The Pleasure Principle

by Calista Fox

  Now was the chance for Gizelle to even the score. And secure an added bonus, getting the General to take up the command he was born to lead.

  As Trey’s kiss deepened, she couldn’t help but think of how D.T. would respond to seeing an intimate moment like this. But something else occurred to Gizelle, too, a wicked thought that really had no business infiltrating her mind, but which had taken up residency earlier in the day and continued to demand her attention because of Trey’s skilled hands on her body and the erotic dance his tongue engaged hers in.

  Making love with both D.T. and Trey would be one seriously mind-blowing experience. And it just might be the only way to forgive D.T. for his decadent Pleasure Planet indulgences.

  She moved her hands to Trey’s chest and shoved lightly to break their incredibly hot kiss. “Okay, stud. You’ve proven your point.” She was breathless, in fact. “As well as your value in this situation.”

  Trey grinned at her as he stepped away.

  Gizelle didn’t dare stand, for fear her knees would knock together and her legs would collapse beneath her following such a stellar kiss.

  “Now.” She sucked in some much-needed oxygen. “We need to find D.T. I’m sure after our argument, he’s sought entertainment.” She rolled her eyes, but fought off the wave of jealousy that threatened to wash over her. Business was business. That was what this was. She had a mission to accomplish and regardless of whether she found D.T. in the arms of a Pleasure Provider or two, she would see this through.

  Because there was something in the way he’d kissed her, touched her, made love to her, that told Gizelle he really would care if he saw her in the arms of another man. How vehemently he reacted—and what he’d do to remedy the situation—she couldn’t guarantee. So that meant she’d have to pull out all the stops, too.

  Steeling herself for what would surely be the most decadent night of her life, Gizelle finally found the strength to stand without wobbling on her tall heels. She pointed an accusatory finger at Trey. “Stop gloating. It was just a kiss.”

  “A prelude,” he countered with another sexy look, “to victory.”

  “Yes.” Gizelle latched onto the sentiment. “Victory. That’s what this is all about.”

  And her patriotism and sense of duty helped her to believe she was making a much-needed sacrifice for the survival of an entire galaxy and its inhabitants.

  Some sacrifice.

  Chapter Seven

  D.T. had had enough Scotch for the evening, but he took another sip anyway. It was really unfortunate that he wasn’t drunk. He should be by now, but there was some sort of internal programming that caused him to remain alert and attuned to his surroundings even though he’d downed a good half-bottle between the liquor he’d had at home and the refills he’d had thus far at the Pleasure Club.

  As his wrist rotated slowly, causing the whisky to swirl in the expensive crystal glass, he tried to lose himself in the sensual music that wafted through the club, mixed with the erotic sounds around him. D.T. sat at one of the few small, intimate tables in the lounge. Mostly, the dimly lit room was filled with dark blue sofas and oversized chairs. Plush and inviting, and nearly all of them were occupied by couples, threesomes or foursomes indulging their darkest passions and wildest fantasies.

  The soft, glittery rays from the chandeliers cast shadows over scantily clad and fully naked bodies respectively. The inky blackness crept up the mahogany wood paneling of the walls. This could have been any nightclub on Earth a century ago. D.T. was a history buff and he liked all things vintage, not just his Scotch. This particular club was elegant and sophisticated, matching the clientele. It was unlike the majority of the Pleasure Clubs on PX330, which was the exact reason D.T. preferred it. Rather than having loud music with a hard-driving beat, harsh, multi-colored lighting, and furniture and fixtures indicative of today’s cutting-edge style, D.T.’s club of choice was more subdued. Upscale and tasteful. Yet still erotically stimulating.

  All of which made him think of Gizelle. He had to shake his head from the crowded thoughts, images of making love with her earlier in the night. Too bad the moans coming from all around him reminded him of hers. They were soft and feminine, filled with pleasure and desire, mingled with a sense of urgency. As he glanced over his shoulder, D.T. caught sight of a couple occupying one of the large chairs. The woman sat perched on the edge, her long, bare legs spread wide and draped over the arms of the chair. The man between her legs licked her pussy in determined strokes that seemed to keep her in a constant state of arousal. With her head thrown back and her bare breasts jiggling slightly, she looked ready for a good, hard fuck.

