Aubrey Ross Enemy Embrace 05 Madam

Madam

Enemy Embrace, Book Five

After inheriting a wildly popular sex club from her estranged mother, Tamara is

forced to reexamine her priorities. She must now manage a vast fortune, her newly
awakened hunger for uninhibited pleasure, and her mother’s deadly enemies. Seeing no
other option, and running for her life, she seeks refuge with Jericho James, a man nearly
as notorious as her mother.

Jericho is fascinated by the passionate promise smoldering beneath Tamara’s

stubborn reserve. He longs to strip away her defenses and help her explore each new
longing, but first they must discover who is trying to kill her and determine if her
mystic abilities have anything to do with the villain’s plot.

Danger heightens desire. If they can stay alive long enough to enjoy the ride.

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

Madam

ISBN 9781419934391

Edited by Mary Moran

Cover art by Syneca

Electronic book publication May 2011

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales

is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

ADAM

Aubrey Ross

Madam

Chapter One

Halley Prime

Thankful for the relative protection of his desk, Jericho James watched the erotic

contortionists move into their next enticing position. All three were naked, their young

bodies toned to perfection. The woman arched into a dramatic backbend, offering her

mouth and up-thrust breasts to one of the men and her shaved pussy to the other. After

only a moment in this position, the man in her pussy pulled out. She pushed off as her

other partner lifted then gracefully did the splits. The men supported her upside down,

allowing her to move freely from one cock to the other. Meanwhile one man licked her

pussy while the other tongued her ass.

“As you can see, they are quite inventive.”
Jericho reluctantly dragged his gaze away from the performers and looked at their

manager. With its simulators and themed playgrounds the Fantasy Forum provided a

place where people escaped reality. He’d always avoided live sex acts, feeling they

deterred from the surreal atmosphere he tried so hard to create.

Signaling the team to continue, the manager explained, “They can keep things

simple or perform one of their more exotic routines.”

Before Jericho could state his preference, they set the woman down and both men

made a show of lubing their cocks. The woman bent over, grasping her ankles as she

centered her head between her legs, literally bending her body in half. Then the taller of

the two men positioned his cock against her anus and slowly drove in as he lowered his

hands to the floor. As soon as his body enveloped hers, the smaller man climbed on top.

With the same dramatic movements, he positioned his cock against the larger man’s

anus and gradually entered him. Once he was solidly anchored, the smaller man spread

his arms and raised his chin, completing the pose with a dramatic flourish.

“This is called the anal tower,” the manager said with a coaxing smile. “Would you

like to see—”

“Enough.” Jericho waved them away. “I need to think about it.”
The performers disentangled, leaving both men with painful-looking hard-ons.

Jericho shifted his legs beneath the desk, trying to make more room for his own massive

erection. No one could deny their act was stimulating.

“Is there anything else we can do to persuade you?” The female performer threw

him her best come-hither smile as she skimmed her hand over one perky breast then

downward, guiding his attention to her bare cleft. “Performing at the Forum would be a

dream come true.”

Aubrey Ross

His gaze snapped back to her flushed face. “They might utilize a casting couch at

the Pleasure Palace. I deal in credits, not sexual favors.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.” One of her partners helped her into a silk

robe as she rushed on. “We really need this job.”

Jericho ignored her pleading eyes and turned back to the manager. “I can see the

appeal, and the act is unique. I’m just not sure it’s right for the Forum.” A repetitive

beeping preempted the manager’s reply. Jericho pivoted toward the companel with an

annoyed glower and responded to the audio page. “I told you not to interrupt.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. James.” Ranyn sounded appropriately contrite and his decision to

activate audio only indicated his attempt to protect Jericho’s privacy. Still, no

interruptions meant no interruptions. “The lady is quite insistent. I told her she’d have to

wait, but she’s growing more belligerent by the minute.”

All three performers now wore matching robes, and the manager watched him

silently. “Does ‘the lady’ have a name?”

“She claims to be Professor Tamara Owens, recently arrived from d’Arrest.”
Confused yet curious, Jericho pushed back from his desk and stood, adjusting the

fall of his pants. “I have your contact information,” he assured the manager. “I’ll be in

touch.” Tamara was part of the privileged élite, the pampered citizens who never

admitted to associations with people like him. So why was she here? The troop filed out

of his office as he said, “Send her in.”

Tamara rushed past the last performer, forcing the man to turn sideways to avoid a

collision. Was she afraid he’d change his mind? Light brown hair had been pulled away

from her face and secured with an oversized barrette. Her smooth skin appeared pale

while bright-red patches stained the crests of her hollow cheeks. Though her chocolate-

brown pantsuit was well tailored, it was also wrinkled, as if she’d just tumbled out of

bed.

“I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, Mr. James. I honestly didn’t know where else

to turn.”

He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk as he returned to his seat. “What can I

do for you?”

After a brief pause, she accepted his offer and sat. She placed her purse on the floor

near her feet and folded her hands in her lap. “I think someone is trying to kill me.”

Despite the absurdity of her claim, he managed not to smile. “What brought you to

that conclusion?” Last time he’d seen Tamara, she’d been perfectly pressed and

presentable, despite the conflict surrounding her. Not a speck of lint on her clothes, not

a hair out of place. And her prim and proper image had fueled his school teacher

fantasies for months after she’d returned to d’Arrest. It was almost refreshing to see her

rattled, to know genuine emotions existed beneath that reserve.

Long lashes shadowed her gaze for a moment then she looked into his eyes. Her

irises were a rich, true violet. Not the garish lavender so popular with the cosmetically

enhanced, but a rich combination of purple and blue.

Madam

“Yesterday I was summoned to the dean’s office and informed that I had a choice. I

could sell the Pleasure Palace and publically renounce any association with Petra or I

could resign.”

Tamara was a history professor at the most prestigious university in the Comet

Coalition. Reputation was everything to people like her. This couldn’t have come as

much of a surprise, or at least it shouldn’t have. “You never really knew your mother,

and I presume you have no interest in managing a sex club, so why would you refuse?”

He folded his hands on the desktop, watching the flush across her cheeks darken. She

was beautiful, like a museum piece was beautiful, cold, refined, meant to be admired

but never touched.

“I don’t like ultimatums.” Spirit flashed in her gaze, hinting at a stubbornness he’d

yet to witness firsthand. It would be so much fun to cultivate that spark, to watch it

smolder and burn. “I was told my mother died when I was five, but I never believed the

story. I knew in my heart of hearts that she was out there, watching over me.”

He chuckled. He couldn’t help it. Only someone who had never known Petra could

describe her in those terms. “You make her sound angelic. Trust me. She was a ruthless

businesswoman who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.”

“That’s not the point. One of the files I received upon my mother’s passing was a

database of her regular customers. Dean Wilson and several of the board members were

listed in the file.”

Now this was getting interesting. Was Tamara more like her mother than she

realized? Petra wouldn’t have hesitated to use such information to her advantage. “Did

you mention this fact to Dean Wilson?”

“No. I was too angry to say much of anything. I was told to give up my birthright

and publically brand my mother a whore or lose my job.”

Petra had never been bothered by labels such as madam or whore. She hadn’t given

a damn what anyone thought about her. And she’d died violently, friendless and bitter.

“Do you want to follow in your mother’s footsteps? She ran the most lurid sex club on

Halley Prime. That’s not a respectable occupation by anyone’s definition.”

Scooting to the edge of her chair, she pulled her purse into her lap and reached

inside. “The ultimatum is only where the fun began. I listened to the dean without

losing my temper or saying something I couldn’t take back. I was proud of myself and

was even considering the option when the next sucker punch flew.”

She placed a full-color print on his desk, offering no explanation.
Jericho picked it up and studied the image. A woman with light brown hair

straddled the lap of one man while another pressed in close behind her. Her head was

turned sharply to the right as she sucked a third man’s cock. He looked at Tamara then

back at the picture. The woman’s features were identical. But images were simple to

manipulate. Across the back of the picture a message had been scrawled—Are you ready

to play?

Aubrey Ross

He hadn’t known Tamara long, but she certainly didn’t seem like the type of

woman to indulge in something so hedonistic. “I take it the picture is a fake.”

“Of course it’s a fake.” She sounded angry not embarrassed, which intrigued

Jericho all the more. He’d never seen her like this, all fight and fire, ready to take on the

world. “But it’s damn convincing. They even included a mole and my birthmark,” she

pointed out the discolorations, “which means at some point this cretin has seen me

naked. And there’s a website, of course. There’s always a website.”

She looked into his eyes and awareness pulsed between them, warm and electric,

needing only the slightest encouragement to ignite. He was a jaded bastard to even

entertain a sexual thought while she was this upset, but the image formed nonetheless.

He saw her on her knees before him, naked and bound, thighs open, lips softly parted.

Fuck! What was wrong with him? She needed a protector, a friend, not a sexual mentor!

He shook away the tantalizing image and frantically searched for a piece of his soul that

wasn’t hopelessly corrupted.

“Where did you find the print?” He handed the picture back to her, mentally

beginning a list of suspects. Jealous coworker, jilted lover? This wasn’t a random act.

Everything about it was personal, focused.

“Sitting on my desk for anyone to see. I don’t lock my office. Anything of value is

locked in my desk and I’ve never been vandalized before. VinDerley University takes

security very seriously.”

Not as seriously as she claimed or this never would have happened. He still wasn’t

sure what she wanted from him, but he was moved by her dilemma. Things like this

happened all the time among his cohorts and competitors. People made threats and

used motivations that were creative and hurtful. But Tamara wasn’t part of his world.

She was untainted by the pleasure industry. She was honest and open, trusting even in

the face of crisis. The contrast was so refreshing that he was suddenly filled with

determination to make sure she stayed that way.

“What do you think they meant by ‘Are you ready to play?’” he asked.
“I had no idea until I returned to my house and found the place trashed. They’d

smashed furniture and broken windows and spray painted the walls with all sorts of

delightful threats. I’ve never felt so violated in my life. The picture was bad enough, but

they were in my house, touching my things, lashing out at me for… I don’t know why

they’re doing this!” Her voice broke and her lips trembled, but she stubbornly blinked

back the tears.

“Did you call the authorities?”
“Of course.” She shoved the picture back into her purse and returned it to the floor

at her feet. The mundane activity seemed to calm her. When she spoke again, her voice

was steady, but an emotional tempest still raged in her expressive eyes. “They went

through the motions, but I could tell they didn’t give a damn. As soon as I explained

that I was Petra’s daughter and inheriting the Pleasure Palace had been the catalyst for

Madam

these crimes, they just shut down. Petra was a worthless whore, so her daughter

deserved anything that happened to her.”

“I’m not a big fan of coalition security forces either, but Petra didn’t play well with

others. She made a wide range of enemies.”

“That doesn’t excuse their apathy. I’m a professor, for God’s sake. I did nothing

wrong. Don’t I deserve to be taken seriously?”

Fear flashed through her anger, giving him a glimpse beneath her façade. Despite

her composure, she was terrified. She might have inherited Petra’s strength, but she

lacked her mother’s street-smart instincts and kill-or-be-killed attitude. The fact that she

was here proved how desperate she was. Had she honestly nowhere else to turn? Not

one friend or lover who would help in her hour of need?

He stood and came around the desk. She immediately picked up her purse and

stood as well. Okay. Slow down. She was skittish and still on the verge of tears.

“You can stay here as long as you like. My security is infinitely better than anything

found on d’Arrest. You’re safe, Tamara. No one will hurt you here.”

Her lips trembled and she inched away, positioning her chair between them. “Who

hated Petra enough to do this to me? Shouldn’t all scores have been settled when she

died?”

It depended on the score. Some vendettas passed on from generation to generation,

but he wasn’t about to point that out to her. “Where are Matt and Serena? Why didn’t

you—”

“I didn’t mean to bother you with my troubles.” She spun toward the door and took

one angry step before he caught her arm.

“It was just a question.” She remained tense and agitated, but she didn’t try to pull

away. “Matt was your mother’s best friend. He was the obvious choice to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Her laugh sounded sharp, almost shrill. “No one has ever been there

to protect me! I had the monetary support of a phantom benefactor, but everything I

am, everything I have, I’ve scratched and clawed to achieve. No one is going to destroy

what I’ve built because of something a stranger did. I never knew Petra! Didn’t even

know…”

Her words trailed away as hard sobs shook her slender body. Jericho drew her

toward him slowly, not sure if she would accept his embrace. She hesitated for a

moment then melted against him, wrapping her arms around his back as she sobbed

against his chest. Her purse dropped to the floor, forgotten as she lost her battle with

her raging emotions.

He stroked her hair and let her cry. It was obvious she needed the release. She was

warm and soft, and her hair smelled of honeysuckle, the light, fresh scent perfect for

such a delicate woman. It had been a long time since he’d held a woman who didn’t

smell of decadence and sin.

Aubrey Ross

“I’m sorry,” she whispered a long time later. “I promised myself I wasn’t going to

cry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He waited for her to pull away, but she didn’t. She

snuggled against him—trustingly—her fingers absently stroking his back. And her soft,

floral scent tantalized his nose, making him want to bury his face in her hair and

breathe in her…innocence? She was no trembling virgin. At least he didn’t think a

woman this lovely could make it to adulthood untouched. Still, she made him feel

protective and predatory at the same time. Heat flowed through him, stirring his senses

and hardening his cock. Not wanting her to realize he was aroused by her nearness, he

eased her back and smiled. “I think you’ve earned a few tears.”

After wiping her cheeks with the backs of her fingers, she crossed her arms over her

chest. Were her nipples hard? Had touching him ignited her imagination and made her

want— He stopped himself before he put illicit thoughts in her mind. She’d come to

him for protection, not to expand her sexual horizons.

“Did I interrupt something important? I can come back at a more convenient time.”
“I was previewing an act I’m thinking of booking for one of my lounges. They were

just finishing up when you arrived.” He motioned toward the couch across the room.

“Why don’t we sit? I think we’d both be more comfortable.”

She picked up her purse and crossed to the couch, looking less comfortable with

each step she took. “I appreciate the room, but this really isn’t your concern. I shouldn’t

have come here. You don’t even know me.”

He held out his hand and grinned. “Jericho James. Glad to meet you.” Ignoring the

teasing gesture, she sat as far to one side as physically possible. He sat and leaned

against the padded arm, amused by her caution. Making females feel comfortable was

his specialty, and this was one female who was in serious need of gentling. “I don’t bite,

unless I’m bitten first, and I love a good mystery.”

“I’m glad I can amuse you.” Her sidelong glance was filled with annoyance. “This

is my life we’re talking about, not some simulation.”

“I’m well aware of that.” He abandoned his practiced charm in lieu of sincerity.

“I’m not taking this lightly, but I need more information. You have to stop being

defensive if we’re going to get anywhere.”

“I’m sorry. This has been very upsetting. I’ve never been threatened before and…”

She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead as she admitted, “It’s humiliating to

throw myself on the mercy of a relative stranger.”

“I have women throwing themselves at me all the time. You’re in good company.”

He softened the boast with a warm smile, and she finally began to relax. “Did you

contact Matt and Serena?”

Tamara tried not to look at Jericho. He was too damn distracting. With wavy dark

hair and piercing green eyes, he was both charming and lethal. Once her emotions had

run their course, she’d found herself helplessly aware of his tall, hard body pressed

Madam

against hers. She’d wanted to unbutton his shirt and loosen his tie, find out if his body

looked as amazing as it felt. She’d never done anything impulsive in her entire life.

She’d followed the rules, accepted conventional expectation, and still her life was

careening out of control. Why not choose the direction of the madness? Grab on with

both hands and just enjoy the ride?

Matt, sanity’s voice echoed through the chaos. He’d asked about Matt and Serena.
“They’re on Temple-Tuttle visiting Serena’s family. I sent a message, but the

Perrlain shun technology. A written message will have to be sent and then returned.

Who knows how long that will take.” Besides, Matt’s connection to Petra might have

been closer than Jericho’s, but Matt was just as much a stranger to Tamara as the man

seated beside her. She hadn’t realized how isolated she was until she tried to think of

anyone who would willingly involve themselves in this disaster. “I didn’t think it was

wise to wait.”

“I agree.” He paused for a moment as his assessing gaze moved over her face.

Though faintly caressing, those vivid green eyes made her feel exposed, as if he could

see into her mind and sense her soul.

When they’d met eight months ago, she’d been too stunned by the unexpected

announcements to feel much of anything. She’d originally been told her mother died

when she was five years old, so the news that Petra had just been killed in a vicious

showdown with a rival had left Tamara oddly numb. Even finding out that Petra had

left behind a vast fortune acquired in the pleasure industry hadn’t penetrated Tamara’s

stupor. She was rich beyond her wildest imaginings, but only if she could look past

how the money had been made. The pleasure industry was notorious for excess and

cruelty. People were objectified—their bodies bought and sold like mindless vessels.

Needing a place to stash her until Petra’s killer had been apprehended, Matt had

brought her to the Fantasy Forum and asked Jericho to hide her. She’d found Jericho

dashing and polite yet distant, as if he wanted nothing to do with a frumpy history

professor. Why would he? He was surrounded by the most beautiful women money

could buy.

Jericho seemed warmer now, more approachable. She wasn’t sure if the change was

good or bad. He definitely seemed more aware of her as a woman, and that could lead

to all sorts of complications. Complications she really couldn’t afford right now. “Matt

told me the danger had passed. He promised I had nothing more to fear.”

“Kwinton Rizaria is dead. That should have ended the conflict.”
“Obviously Petra had someone else who hated her and wasn’t satisfied by her

death.”

He didn’t argue. How could he? It wasn’t opinion, it was fact. “Have you decided

whether or not to sell the Pleasure Palace?”

“I’ve decided to sell, but I’d made no announcement regarding my intentions.”
Accepting the information with a nod, he lapsed into silence. Was he considering

the possibilities or searching for a polite way to dismiss her? He’d said she could stay

Aubrey Ross

here while she figured out what she wanted to do. He knew little more than her name

and occupation. It wasn’t fair to expect more than polite hospitality.

“I should go.” She scooted to the edge of the couch. “You’ve been more than kind

already.”

