan pulled artfully away from Henry and kept her face pleasant as if nothing had happened.
"This collection looks incomplete. Have some of the papers been lost?" asked a man Quinlan recognized instantly.
She looked into his cool brown eyes, trying to gauge him. There was nothing in the vacuous depths--nothing but greed and an overabundance of pride.
"I’m sorry, you are?" Quinlan asked, pretending she didn’t know.
"Dr. Thomas Nathaniel," he said.
"Oh," said a woman with a shrill, grating voice. "Weren’t you the man whose home was broken into?"
"My laboratory actually," said Dr. Nathaniel.
"Did they discover who?" asked the loud woman with a flick of her richly decorated fingers.
"Just a criminal in need of a microscope," he laughed pretentiously. The surrounding group joined in. "My wife was alone at the time and didn’t see a thing."
"How dreadful for her!" gasped the woman.
Quinlan hid her face into her glass, remembering just how ‘alone’ the doctor’s wife had been. Looking over Dr. Nathaniel’s excessively thin frame, she guessed Mrs. Nathaniel much preferred to be alone with her Adonis model pleasure droid.
Quinlan tried not to blush. She had looked him up in a catalog late the night before as she considered buying one. Only, as she flipped through the pages, none of the droids struck her fancy. She kept thinking of Nick Grant. A flesh and blood man sounded much more appealing than a bloodless machine.
"I worked with your father right before his death, Miss St. James," said Dr. Nathaniel. "I don’t see some of his later projects here."
"You are right, of course," Quinlan said, noticing how ears perked up at the admission. "I didn’t think it necessary to display his incomplete works. They are no good to anyone."
"But, maybe his research could be continued," said Henry, his eyes lighting with interest at the thought. "What better testament to your father than to see his work finished?"
"My father’s later years were spent on fanciful dreams, Dr. Thompson. I believe he would like to be remembered for the advances he made in genetic engineering. It is that work which I have given to the public he tried to serve," Quinlan said. A murmur of appreciation went up from around the group and she quietly excused herself with a gracious bow of her coiffed head.