  D.T.’s cock twitched. Not because he wanted to be the one to fuck her, but because he couldn’t help but think about Gizelle and how passionately she’d responded to him tonight. She’d rode him slowly at first, building their desire to the point of boiling. And then she’d taken him deep in her tight, wet pussy. Sweet lord, he’d wanted to come that very second. By contrast, he’d wanted to fuck her all night long. Would have, if she hadn’t gotten off on her tangent, determined to find General Dylan Tanner and bribe him to return to Earth with her.

  “Fuck,” he mumbled.

  Hadn’t she blown out of his dwelling in record time—with the gold, no less—when he’d refused to return to the war?

  D.T. slammed his glass of Scotch and silently prayed it would finally, finally, numb his senses.

  No such luck. When he lifted his gaze from the glass and saw Gizelle standing a mere four or five feet away from him, his cock swelled and his heart hammered in his chest.

  She wore that incredibly sexy outfit that was blatantly revealing. Her rosy nipples were tight and pressed against the sheer fabric of her blouse. Her long, light brown hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves, making his fingers itch to stroke the silky strands as he kissed her long and hard.

  Settling a little more comfortably in his chair, he said, “You can tease me with that outfit all you want, sweetheart. I’m not going back to our galaxy.”

  “I’ll give you points for being so damned obstinate,” she said. “But you lose some for your extreme arrogance. I’m not here for you, D.T.” Her gaze lifted above his head and a sexy smile tipped her full, luscious, red-tinted lips. “I’m here for him.”

  It took a good deal of effort for D.T. to tear his gaze from the beautiful sight before him, but curiosity got the best of him. He glanced over his shoulder again and found a tall, broad-framed man stalk forward with purpose. It was the man D.T. had seen Gizelle with earlier. Trey, she’d called him. A man who looked disturbingly familiar, as though D.T. were looking in a mirror. The unruly, midnight-colored hair and onyx eyes the stranger possessed could very well have made him D.T.’s twin.

  And the wicked glint in those eyes, as they landed hungrily on Gizelle, as if no one else in the club existed, made D.T.’s temper flare. What the hell was this?

  D.T.’s own black eyes narrowed as he watched the stranger approach Gizelle, wrap an arm around her small waist and turn her so her back was to D.T. Then he boldly kissed Gizelle, his mouth crushing over hers, his tongue obviously delving deep.

  Heat and anger exploded within D.T. He nearly jumped to his feet and tore the two apart, except he’d never created a scene in one of the Pleasure Clubs before, and he couldn’t afford to do so now. Though he’d always allowed the Pleasure Providers to bring him cocktails and flirt outrageously with him—even letting them curl up in his lap from time to time to perpetuate the façade—he’d been very careful to keep his appearance casual. Interested enough in the women and the booze and the pleasure, but detached enough so that he didn’t draw too much unwanted attention to himself. When he slipped tokens to a Pleasure Provider, no one but her knew it was for intel, not sex.

  D.T. reminded himself that he had an image to protect. A role to play. And going off half-cocked because Gizelle was pissed at him—and had found a near dead-ringer to make him jealous—was not a smart thing.

 
; And yet, damn, how the rage welled inside him. Fast and furious. His fingers itched to grab his laser gun and blast a hole right between the stranger’s legs.

  Instead, D.T. lifted his hand and signaled one of the Pleasure Providers to bring him another Scotch.

  Hell, he knew what Gizelle was up to, even it was still such a foreign concept to him. He was strong enough to rise above this new threat. He’d been tortured routinely since he was sixteen, from violent means of “persuasion” from the enemy to try to glean information, as well as from the constant reminder of having lost his family and friends at the hands of the Gyllian fighters. He could withstand unfathomable levels of pain. This would just be one more.

  As a petite, dark-haired Pleasure Provider set a full glass in front of him, D.T.’s jaw clenched. He waved her away, knowing she’d add his drink to his tab. His eyes remained locked on Gizelle as Trey continued to kiss her.