“If you don’t stop running away, I’m going to think you don’t like me.”
The low, growling quality in his voice sent tingles spinning off to all sorts of

inappropriate places. Not like him? Her life was in utter turmoil, yet moving out of his

arms had been almost painful. “I’m not running away. I don’t want to take advantage of

your kindness.”

He rested his hand on the couch between them and leaned toward her, a sexy smile

bowing his lips. “I’ll let you in on a secret, doll. I stopped doing anything I didn’t want

to do a long time ago.”

“How nice for you.” The comment slipped out before she could stop it, and she

wanted to crawl under the couch. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually such a bitch.” But her

body quickened and her pulse raced in reaction to his smile.

“Just relax. You’re among friends.” He stretched his arm along the back of the

couch and said, “Did you tell anyone where you were going? For that matter, how did

you get here?”

Yes. Focus on facts. Keep things professional. “Campus security left and I was

standing there alone in the debris. I was too angry to cry and too upset to face the clean-

up. So, I threw some things in a suitcase, grabbed my purse and walked away.”

“You walked from d’Arrest to Halley Prime?” Jericho laughed. “That’s quite a feat.”
He was doing his best to disarm her, but she wasn’t quite ready to surrender. She

couldn’t allow his charm to erode her fear. The threat was real. There was someone out

there bent on her destruction. “I started thinking about everything the culprit had to

know to pull this off. They knew my schedule, the location of my home and office, not

to mention intimate details of my personal appearance. This was premeditated and

carefully orchestrated. Someone set out to purposely destroy my life.”

“What made you come here?”
It was a fair question. She’d spent four days beneath his roof eight months ago. That

barely qualified them as friends. “I couldn’t go back to that house. Security swept it for

bugs, but it didn’t matter. I could feel the culprit’s hate, the rage pulsing all around me.

I wanted to disappear for a few days until I figured out what to do, so I hopped a

shuttle to Halley Prime. New Shardrake is massive. I figured I’d lose myself in the

crowd.”

“Go on.”
She wasn’t sure what else he needed to hear, so she just relayed the events. “I was

going to check in to a cheap motel, but cheap motels tend to be in crime-ridden sections

of the city.”

Madam

“Funny how that works.” His smile was less playful now. She’d obviously struck a

nerve and she wasn’t sure how. “So you decided the Forum was a better choice than a

sleazy motel?” His smile was entirely absent this time. “Am I supposed to be flattered?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I took the tram from the shuttle station, and as I was

nearing the rougher part of town, I was finally honest enough to admit that I needed

help. Whoever did this knows what they’re doing. They threatened my job, obliterated

my reputation and violated my home all in a matter of hours. I’m not equipped to deal

with someone who could be so cruel.”

“Yet you presume I am?”
She heaved a frustrated sigh. Why was he finding insult in everything she said? She

felt intrusive enough without his annoyance. “You asked me to be honest.”

“I did, and you’re right. I rub elbows with these sorts of people every day. But

seeing myself through your eyes is a little hard on the ego.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I’m pretty sure your ego can take it.”
He chuckled then glanced away. “I’m pretty sure you’re right. So, are you just

looking for some peace and quiet while you decide what to do, or are you hoping to

find the bastard who did this?”

“First of all, I’m not convinced they’re finished tormenting me. ‘Are you ready to

play?’ sounds like a challenge, not a goodbye.”

“Unfortunately, I agree.”
“As for my goals, I’m not sure yet. I can’t return to work and pretend none of this

happened. Thanks to the website, this is all over campus by now. None of the

respectable universities will employ the daughter of a notorious madam who spends

her weekends with three men in her bed.”

He paused for a moment and his expression turned thoughtful. “Is there any chance

this is strictly personal? Do you have a jealous coworker or a vindictive ex?”

“No. I’m relatively popular with my coworkers and my last relationship ended

amicably.”

“Then we’ll concentrate on the skeletons in Petra’s closet.”
Dread dropped like a rock into the pit of her stomach. She’d never been so helpless

in her life, so utterly dependent on someone else’s expertise. “I don’t even know

enough about her to help you narrow the list.”

“I didn’t know Petra well, but I know a lot of people who did. We’ll get to the

bottom of this.” All of a sudden he brightened and held out his hand. “Let’s get you

settled in a suite upstairs. My afternoon is booked solid, but I’ll stop by for dinner and

we can chip away at that list.”

* * * * *

Aubrey Ross

After escorting Tamara to her suite, Jericho returned to his office. He hadn’t spoken

with Drake in a couple of weeks. His brother was so blissfully happy with his

newfound love, Miranda, that it made Jericho antsy. He didn’t begrudge the couple

their happiness. It was just hard as hell to watch when his own social life was

nonexistent. He was surrounded by beautiful women, most of whom were willing to

share his bed, but he felt no connection to any of them, no stirring beyond superficial

lust.

He shook his head and slipped in behind his desk. Lust had always been enough in

the past. In fact, he’d preferred his liaisons without emotional complications. Then he’d

had a front row seat as his brother fell in love. Now all he could think about was the

tenderness, the true intimacy they shared. It made casual sex seem so hollow. Jericho

knew everything there was to know about carnal pleasure, but he’d never experienced

anything like the soul-deep longing he’d seen when his brother looked at Miranda.

Well, he’d avoided the happy couple long enough. Drake was an Enforcer, and his

perspective, not to mention his connections, could help unravel the mystery

surrounding Tamara. Jericho pivoted toward the companel and entered Drake’s official

frequency. The audio page went directly to the Enforcers’ message center, so he tried

Drake’s personal access code.

“Hey.” Drake’s familiar voice emanated from the speakers, but he hadn’t activated

video. “Where have you been? I was starting to think you were avoiding me—again.”

In the background, Jericho could hear the drone of overlapping conversations, and

muffled clatters and clangs.

“Where are you? I can hardly hear you.”
“I’m having a late lunch with my lovely fiancée.” He heard a distorted greeting

from Miranda and couldn’t help but smile. Miranda was the free-spirited mystic who

had thawed his ever-serious brother’s heart. They made a perfect couple, which was

one of the reasons Jericho had been avoiding them. “Were you just checking up on me

or is there a reason for your com?”

“I wanted to make sure you were still breathing, but I do need a favor.”
Drake chuckled. “Big surprise.”
“Hey, you still owe me one for taking care of Miranda when she had nowhere else

to turn.” Rather like Tamara. The thought rekindled her image within his mind, her

delicate features and luminous eyes.

“You gave us a room. I took care of Miranda.”
“Details.” Jericho waved away the subject even though his brother couldn’t see the

gesture. “Do you know any of the security staff at VU?”

“VinDerley’s a private university. They have their own security team. But I know

the Enforcer all campus security teams report to. Why do you ask?”

“A friend of mine was threatened and her house vandalized. She was less than

impressed with the enthusiasm of the responding officers. Is there any way you can

Madam

find out if there has been any follow-through? She’s afraid this is just the beginning of

the harassment.”

“What sort of threats are we talking about? I work homicide. If there isn’t a body,

I’m stepping on jurisdictional toes.”

“I know, but my friend is Petra’s daughter. This could get ugly fast.”
“Petra, as in the recently deceased owner of the Pleasure Palace?”
“That’s the one. Tamara never really knew her mother, but she’s the sole beneficiary

of Petra’s estate. We’re pretty sure one of Petra’s enemies is taking out their hostility on

Tamara, but the bastards on d’Arrest aren’t taking it seriously.”

“I’ll do some digging and see what I can find out. Is Tamara with you? I know what

Petra was worth. Getting a slice of that pie is motivation enough for all sorts of crazies

to misbehave.”

“She is and I’ll keep her close. Any help you can give us is appreciated.”
“I’ll com you tomorrow, unless I find out something earth-shattering tonight.”
“Thanks. Enjoy your lunch.” Jericho deactivated the comlink and turned to his

access terminal. Accepting anyone at their word wasn’t in Jericho’s nature. He’d been

stung too many times by seemingly innocent deceptions. He didn’t expect to find

anything damning during his search, but he needed to be sure Tamara was as

wholesome and innocent as she appeared. Once he’d verified everything she’d told

him, he’d focus on Petra’s enemies.

Aubrey Ross

Chapter Two

Sensation swirled through Misty Blue, curling up her limbs and gathering in her

abdomen like a menacing storm. She helplessly dragged her sculpted nails up her

thighs, hoping the momentary sting would disperse the trepidation. Why did this keep

happening? The feelings gathered and grew like lust, but these urges were so much

more consuming.

Paul Zettalli moved behind her, his tall, warm body wonderfully comforting. “Tell

me what you see.” He caught her wrists and pulled her hands away from her thighs.

It was a familiar command, signaling his shift from business partner to Master.

Soothed by his firm grip on her wrists, she tried to focus on the surveillance grid. A

bird’s eye view of the Pleasure Palace’s main floor was centered on the wall. Four

smaller panes above and four below allowed them to supervise the action in the

training rooms and private suites.

Usually she could spot trouble faster than anyone else. Her transition from Mistress

to head of security was what brought her to Paul’s attention. Today, however, her

concentration was shot. The twisting, churning angst was making her skin crawl and

her muscles spasm.

“Speak!” He pulled her arms behind her back and held them there with one of his

long-fingered hands. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, knowing her

silence had earned her the punishment she so desperately needed.

Pressing her nipple between his finger and thumb, he pinched and pulled until pain

cut through the other sensations. For just a moment, there was blessed relief from the

phantom intensity. “More,” she whispered. “Please, Master, more.”

“Then tell me what you see.”
She looked at the top row of images, not yet ready to subject herself to the manic

commotion of the main floor. “Activity in the training rooms is within accepted

parameters.”

His deep laugh sent a heated tingle down her spine. “You sound like one of our

domestibots. Talk to me, Blue. Mr. Salvatore is watching their trainer go down on his

wife. Is it turning him on or does he look uncomfortable?”

The Salvatores were in training room two. Mrs. Salvatore stood against the wall, her

spa robe hanging open from her shoulders. The trainer had one of her legs draped over

his arm as he knelt in front of her. All Blue could see was the movement of the trainer’s

head, but Mr. Salvatore sat at an angle that allowed him to see each lick and thrust of

the trainer’s tongue. Mr. Salvatore watched with rapt interest for a few moments then

Madam

turned his face away. His fists clenched and he closed his eyes, but slowly his fingers

relaxed and he turned back to the lurid display.

“He looks furious and jealous yet wild with lust.” She focused on Salvatore’s face.

He licked his lips and shifted his head to better view his wife’s pussy. “I don’t think

he’s angry with her. He hates how much he likes what the trainer is doing.”

“Very good.” He cupped one breast and then the other, squeezing right to the point

of pain. The firm pressure held back the storm and allowed her to breathe. “Move on.”

“The occupants of training room four have drawn blood. I’ll notify housekeeping.

The room will need to be sanitized before it can be used again.”

“Much better.” His hand slipped beneath her short skirt and teased her crease

through her silk panties. He used light, random brushes of his fingertips.

Arousal rose, blending with the storm currents tearing and twisting inside her.

“The private suites look fine.” She panted then rolled her hips, increasing the pressure

of his fingers, trying to bring his touch in contact with her clit.

“Now the main floor.” One of his fingers slipped inside her panties, brushing over

her folds. “Talk or you’ll lose my touch.”

The main floor of the Pleasure Palace was notorious for its carnality. The Masters

and Mistresses urged each participant to shed their inhibitions and explore new

territory. Masks were allowed but not encouraged. Part of the experience was in finding

the strength to push through emotional barriers and own one’s sexuality.

Two Masters and a Mistress had gathered around one flushed young woman. She

was bound between two polls, arms and legs outstretched. Pleasure Master Seven

commanded the action while the other two carried out his orders.

Blue selected the section with her fingertips and the computer zoomed in on the

area. “Mute surrounding sound.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” the woman cried. “This isn’t what I want.”
Seven held up his hand and the other two paused. “Why? Tell me what you’re

feeling.”

She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “I just want to stop. I…”
“You’re afraid, but why are you frightened?”
“I can’t do this. Release these cuffs!” She jerked against the restraints, her voice

growing shrill.

He dismissed the other two with an impatient wave, but his voice was calm and

caring when he spoke to the woman. “Nothing will be forced on you, but I’m

disappointed with your choice. Don’t speak, just consider my questions. What is

holding you back? Why are you suddenly so afraid?”

“Seven has things well in hand,” Blue said, desperate for her Pleasure Master to

progress beyond this teasing limbo.

Paul returned the grid to its original configuration then urged her toward his desk.

They usually started out each day with a leisurely session in their private playroom.

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He’d had an early meeting today, so she’d made do with her favorite vibrator. But a

vibrator couldn’t command her, and it couldn’t combine pleasure with pain. Her

submissive nature craved the aggressive pleasure while the phantom urgency

demanded pain.

“Don’t move.” He left her beside the desk, with her hands crossed at the small of

her back, as he opened the discreet compartment in the wall behind his desk and

gathered what he needed.

He looked calm and composed, but the speed with which he moved told a different

story. Was he as anxious to fuck her as she was to feel him ram his cock deep inside her,

or did he simply know how badly she needed this? His chiseled features revealed

nothing, but desire blazed in his dark eyes.

Turning his chair around so the tall back concealed his selections, he placed

everything within easy reach. When he returned to her, he had a velvet cord and he

quickly bound her wrists. A mirror hung on the wall in front of her, mounted adjacent

to his desk for just this reason. He remained behind her, but their gazes locked in the

mirror.

They’d been together for less than a year, but she couldn’t imagine life without him.

She’d been on the verge of insanity when his strong hands pulled her back. He reached

around her and pushed up her clingy tank top, exposing her breasts. They jiggled as he

freed them, the nipples still tight and rosy from his pinches.

“Who do these breasts belong to?” He caressed their fullness without obscuring the

tips.

“You, Master. Only you.” He rewarded her with a slow, twisting pinch as his gaze

bore into hers. Pain sliced through the madness, bestowing another moment of blessed

peace.

With one hand still working her nipples, he grasped her jaw and turned her head to

the side. Her lips were parted and waiting for the bold thrust of his tongue. He gently

sucked on her lips before his tongue pushed between them, possessing her warm, wet

mouth.

The long, deep kiss left her breathless and pliant. He bent her forward. The cold

glass soothed her stinging nipples, and she wiggled in protest. She needed the pain!

Without it she was powerless against the storm.

He kicked her feet apart and shoved her skirt up around her waist. Her satin thong

was no barrier against his possession, but he ripped it from her body anyway. “Tell me

what you need.”

“Discipline.” She gasped, the urgency returning with a vengeance.
“Beg me.”
“Please, Master. Cleanse me with pain.”
His hand connected with her ass cheek and her passage clenched so hard she cried

out. She pushed to the balls of her feet, offering him a better angle. He spanked the

Madam

other side, pausing as she savored the spreading heat and purging pain. Skin on skin.

They’d tried paddles and floggers, but the storm demanded a physical bond only

attainable with his body touching hers.

Again and again, his hand connected with her ass. He paused to squeeze her

cheeks, pushing the heat deeper and intensifying the sting. Gradually, her brain

registered pleasure within the pain. The storm receded, leaving her body trembling

with need.

Her clit twitched and her pussy rippled, ready for the demanding thrust of his cock.

She dug her nails into her palms and looked into the mirror. He was focused entirely on

his task, jaw set, eyes narrowed and glistening. His business suit seemed at odds with

his spiky black hair, and the elaborate tattoo that crept along his jaw to circle his ear.

As if he sensed her gaze, he looked into the mirror as he pushed her legs farther

apart. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want your cock deep inside me.”
“What will you do to get it?”
Excitement blossomed within her. It had been a long time since they played this

game. He was usually so desperate for release that he didn’t hesitate. “Anything.”

“Anything?” He paused, one hand resting on her burning skin. “That’s a dangerous

concession to offer me. Do you mean it?”

“Yes Master.”
“Swear it.”
He often pushed her boundaries, but she knew she could trust him. “I swear.”
“Speak the vow out loud. I will do anything my Master asks if he fucks me right

now.”

Anticipation. He wanted her to wonder, to imagine and helplessly wait for him to

make his demand. “I will do anything my Master asks if he fucks me right now.”

His hands drew her hips up as his cock found her opening. Teasing her with

gentleness, he drove in centimeter by torturous centimeter. She craved aggression,

needed his big body holding her down, slamming his entire length into her aching

pussy, and yet he made her wait.

“Squeeze me hard, Blue. Let me feel that tight cunt welcome me home.”
She tightened her inner muscles and pleasure radiated through her abdomen. His

cool skin pressed against her burning ass cheeks, the contrast soothing yet distracting.

He pulled her back and slipped his hand beneath her, skillfully fingering her clit.

Sensations burst from the sensitive bud, forcing her precariously close to climax.

“Don’t fight it. I want you to come.”
Surrendering her body into his keeping, she simply let go. Reality dimmed and she

flowed with the sizzling currents rather than being consumed by them. He drew nearly

out then pulled on her clit as he thrust back in. The contrasting motion shattered the last

of her control. She came in hard, fast spasms, a startled cry torn from her throat.

Aubrey Ross

While her body still pulsed and a surreal haze encompassed her thinking, he

withdrew completely. She felt her ass cheeks pulled apart and something slick and cool

circling her anus. His fingers pushed into her vagina while the toy spiraled ever deeper.

Her sphincter spread, accepting the toy, completely surrendered to his will. His fingers

curved, rubbing her G-spot as the toy drove deeper and stretched her tighter.

Her sphincter contracted, tightening around the narrow notch near the toy’s handle.

A butt plug, her muddled brain finally registered. It was designed to remain inside her

rather than be shuttled in and out. The fullness felt amazing, further suppressing the

storm.

He drew his fingers out of her pussy and positioned his cock. She braced for

another slow, teasing entry, but he thrust hard, possessing her with breath-stealing

force. Yes! Finally. She closed her eyes and reveled in the fullness. And he didn’t

hesitate.

