The Pleasure Principle

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The Pleasure Principle Page 2

by Calista Fox


  In this particular chase, his first course of action had been to swipe and decode the coordinates of the map she’d downloaded. D.T. had worked through the puzzle for almost as long as she had, but he’d succeeded first. He’d discovered the location of the gold months ahead of Gizelle. And though he’d waited until today to recover the bountiful treasure, he’d been planning this hunt all along. Knowing she would want the gold. Knowing she would eventually figure out where it was hidden. Knowing she would do anything to get it back when she discovered it was missing.

  A devious grin played on his lips as a warm, muggy breeze blew in through the wall of open floor-to-ceiling windows. D.T. mentally patted himself on the back for his coup. Today, he’d stolen a boatload of gold from underneath Gizelle’s nose. That made him damned clever and damned stupid at the same time.

  His grin widened as he imagined her reaction to showing up two minutes too late to recover the gold. She’d be furious. Homicidal, probably. He chuckled softly.

  Crossing to his massive desk, he reached for the vintage Scotch in the elegant cut-crystal decanter and poured a healthy splash into a matching glass. A toast was in order. Sure, there’d be hell to pay when Gizelle finally caught up to him—where the devil was she, anyway? But he’d deal with her wrath when it came his way. He just couldn’t fathom why she wasn’t beating down his door this very second. Where else would she search for him? She had to be on the planet somewhere, trying to find him. She’d never let a slight like this, or such a massive fortune, go.

  He had all this in mind when he sank into his chair and turned it to face the ocean, reminiscent of Earth eons ago. The Pleasure Planet replicated the days of yore and then took the peaceful times to all-new levels with atmospheric enhancements. The four moons, which cast shimmering gold rays across the water and backlit the mountain ranges in the distance. The damp, floral-scented air that teased the senses. The vintage quaff and nosh, such as his Scotch, that intoxicated the mind, body and spirit. The decadent pleasure offered at the Pleasure Clubs and just about everywhere else on the planet.

  All of this gave those who’d fled ravaged Earth and the embattled Milky Way Galaxy a sense of peace and freedom. Beauty and life restored. It was no wonder those who could afford to live or take extended vacations on PX330 found sanctuary here. An escape from the pain caused by nature and war on their own planet. An immersion in pleasure that helped to rejuvenate the soul. And the belief that good would eventually conquer evil, a notion D.T. toyed with on an hourly basis.

  Enjoying a few quiet moments with nothing but the sound of crashing waves to fill the night air had him lost in thought. But not so lost that he didn’t still dwell on Gizelle. Wasn’t the least bit surprised, in fact, when he felt the sharp tip of her dagger press against the side of his neck. Lightly at first, but then she seemed compelled to push a bit harder until she pierced the skin. Not a bad cut by any means, but it caused D.T. to wince as he felt a drop of warm blood on his skin.

  “Please tell me that thing’s on stun.” He was careful not to make any sudden movements. Gizelle’s dagger was dangerous enough. The laser blast that shot out of the tip with the touch of a button yielded a neat and tidy death. Excluding the blood and gore, of course.

  “It’s not,” she said. “And that shouldn’t surprise you.”

  “Pissed, I see.”

  “No, D.T., I was pissed two years ago when you said you wouldn’t come back to Earth with me and fight for our galaxy. I was pissed six months ago when you demanded I stay here with you on this hedonistic planet instead of serving a cause I believe in. One you should believe in, too.”

  The tip of her dagger pressed harder against his thick neck. Crossing Gizelle wasn’t child’s play. Just one more thing he loved about her.

  “Now I’m furious,” she continued on in a tight voice. “Even more so since I’ve spent half the night looking for you in Pleasure Clubs.”

  “Well, then.” He relaxed his muscles to alleviate some of the pressure from the blade. “Don’t miss the jugular, sweetheart.”

  “If I did,” she said in the haughty tone he’d never heard until the night he’d wanted her to abandon her post with the Protective Forces, “it would only be to start someplace lower.”