  His jaw ground tight. In truth, D.T. liked to think it was impossible for him to get riled over another man kissing Gizelle, but he had to admit, that earlier jealousy was coming back full force. And it mingled with a disturbing feeling of arousal as he recalled the previous images that had infiltrated his mind. The vision of both him and Trey pleasuring Gizelle.

  As D.T. reached for his glass, he realized drinking was going to be damn-near impossible with the lockjaw he had going on. In fact, every single muscle in his body was tense with indecision. The need to pummel Gizelle’s “date” warred with the need to make love to her again. Whether Trey was involved or not.

  When the kiss finally ended, D.T. felt some measure of control return to him. Perhaps Gizelle only meant to do something bold like this to get his attention. Then she’d send the stranger on his way and try to reason with D.T. Try to sway him, make him see her side of things, agree to her plight.

  Assuming her plan set him back on course. Made him feel infinitely more grounded.

  He took a short sip of his drink as Trey’s arms slipped from Gizelle’s waist and she turned to face D.T. With desire glowing in her green eyes—for him or for Trey?—she said, “It could’ve been different between us, D.T.”

  “Yeah,” he said, his tone tight and clipped. “Because of the war, one or the both of us could be dead. Personally, I prefer we don’t travel that path.”

  She gave a slight shake of her head and long, loose curls fell across her forehead, making D.T. want to sweep them back so her beautiful face remained fully revealed. “We could have worked together. But you’re too selfish for that, aren’t you?”

  D.T. didn’t take the bait. Didn’t have time to, really. Suddenly, Trey’s arms were around Gizelle’s waist again as he pressed himself against her back. He whispered something in her ear that made her smile sheepishly and blush vibrantly.

  “Trey,” she whispered before ducking her head.

  D.T.’s fist tightened around the glass of Scotch. Trey better not think for one second he was going to take Gizelle from D.T.

  Trey’s lips grazed her neck and her body trembled slightly. Then Trey’s hands left her waist and eased slowly up her sides. Then forward till they cupped her breasts.

  D.T.’s jaw clenched. It was all he could do not to jump out of his chair and take Trey down.

  Don’t make a scene, he reminded himself. Subconsciously, he glanced around, trying to discern if anyone took note of the little jealousy scene playing out. The last thing D.T. needed was to have his cover blown because he’d lost his cool.

  Well, no. The absolute last thing he needed was to watch some other guy screw Gizelle. Anger boiled within him, making his entire body tense.

  Just as Gizelle’s eyes locked with his, Trey’s fingers worked the strings below her breasts. The bow untied and her blouse drifted open, revealing all the creamy white flesh and large, beautiful breasts D.T. longed to touch and taste.

  And that was when he realized her true intent. Son of a bitch. She was going to put him over the proverbial barrel. Use sex and his intense attraction to her against him! Ah, the seduction plot, again. Only this time, she really had brought her reinforcement, a man who clearly wanted her and was willing to pleasure her right here in front of everyone in the club, including D.T.

  But, Goddamn it, D.T. wouldn’t let it go that far. He set his glass down and was just about to stand when Trey’s hands smoothed over Gizelle’s breasts, palming them. Her head fell back on his broad shoulder as his mouth went back to work on her neck, licking and nipping at it until Gizelle moaned deeply. Her eyelids fluttered closed.

  D.T.’s groin tightened as his anger brewed more violently. Both pleasure and pain were created by seeing Gizelle turned on by Trey and by watching her beautiful body bared. D.T.’s head spun. Maybe the Scotch had finally kicked in.

  Indeed, D.T. seemed almost paralyzed in arduous fascination as Trey’s fingers toyed with her hard nipples before sliding down her flat belly and disappearing into the loose waistband of her skirt. Trey slowly shoved the skirt toward Gizelle’s knees. The material dropped to the floor and pooled around her tall heels.

  She wore no panties. He noticed that first, and second, the undeniable beauty that stood before him. She was so gorgeous, she stole his breath. And all rational thought. D.T. was unable to move, unable to put a stop to this before it went any farther.