Fucking her in earnest, Paul rocked back and forth, his shaft gliding smoothly

within her needful passage. Her torso slid against the desktop, her tender nipples

echoing her racing heartbeat. The rush of wind and electricity surging through her

being took on the rhythm of his powerful thrusts. She was one with the storm and one

with her Master in a dance only they understood.

He moved his hands to her hips as his pelvis slapped against her sensitized cheeks.

Each distinct connection maintained the heat and added to the intensity. He wasn’t

gentle now. His cock rammed into her and his hands clutched her hips. But his

aggression soothed her as nothing else could. Though the tempest raged all around her,

she was safe within the storm, insulated and secure in her submission.

The wet slap of flesh against flesh echoed in the office, and she looked into the

mirror. His features were tense, his head thrown back as he drove them both toward

completion. For a moment, she stared into her own eyes and saw a shimmering swirl. It

gleamed and curled, like a silver tornado trapped within her eyes. Then he cried out

and shuddered against her back as his seed bathed the mouth of her womb.

Pleasure swept through her body and she closed her eyes, breaking the hypnotic

connection. She shook with her orgasm as he panted above her, his weight oppressive

yet wonderful.

After long, silent moments, he pushed off the desk and separated their bodies. “It’s

getting worse, Blue.” He gently removed the butt plug, leaving her empty and unsure.

“We can’t keep pretending everything’s okay.”

She reluctantly opened her eyes and met his gaze in the mirror. “We’ve been to half

the doctors in New Shardrake. According to them, there’s nothing wrong with me.”

He righted his clothing then untied her hands and helped her up off the desk. She

pulled down her skirt while he smoothed her tank top over her tender breasts. “We

both know that’s bullshit.” He turned her to face him, stroking her cheek with the backs

of his fingers. “If you’re crazy, baby, so am I. My skin tingles when you’re battling the

storm. I can feel it radiating out of you.”

Madam

“We’ve found ways of managing the—”
“No we haven’t. I have to hit you harder each time this happens. If we allow it to

escalate, I’m going to hurt you badly. Spanking is one thing, but I won’t risk damaging

you.”

She threw up her hands in exasperation. “We’ve tried everything else. Pain is the

only thing that gives me any relief.”

“I want to take you to a mystic healer.”
“No!” She twisted away from him, furiously shaking her head. “You know what

they did to my sister. You know what they did to me! How can you even suggest it?”

“That was a small group of twisted fanatics. All mystics are not like them.”
She took a deep breath and glared at him, unwilling to bend on this topic. “My

answer is no. Don’t bring it up again.”

Defiance gleamed in his dark eyes. He was the powerful Master Z. No one dared to

deny him anything. He took a menacing step toward her and their safe word echoed in

her mind. But half an instant before she spoke, his gaze softened. His jaw was still set,

his lips thinned, yet tenderness eroded the sharp edges of his determination.

“I only want what’s best for you.” He tucked the silky strands of her pale blue hair

behind her ear. “I can’t stand watching you suffer.”

She laughed and arched her brow as she stared up at him. “I’ve seen you swing

your whip often enough to know you enjoy inflicting pain.”

“Only when my partner craves the pain I inflict. You don’t enjoy pain. You allow

yourself to be hurt to achieve a temporary reprieve from whatever is growing inside

you.”

Before she could reply, a rhythmic beeping signaled that someone was waiting for

admittance into the room. Paul turned toward the security grid and said, “Display zone

eight.” The main floor image disappeared and the staircase outside their office came

into view. “Where the hell is Kelly?” The guard station at the base of the stairs was

empty and a middle-aged man in a cheap suit stood on the other side of the door. “May

I help you?”

The man held the back of his hand toward the camera, displaying the badge

tattooed into his skin. “Officer Mercer, Interplanetary Affairs. I have a few questions for

you, Mr. Zettalli. I promise it won’t take long.”

“Give me just a minute. I have a vidcom on hold.” The officer nodded and Paul

quickly gathered the evidence of their play, tossing everything into the compartment

behind his desk.

His actions amused Misty Blue. This was the Comet Coalition’s most notorious sex

club. No one would be surprised to find sex paraphernalia lying about in this office.

Paul slipped in behind his desk and straightened his tie.

“Ready?” She waited for his nod. “Release privacy hold on office door,” she told the

computer.

Aubrey Ross

The door slid open and Officer Mercer strode into the office. His steps faltered as

his hazel eyes took in the security grid. “That’s quite a view you’ve got there,” he

muttered. “Do your guests know you spy on them?”

“My guests expect discretion and an environment in which they can explore the full

range of sexual expression. Feeling safe is the first step on that road. I can’t ensure their

safety if I’m not able to detect trouble and defuse dangerous escalations.”

“I didn’t ask for a justification. I asked if your clients were made aware of the

surveillance in seemingly private areas of the club? Such infringements are against the

law.”

Paul crossed his arms over his chest and met the officer’s antagonistic stare without

hesitation or hostility. “All safety precautions are covered in the new member

orientation. Warning placards are also posted in all private rooms. What does this have

to do with interplanetary security?”

“Nothing.” Mercer approached the desk, his gaze fixed on Paul. The arrogant jerk

had obviously dismissed her as incidental. “I’m searching of Tamara Owens. Do you

know how to reach her?”

“Petra’s daughter?” Paul looked at her, his confusion obvious. “She’s sent me

several textcoms, but I’ve never been in the same room with her.”

“I’ll need a copy of those messages.”
“Why? Tell me what this is about or I’ll com my lawyer.”
Mercer reached into his jacket and Paul tensed, rolling back his chair as he jerked

open the top drawer of his desk. The officer laughed. “Easy there. I went through the

munitions scanner just like everyone else.” He withdrew a photo and placed it on the

desktop. “Do your recognize any of these people?”

After studying the image for a moment, Paul rattled off, “The man with his cock in

her mouth is Morton Tulain. He’s one of our Pleasure Masters. It’s hard to tell for sure,

but I think the man on his knees is Mort’s younger brother. I don’t remember his

name.”

Intrigued by the description, Blue moved up beside Paul and looked at the

photograph. “The one behind her is Kacey Lennon or Lemmone. Something like that.

His first name is definitely Kacey.”

Mercer looked at her for the first time, his gaze narrowed and assessing. “And you

are?”

“My business partner,” Paul supplied. “This wasn’t taken in the Palace. Looks more

like a hotel or a cheap apartment. But even if it had taken place here, they’re all

obviously of age. What’s the issue?”

Reluctantly shifting his gaze back to Paul, Mercer almost smiled. “You honestly

don’t recognize the woman?”

They exchanged confused glances before Paul asked, “Is there some reason we

should?”

Madam

“That’s Tamara Owens, your new boss.” He withdrew a folded document and

handed it to Paul. “I have a warrant granting me permission to search the premises.

That will doubtlessly disrupt business and make your clients feel—unsafe? It will be

better for everyone if you just take me to her room. I promise I’ll be discreet.”

Paul’s brows knitted for a second, but the rest of his features remained still. “You’re

going to arrest her for participating in a quad? There’s no law against having an

adventurous sex life.”

Mercer was unmoved by Paul’s argument. “A security camera caught Ms. Owens

getting off a tram not far from here, so we know she’s in the area. Your loyalty is

commendable, but there is no need for you to become involved. She owns this

establishment. It only makes sense that she’d hide out here. Now take me to her room

or I’ll call in the Enforcers and we’ll conduct a room-by-room search.”

“What do you think she’s done?” Blue asked. The picture was evidence, but this

was obviously not about sex.

“Morton Tulain is dead, and according to Kacey Lemington, Tamara Owens is the

one who killed him.”

* * * * *

Tamara stared out the wide picture window in her suite at the Fantasy Forum,

transfixed by the flickering skyline of New Shardrake. The urban towers and dramatic

spires, though impressive and exciting, were so different from the lush parks and

stately academic halls of d’Arrest that she felt completely out of place. Isolated and

abandoned.

What had she been thinking coming to Halley Prime? Jericho James was part of her

mother’s world. They’d both built empires on the backs of pleasure givers, and Tamara

knew little more about him than she knew about her mysterious mother. As current

owner of the Pleasure Palace, Tamara was technically Jericho’s competitor. He had no

reason whatsoever to help her.

And yet he had helped her once before.
He’d sheltered her when she had nowhere else to turn, kept her safe until the

danger passed. But the danger hadn’t ended. And her life would never be the same.

She was the daughter of Halley Prime’s most notorious madam. And now everyone

in the Comet Coalition knew it.

Turning from the window, she kicked off her shoes and took off her jacket, laying it

neatly over the back of a chair. Then she wandered around the luxurious suite, feeling

lost and powerless. The plain truth was she’d had nowhere else to go and no one else

she could trust.

But could she trust Jericho? What motivated a man like him to help someone like

her?

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He’d gained nothing by helping her before. Was he hoping for a payoff this time?

She doubted that wanting her body was enough of a motivation to make him risk his

safety. He could have any woman he wanted. Still, he didn’t seem like the type to take

advantage of a vulnerable woman. She didn’t know him well enough to guess at

another motivation. All she could do was be aware of the possible dangers and proceed

with the utmost caution.

The visitor alert sounded and she moved toward the door. “Display corridor.” A

small security screen activated beside the door, revealing the domestibot waiting with

its hover cart.

“Room service, courtesy of Mr. James,” the sleek, silver robot announced.
Tamara sighed. She’d been hoping for a visit from Mr. James himself, but she tried

to suppress her disappointment. Jericho had a hotel to run. She wasn’t his only guest.

“Come in.”

The door slid open and the domestibot pushed the cart into the room. Jericho

blocked the door with his hand and slipped in after the robot. “Did you miss me?”

Heat spread across her cheeks and her heart fluttered wildly. “You’re a wicked

tease.”

“You have no idea.” He strode toward her, green eyes narrowed and gleaming. “I

hope you’re hungry. I’m ravenous.”

Her nipples tingled and she missed the concealing thickness of her jacket. All he’d

have to do was glance down and her ivory silk blouse would expose her hunger. Maybe

she’d better reconsider that not taking advantage of vulnerable women part. He was all

debonair charm and predatory grace now, where he’d seemed almost brotherly earlier.

Before her body could give away her unwanted reaction, she directed the ’bot

toward the small dining room, allowing herself a moment to regain her composure.

He stood directly in front of her when she turned back around. “Is the room

comfortable? Did you discover anything you lack?”

“The room is amazing.” She refused to cower before his strategic intensity. If he

was expecting the emotionally fragile female he’d encountered in his office, he was in

for a surprise. Her moments of weakness were few and far between. In fact, she

couldn’t remember the last time anything had upset her enough to make her cry.

“You’ve been more than generous.”

“Then why do I still see fear in your eyes?” He brushed the corner of her eye with

his knuckle then slowly lowered his hand.

The barest hint of a touch was designed to make her want more, to make her

imagine other intimacies, more daring caresses. Too many of her students had flirted

with her for her not to recognize the signs. Jericho was coming on to her.

So what should she do about it? Did she really want to be a notch in the bedpost of

someone like Jericho? His sexual experience so outmatched hers that they were barely

Madam

playing the same game. No, that was the problem. Sex had never been a game with her,

and he made his living off recreational carnality.

He’d changed his clothes, replacing his business suit with black pants and a short-

sleeved shirt, the same emerald green as his eyes. Though technically casual, Jericho’s

striking features and regal bearing made the outfit elegant. The man probably looked

good in pajamas, or better yet, in nothing at all.

“It’s not fear.” She dragged her mind away from its naughty tangent and focused

on the challenge before her. Resisting Jericho James! “It’s caution. I’ve had enough time

to calm down and realize I jumped from the frying pan into the fire.” Fortifying herself

with a deep breath, she raised her gaze back to his. “I’ve thrown myself on the mercy of

the competition. Not my wisest move in anyone’s book.”

One of his dark brows arched. “Do you intend to keep the Pleasure Palace?”
“No.” He didn’t touch her again, yet he remained close, blocking her path to the

dining room. “I have no interest in running a sex club.”

“Then I’m no danger to you.”
She rubbed her upper arms, knowing her nipples were still hard. “Somehow, I

doubt that very much.”

The domestibot rolled past, departing with a soft, “Enjoy your evening.”
Rather than respond to her charge, Jericho swept his arm toward the dining room.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I brought a little of everything.”

He turned sideways, yet his lean body still took up most of the space between the

edge of the sofa and the wall. If she went around, it would be obvious she was avoiding

him. Half expecting him to trap her against the wall, she quickly slipped past and made

a beeline for the table. It was a hollow victory. The heat from his body and the rich,

spicy scent of his cologne wrapped around her and lingered, teasing her senses as

effectively as if he had touched her.

She quickly took her place at the table, not giving him time to seat her. His patient

smile made it obvious he’d noticed the small rebellion. Why was she feeling so

antagonistic? She’d asked him for help. He hadn’t shown up on d’Arrest offering to

rescue her.

“Did the rest of your afternoon go well?” Small talk generally annoyed her. She just

wasn’t sure what else to say.

He uncovered the dishes the domestibot had arranged on the table and set the

domed lids on the cart. “I have wine, beer, coffee and tea. Or I can order something else

if you prefer.”

She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she really needed to relax. “I’d love a glass of

wine. Thank you.”

“Help yourself to whatever you like.” He pushed back his chair and moved to the

other side of the cart, retrieving a bottle from the lower section.

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Her stomach growled and she realized a meal replacement bar was as close as she’d

come to food since the nightmare began. Fear and fury were excellent appetite

suppressers. She spooned small portions of several of the dishes onto her plate, hoping

she could work her way through the variety before her stomach tied in knots again.

Jericho handed her a glass of rosé, his fingertips intentionally brushing hers. “It’s a

little on the sweet side. If you don’t like it, let me know and I’ll order something else.”

He’d chosen a beer for himself.

She tasted the wine and smiled. “It’s fine. In fact, I like it a lot.”
“Good. It’s tricky to find something that goes with all of this.” He indicated the

cluttered table then reached for a serving dish and began to fill his plate. “What did

Matt tell you about your mother? Did you honestly have no idea she was still alive until

he showed up on d’Arrest?”

“Not much, and looking back, there were many clues, but at the time, I didn’t see

them.”

He smiled—his gaze warm and caressing. “You’re curious by nature. Our short

acquaintance has taught me that. Did you, by chance, do some research once you’d

returned to your homeworld?”

She chuckled. “It only seemed fair. I realized Petra’s actions and decisions had been

shaping my life since I was five, yet I didn’t even know what she looked like.”

“And what did you discover?”
“From her perspective, she didn’t abandon me. She gave me away to protect me

then remained in the shadows so I wouldn’t be tainted by her reputation.”

“But from your perspective it wasn’t that noble?”
He wasn’t making it easy to eat. Her past was nearly as upsetting as her future.

Even from the grave, her mother had spread chaos through her life. “She was very

young when she had me, fifteen or sixteen. All mention of her family is sketchy. It’s

almost as if she purposely scrubbed the records to make it look as if they didn’t exist.”

A secretive smile parted his lips and she narrowed her gaze. “Do you know who her

parents were?”

“There are all sorts of rumors, from foreign dignitaries to the VinDerleys. I honestly

don’t know, but I’ve always suspected it was someone way up there in the social

echelon.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll probably never know. For whatever reason, she severed all

ties with her family and set off on her own. She knew she would never be able to keep

me safe, but she was able to provide for me. So, she became my anonymous benefactor.

Her money allowed me to go to college and escape the work camps on Wirtanen, which

was the usual fate for a ward of the state.”

His voice lowered and softened as he asked, “Did you grow up in a foster family or

in an orphanage?”

Madam

“I was placed with a foster family until I was thirteen then in a group home until I

graduated from high school.”

“Why were you switched?”
“Because I was a royal pain in the ass.” She shook her head. It had been a really

long time since she thought about all this, and she couldn’t remember ever having

shared the memories with another person. “My foster parents were fine. I was never

abused or neglected. I was just restless and discontent. They had six foster children,

which as probably too many. But they did the best they could. I was a typical teenage

girl with more ammunition to use against them than most. They got tired of hearing ‘I

don’t have to do what you say. You’re not my parents.’ So they reluctantly requested a

reassignment. I still com my foster mother from time to time. My foster father died six

years ago.”

“And you’ve been on your own since you were eighteen?”
“Seventeen. My birthday is in the summer.” She let the memories slip back into the

past where they belonged. The situation was complicated enough without infusing it

with teenage angst. “If I sell the Pleasure Palace immediately, would I still need a new

identity or do you think that would defuse the situation?”

He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “You intend to run?”
“Why do you sound surprised? Please don’t say Petra would never have run from a

fight. I’ve accepted that she was my mother, but I am not Petra!”

Setting down the fork, he studied her for a silent moment then asked, “Why are you

here? If you intend to run, why didn’t you just take off from d’Arrest and disappear?”

She took a sip of wine and then another, unable to answer his question. “I don’t

know. I just reacted.”

“Flight or fight.” He picked up his beer bottle but didn’t raise it to his lips. “It’s an

instinctive response built into most humanoid species. Instinctively you chose to fight.

You ran toward the source of the conflict, not away from it.”

She’d been so angry and so devastated. It was almost as if she’d been on auto pilot.

She’d needed to lash out, needed to…fight back? Yet she hadn’t even been sure where

to begin. She purged the speculation with a heavy sigh. “But they’ve already won. I’m

ruined. I can never go back to the life I had before.”

“Perhaps your days as a history professor are over, but your life doesn’t have to be.

You now posses the resource to shape your future into anything you like.”

“But not if I’m running scared?”
He nodded then took a swig of beer. “Once you give in to your fear, you’ll never

stop running. You’ll look over your shoulder for the rest of your life.”

She knew he was right. Her attacker was basically blackmailing her, and paying a

blackmailer always led to bigger demands. She had to find the bastard and make sure

they realized she would never give in to threats. “I’m sure as hell not going to live like

that, so I guess I’m here to fight.”

Aubrey Ross

Jericho smiled and set down his beer. “Now that’s more like it.”
They fell into a companionable silence as they ate. Tamara was lost in thought and

Jericho was busy watching her. She felt his gaze on her but ignored the distraction. She

needed an ally, a partner she could trust implicitly. The only way that could happen

was if they were on equal footing. She needed his expertise, his contacts and guidance,

which meant she needed something of equal value to offer him.