  Ouch. That would hurt. Because he was rather fond of his balls, he tried to placate her. “Clever of you to figure out the coordinates of the gold.”

  “Greedy of you to steal it.”

  “What can I say?” He knew there was triumph and gloating in his voice. “It was one of those challenges too tempting to pass up. It’s not everyday I get to compete against someone as cunning as myself.”

  The blade fell away from his neck. D.T. dared to take the opportunity to look at her. Gizelle’s long, light brown hair fell in soft waves around her slender shoulders. She wore an alluring outfit that, for the moment, he had to ignore because there was something more pressing to deal with than how breathtakingly beautiful she was.

  Gizelle stood beside him with a look of incredulity on her pretty face. No, it was worse than that. The words you rat bastard pirate seemed to linger on her tongue, unspoken for the moment.

  He was smart enough to not make any sudden movements. Turning slowly in his chair, he locked his gaze on Gizelle’s. She stared at him as though he truly were the scum of the century. The biggest disgrace in two galaxies. Maybe three. And that cut to the quick. For the moment, he overlooked the disdain he saw.

  “Look,” D.T. began. “I can explain about the gold. In fact, it’s all yours, baby. I didn’t steal it to keep it.”

  “Liar!” Her fury was quick and vehement. Her arm shot out and that damned blade was pressed against his skin once more at his Adam’s apple. But D.T. wasn’t one to be toyed with for long. In a swift move, he caught her unaware and struck the underside of her wrist with his knuckles. Her dagger went sailing across the room. D.T. felt the slight nick on his throat from the jerk of the blade, but he knew it wasn’t serious.

  While Gizelle was still off guard, he grabbed her other wrist and pulled her to him. Losing her balance on the tall heels she was obviously unaccustomed to wearing, she literally fell into his lap.

  Exactly where he wanted her.

  Well, maybe not exactly where he wanted her. But it was a good start.

  “First, let’s keep the sharp objects away from the flesh and all my favorite body parts, huh, sweetheart?”

  “I still have my laser gun.”

  D.T.’s teeth ground together. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ellie. I told you the treasure was yours.”

  “As if I’d believe you.” She glared at him. “And don’t call me that. You gave up all rights to terms of endearment a long time ago.”

  His eyes locked with hers, his own temper flaring. “Because I asked you to stay with me? Really, that was such a cruel and unfair request?”

  She opened her mouth to protest, he was sure, but then promptly closed it. D.T. raised an eyebrow. He waited a spell.

  Finally, she said, “All you care about is yourself. If you’re offering up that huge bounty, there have to be strings attached. I know you too well, D.T.”

  His jaw tightened. For a few moments, he debated what to say. What to do. Because she was right, of course.

  She shifted in his lap in an attempt to get away, but he didn’t relinquish his hold on her. He clutched her wrist, though not so tight that it would hurt. His other arm snaked around her waist. D.T. settled more comfortably in his oversized chair, and Gizelle had no choice but to situate herself, too. Her hip pressed against his groin, and her shoulder rested against his chest.

  He inhaled her enticing scent. The fragrance was fresh and crisp like the cleansing aroma of a light rainfall. It reminded him of early summer on renewed Earth, pre-war, when the grass turned deep green and vibrant wildflowers dotted the hills. He hadn’t really wanted to leave that home as a young man, except for the burning desire he’d had to help protect the planet from the invading force.

  Her mere scent
reminded him of simpler times. It stirred a sense of innocence and naïvete every human being possessed before coming of age, before the reality of adulthood and combat and tragedy tainted all of the optimistic views of youth.

  Suddenly, D.T. wanted nothing more than to end this argument with Gizelle and somehow find their way back to where they’d been when they’d first met. That coveted nothing-matters-at-this-very-moment-except-you-and-I phase. Before they’d started talking about the war and she’d told him what she did in the name of freedom and he hadn’t told her what he did. When they’d left battles and politics out of the equation, everything had been perfect between them.

  Thinking about those passionate nights made D.T.’s erection grow. It didn’t help that Gizelle’s heat and proximity worked wicked magic on his body.