  As Gizelle’s arms lifted and her fingers reached behind her to twine in Trey’s hair, his hands working on her breasts, D.T. swallowed hard. The eroticism of the lounge and its sexually charged atmosphere washed over D.T. along with the throaty moans and pleasure-filled cries that echoed in the club as the Pleasure Providers sought and gave their own brand of ecstasy. Their environment clearly had the same effect on Gizelle. They were both lost in a sensuality D.T. was certain neither one of them expected possible.

  He himself had never dreamed of seeing Gizelle in a place like this, giving herself over to the hedonism and decadence she’d so vehemently protested all this time. But she’d obviously checked her inhibitions at the door. She wasn’t holding back.

  As he considered all of this, plus the fact that he was captivated by the erotic scene before him, the strangest thing happened to D.T. One of Trey’s hands slid down Gizelle’s stomach again until his fingers reached the juncture between her parted legs, and D.T. didn’t reach for his laser gun, as he’d wanted to do earlier. Trey slowly rubbed her labia and then targeted her clit, making her fingers clench in his hair and her teeth catch her bottom lip, and D.T. found himself completely and utterly captivated.

  Sure, in the sane part of his mind, D.T. knew what Gizelle was up to. And he really, truly wanted to put an end to it, because he didn’t think he could continue watching this scenario play out without wanting to strangle Trey.

  And yet, God, Gizelle was so beautiful. And it was obvious she responded to Trey because he looked like D.T. in every way, including size and dark demeanor. D.T. found himself fantasizing that, with her eyes closed, she was imagining D.T.’s hands on her body, his lips on her neck. Not Trey’s. It was an easy way to hang onto the thinning threads of sanity.

  Mesmerized, D.T. continued to stare at her, taking in her lean body, her lush, light brown hair, her perfectly sculpted face. All of these things held him spellbound. Conversely, yes, he loathed the fact that another man was touching her incredible body and was eliciting the deep moans of pleasure that escaped her parted lips.

  And yet D.T. felt compelled to watch. To see if Trey could satisfy her. To see if Gizelle would actually get off on another man touching her.

  As Trey’s fingers continued to tease her nipple and her clit, D.T. sensed Gizelle was close to coming. But she didn’t give into the obvious desire that gripped her. Instead, she opened her eyes and they locked with D.T.’s.

  Almost. Her gaze seemed a little unsteady, a little hazy from her desire.

  D.T.’s jaw clenched tighter before he said, “You’ve made your point.”

  “Have I?” she countered in a provocative tone, laced with her arousal. And then she shifted i
n Trey’s arms and turned to the tall, dark stranger. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him passionately, igniting D.T.’s jealousy all over again.

  “For fuck’s sake, Ellie,” he said between his teeth. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

  She broke the kiss and glanced over her bare shoulder. “I’m proving the lengths I’ll go to in order to get you back to Earth.”

  He gave a quick, agitated shake of his head. Damn it. His cock still throbbed at seeing her naked and in the throes of passion. “That’s the thing, sweetheart. There’s nothing you can do that will get me to go back. Nothing you can do with me or with Trey.”

  Her grin turned wicked, her voice confident. “I beg to differ.”

  Her gaze shifted as she scanned the room, taking in the couples, the orgies, that no longer helped D.T.’s plight. The entire scene created sensory overload, what with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and the orgasmic cries mingled with the intense pleas for more pleasure. The sight of men and women engaging in carnal activities created a lusty atmosphere and generated the faint scent of sex. All of these things taunted D.T. as much as Gizelle’s seduction did.

  He knew what she was doing, for God’s sake. And yet, when she turned back to Trey and her hands slid down his body, D.T.’s mouth went dry and his brain seemed to freeze. What the fuck was that all about?

  As one of Gizelle’s hands eased over Trey’s obvious erection and cupped his balls in his black leather pants, D.T. literally thought he’d lost his mind for letting the game go this far.

  And yet he didn’t reach for her. Didn’t pull her away from Trey.

  Yes, he questioned his sanity over that. Maybe the Scotch was making him slow to react with the anger and violence he’d felt moments ago. Because, seriously, no one but him should be touching Gizelle or bringing her pleasure.