He had wealth and notoriety, more willing women than any man could hope to bed

in one lifetime. There was only one thing she possessed that he couldn’t easily attain.

She set down her fork and wiped her mouth. “Do you have any interest in the Pleasure

Palace?”

His gaze turned smoky, impossible to read, but not before she saw a sly

consideration flash across his features. “In what way?”

She laughed. “You can sell almost any expression, but coy doesn’t work for you.

There are many advantages to having a monopoly, as I’m sure you’re aware. If you help

me expose whoever is trying to harm me, I will give you an opportunity to buy the

Pleasure Palace before I put it on the market.”

“I already told you I’d help you. Why make me this offer?”
“Because I don’t want to be in your debt.” She stared into his eyes, refusing to

consider how fast her heart was beating or the odd tingling of her lips. “Quid pro quo.

This has to be an even exchange or I’ll figure things out on my own.”

Madam

Chapter Three

Fenton Cramark clasped his hands behind his back as he circled the young man

fidgeting on the simple wooden chair. Coming to the fool’s apartment had been a risk.

Even the shabbier sections of New Shardrake were covered with scanners and security

cams. But Fenton had seen no other way to manage the situation. Young Victor was

growing restless, and it was not yet time for him to actively participate in the drama.

“We’ve done everything you asked.” Vic turned his shaggy head from side to side,

avoiding Fenton’s gaze. Good. Intimidation could be so useful when utilized with care.

“Can’t you just leave me alone now?”

“My plans are unfolding right on schedule.” He glanced around the main room of

the apartment. It was messy and common, much like its occupant. “You and Kacey

have been very cooperative.”

An unexpected surge of spirit raised Vic’s head and narrowed his eyes. “What

about Mort? Was my brother ‘very cooperative’ or did you kill him because he

wouldn’t play this twisted game? I know you’re the one who killed him, no matter

what Kacey says!”

“You know no such thing.” Fenton stopped directly in front of the young man,

brow raised in challenge. “You suspect I’m responsible for Mort’s death, but you have

no proof of my involvement. Enforcers deal in facts, not speculation.”

Vic ignored the criticism, but he pressed against the back of the chair, taking

himself as far away from Fenton as possible. “Who’s the professor? Why do you hate

her so much?” As fast as his spirit had flared, it slipped away, like muddy footprints in

a deluge. “Was whatever she did worth my brother’s life?” His jaw clenched and he

openly glared, but his lips began to tremble.

It was a damn good thing he’d stopped by tonight. He’d had no idea Vic’s

bitterness had progressed this rapidly. He’d expected grief to keep the lad malleable for

some time to come. “Mort’s death was part of a larger puzzle, it’s true. But his actions

alone cost him his life.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Vic shot to his feet, hands fisted at his

sides. “Mort never hurt no one! He was a good man.”

“He was a pervert who bound helpless women in chains and whipped them until

their flesh bled.” Fenton kicked aside the chair and resumed his circular trek, always

within reach of his enraged minion.

“It wasn’t like that.”
“He would fuck them while they begged for mercy, at times accompanied by

others.”

Aubrey Ross

“He was a Pleasure Master. The women could have stopped him at any time—”
“They were bound and gagged.” He leaned in and whispered, “How does one use a

safe word when one is unable to speak?”

Growing progressively more agitated, Vic looked at him then away, his brow

knitted, eyes glassy. “There are contracts and interviews. Mort has a waiting list for new

clients. He never hurt anyone. Not like you make it sound.”

“The Pleasure Palace is a gateway to hell, inhabited by demons and other evil

spirits.” Fenton clasped Vic’s chin, staring into his eyes. “It must be destroyed.”

“Okay, whatever.” Vic grabbed Fenton’s wrist, trying to pull his hand away from

his face. “I don’t work at the Pleasure Palace, and neither does Kacey.”

“You agreed to have sex with that prostitute while I took pictures, and you’ve

already spent my money. Doesn’t that make you as morally deficient as the employees

at the Pleasure Palace?”

Vic jerked his head to the side then twisted away completely. “What do you want

from me? You already took the only family I have.”

Empathy echoed through Fenton for one useless instant. The utter destruction of his

family was what had set this ordeal in motion. His loss could never be replaced, but he

could make damn sure no one else suffered a similar fate.

“Kacey has proved his loyalty to me. Your time is fast approaching.” He took a

deep breath and reached for his most valuable weapon. Intimidation. If he couldn’t

frighten Vic into behaving, Fenton would have to do something more drastic. “Your

girlfriend is lovely. She waited on me yesterday. Serra. Such a pretty name.”

Like a match put to tender, Vic came to life. He grabbed the front of Fenton’s shirt

and snarled. “Don’t you dare threaten her! I’ll kill you before I let anything happen to

her.”

“Good. Then we’re agreed. You go on about your business until I’m ready for you,

and lovely Serra need never know about your antics with the prostitute.” The fight

melted out of Vic with predictable ease and Fenton couldn’t hold back a smile. “I

promise what I need you to do will not put you or Serra in danger, and I will reward

you with additional monetary compensation if you’re especially well-behaved.”

“You are such a bastard.” Vic’s voice sounded muffled and defeated.
“No. I’m an avenging angel preparing to call down God’s cleansing fire!”

* * * * *

Jericho finished his beer as he contemplated Tamara’s offer to sell him the Pleasure

Palace. He’d always felt the Palace was a cesspool where the dredges of society

gathered and indulged their darkest urges. A rather hypocritical attitude given the

nature of his business, but one he’d never been able to change. If he owned the club

tomorrow, he’d gut the place, fire all the employees and start over from scratch.

Madam

“I have no interest in buying the Pleasure Palace.” Tamara’s hopeful expression fell,

so he rushed on. “But pretending I do would give me a reason to go there and snoop

around. I could interview the staff and encourage gossips to tell me what they know.

Zettalli has every intention of making you an offer. It would definitely shake things up

if we tell him you’d sold out to me.”

“Zettalli?”
“Paul Zettalli. He was Petra’s general manager and protégé. He started out as a

Pleasure Master and ended up running the place. There’s all sorts of speculation about

how that happened.”

Her brows drew together and a new sort of hope flickered within her eyes. “Could

he be the one? Maybe he’s trying to make damn sure I sell to him.”

“It’s possible, but not probable. He would have accomplished the same thing by

doing nothing at all.” He pushed back his chair and stood, holding out his hand to her.

“You’re a history professor, for God’s sake. Everyone expects you to sell.”

In keeping with her stubborn mood, she stood without taking his hand. “Then I’m

going to do the one thing no one expects. Everything my tormentor has done has been

designed to frighten me and drive me away from the Pleasure Palace.”

A sick feeling twisted through his gut as the fire reignited in her eyes. He’d seen

that look before, burning in a far different face, driving an entirely different woman.

“What’s the one thing no one expects?” He suspected he already knew. He just wanted

to make sure they were on the same page before he freaked out.

“I’m going to become a madam.”
“No you’re not.”
She turned on him, hands on her hips, chin raised. And all he could see was Petra.

“This is not your decision to make.”

“You don’t want to go there. You have no idea what this world would do to

someone like you.”

“To someone like me? What is that supposed to mean?” Confusion softened her

expression and he saw Tamara again, a vulnerable academic completely out of her

league.

He closed the distance between them and slowly took her hand. “Someone warm

and trusting. Someone untainted by all this…excess.”

“If you feel that way about your occupation, why don’t you get out?” Her fingers

tightened just a little before she pulled her hand away. She was fighting it, but she

wasn’t immune to the attraction arcing between them.

He should discourage her, push her away as many times as it took until… She

wasn’t the one who kept touching, kept pursuing. All he needed to do was rein in his

desire and focus entirely on the danger. “Is anything ever that simple?” The question

applied to so much more than his career choices.

Aubrey Ross

She crossed the living room without a word and stepped out onto the balcony. The

night was cool and crisp, but the view was spectacular. He joined her at the rail and

looked out over the city for a moment, trying to see New Shardrake through her eyes.

There was a rhythm to the city, a palpable energy he’d found nowhere else. Did she

sense it, or was the crisis surrounding her consuming all other sensations?

“How does the Pleasure Palace differ from the Fantasy Forum?” She glanced at him

as she asked the question then quickly looked away. “Or do you basically offer the

same amenities?”

He turned and leaned his hip against the railing, finding her more interesting than

the familiar cityscape. “There are distinct differences. The Forum deals exclusively in

fantasy. I utilize simulators and provide themed settings in which couples or small

groups of willing participants enjoy their sexuality. What I do not provide is someone to

fuck.”

This obviously surprised her. She looked at him, but the fall of her hair shadowed

her face. “You don’t employ pleasure givers of any kind?”

“The only pleasure givers at the Fantasy Forum are intuitive robots. The simulators

create incredibly realistic sensations that allow clients to explore on their own. Still,

most of the reservations are made by couples or small groups. I’ve occasionally hired

live acts for the lounges, but they’re not allowed to physically interact with clients.

Doing so is grounds for immediate dismissal.”

“What’s the Palace like?” She whispered the question as if she were speaking about

something forbidden. “What would it take to convince others I was serious about

becoming its madam?”

“Would you really like to know?” He let challenge ring in his tone. She needed to

understand how unprepared she was for even a casual visit to the famed Pleasure

Palace, and he could give her that without any risk.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and light from the suite illuminated her face.

Her skin looked soft and golden, her features impossibly pure. Damn it. He felt like a

demon about to take an angel on a tour of hell. And the worst part was the darkest,

most jaded element of his personality hungered for the opportunity to touch her, taste

her—corrupt her.

“I won’t live in fear. This bastard expects me to scurry away like a frightened rabbit.

But he forgot who I am. Despite all her faults and regardless of her mistakes, Petra was

my mother.” She licked her lips and boldly met his gaze. “Pretending I want to pick up

where Petra left off will only work if people believe I’m capable of becoming a madam.

Will you please tell me what I can expect, so I don’t make a complete fool of myself?”

Captivated by her animation, he held out his hand. “I can do better than that. I can

show you.”

She placed her hand in his, but her surge of boldness faltered. “I’d rather you

describe—”

Madam

“Trust me.” He drew her back inside the suite and locked the door behind them.

“This is the Fantasy Forum, remember? I create illusions, provide private playgrounds

for people not willing to share their sexuality with the world.” He led her to the

simulator connected to the suite. “You’re not the only one who has been curious about

what goes on at the Palace but doesn’t want to actually go there.”

“You have a simulation of the Pleasure Palace?” She laughed—the sound light and

infectious. “Did Petra know about this?”

“Not at first, and when she found out, she tried all sorts of injunctions and law suits

to make me take it off the menu. I had to alter the visual esthetics and change the name

to the Pleasure Promenade, but everyone knows what the program simulates. It’s still

one of my most popular programs.” She’d gone still beside him. He could almost hear

the thoughts churning within her mind. “Go on. Let me have it. What’s bothering you?”

“Isn’t this sort of hypocritical? You obviously disapprove of the Palace, yet you’re

making money off a simulation that provides the same experience?”

He shook his head, having debated the issue long and hard within his own mind.

“It’s not the same. When the Pleasure Palace opened, the club wasn’t that different from

the Fantasy Forum. Their emphasis was BDSM, which I have no problem with. Petra

provided an environment where her clients felt safe and free to explore their sexuality.

And the Masters and Mistresses were instructors. They taught others how to attain

greater pleasure than they’d ever experienced before, but they experienced it with other

clients. The day Petra allowed her Masters and Mistresses to fuck their clients, she

crossed the line. It opened the door for escorts, pets and slaves. I don’t even want to

think about what goes on in the basement now that Matthias is gone.”

“Matthias. That’s the man named in Petra’s will. Who was he?”
“Petra left her holdings to Matthias?” That made sense. Petra had gone to great

lengths to keep Tamara insulated from scandal. Petra would have realized a sizable

inheritance would put a target on Tamara’s back.

“The probate council awarded me her estate because her chosen beneficiary was

dead and I’m her only progeny. Now who was Matthias?”

“The Toymaker.” He paused, waiting for any sign of recognition. When she gave

none, he explained, “Matthias engineered most of the equipment in both clubs,

including my simulators. He and Petra were lovers off and on for years. He died a few

months ago. He’ll be missed.” There was much more to the story, but now was not the

time to fill her in on the twists and turns.

“So you have no problem with anything that goes on inside your simulators as long

as no one is paid to participate?”

He chose his words carefully, not wanting to give too much away. “It has been my

experience that paying anyone for the use of their body objectifies the person regardless

of what they say at the time. I’ve spoken with escorts who charge extremely high fees

and claim to be happy in their situation. But inevitably it creates a void, an emotional

disconnect that makes it hard for them to form an intimate connection with anyone.”

Aubrey Ross

“It seems like you know a lot about it.” Challenge tinged her tone as she asked,

“Have you ever paid for sex?”

“No.”
Her gaze collided with his and the compassion in her gaze was so compelling, he

had to look away. “Oh Jericho, did someone pay you to have sex with them? Is that

why you can’t stand the thought of it now?”

Of all the conclusions her curious mind could have led her to, why did she have to

land on the truth? “It was a very long time ago.” Needing to regain control of his

emotions, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and tilted her face up.

“You’re just dying to hear all the sordid details. Aren’t you?” His fingers curved and his

thumb stroked the side of her neck. So soft, so fragile. “I guess we’ve finally found the

setting for our barter. I offer a glimpse into my past, a story so shameful I’ve never

shared it with another person on this planet.”

She wanted it. He could see anticipation in her eyes. She’d just shared the intimate

secrets of her past and now she wanted to understand who he was and the forces that

had shaped him. But how badly did she want it?

“What must I offer in return?” He couldn’t tell if anticipation or fear had caused the

breathlessness in her tone.

“Your obedience.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers before he added,

“You do whatever I ask inside the simulator.”

Excitement crashed through Tamara, making her pussy clench and her breath hitch.

But uncertainty threaded through the wave of desire. Could she really do anything he

told her and allow him to touch her in any way he chose? This was Jericho James! His

sexual repertoire was bound to be expansive. “How sophisticated is this simulator? Can

it produce other people?” He’d said people explore on their own, so the simulator must

be able to trigger all sorts of realistic sensations.

He just smiled and shook his head. “You either trust me or you don’t. The offer is

my past for a few hours of your present. No exceptions, no limitations. You’re mine.”

This wasn’t just about her curiosity. She needed to experience a bit of their world if

she hoped to convince anyone she had a legitimate interest in running the Pleasure

Palace. She needed to learn, so why not learn from one of the best? She took a deep

breath, trying to accept her own decision.

“Two hours,” she rushed on before she could change her mind. “But I get to ask

three questions before we start and you agree to tell me anything I want to know about

your past when we’re finished.”

“Agreed.”
Damn. That had been way too easy. Why did she care about his past anyway?

Because you just told him about yours. She sighed. She was still trying to find an equal

footing, and his disinterest in her property had made that concept almost impossible.

How could they be equals when they were so different they contrasted each other?

Madam

“The computer will verify our vaccination history before it activates the simulator,

but what about birth control?”

His question made what they were about to do unavoidably real. This wasn’t a

fantasy. She was about to have sex with Jericho. “I’m covered.”

“Good. Now ask your questions. I can’t wait to get your hair down.” His smile was

playful, but his gaze drifted lower.

“Was your client male or female?”
He chuckled. “Why do you presume there was only one?”
She covered her mouth with her hand. Maybe she didn’t want to hear about this.

Jericho seemed so likeable, so… “How many?” she whispered behind her hand. Damn

her curiosity.

“You are so incredibly naïve. I should be arrested for being in the same room with

you.” He sighed and shifted his gaze away from her face. “My first client was female.

My second paid extra so her husband could watch. Eventually he joined in.” Her eyes

widened and he laughed. “Are you positively scandalized?”

“I’m not that naïve.” She lowered her hand and squared her shoulders.
“Oh yes you are.” He placed his hand against the wall, above the control panel for

the simulator. “You have one more question. Make it count.”

Pissing him off right before he took control of her body was probably a bad idea, so

she kept it fairly simple. “How long did it go on?”

“Each session, each orgasm, each client?” She slapped his arm and he laughed, but

she didn’t miss the flicker of pain deep in his eyes. “It was the longest sixteen months of

my life.” He turned to the control panel and placed his hand on the scanner pad.

A beam of light swept across his hand then the computer said, “Vaccinations

current. Proceed.”

Jericho motioned her toward the scanner and she placed her hand on the trigger.

“Vaccinations current. Proceed.”

The unit came alive with a low hum and the door slid open a few seconds later.

“After you.” Jericho motioned her inside.

Oh boy. She felt as if she were about to dive down a rabbit hole, but at least it was a

rabbit hole of her choosing. She paused and looked at Jericho. “I have a really low pain

threshold.”

His smile was dark and wicked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Don’t I need a safe word or something?”
He moved forward, forcing her to step back, and the door slid closed behind him.

The room sealed and the simulation began. “I’m no good at games. I’ve always thought

no meant no. If you want me to stop, say stop.”

Which meant they were equally responsible for everything they did. Wasn’t that

what she’d wanted? To be treated as an equal?

Aubrey Ross

Despite her confusion, the thought made her smile. He took her by the hand, his

gaze narrowed yet bright. “What’s funny?”

“This isn’t what I expected.”
“Really?” He laughed. “We haven’t done anything yet.”
He had a point. She looked around. They stood in a lobby not unlike what she’d

seen at cineplex or other entertainment venues. “Is this to scale? It seems rather small.”

“The full-scale version only runs downstairs. This is more like a sampler platter of

Pleasure Palace treats.”

The doors across from them opened and a tall blonde hostess walked forward.

“Welcome to the Pleasure Promenade. Do you have a reservation?”

As Jericho gave the hostess their fictitious name and listed the selections he wanted

to access, Tamara studied the hostess. She seemed perfectly real. Her movements were

natural and every detail of her physical appearance led the visitor to believe that she

was a living, breathing humanoid.