  “What the hell are you wearing?” he managed to ask, though his voice was tight with a sudden need for her. She distracted him on so many levels.

  “Clothes, D.T.”

  He cocked his head at her, particularly because her sarcasm was dulled by the hint of desire that crept into her voice.

  “I wasn’t planning to stay over on this wretched planet. I just came for the gold. And I needed something befitting to wear to the Pleasure Clubs.” She all but sneered.

  He narrowed his eyes. “What the hell were you doing there?”

  “What would I be doing there, D.T.? Looking for you, you arrogant ass! Hoping you weren’t showering Pleasure Providers with gold bars like they were drops of rain in a torrential downpour!”

  He scowled at her. How frivolous she thought he could be. How shallow. How selfish. Then he realized he hadn’t done much lately to prove otherwise, so he couldn’t exactly hold a grudge. Instead, he latched onto the way her green eyes flashed with fury and something else. Something that looked so very close to envy that it made D.T. laugh out loud.

  “You’re jealous!”

  She pushed away from him with a huff, but he had a strong hold on her. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Of all the idiotic things to say to me, D.T.!” She glared at him with murder in her eyes. Which made him laugh even harder.

  “Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he said as he came around. “It’s okay to admit it. In fact, I was a little jealous myself today.”

  Her glare turned suspicious. “What on Earth have you ever been jealous of?”

  His jaw tightened for a moment. How easily the tables had turned on him. But fair was fair, wasn’t it? “Who’s your new friend?”

  Gizelle was the one to laugh this time. “You’re jealous of Trey?”

  He merely stared at her, expecting an answer.

  She grinned at him, her irritation seeming to drift away with triumph. He was not fool enough to believe her levity would last for long, but it was a nice change of pace.

  “I just met him this morning. At port. He was for hire, so I hired him.”

  “To help you recover the gold?” he eyed her with suspicion. “And…?”

  A playful look crossed her pretty face, but a hint of lust also crept into her eyes, assuring D.T. she found her new crewmate desirable. “He’s not that kind of hired hand.”

  “But you’re attracted to him.”

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “He has a certain look that’s appealing to me.”

  D.T. was not so blinded by the thrill of the chase to have missed the fact that Trey bore a striking resemblance to him. The thought stroked his ego.

  Hmm. He found it rather intriguing the way this whole situation had played out. Well, with the exception of the blood she’d felt compelled to draw earlier. But it was dried now, so he let the insult slide. His thoughts lay elsewhere.

  D.T.’s eyes raked over her body from the thin strip of black leather encircling her slender neck to the sheer white blouse with two satin ribbons knotted in a bow just below her full breasts. Her short black skirt veed high on the left side, leaving a gaping slit to the top of her bare thigh, revealing creamy white flesh his fingers itched to touch and his tongue begged to explore. The ruffled hems of the skirt and blouse added a delicate, feminine touch to the seductive ensemble. But the crowning jewel was the sheer material of the blouse. Through it, D.T. could see the dusky circles of her areolas and the tightened peaks of her bare nipples.

  He groaned deep in the back of his throat as he took in the full view of her. She’d dressed for seduction, a means to an end. She’d come for the gold, prepared to do what she must to get it from him. Just thinking of the lengths she’d go to in order to get her treasure, the erotic things she’d do to him, the uninhibited things she’d allow him to do to her…. Lust raged within D.T., sending a roaring heat wave through him from head to toe, specifically targeting his cock, which hardened to an unbearable degree.

  But his passion didn’t cloud his mind. Not too much, anyway.

  “Did you intend to use Trey as reinforcement if your attempt to seduce me for the gold didn’t succeed?”

  “Whatever it takes,” she said in a tone that sounded inviting and provocative to him.

  The images that slipped into his mind of their own volition both enraged and excited him. D.T. had no intention of ever sharing her with another man. Then again, visions of Gizelle in the throes of passion, being pleasured by not just one, but two men—who to his comfort looked remarkably similar in features and stature—made him even harder. He could hear her lusty moans and her cries of pleasure as they both filled her completely and made her come over and over again.