“Is she a hologram?”
Tamara didn’t really expect an answer, but Jericho said, “Considering the purpose

for these simulators, that wouldn’t work for long.” The hostess smiled at her then

walked back through the double-door entrance. “You’ve never been in a simulator

before? Not even a gaming or sports simulator?”

“I’ve never had time for frivolities.”
He turned her to face him, his hands lingering on her upper arms. “I would laugh if

that wasn’t so sad. Every child needs time to play, and every teenager should rebel

against something. There is so much more to life than digital libraries and long-dead

heroes.”

Not wanting to delve any deeper into what her life lacked, she motioned toward the

doors. “What’s through there?”

One of his hands moved to the small of her back and he motioned her forward with

the other. “The program is set for fully integrated action. If you openly stare at

someone, don’t be surprised if they speak to you. No one will touch you without

permission, but the Pleasure Masters and Mistresses will offer their services.”

Her steps faltered as they emerged in a cavernous room that seemed impossible,

given the confines of the simulator. The vaulted ceilings were intricately sculpted and

inlayed with massive mirrors and gilt. From the tone-on-tone wall coverings, to the

privacy curtains, to the plush carpeting, everything was done in crimson and gold. Her

gaze skimmed over the naked and half-naked bodies as she tried to concentrate on the

elegant décor.

“How much of this is real and how much—”
“Stop thinking about the specifics of the simulation or this experience will

accomplish nothing.” His tone was gruff enough to draw her full attention. “Matthias

was a master of illusion. Yes, much of what you see is achieved through image layering

Madam

and manipulated perspective, but that’s not the point. We’re not here to redecorate.

Allow yourself to imagine what they’re feeling. See if you can figure out what brought

them here.”

The Pleasure Master nearest them had a woman bound to a spanking bench. He

stood at her side, calmly warming her upturned ass with a paddle. The woman moaned

and wiggled, her ass bright red.

“Have you ever been spanked?” Jericho asked.
“Once or twice,” she lied, not ready to admit that her experience was as limited as

he presumed.

He suddenly grasped her chin and turned her face up toward his. “Don’t lie to me. I

won’t stand for it. I will never lie to you, but I expect honesty in return.”

His sudden aggression was so out of character, a chill slid down her spine. Where

was his sexy smile and practiced charm? Open hunger burned in his eyes, making the

green brighter and the black seem endless.

“All right. I’m sorry.” She slid his fingers off her chin and eased his hand away.

“I’ve never been spanked. I’ve never done any of this.” Everywhere she looked,

someone was restrained, many contorted into positions that had to be incredibly

uncomfortable. People were being spanked, flogged, even caned. Nipples were clipped

and cocks were encased in straps and studded leather. Cocks pushed into eager pussies,

wet mouths and well-lubed asses. Pleasure came in every gender, size and color

combination. Tamara had never imagined anything so decadent, yet it all blended

together in an ever-changing kaleidoscope of lust.

“There.” Jericho pointed to an area slightly to their left. “Watch just that scene for a

moment and tell me what you see.”

The woman was bound in an elaborate harness and suspended in midair. Her arms

and legs were spread, leaving her completely accessible to the Pleasure Master. A

heavy-looking chain connected the loops piercing the woman’s nipples, tugging and

teasing each time she jerked or twisted. The Pleasure Master said something to her and

she struggled against the straps, but anticipation tensed her features and narrowed her

gaze.

“Is she enjoying what he’s doing to her or do you believe her cries for mercy?”
“No, she wants what he’s giving her. Each time he looks away, her expression

changes. She doesn’t want him to realize just how much she’s enjoying being at his

mercy.”

Jericho moved in close, pressing against her back as his arm wrapped around her.

“Is that what you were expecting, to be taken over completely, to be at my mercy?” The

Pleasure Master picked up a dildo from the nearby tray and showed it to the woman.

They spoke in hushed, anxious tones, but Tamara couldn’t make out their words. “She

wants his cock,” Jericho whispered. “She’s begging him to take her, but he’s chosen a

toy instead. What would make him withhold what she wants most? He’s denying

himself pleasure in the process.”

Aubrey Ross

“She must have disobeyed him or displeased him in some way.” The Pleasure

Master trailed his fingers across the woman’s body as he moved behind her. Tamara

could see his face for the first time and the emotion in his gaze surprised her. Even with

the upper half of his face concealed by a hooded mask, his sadness and disappointment

were obvious. “He cares for her, genuinely cares.”

“That’s the problem with pleasure givers. If they allow themselves to feel, they

leave themselves open to hurt over and over. So most turn off their emotions and

separate their soul from their bodies as they do their job. It leaves them broken.” The

sensual warmth left his voice and his arm loosened, though he didn’t release her.

The Pleasure Master positioned the toy, but Tamara couldn’t tell if he was about to

push it into the woman’s pussy or her ass. The woman cried out and shuddered. Her

breasts quivered and the chain connecting her nipples danced against her ribs.

“That isn’t what I had planned for you, but is that what you need?” Jericho’s hand

crept up, his thumb teasing the underside of her breast. “Do you want me to Master

you, to demand complete obedience without hesitation or thought?”

“No.” She answered automatically as she watched the helpless woman twist and

sway. Yet temptation took root, revealing the woman from a new perspective. She

floated, lost in a world of carnal bliss. The chain continually moved her piercings,

stimulating her tightly puckered nipples. The harness supported her while it restricted

her movements, holding her as securely as the tightest embrace. Tamara could almost

feel the smooth slide of the toy and her pussy clenched then pulsed with sudden need.

“Are you sure?” Jericho chuckled as he stepped to her side then led her deeper into

the maze.

His arm remained around her, resting at the small of her back, fingers splayed

against her side. “Where are we going?” Had her interest in the restrained woman

made him change his strategy? She’d given him two hours. That wasn’t a lot of time, or

was it? Her body was already wet and aching, and he hadn’t even touched her

intimately yet.

Without answering her question, he led her to one of the small, curtained-off areas

lining the open room. At least the fabric barrier would give them the illusion of privacy.

This isn’t real. It doesn’t matter how loud you moan or how many funny faces you make. No one

will see you… No one but Jericho.

He closed the privacy curtain, which softened the light and dampened the noises

coming off the main floor. She looked around confused yet intrigued. There wasn’t even

a bed, just two smooth poles surrounded by a thick padded mat.

“This room is the first stop for most visitors, especially those escorted by Pleasure

Masters.”

“Were you ever a Pleasure Master?” The absolute lack of emotion in his tone or

expression made the question irresistible.

“Your window into my past will be opened by your willingness to surrender.”

Madam

“Surrender? I didn’t realize we were at war.” She smiled, trying to lighten his

mood. He was taking this all way too seriously.

“We are not at war.” His expression didn’t change. If anything it grew more

intense. “You’re emotionally guarded. You’ve never had anyone in your life who you

could count on, so you keep yourself distanced, protected from possible hurt.”

“You know me so well after sharing one meal with me?”
“I knew you that well after looking into your eyes the first time.” He took her by the

hand and led her toward the poles, but his gaze lingered on her face. “It’s my business

to anticipate the needs of others. It’s made me a damn good judge of character.”

She didn’t argue with him. His assessment of her character was pretty accurate. She

didn’t think she deserved the “emotionally guarded” label, but it did take her a long

time to trust anyone. “If we aren’t at war, then to whom or what shall I surrender?”

“Yourself. You’re a passionate woman, capable of great emotional depth, but you

have to be willing to make yourself vulnerable. Your logical, protective mind must

surrender to your elemental need for affection. For pleasure.” He added the last with a

challenging smile and let go of her hand. She stood between the poles fully dressed and

still a bit confused. “I could bind you to the poles and explore your body as I like, but

that would make things too easy. You need to offer yourself willingly.”

She licked her lips, already feeling exposed. “Isn’t that what I did when I came in

here with you?”

“Lower loops.” She didn’t understand his response until slits opened in the poles

about two feet above her head and leather loops slowly extended. “You’ll slip your

hands through the loops and hold on. The loops will not tighten. You will be able to

pull free at any time, which means you will be my willing captive, your body freely

offered for my pleasure—and yours.”

Her gaze shifted from one loop to the other as her mind imagined all the things

they could do while she stood there holding those loops. She’d never had a lover

command her, never ventured far from the missionary position. Jericho was the

personification of her secret fantasies, the proverbial bad boy no female could resist.

She wanted this, needed it. And not just so she’d understand what attracted people

to the Pleasure Palace. Being around Jericho made her bold, made her long for more

than her overly structured, often predictable life. She took a deep breath and reached

for the loops.

“Not yet.” Jericho clasped his hands behind his back and grinned. “You can’t take

hold of the loops unless you’re naked.”

Aubrey Ross

Chapter Four

Tamara crossed her arms over her chest and stared past him, obviously

uncomfortable with his directive. Jericho fought back the urge to reassure her, to pull

her into his arms and feel her snuggle against his chest as she’d done in his office. She

needed this release on so many levels, but she had to take this first step alone.

“Can’t you dim the lights or—”
“No.”
Her gaze snapped back to his. Irritation made her irises appear more purple than

blue and his chest tightened. “Are you going to undress too?”

“Not right now.” Summoning the control he’d mastered through years of

discipline, he moved closer without touching her. “You asked for a glimpse inside the

Pleasure Palace. If this is too much for you, we don’t have to continue.”

Just as he’d expected, her chin came up and she uncrossed her arms. “I’m not

afraid. I just don’t understand why I have to—”

“I’m not going to argue with you. You said you’d obey. If you’ve changed your

mind, we’ll end the simulation and I’ll go back to work.”

Spirit gleamed even brighter within her gaze and she kicked off her shoes. She

unbuckled the thin golden belt at her waist and unzipped her pants. The matching

jacket had been absent when he arrived with the dinner cart, and her hardened nipples

were visible beneath her silk blouse. She unbuttoned her blouse, but left it on as she

took off her pants. He held out his hand when she looked around for a place to put

them. Her blouse followed and then she hesitated again.

“All of it.” She looked lovely in the ivory lacy underwear, but this was about

surrender.

She unfastened the bra and averted her gaze as she handed it to him. Her breasts

weren’t large, but they were firm and her lush pink nipples contrasted nicely with the

honey tones in her skin. After another pause, she wiggled out of her panties and tossed

them in his general direction. She still wasn’t looking at him. He opened the curtain just

wide enough to hand the bundle to a passing attendant.

“What will they do with my clothes? I’d like them back at some point.”
“I’ll ask the attendant to return them when we’re ready to go.”
After accepting his explanation with a stiff nod, she caught her lower lip between

her teeth and raised her arms. She slipped her hands through the loops and grasped the

leather then looked into his eyes. Despite her surges of spirit, she was afraid. Still, he’d

only begun to unravel the cause.

Madam

He walked around her in a slow, assessing circle, gaze moving up and down. Her

trim waist created a nice indentation before the womanly flare of her hips. Long, supple

legs hinted at regular exercise and her nicely rounded ass would fit perfectly in the

palms of his hands.

“You certainly have nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart.” He completed the circle

and drew his gaze back to her face. “Why were you so reluctant to undress?”

“Everything about this is designed to make me feel vulnerable. You can’t be

surprised when it works.”

“Fair enough.” He lightly stroked the underside of her arm, just the barest touch of

his fingertips to establish a physical connection. “Would you like to know what I see

when I look at you?”

“Probably not, but I suspect you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“How’d you guess?” He repeated the caress on the other side, bringing their bodies

even closer. He reached behind her and unfastened the large barrette. Her hair spilled

free and he arranged the soft waves around her face and across her shoulders. “Your

hair is lovely. You should wear it down more often.”

“It makes me look younger and my job is easier when my students don’t see me as

a peer.”

Tucking the strands behind her ears, he turned his attention to her face. “Your skin

begs to be touched. Even from a distance it looks soft.” He followed the contour of her

cheek, circled the outer rim of her ear then gently raised her face as he slid his fingers

down toward her chin. “And your eyes—unique and vibrant yet incredibly expressive.”

“Which is a nice way of saying I wear my heart on my sleeve?”
He smiled. It was surprisingly difficult to give her a compliment. He traced her lips

with his thumb, easing inside, hoping she’s nip at him or touch him with her tongue.

She just stared at him, tense and silent. He shifted his thumb to her chin and leaned in,

watching her eyes as their faces neared. At the last moment her lids shut and a soft sigh

escaped from between her lips.

Brushing his lips back and forth over hers, he waited for her reaction. Her lower lip

trembled and she didn’t turn away, but she was motionless, unresponsive. He kissed

the corners of her mouth, determined not to frighten her.

His assertive nature balked and bucked, desperate to claim her. But she needed to

know she could trust him before he unleashed his sexual dominance.

“I never go where I’m not welcome,” he whispered against her lips.
She made a soft sound part whimper, part cry. Then her head tilted and her lips

parted. He slid his lips over hers and she echoed the motion. His hand slipped into her

hair and adjusted the angle of her head. He hadn’t meant the move to be aggressive, but

she gasped then shivered.

Her body tensed and he waited for her to pull away. Instead she arched, pressing

her breasts against his chest as her tongue lightly traced his lower lip. Understanding

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slammed into him and his fingers tightened in her hair. Holding back was

counterproductive. She needed his aggression as much as he needed to be aggressive.

He took control of the kiss, sealing his lips over hers while his tongue pushed into her

mouth.

The kiss took on a life of its own as her tongue curled around his. He wrapped his

arm around her, drawing her flush with his body. Suddenly his clothes felt oppressive.

He wanted to feel her, skin to skin, feel the urgent grind of her pussy against his thigh.

Not yet! He had to slow down. But her taste was addictive and her response spiked

his arousal, threatening his control. He wanted to free his aching cock and wrap her

legs around his waist. Was she wet enough to take him?

He tore his mouth away from hers, panting harshly against her cheek. “That’s more

like it.” He eased his upper body back while keeping their lower bodies aligned. “Can

you feel how hard you’ve made me?” She nodded, her gaze locked with his. “Are you

wet?” Again a nod was her only reply. “I want to be inside you so bad I can hardly

breathe, but I need something else from you first.”

“What?” Her voice sounded breathless and urgent, which only made it that much

harder for him to resist temptation.

Staring deep into her eyes he squeezed her breast, his thumb lightly rubbing her

nipple. “I want to watch you come.”

“I don’t think I can if you’re just standing there watching.”
He bent and suckled, leaving her nipple wet and puckered as he said, “Let’s find

out.” He returned to her breast and teased with his lips and tongue. When she

squirmed beneath his mouth, he caught the tip between his teeth, applying gradual

pressure. Her distressed yelp made him release, but he only moved to her other breast.

Her hips began a telltale rocking as she rubbed against his thigh. He eased his hand

between their bodies and curved his fingers over her mound. For a long moment he just

touched her while his mouth lavished attention on her breasts.

“How are you doing this?” Her thighs shook and her abdomen quivered.
He raised his head and stared deep into her eyes. “Show me.” His middle finger

pushed between her folds and he groaned. She felt warm against his palm, but her

crease enfolded his finger in liquid heaven. He found her clit and flicked it with his

fingertip. She bucked her hips, trying to bring his caress back in contact with the

sensitive bud. He circled her, loving the way her clit twitched beneath the pad of his

finger. “Come for me.”

Her lashes lowered, but she didn’t close her eyes. She moved with the motion of his

finger, lips parted, nipples hard. “In me,” she whispered. “I need something to

squeeze.”

Reluctant to lose the press of her soft body, he moved back far enough to maneuver

his hand between her thighs. “Like this?” He pushed two fingers into her wet pussy

and watched pleasure ignite within her eyes.

Madam

She rocked her hips while her inner muscles squeezed. Rather than fuck her with

his hand, he let her ride his fingers. He passed his thumb over her clit at the apex of

each stroke and felt her core tighten in response. Her beasts bounced and her eyes

burned. She was abandoned and beautiful, even more amazing than he’d imagined.

He felt her presence brush against his mind and nearly lost his rhythm. Her touch

was weak and unskilled, almost involuntary. Rather than distract her with a response,

he opened for her, offering his psychic energy as he often did with weakened mystics.

Her being latched on and drew long, hungry pulls across their fragile link. The sudden

withdrawal made him shiver, but he remained open and let her feed.

Suddenly she thrust so hard her feet nearly left the mat. A strangled cry escaped her

throat and her body arched. Her pussy rippled and squeezed as she lost herself in

pleasure. Her eyes burned like purple flames, gleaming yet unfocused. He’d never seen

anything so beautiful.

He stroked her clit, prolonging her orgasm as his balls ached for release. Her

presence slipped from his mind, receding with the pleasure. He watched her face,

searching for any hint that she had fed from him intentionally. Did his enigmatic guest

even realize she was a mystic?

Tamara returned to reality gradually. Her eyes refocused and she found herself

staring into Jericho’s smoldering gaze. “That was amazing.” His fingers were still inside

her and his thumb kept launching little aftershocks of sensation. “I’ve never come that

hard before.”

“You never allowed yourself to let go, to surrender to the pleasure.”
He slowly removed his fingers, shifting his hand back to its earlier position with his

middle finger over her clit. She jerked as his fingertip passed over the ultrasensitive

nub. “That’s not what I need.”

“I know what you need.” He caught her clit between his thumb and forefinger then

added, “Do you trust me with your pleasure?”

She held perfectly still, unsure what he would do if she said no. He’d just given her

the most powerful orgasm of her life. How could she doubt his skill? “Yes.” He rolled

her clit between his finger and thumb, creating a sensation she’d never experienced

before. A pulling, melting sort of flow that drew heat and pressure into her pussy. She

moaned and squeezed her eyes shut, half afraid she’d come again with just that one

touch.

He released her clit and she opened her eyes. A smile bowed his lips as he

unbuckled his belt and lowered his zipper. There wasn’t a bed or even a chair, so he

must intend to fuck her standing up. She gripped the loops, uncertainty flaring within

her. What if she was too heavy? She’d die of embarrassment if he tried to…

Rather than free his cock, he sank to his knees and grasped the back of her knee. He

had her leg draped over his shoulder and his lips pressed against her sex before she

Aubrey Ross

understood what he intended. His tongue explored her slit, stoking her folds and her

outer lips rather than working his way between.

This wasn’t the first time a lover had gone down on her, but Jericho didn’t just lick

her clit with the specific purpose of triggering an orgasm. He kissed her and sucked, his

mouth gentle yet thorough.

Only after her pussy tingled and her core clenched with need did he part her folds

and delve deeper. His tongue swept over and around her clit, the soft, swirling caress

all she could stand. One of his hands held her steady while the other reached up and

cupped her breast. Her skin felt hot and her leg trembled, threatening to collapse

beneath her.

His tongue pushed into her passage and she gasped. He was fucking her with his

tongue! Over and over his tongue thrust inside her while his upper lip pressed against

her clit. Tingles gathered, churning beneath his mouth. She canted her hips, wanting

him deeper, needing more.

An orgasm hovered just out of reach, but the swirling sensations felt so damn good

she didn’t care. Suddenly his mouth lifted and her leg slid off his shoulder. He caught

the bend of her knee with his elbow as he shot to his feet. His hand brushed against her

sopping folds and she felt his hips shift, and then his cock pressed against her, parting

her folds to nestle within her opening.

“Look at me.” His voice growled with urgency.
She looked into his eyes and he pulled her closer, driving his cock deeper into her

body. Her pussy opened for him, spreading around him until the pressure made her

gasp. “Are you…enhanced?”

He chuckled, male pride shining in his gaze. “It’s just the position, doll.” He stilled

and the playful spark cooled. “Unless I’m hurting you.” He started to pull back, but she

angled her leg and pressed her heel against his ass.

“It doesn’t hurt.”
“All right. Then wrap your legs around me.”
Tightening her hold on the loops, she pushed off the mat and lifted with her arms.

He helped her up and settled her legs around his waist then slowly slid her down. His

shaft drove deeper and deeper, not stopping until she had taken his entire length.

“I won’t move until you’re ready.” He folded his arms beneath her hips, easing the

pressure on her arms.

“Ready?” She laughed. “I’ve been ready since we walked into this infernal thing.”
Their gazes locked and his hands cupped her behind as he began long, steady

strokes. She rolled her hips and concentrated on the slide. His arms supported most of

her weight, yet he didn’t miss a beat, his movements strong and sure.

His eyes darkened, passion consuming the vivid green until all that remained was

his ink-black pupils. It made him look wild, as if some primitive nature lurked beneath

his civilized façade. He thrust harder, increasing the depth of each lunge.

Madam

She couldn’t really move—could only accept what he gave as he drove them both

toward completion. Her breasts bounced and her inner muscles rippled.

“Unhook. Your. Ankles.” He punctuated each word with the rocking of his hips.

“Now!”

Her ankles uncrossed and her weight settled more fully on his arms. He adjusted

his stance and shifted the angle of her pelvis. His shaft dragged across her clit, a distinct

caress with each firm stroke.

Pleasure cascaded through her body. Her womb fluttered and her pussy tightened.

The sensations peaked and she cried out, shocked by the violence of her orgasm. She

tossed her head and moaned as the spasms went on and on.

Lights danced before her eyes, so she closed them, flowing with the currents of

ecstasy. Images flickered within her mind, flashing and rolling in a dizzying rush.

Confused and frightened, she opened her eyes and fought against the sensory

downpour. But the vision stabbed into her brain, forcing the images deeper.

Jericho thrust up into her, back arching as he came. His pelvis ground against hers,

prolonging the pleasure for both of them. She felt his cock jerk inside her, but she was

trapped by the vision, forced to watch the scene unfold with shocking detail. She

wrapped her legs around him and released the loops as he pressed her to his chest.

Gradually the images faded and her mind began to clear.

“I just…”
“I know. Relax and let it pass.”
How could he know? What was happening to her?
For a long time she just clung to him, panting and dazed.
“I need to set you down. Are you steady enough to stand?”
She nodded and lifted her head to look around. Reality came back into focus as he

lifted her off his cock. Her legs wobbled but held. Why was she so shaky?

“You’re still really pale.” He quickly pulled up his pants then wrapped his arm

around her waist. “Do you need to sit down?”

“Did you see what I saw? How did you know…?”
“Let’s get out of here then we’ll talk.”
They rushed through the main room and Jericho grabbed her clothes off the table

by the door. She didn’t care that she was naked or that she’d just had the best sex of her

life. Her ears were buzzing and she could barely think past the questions swarming her

mind.

He led her to the bathroom and turned on the shower. “Wash up while I fill the

tub.”

Too befuddled to argue, she stepped into the shower and let the warm water stream

over her body. “Are you going to join me?”

He turned from the tub, his gaze oddly cautious. “It’s better if I don’t.”

Aubrey Ross

His attitude shocked her. He’d touched her, tasted her then fucked her senseless,

but now he couldn’t share a bath with her? She faced the spray, trying to ignore the hurt

spreading through her. She’d heard rumors that people with psychic abilities were

often met with mistrust and hostility, but she’d never thought too much about it before.

She’d never dreamed mystics were anything more than fanciful stories told by

unsophisticated people. Anyone with a formal education knew there was no evidence

supporting the existence of mystics.

So how the hell was she supposed to accept what had just happened to her?
And Jericho still hadn’t explained how he’d known she had a vision? This was all so

strange.

Eager for the soothing warmth of the bath, she quickly washed then turned off the

shower. He helped her into the churning water then moved the vanity’s bench closer to

the tub, positioning it at an angle so they faced each other.

“Was that your first vision?”
“I had a vision.” She needed to say it out loud, just to establish the fact in her own

mind. “How is that possible when mystic abilities don’t exist?”

A smile caught one corner of his mouth but failed to part his lips. “Reality is a lot

more interesting than academia would have us believe.”

“How did you know I had a vision?” She slid down as far as she could, but the

water wasn’t yet deep enough to cover her breasts.

“Both of my parents had psychic abilities. My talents are limited, but my energy is

especially concentrated and compatible with mystics. Each time you came, I felt you

feed. The last time I also sensed a spike in your levels. Nothing exploded or changed

shape, so a vision was the most logical guess.”

“I fed from you?” She crossed her arms over her breasts and shook her head. “That

sounds so…vampiric. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to steal your energy.”

He leaned forward, trailing his fingertips in the water. “You didn’t hurt me, and it’s

nothing I haven’t done before.”

She relaxed enough to lower her arms. Belated modesty was rather pointless. Still, if

he wasn’t put off by her vision, why wouldn’t he join her in the tub? The water lapped

at her breasts, teasing her nipples. “Did Petra have abilities?”

“If she did, she didn’t broadcast the fact. But most people don’t.”
“You can’t blame them.” She smoothed her hair back from her face, feeling restless

and confused. “Mystics are treated like freaks on Halley Prime. In fact, the only

settlement that treats them with respect is Temple-Tuttle. And who wants to live in the

wilderness?”

“We both agree that the prejudice against mystics is ridiculous. Will you answer my

question now? Have you had visions before?”

“No. I…don’t understand any of this.”
“What did you see?”

Madam

Now that she’d accepted that the images were real, she was forced to give them

meaning. “I’m pretty sure I saw the bastard who ruined my life. He was recording the

three men and the woman who looks like me.”

“He intentionally staged the scene?” Jericho sat up straight and ran one of his hands

through his hair, eyes narrowed with speculation. “I figured he just used a random

image and modified it to look like you. Did you recognize him?”

“No. I’ve never seen him before.”
“Describe him for me.”
She shrugged. “He was tall and sort of gaunt. His hair was bluish-black and his

eyes were freakishly blue.”

“Unfortunately freakishly bright-colored eyes are all the rage this season. How

old?”

“I have no idea. Cosmetic enhancements have made it impossible to tell. He was at

least thirty, but I’d guess older.”

He nodded, obviously lost in though. “Soak for a while. I’m going to make some

calls.”

She splashed water onto her face and sank to her chin, unable to hide her

frustration. She was thrilled that she finally had a clue about the identity of her

tormentor, but couldn’t her mystic ability have waited until they were finished to kick

in? Her body still tingled from Jericho’s touch, ready for more of the amazing pleasure,

and he was out the door, his interest already waning.

* * * * *

Jericho activated the communications console in the living room then paused before

entering his brother’s access code. Tamara’s taste lingered on his tongue and her scent

sank deeper with each breath he took. He’d been with inexperienced lovers before and

they hadn’t affected him like this. He felt protective and possessive. He wanted to strip

off his clothes and sink into the water, and then sink back into her! The last thing he

needed in his life was another complication.

Then why had he agreed to help her in the first place?
Sheltering a helpless victim was one thing. He should have kept it professional,

kept himself distanced from the conflict surrounding her. He knew better than this!

Well, there was no help for it now, he was officially involved, which meant he’d see

it through to the end.

Drake responded to the first pulse of Jericho’s page, almost as if he’d been waiting

for the call. “Where the hell have you been? Is your com grid offline or something?” He

looked as impatient as he sounded.

Jericho scooted closer to the screen. “Did you learn something about Tamara’s

assailant? Why were you trying to contact me?”

Aubrey Ross

“A man name Morton Tulain is dead and Tamara is their prime suspect. The

murder took place on d’Arrest, so I’m not lead investigator. But needless to say, I can’t

be involved in helping her. How well do you know this woman? The timeline they’ve

assembled makes her look guilty as sin.”

“She’s been with me since early this afternoon. What’s the time of death?”
“Spaceport security caught her exiting a shuttle here on Halley Prime at twelve-

thirty. They traced her steps backward from there and have accounted for all but ninety

minutes of her morning. Unfortunately, the murder took place within that window, so

unless she has a damn good alibi, she better get a damn good lawyer.”

“Who is Morton Tulain? Do they have a motive?”
“I haven’t been officially briefed yet, so I don’t have many details.”
Jericho shook his head as tension gripped his stomach. “There is no way she did

this. She’s being set up.”

“Bill Mercer is lead investigator. I don’t know him well, but his reputation is good.

Last I heard, he was headed to the Pleasure Palace, relatively sure he’d find her there.”

Drake sighed. “If Mercer requests backup, I’m the most logical choice. As you

predicted, this is getting ugly fast.”

“I hear you. Thanks for the warning.”
“I’m going way out on a limb here. If you find out anything that points to her guilt

and choose not to turn her in, you could be arrested as an accessory after the fact.”

“Yes, Officer O’Bannon.” Jericho ended the call and sagged back in his chair. What

the fuck was he supposed to do now? He didn’t believe Tamara was capable of murder,

but how could they prove it without revealing her location? He needed more

information. Navigating out of the communications menu, he accessed the data

functions and ran a quick search for Morton Tulain. He had no criminal record. In fact,

other than basic logistical statistics, the search came up empty. Jericho powered down

the computer and headed back to the bathroom.

He pushed open the door and Tamara gasped, quickly covering herself with the

towel she’d been using to dry off. The tub was draining and she had combed her hair

back from her face. “Did you find out anything interesting?” she asked with a cautious

smile.

There was no way to ease her into this, so he just asked, “Do you know a man

named Morton Tulain?”

She shook her head. “Is there some reason why I should?”
He watched her closely. After years in a service industry, he could generally spot a

lie. “He was murdered on d’Arrest shortly before you left the outpost.”

“They don’t think… Do they think I did it?” She clutched the towel to her chest,

eyes wide, face pale. Her shock certainly seemed genuine.

“Get dressed and throw your things back in your suitcase. We can’t stay here.”
To her credit, she didn’t argue. She rushed into the bedroom and did as he asked.

Madam

Jericho went through the rest of the suite, making sure she left nothing behind. He

let his assistant Ranyn know he was leaving for the night then impatiently waited for

Tamara. She emerged a few minutes later in jeans and a short-sleeved sweater, small

suitcase trailing behind.

“Where are we going?”
He took the suitcase from her and led her out into the corridor. “I’m not sure yet.

My shuttle’s on the roof. If all else fails, it has a small cabin.”

“Are the Enforcers searching for me? Wouldn’t it be better to turn myself in and

explain what really happened?”

He glanced at her, amazed by her misplaced faith in authority. “What really

happened? Why don’t you start by explaining it to me?”

Her steps faltered and she grabbed his arm. “Do you think I killed that man?”
The hurt in her eyes made his mouth go dry. Why would she care what he thought?

She was growing way too attached to him, way too fast. No, they were becoming

attached to each other. “I’ve looked into the eyes of murderers enough times to know

you’re not one. This is all part of some twisted fuck’s master plan. But Enforcers tend to

take the path of least resistance, and you’ve been offered up to them on a plate.”

They didn’t speak again until they reached the roof. The night was cool and clear,

but Jericho was too agitated to appreciate the star-dotted sky. He led her to his shuttle

and pressed his hand to the scanner pad, unlocking the main hatch. He motioned her

inside and handed the suitcase back to her then his audiocom went off. Ranyn was the

only one who had access to this frequency and he knew better than interrupting unless

it was an absolute emergency.

“This better be important.”
“It’s your day for bizarre visitors, Mr. James. Elaine VinDerley is here and she

would very much like to speak with you.”

Jericho shook his head. “Elaine VinDerley, as in the former premier’s wife?”
“That’s the one.”
Scrubbing his eyes with his fingertips, Jericho debated what to do. The VinDerleys

were one of the most powerful families in the coalition. She could have him shut down

in a day if he pissed her off. “Did she indicate what this is regarding?”

“She only said it’s a personal matter.” Jericho heard a muffled voice in the

background and then Ranyn added, “I told her you were on your way out and she

offered to meet you on the roof.”

“Have her escorted up. My shuttle is on the northeast corner of the lot.”
“Right away, sir.”
“What’s going on?” Tamara came back down the stairs and stood beside him.
“I haven’t the faintest idea. Elaine VinDerley is on her way up, so you’d better stay

inside the shuttle.”

Aubrey Ross

Chapter Five

Tamara sat in a chair adjacent to the open hatch, hoping she could at least hear

what was going on outside the shuttle. Jericho seemed shocked by Elaine VinDerley’s

visit, so Tamara could only deduce that the former premier’s wife was not a regular

customer.

She heard the sharp snap of heels against the pavement and then a woman spoke,

her voice nicely modulated. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. James. I’ll only keep you a

moment.”

“I always have time for a lovely lady.”
What a suck up! She leaned forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of their visitor. All

she could see was the skimmer parked next to their ship and one of Jericho’s legs.

“There is no simple way to explain this, so I’ll just toss it out there. I’m looking for

Tamara Owens. You wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?”

Tamara’s heart lurched and she pressed her hand over her mouth. Why would such

a powerful woman be looking for her? Were the Enforcers hoping to draw her out or…

She couldn’t even imagine what would lead to this situation.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have no idea who that is.”
Thank God, she’d stayed out of sight. She glanced at the door leading to the aft

cabin. Should she find somewhere to hide?

“I suspect you’re trying to protect her, but Tamara has nothing to fear from me. I’ve

been worried about her ever since my sister died.”

Tamara turned her attention back to the conversation as Jericho asked the question

echoing through her mind.

“What does your sister’s death have to do with Tamara?”
“For obvious reasons, few people are aware, but Petra was my sister. I’m Tamara’s

aunt.”

Momentarily frozen by confusion and doubt, she tried to focus past the ringing in

her ears. Petra had a sister? If this was a joke, it was cruel beyond belief. She crossed to

the hatch, staying to one side so she didn’t give herself way.

“Is Tamara aware of the connection?”
Hell no! She’d believed she was an orphan, with no living relatives, until a few

weeks ago.

“Petra forbade me to contact Tamara. But the situation has changed drastically.

Tamara is in real trouble and I’d like to help.”

“What made you come to me?”

Madam

Now that was a really good question. Even if Elaine’s concern was genuine, how

had she known where to look?

“I have premonitions. Sometimes it’s just a vague unease, other times it’s quite

specific. I knew the moment Petra died, and I’ve felt restless for the past two days.

Tamara is in danger. I’ve learned to listen to these feelings. They’re seldom wrong.”

“That doesn’t explain what led you here.”
“I was meditating, trying to see if I could locate her on my own, when your image

appeared within the visualization. And it’s been with me ever since. The sense of

urgency is growing stronger, which led me to believe the danger is escalating.”

Tamara was halfway down the stairs before she realized the risk she was taking.

This could still be a clever trap. Jericho spotted her first and he looked none too pleased

by her choice. “Did my mother have visions too?”

Elaine’s head snapped around then she turned and faced Tamara. Her deep blue

eyes took in every detail of Tamara’s appearance. “I’ve seen vids of you, but your eyes

are so like hers.” She moved toward Tamara slowly, her stride smooth, almost gliding.

Her blonde hair was swept away from her face and styled in a simple twist. “Are you

all right?”

“No. Someone is systematically unraveling my life, and I’ve done nothing to

warrant their hostility.”

“How did you arrive?” Jericho still looked suspicious of Elaine, but he remained

outwardly civil.

“My driver is waiting in the departure loop. Shall I send him away? Where are you

two headed?”

Jericho caught her gaze and subtly shook his head. “We’re still debating, but we’d

be happy to take you home. It will give you time to talk with your niece.”

“Only if you’re both comfortable with my presence.” She smoothed down the jacket

of her royal-blue pantsuit as her gaze shifted to Jericho. “I’m here to offer assistance, not

to intrude.”

He made a sweeping motion toward the hatch and Elaine headed up the alloy

stairs. As Tamara turned to follow, he caught her upper arm and whispered, “Don’t

volunteer details. She could be a plant.”

She nodded, sharing his concern.
The shuttle was small. Jericho moved to the pilot’s station, leaving the women the

row of seats behind him. They all strapped in and Jericho ignited the engines. Elaine’s

gaze seldom strayed from Tamara’s face, making her feel as if she were on display.

“I was shocked when I found out Petra had left her estate to you,” Elaine began

after a long pause. “I don’t begrudge you the fortune, but she worked so hard to keep

her choices from complicating your life.”

“Petra didn’t leave her estate to me. The probate council made that decision when

the person named in her will was unable to collect.”

Aubrey Ross

“Are you talking about Matthias?”
“Yes. Petra had no intention of involving me in her life, however indirectly.” She

needed to be careful what she said, but Elaine was a window into the past. And Tamara

had too many questions to allow the opportunity to slip away. “Are either of my

grandparents still alive?”