  His grip on her tightened. Maybe out of possessiveness, maybe because he didn’t want her to slip away tonight.

  He wanted her all to himself. But he’d be lying if he denied that thoughts of doubling her pleasure still lingered in his mind.

  “I’m not sharing you tonight,” he said in a tight voice. A tone of finality. No arguing, no negotiating.

  “What makes you think I’m staying? You already said I could have the treasure. I plan to collect it and be on my way.”

  D.T.’s anger sparked again and he all but dumped her out of his lap.

  “What the hell!” She found her footing quickly on her high heels. But he’d clearly surprised her with his sudden rebuff.

  Standing to his full six-foot-five-inch height—effectively towering over—he snatched up the small, silver remote on the corner of his desk and then thrust his hand out to her. “Hover control. Gold’s in my bedroom. Go get it and take it with you. I’ll stay right here. I won’t interfere.”

  She eyed him curiously. Again with doubt. “You’re giving it to me that easily?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “There’s nothing easy about this. I stole that gold for a reason.”

  Her green eyes narrowed on him. “Why do you need it? What could be more important than using it to help the Protective Forces fight the war in our galaxy? You’re an Earthling, too, D.T. What could be more important than helping to save our planet? Our people? Our galaxy?”

  D.T.’s jaw tightened for a moment. “I stole it to lure you here.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and he wasn’t sure if it was a defensive move or a means to cover herself. Either way, it effectively broke what was surely a heated look on his face. Disappointment oozed through him, making him scowl.

  “You really can believe me, Ellie,” he finally said, sincerity in his voice.

  And for whatever reason, she faltered. Her mouth gaped open. She stared at him a moment, and he could see in her eyes that she really, truly wanted to believe that he was offering her the treasure with no strings attached.

  D.T. needed her to accept it. Now. Before he said anything else. Before he gave in to his need to touch her. He didn’t want his desire for her to be misconstrued in any way.

  Settle the business first. Then get down to the pleasure.

  That way, she’d know his true intentions. Those intentions might not be wholly noble—because, hot hell, did he want her! But they were honest.

  Tentatively reaching out a hand, she took t
he remote from him. She stared at it a moment, confusion on her pretty face. Then her eyes lifted to meet his.

  “I just don’t get you.” She almost sounded sad. “I mean, you purposely push my buttons. Then you do something nice. And when that’s not happening, you….” She shook her head and let out a long sigh as pink patches stained her porcelain cheeks.

  D.T. took a step forward, closing the gap between them. His gaze locked with hers. “I make you hotter than Earth’s sun?”

  Gizelle sucked in a deep, sharp breath. Held it for a moment. Then let it out slowly. Shaking her head, she said, “Worse than that, actually.”

  D.T.’s brow jerked upward and he knew his look was a lascivious one. “Is that really such a bad thing?”

  ***

  Trey stepped back into the shadows cast by the four moons, their golden streams of reflected light shimmering brilliantly across the smooth water that lapped against the shore outside D.T.’s dwelling. The constantly shifting emotions between Gizelle and D.T. had made Trey teeter between stepping in to get the seduction moving in the right direction and railing at them both for being two of the most obstinate, misguided people he’d ever met. They denied everything about each other that drew them together in the first place. Their determination, their steel-resolve, their need to be a part of something bigger than themselves. The need to help their people and serve a higher cause in whatever capacity possible.

  Couldn’t they see how similar they were? Divided because they’d taken different paths, but still connected on so many levels.

  As Trey watched D.T. brush his fingers over Gizelle’s cheek, he hoped—willed, actually—that they would call a truce for the evening. D.T. was giving her the gold. Trey had heard the entire exchange. And he understood now why D.T. had swiped it in the first place, just minutes before she was about to recover it. It didn’t take a space shuttle scientist to figure that one out.

  But there was more to D.T.’s motives than he’d let on. Trey could sense it. Did Gizelle realize she wasn’t the seductress this evening? Clearly, D.T. was letting her think she was, but as he stepped toward her and pressed his body to hers, Trey got the distinct impression D.T. was moving in for the kill.

 

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