“I’m sorry, dear. They’ve both passed away.”
“Did Petra have any contact with them?”
“No. She was always wild and our parents were intolerant. It wasn’t a pleasant

combination. Petra closed herself off completely for almost a decade, but we were able

to reestablish a relationship later in her life.”

“What about…my father?” She hated the weakness that made her ask, but meeting

a living relative had brought all the old questions back to the surface.

“If Petra knew which of her lovers fathered you, she never told anyone. Our father

insisted she have DNA testing and find out, but she refused. I’m sorry. That secret went

with Petra to her grave.”

Tamara rubbed her temples as pressure began to pound behind her eyes. “This is all

so strange. There are so many lies. I’m not sure how to react to any of this.”

“I heard you resigned from VU. Is that true? You seemed so happy at the

university.”

“How would you know if I were happy or not?” She had no way of verifying

anything Elaine said and this all seemed a bit too convenient. “You act as if you’ve

known me for years.”

“I’ve watched you for years, as did your mother. She told me once that giving you

up was the hardest thing she’d ever done and it was the only thing in her life that she

regretted.”

“Which is exactly what anyone in Tamara’s situation wants to hear.” Jericho

glanced back at them, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Who sent you?”

Elaine gaped at him. She was either the best actress Tamara had ever seen or her

shock was genuine. “No one sent me. In fact, my husband would be furious if he knew I

was here. My contact on d’Arrest told me about the blowup and indicated that Tamara

was on her way to Halley Prime. No one seemed to know what happened to you after

you arrived, so I decided to find out. I was worried about her safety and emotional

state. It’s as simple as that.”

Jericho swiveled his chair around and looked directly at Elaine. “Can this contact of

yours verify where Tamara was between nine and noon today?”

“I’m not sure.” She glanced at Tamara then focused on Jericho. “Why would

Tamara need an alibi? Inheriting a sex club might have stained her reputation, but it’s

not illegal.”

Madam

Tamara wanted to tell Elaine everything and see if she had any fresh ideas, but

Jericho’s caution was wise. Elaine could be a mole, sent by the Enforcers to ferret out

information.

“It’s gone beyond her inheritance,” Jericho explained. “Someone is trying to destroy

her life and they’re doing a damn good job of it. If your contact can verify her

whereabouts, it would be extremely helpful.”

“Are the Enforcers involved in this? Has she been accused of a crime?”
“Yes and yes.”
Elaine released her safety straps and scooted to the edge of her seat. “Stop being so

cagey. With one com I can find out what you’re not telling me, so you might as well

explain the situation.”

Jericho looked at Tamara indecision clear in his gaze. “It’s up to you. I scanned her

for bugs and tracking chips before we took off. The worst she can do is tell the Enforcers

your side of the story.”

“I suppose I’d be suspicious in your place.” Elaine smiled at Tamara. “I would

never do anything to hurt you.”

Tamara hesitated. Taking Jericho into her confidence had been hard enough and

she had gone to him. Elaine’s sudden appearance in her life made her uneasy. “I don’t

know who’s doing this or why they launched their destructive campaign, but outing me

to the administration was just the beginning. He also created compromising images and

trashed my house.”

“A man named Morton Tulain has been murdered and Tamara is the prime

suspect.”

“Murdered?” Elaine shook her head, clearly aghast. “Which idiot could possibly

think you’re capable of murder?”

Tamara appreciated the vote of confidence, but it seemed odd coming from a

woman she’d just met. Even Jericho hadn’t really known her long enough to assess her

nature. People frequently lied and pretended to be things they weren’t. How could

these two know for certain that she wasn’t putting on a show to gain their support?

“Did you know the victim? Why did they immediately presume you had…?”
She couldn’t even speak the accusation, which made Tamara smile.
“We know the victim’s name but that’s about all,” Jericho told her.
Elaine motioned toward her ear. “If you’ll allow me to make a com, I can find out

everything the Enforcers know.”

“We’d welcome the information,” Jericho replied, “but we can’t risk the com being

traced while you’re with us.”

With a sigh, Elaine lowered her hand. “I’m beginning to understand your paranoia.

No wonder my intuition was going crazy.”

They had talked their way back around to her original question, so Tamara tried

again. “Did Petra have visions too?”

Aubrey Ross

“If she did, she never mentioned them to me. But then our conversations tended to

be terse and to the point. I disapproved of her choices and she refused to even consider

a different life path.”

“Sometimes our life paths are determined by the choices others make.” She wasn’t

sure why she felt obliged to defend her absent mother, but Elaine’s presumptions didn’t

seem fair. “My current situation is a good example. Unless I’ve done something horrible

without realizing it, I’m being punished for who I am, not what I’ve done.”

“That’s a fair point.” Elaine eased back in her chair and crossed her legs. “Why did

you ask about visions?”

She glanced at Jericho and he shook his head. Clearly their unexpected visitor had

yet to win him over. “I was just curious.”

“I hate to be rude, Mrs. VinDerley, but we are rather pressed for time,” he said

without turning around.

“Of course. I’m sorry. Is there a restaurant or a bar nearby? You can let me off there

and I’ll com my driver.”

Something deep inside Tamara rebelled. She didn’t want Elaine to leave, yet she

knew Jericho was right. They needed to disappear and that would be impossible with

someone like Elaine VinDerley along for the ride.

Jericho found a respectable-looking restaurant and set down in a shuttle lot across

the street.

“Let me give you my private access code. The frequency is secure, so there should

be no risk in contacting me. I’ll find out what the Enforcers know, but Mr. James is

right. It’s better if I don’t know your exact location.” Jericho entered the code into the

shuttle’s comsystem then opened the hatch for Elaine. “If you think of any other way I

can assist you, don’t hesitate to com.”

They watched Elaine cross the street and enter the restaurant on the main

viewscreen, but Jericho set the shuttle in motion before he said, “Even if she’s a mole,

we didn’t tell her anything the Enforcers don’t already know.”

“Except for the fact that you’re helping me.”
He waved away her concern and executed a steep, banked turn. “I’ve been

outsmarting Enforcers longer than you’ve been alive.”

She didn’t find the comment reassuring. It shined a glaring light on how little she

knew about her protector. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere the Enforcers won’t think to look. Unless my dear brother joins their

team,” he muttered without looking up from the control console.

“What are you talking about?”
“My brother is an Enforcer. I’d hoped he would be a resource for us, but duty called

and he’s off and running.”

“That’s who you called while I was in the bathtub.”

Madam

He nodded. “He isn’t officially involved yet, and he did warn us about the murder

charges, so I guess I can’t be too pissed off.”

They lapsed into silence as Tamara reviewed what Elaine had told her. The

VinDerleys were obscenely rich and powerful. What could she possibly gain by

involving herself in this mess? “Do you believe her?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. You’d be a fool to accept her at face value.

Someone has gone to enormous trouble to discredit and endanger you. Is it possible

that same person sent Elaine to find out if the plan is working?”

“I don’t believe she’s working for the—”
“I didn’t say I believed it either. I asked if it were possible.”
“Anything is possible.”
“Then it’s better to be skeptical until we have time to verify her story.”
“All the records leading to Petra’s family are gone. Trust me, I searched everywhere

for a clue to her past.”

“Matt would know. If he receives your message, I’m hoping he’ll check in.”
“Easier said than done on Temple-Tuttle.”
“I know, but he’s our best bet. And I wouldn’t use Elaine’s access code until we’ve

had time to verify her story.”

* * * * *

Misty Blue stood on the penthouse balcony and raised her face toward the

midmorning sun. Heat sank through her skin, teasing her nerve endings as it soothed

her tense muscles. She needed release, needed Paul, but she refused to be a burden.

Paul was still asleep in their bed, exhausted after hours of conflict and disorder courtesy

of Officer Mercer. They had both insisted Tamara was not hiding out at the Pleasure

Palace, but the stubborn officer proceeded with a room-by-room search, unconcerned

with the upheaval caused by his intrusion.

Paul’s mood had been foul by the time Mercer left, so Blue was left to battle the

storm alone. Though every bit as tired as Paul, she’d been unable to fall sleep. She lay

beside him, trembling with urgency as she pinched her nipples and rubbed her clit.

Toys didn’t help and her own touch was more of a distraction from the craving than a

cure for her malady. Somewhere along the line she’d fallen into a light slumber, but the

restlessness returned full force as soon as she opened her eyes.

I want you to see a mystic healer. Paul’s simple request unleashed a maelstrom of

memories. She closed her eyes as the images assailed her, bracing for the terror and

desolation that always accompanied those dark days. She’d been five years old when

fanatical mystics captured her and her sister. The mystics had been convinced they

harbored latent abilities and they’d been ruthlessly determined to release them.

For the first few weeks, she’d been motivation for her sister, but her sister’s

“unwillingness” to cooperate had forced them to take a more direct approach. They’d

Aubrey Ross

been starved, locked in darkness and beaten. Their pleas for mercy had gone unheeded

and the abuse had accomplished nothing. Neither of them possessed mystic abilities.

Her sister’s abuse had been far worse than hers, and two years after their rescue, suicide

had been her final escape from the painful memories.

Blue wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, forcing the images to the back

of her mind. Had those mystics done more than bruise her body and traumatize her

mind? Had their endless probing and manipulation created the storm?

Long arms wrapped around her, pulling her back into the warmth of a tall body.

She gasped and turned her head. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Paul eased his hand under her arms and cupped one of her breasts. “I like making

you gasp.” His fingers found her nipple and squeezed.

With a soft moan, she rested her head against his shoulder and lowered her arms.

“And I like gasping when it’s not fear causing the sound.”

He insisted that she sleep naked, willing and accessible if he wanted her during the

night. She’d slipped on his shirt before coming out onto the balcony, but she hadn’t

bothered to button it. “Grasp the railing and spread your legs.”

Lust curled through her body and throbbed between her thighs. Was he going to

fuck her right here on the balcony? They were surrounded by apartments and office

buildings, not to mention the Forum’s hotel tower. Anyone could look over and see

what they were doing. Well, the half wall hid them from the waist down, but the

thought of being watched by an unsuspecting audience thrilled her far more than she’d

expected.

She moved her hands to the rail and stepped her feet apart. He took the tails of his

shirt and tied them around her waist, exposing her body from the waist down. “Were

you able to sleep without your spanking?”

“Not well, Sir.”
“I’m sorry, Blue. I’ll make it up to you today.” His palm smacked her bottom,

rocking her forward. “Lock your elbows. Give me some resistance.” She braced for his

second swat and the impact ricocheted through her lower body, hot and demanding,

consuming all other sensations.

She arched her back and raised her chin, absorbing the sun’s warmth with her face

as her Master ignited the fires below.

“Now lose the shirt.”
He wanted her naked for all the world to see, and she was exhilarated by the idea.

Vulnerable and exposed, she was his to command. She untied the shirt and slowly

opened the front, feeling the sunlight on her breasts. Letting the material slip down her

arms, she bared her body.

“You’re exquisite.” He reached around her and twisted her nipples, dragging a soft

cry from her mouth. “So responsive and passionate.” Using one hand to keep her

Madam

nipples hard, he reached into his pocket with the other. “You didn’t like this the last

time I used clamps, but I suspect you’ll like them now. Hands back on the rail.”

She grasped the rail and closed her eyes, waiting for the shocking pinch of the

nipple clamp. His warm fingers supported her breast and then her nipple was

compressed between the cruel jaws of the clamp. She groaned and shivered then stilled,

drawing the sharp sensation deeper with each breath she took. He was right. The pain

felt right this time. Her need was greater, and anything less intense would have been

lost in the storm. He clamped her other nipple then paused, stroking her breasts, her

back and her still-burning ass.

“Turn around.” Lost in a haze of contrasting sensations, she turned then reached

back and returned her hands to the rail. “Are they too tight? I can adjust the tension if

they—”

“They’re perfect.” She managed a shaky smile. “You are perfect, Master.”
He returned her smile and held out his hand. “We’ll continue this in our

playroom.”

Having him claim her in view of countless others had appealed to her, but she

didn’t question his decision. She placed her hand in his and followed him back into the

penthouse suite. Each step accented the mellowing sting of her ass cheeks and the much

stronger pinch at her nipples. She felt restless and desperate, more needful than she’d

ever been before.

Paul triggered the door to their playroom and the recessed lighting created a soft,

hazy glow. “Go stand by my chair.”

His favorite chair was high-backed with padded armrests, the seat wide enough to

accommodate her knees as she straddled his lap. The room also contained a spanking

bench and a whipping post, but they tended to gravitate toward the chair. He often bent

her over the seat and took her from behind, but she preferred the face-to-face intimacy

as she rode him.

He shed his pants then retrieved a bottle of lubricant from one of the drawers. All

he grabbed was the lube, so it wasn’t hard to figure out what he had in mind. Though

they frequently indulged in various forms of anal play, toys and fingers, even tongues,

he seldom actually fucked her ass.

“Come here.” He sat in the chair and spread his legs, displaying his long, thick

cock.

She approached, her steps hesitant as uncertainty threatened her desire.
“Why do I see fear in your eyes? Have I ever harmed you?”
“No Sir.”
“You belong to me. What kind of a Master would I be if I didn’t protect you?”
“I’m sorry, Sir. My nerves are raw and my emotions easily confused. I know you

would never harm me.”

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“Good, because I intend to redeem the promise you made me. You said you would

do anything I asked. Do you intend to honor your promise?”

He could fuck her any way he chose. Why was he making such a big deal out of

this? “Of course.”

He pulled her closer then drew her mouth down to his. The kiss was deep and

lingering. “Now turn around and bend over. Then open yourself for me.”

She turned and bent from the waist, gravity adding to the pressure on her nipples.

Reaching back, she carefully parted her tender ass cheeks and held her breath as she

waited for his reaction. Rather than moving right to his target, he traced her vaginal slit,

lightly petting her folds and circling her clit. She sighed, releasing her pent-up breath in

a relieved rush.

“So damn soft,” he muttered. “I’ll never tire of your pussy, but you need something

harsher right now.” His hand shifted upward then she felt the coolness of lubricant

against her anus. He caressed the sensitive opening, spreading tingles with each pass of

his fingertips. Then he slowly pushed inside.

His fingers pumped in and out of her tight back passage, stretching her a bit more

with each smooth stroke. She had just begun to enjoy the slide when he pulled out and

positioned his cock against her slippery opening. She released her cheeks and braced

her hands on her knees as he drove his cock deep into her ass. The fullness momentarily

eclipsed all other sensations, driving back the storm with raw intensity.

He pressed her against his groin and pulled her up onto his lap. His shaft drove

even deeper as he settled back in the chair. Her inner muscles contracted around him

and he groaned into her ear. She felt utterly impaled, invaded as she’d never been

before. He lifted her legs and draped them over the armrests, opening her thighs wide.

She relaxed against his chest, savoring the brutal penetration of his cock. Her pulse

raced, her clit echoing each frantic thud. He squeezed her breasts, renewing the throb in

her nipples without actually touching the sensitized peaks. Then his hand skimmed

over her abdomen and cupped her mound, his middle finger pressing against her clit.

Her hips jerked, but she was anchored by his cock, unable to do more than accept

what he chose to give her. “We’re ready.”

Paul’s words made no sense until the playroom door opened and a stranger

invaded their private retreat. “Paul? What are—”

He nipped the side of her neck and her protest ended in a startled gasp. “Anything,

Blue. You promised to obey.”

“I’ll let you do anything you want, but only you.”
“This is what I want.” Though harsh and final, his tone was thick with emotions she

didn’t understand. “I want to watch his mouth on your pussy. I want to feel you come

around my cock. Do you agree, or is your word worth nothing?”

Madam

The man stopped just out of reach, waiting for her response. She looked at him

more closely, wondering why Paul had chosen him above all the skilled Masters in their

employ.

“Give him your consent.” Paul arched his hips, increasing the pressure of his

penetration. “He will not touch you as long as he senses hesitation.”

She licked her lips and closed her eyes. “Why do you want this? You’ve always

made it clear that no one touches me but you.”

He turned her head, rotating her torso until he could see her face. “Look at me.” She

opened her eyes, terrified that she’d see impatience or disinterest in his gaze. “I love

you, Blue.” The claim was reinforced by the affection shining in his dark eyes. “That’s

why I’m doing this. You’re being consumed by this storm and I’m not enough to drive

it back anymore. We need help and we both know it.”

“You honestly think he can help?” She was spread before the other man, pussy on

display, her Master’s cock rammed up her ass. So why didn’t she feel embarrassed? She

glanced at the stranger, allowing herself to really look at him for the first time. His only

garment was a pair of white linen pants that did nothing to conceal his arousal. He

wasn’t tall or muscular like Paul, yet his lean body had its own appeal. His dark blond

hair shone like antique coins while his gaze was crystal blue.

“My name is Aren.” There was an exotic accent to his words. Was he from another

star system? “Your Master has explained his desires, but I will not force my attention on

anyone.”

“Let him try, Blue. If it doesn’t help, I will never ask this of you again.”
Paul was right—she was running out of time. They fought harder to push back the

storm, yet each time it resurged more quickly. “Just this once, and only because I gave

you my word.”

Aren required no other encouragement. He looked into her eyes as he approached,

the corners of his mouth curved in a sexy smile. “May I kiss her, Master Z?”

“No,” Paul growled out the word, but his hand moved from her pussy to her hip,

holding her in place as he gave Aren access to her body. “She only kisses me.”

“Fair enough.” Aren knelt between their legs and ran his hands up the insides of

her thighs. “You’re delightfully colorful.” He pushed his fingers through her silky bush,

which had been dyed to match her light blue hair. His thumb stroked over her folds as

he gazed deep into her eyes. “So wet. Does having your Master inside you always excite

you this much or are you looking forward to my mouth?”

“I’m doing this for my Master,” she whispered, but already her clit tingled and her

rising lust was drawing the storm into her pussy.

“Of course you are.” He grinned and parted her with his fingers. “What other

reason could there possibly be?” He leaned in and traced her slit with his tongue,

starting where her body stretched tight around Paul’s cock and ending at her swollen

clit. “You’re cream is delicious. You’re Master is a lucky man.”

Aubrey Ross

Aren drove his tongue right into her cunt and Blue closed her eyes. It felt amazing,

yet she couldn’t keep guilt from tainting the pleasure. If it weren’t for her malady, Paul

wouldn’t have been forced to watch another man… Oh God! Aren rubbed her clit with

his top lip as he fucked her with his tongue.

Pleasure surged through her, making her head spin. She arched into Aren’s kiss,

inadvertently dragging her ass along Paul’s length.

Paul groaned, grasping her hips as he brought her back down. “Not yet, baby. Hold

still and let him work.”

She clutched the chair’s arms, trembling as the sensations warred within her. She

was pulled and twisted as the storm drew energy from her desire.

Open your eyes, Blue. Let me see you.
Forcing her heavy lids to open, she looked down along her writhing body and

focused on the man between her thighs. His mouth still pressed against her pussy, so

how had he… His gaze met hers and she screamed.

Silver, blue and gold swirled within his eyes as his being drove into her mind. Open

for me. Let me help you.

She kicked wildly, but he simply shifted her legs over his shoulders. Paul’s arms

crossed over her chest, trapping her arms against her sides. “It’s okay, Blue. He won’t

hurt you.”

Mystic! A fucking mystic was eating her out and Paul had arranged it!
“I hate you!” She smacked Paul’s chest with the back of her head, needing the pain

as much as she wanted to communicate her displeasure.

Almost there, Blue. Try to relax. Aren took her clit between his lips and sucked in

slow yet persistent pulls.

An orgasm rushed toward her, barreling through the storm. She turned her head to

the side and ground her pussy against Aren’s mouth as the sensations burst and rolled.

He lifted her hips, aligning her to his mouth as he sucked the cream right out of her

rippling core.

Only his lips drew more than cream into his hungry mouth. He pulled the storm

from her body into his, draining the urgency and the pain until she sprawled across

Paul’s chest, weak and moaning. “What did you do?”

Aren licked her gently, soothing her inflamed body as he eased from her mind.

“You’re a feeder. Your body produces so much energy that it must be drained off from

time to time.”

Tears of relief and confusion flowed down her face, but she was too weak to wipe

them away. She had so many questions, yet every muscle in her body had gone lax and

sleep was closing in around her. It had been years since she felt relaxed and at peace.

“Thank you,” she whispered as the tranquil darkness claimed her.

Madam

Chapter Six

Tamara awoke the following morning to the smell of coffee and the disquieting

realization that she wasn’t in her own bed. By the time they arrived at Jericho’s safe

house, she’d been ready for some much needed sleep. He’d led her to one of the three

bedrooms and told her he’d see her in the morning. She’d been too exhausted to be

disappointed at his choice to sleep in a different room, but the feeling ate at her while

she showered.

What had she expected? Jericho was not the happily ever after type. He was a

surprisingly gallant scoundrel who had agreed to help her through this crisis. She had

to keep a realistic perspective or she was going to get hurt.

She pulled on her jeans and a fresh shirt then left the bedroom to find her host.

Jericho sat at the small round table in the kitchen, sipping coffee while he scrolled

through some sort of spreadsheet.

“Good morning.”
He glanced away from the three-dimensional display and smiled. “Actually it’s

afternoon. Apparently, we were both exhausted.” She nodded and he motioned toward

the sustenance station. “Do you mind helping yourself to brunch? I promised one of my

vendors I’d have this proposal back to him today.”

“Of course not. Would you like something?”
“I already ate, but I’d love another cup of coffee.” He handed her his empty mug as

she crossed to the food station.

After refilling his mug, she selected a veggie omelet and herbal tea. She tried to

enjoy her meal, but her gaze kept drifting back to Jericho. He looked especially

handsome this morning with the sunlight gleaming in his dark hair. He’d exchanged

his pullover shirt for a black t-shirt that accented his broad shoulders and sculpted

chest. But where had he gotten the change of clothes?

She looked around the kitchen with new interest. The house was well maintained,

but old. Jericho owned an ultramodern hotel. Why would he bother with something so

provincial?

“There we go.” He deactivated the display and relaxed back in his chair. “Sorry to

be such a horrible host, but that proposal wouldn’t wait.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. If it weren’t for you, I’d be locked in a

detention center right now.” He didn’t argue, which made the knot in the pit of her

stomach tighten. “You said the Enforcers would never think to look for you here. Yet

you had clothes stashed, so I’m guessing the property is yours.”

Aubrey Ross

“The house belongs to James O’Bannon, and there is only one man on Halley Prime

who can connect James O’Bannon with Jericho James.”

“Your brother?”
“Exactly.”
“But you said he’s an Enforcer.”
“He’s still my brother.” He drained his coffee and pushed the mug aside. “Drake

won’t cross the line to help us, but he won’t intentionally endanger me either. I told him

you were innocent. Hopefully, he’ll give us time to prove it.”

“Hopefully?” She picked up her empty plate and set it in the sink. “Does he know

about this house?”

“No. I was the third buyer after our grandfather died. Drake isn’t sentimental

enough to keep track of that sort of thing.”

“After your grandfather died?” She glanced around again as she returned to the

table. “This was your grandfather’s home.”

It hadn’t been a question, but he nodded. “We used to spend our summers here.

Grandpa let us run wild, so we were more than happy to visit.” His voice grew thick

with emotion and the past shadowed his expression. “When I found out the place was

for sale again, I couldn’t resist. It brings back simpler times and happy memories.

Building forts and fishing on the lake. There hasn’t been enough of that sort of thing in

my life recently.”

He’d offered her a glimpse at the real Jericho. She had no right to pry, but she

wanted to know him better, wanted to understand the forces that had shaped his life.

“How old were you when you left home?”

“Nineteen.” He offered no other information and she was hesitant to push. His gaze

focused on her face and he flashed another blinding smile. “I still owe you a story. Do

you want to hear about my family or my time as a gigolo?”

He’d only skimmed the surface of the gigolo era, but she had the basic idea. And

she wasn’t sure she wanted the “sordid details” after all. “Tell me about your family. Is

Drake older or younger?”

“Younger, but not by much. We fought like cats and dogs while we were growing

up.”

“Is your mother still alive?”
“Yes.”
Again with the one-word answers. She’d have to be more careful with what she

asked. “What cause the falling out with your parents?”

The pain reflected in his eyes belied his casual shrug. “They disapproved of my

choices and never missed an opportunity to tell me so. Mom softened her position after

my father died, but he remained firm in his disapproval until the very end.”

“But you were only nineteen when you left. The conflict had to have started long

before you went into the pleasure industry.”

Madam

“True.” He pushed back his chair and picked up his empty mug. “My parents were

covert mystics. They publically denounced anyone with psychic abilities while they

secretly used those same abilities for the good of the coalition.”

She didn’t miss the sarcasm in his last statement. His parents might have believed

they were working for the greater good, but Jericho obviously disagreed. She waited

until he returned to the table with a fresh cup of coffee before she continued. “How did

that equate to you leaving home?”

“When they were unable to keep their double life a secret from me, they chose a

different strategy with my brother. They systematically taught him to hate and mistrust

mystics. I already knew about their abilities, so I was appalled by their hypocrisy.”

It was hard to picture parents intentionally teaching their children to hate, but

prejudice had existed since time began. Worse, when facts were manipulated and

information suppressed, reality became skewed. Without realizing it, she’d participated

in a massive propaganda campaign. She’d taught the next generation a combination of

lies and half-truths thinking they were documented facts.

Not wanting to distract him from his story, she kept her troubled thoughts to

herself. “Did you tell Drake what they were doing?”

“Mom swore Drake was protected by his ignorance, that we would both be put in

danger if others realized they were gifted. I thought it was bullshit, so I started acting

out. I chose the wrong friends and indulged every unsavory urge that popped into my

mind. My rebellion was all pretty harmless until I met Dawn.”

The tightness returned to her stomach, so she wrapped her hands around her warm

mug and tried to relax. She had no claim to Jericho. It was ridiculous that the thought of

him with another woman bothered her so badly. “Who is Dawn?”

“Dawn was a ruthless criminal wrapped in the body of a free-spirited woman. I

stole for her, beat the hell out of her enemies and even seduced others to gain

information. I was so enamored, I would have done anything she asked. But it quickly

became apparent that she was using her looks to manipulate me—and everyone else. I

would have ended the relationship much sooner if it hadn’t driven my parents crazy.

My mother despised Dawn, and my father told me to end the relationship or find

somewhere else to live.”

“So you left? Why would you allow a ruthless criminal to abolish your family ties?”
He started his defense with another unconvincing shrug. “Dawn was an excuse, a

barrier they would never attempt to cross. I was just as disgusted by their choices as

they were by mine, so I just walked away.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know any more about a woman who had been so

influential in his life, but her curious nature wouldn’t let her push the subject aside.

“How long did you stay with her?”

“Not long. I grew up quick once I left home. When Dawn realized she could no

longer command me, our relationship just dissolved.”

“How did all this conflict affect Drake? Did he side with your parents?”

Aubrey Ross

“Drake and I were never close, but we still spoke from time to time. Our chosen

occupations didn’t make things easier, but he fell in love with a mystic. Miranda is

wonderful, and her presence in his life allowed us to work through some of the old

wounds.”

“I’m glad.” She smiled, but averted her gaze. “Families can be a royal pain in the

ass, but not having anyone to fight with is awfully lonely.” He didn’t reply, so she

dismissed the past with a cleansing breath and tried to lighten the mood. “So how did

you go from being Dawn’s rebellious lover to becoming the fantasy king of New

Shardrake?”

“That’s another story.” He grinned. “You only paid for one.”
Heat spiraled through her body as she remembered what her payment had

involved and how eager she was to experience other pleasures. She’d never met anyone

like Jericho, someone so completely comfortable with his sexuality that he made her

want to explore.

He stood and walked around the table, his gaze turning dark and smoky. “Are you

blushing?” His knuckles traced the curve of her cheek and a half-smile bowed his lips.

“I’d forgotten what it looked like.” She turned her face away, feeling foolish and

exposed. With his fingers lightly touching her chin, he brought her face back around.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

“I’m a novelty. You’re attracted to me because I’m different, unique.”
His thumb brushed across her lower lip as his gaze fixed on her mouth. “Why is

that so horrible?”

“It’s not.” Her lip moved against his thumb, creating a backward caress. “I feel the

same way about you. But the attraction will fade as the novelty wears off.”

His warm chuckle sent tingles up her spine. He tilted her head back and leaned

down to kiss her. “Then we should enjoy it while it lasts.” His lips were warm and firm

against hers, his breath smelling faintly of coffee. She parted her lips and touched her

tongue to his. A sharp beeping jerked them apart. “Never fails,” he grumbled as he

returned to his side of the table.

He activated the holo-display and navigated to the communications system. “It’s

Matt.”

She hurried around to his side of the table as he accepted the com. Matt’s image

appeared a few minutes later. His dark gaze shifted from Jericho to Tamara, his concern

obvious. “Are you all right? Your message sounded pretty damn dire.”

“And things have only gone from bad to worse.” Jericho quickly filled Matt in on

recent developments. “How well do you know Elaine VinDerley? Is there any truth to

her claim?”

“Elaine is Petra’s sister, but I can’t vouch for her motivation. The VinDerleys

seldom involve themselves in anything that doesn’t benefit them. I doubt she’d turn

Tamara in, but I’d be careful what I told her.” Matt finger combed his sun-streaked hair

Madam

back from his face with a heavy sigh. “Petra would be devastated if she knew you were

in danger. She worked so hard to protect you from this sort of thing.”

Matt had claimed to be Petra’s friend when he brought her to Jericho the first time,

but his attitude hinted at a deeper relationship. “How well did you know my mother?”

“How secure is this frequency?”
“I’ll fill her in, if you have no objections,” Jericho volunteered.
“I suspect she’s ready for a bit more context right about now.” Matt looked at her

and his gaze narrowed. “I’m not sure what I can do, but I’ll shuttle home if you want

me to.”

“That’s not necessary. In fact the fewer people who know where I am the better.”
“All right. If you change your mind or think of anything I can do, ask Miranda to

contact Serena. Their link doesn’t require technology.”

Jericho ended the connection then looked at her. “Miranda is Drake’s fiancée, so

we’ll only contact her as a last resort. I don’t want to test Drake’s loyalty any more than

I already have.”

She pulled out the chair next to Jericho’s and sat, her mind reeling with speculation.

“Why do I get the impression that Matt and Petra were involved?”

“Matt barely knew Petra, but Matthias was her lover for years.”
“I don’t understand the connection.”
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Matthias was brilliant. He

created machines so unique and amazing most people couldn’t even imagine such

things could exist.”

“Like your simulators and pleasure ’bots?”
“Exactly. But his final creation was a replicant so sophisticated it was

indistinguishable from a real human.”

“What does this have to do with Matt?”
“Matt is the replicant.”
“Seriously?” She hadn’t spent a lot of time with Matt, but she’d had no idea he was

a machine. “He is very convincing, but I still don’t see what this has to do with my

situation.”

Jericho paused for a moment, his expression suddenly somber. “Right before

Matthias died, he transferred his being, his soul into the body he’d created for himself.”

She narrowed her gaze on his face. Was such a thing even possible? Jericho

obviously believed the story while her logical mind struggled with the possibility. “So

Matt has all of Mathias’ memories and feelings.”

“Yes.”
If Mathias engineered the simulators, his talent was undeniable. Still, Matt was so

lifelike, so… “Did he only create one? Can you imagine what people would pay for an

opportunity to cheat death?”

Aubrey Ross

Jericho shook his head. “That’s the main reason he only made one. He had no desire

to play God or to give others that sort of power.”

“That’s why he allowed Petra’s estate to be settled by the probate council. He

couldn’t admit that he’s still alive.”

“He’s not. For all intents and purposes Mathias is dead. He left his old life behind

and has literally started over.”

She took a moment to soak it all in. All of these changes made her life on d’Arrest

seem very simplistic, and very far away. “Well, he confirmed Elaine’s story. I say we

com her and find out what she’s learned. We can always check out any information she

gives us after the fact.”

“I agree. All we have right now is the victim’s name and that’s not much to go on.”

He pushed back his chair and stood. “Let’s com her from the shuttle. I really don’t want

her to know where we are.”

She followed him down the main hall, taking in each room they passed with

renewed interest. Jericho had spent time here as a child. He’d chased Drake up and

down this hallway and slept in one of the bedrooms. “Which bedroom was yours?”

“The one you slept in last night.” He opened the door to a stairwell and turned on

the light. “If you want details, doll, you’re going to have to earn them.” He arched his

brow in challenge and headed down the stairs.

Jericho’s shuttle was almost too big for the bay beneath the house. Most people in

this neighborhood could only afford a two-person skimmer.

She sat in the navigator’s seat as he took his place behind the main console. “I’m

going to activate audio only. It’s easier to encrypt.” He used the access code Elaine had

given him and they waited for her to respond.

After a brief greeting, Elaine said, “This channel is supposed to be secure, but I

don’t like to take chances. No names or specific locations.”

“Understood,” Jericho replied.
“The victim was employed by the emporium that recently came under your friend’s

control.”

Jericho looked at her to make sure she understood the veiled reference. If the

murder victim worked at the Pleasure Palace, it only made her look guiltier. “I got it,”

she assured him.

“Did you learn anything else?”
“He is also featured in the incriminating image you mentioned yesterday.”
Tamara gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. No wonder they thought

she had killed him! If he was one of the men in the photo, it gave her motive.

“Go on,” Jericho urged.
“His younger brother is also involved in the deception, but it is the third man who

is making the allegation.”

Madam

“Understood.”
“The contact I mentioned earlier has yet to respond to my page.”
Jericho tensed. “Do you suspect foul play?”
“I hadn’t until you brought it up.” Elaine paused for a moment then said, “No,

there’s no way the culprit could know about my contact. Com me again in a couple of

hours. Hopefully, I’ll know more by then.”

“Agreed, and thank you.”
After terminating the link, he swiveled his chair toward her. “Morton Tulain

worked at the Pleasure Palace. At least that gives us a place to start.”

She lowered her hand to her lap, her mouth so dry she could barely speak. “They

have motive. I am so screwed.”

He left his seat and pulled her to her feet. “You can’t give up now. We finally have

something to investigate.”

“But I can’t be seen in public. How can I investigate anything?”
His smile was filled with secrets then he pressed a kiss to her temple and said,

“There are a lot of ways to investigate, and many of them don’t require leaving this

house.”

She had no choice but to believe him. The other options were unthinkable.

* * * * *

Stretching like a lazy cat, Misty Blue wiggled into the softness of her bed and slowly

opened her eyes. She felt relaxed and refreshed for the first time in years, yet she didn’t

understand the cause. The mystic healer, Aren, had siphoned off her excess energy.

He’d drained the storm and eased her torment. Yet he was a mystic. The thought left

her horribly conflicted.

She rolled onto her back and ran her hands up her body. Her nipples were sore, but

the clamps were gone. Raising her arms overhead, she slowly opened her eyes.

“Welcome back.”
She turned her head and smiled at Paul. He sat in a chair by the balcony door,

sunlight accenting his handsome features. “What time is it?”

“Four-thirty. Aren told me to let you sleep, but I was starting to worry.”
She sat up, holding the sheet over her breasts. “Is he still here?”
“Should I be jealous?” He stood and stalked toward her, dark eyes narrowed and

bright. “Letting him touch you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

She folded her knees beneath her and let the sheet slip to her waist. “That’s not why

I asked. I am yours and yours alone. I just have so many questions.”

“Ask me. He explained in more detail after you’d gone to sleep.” He pulled the

sheet away from her body, his gaze ravenous. “Part your thighs. I’ve been aching for

hours.”

Aubrey Ross

Her unexpected reaction to Aren’s treatment had left Paul without release. She

moved her legs apart and rested her hands on her thighs. “Will the storm return?”

“It will.” He covered one breast with his hand and curved the other around the

back of her neck.” He used pleasure to access the energy, but you can be taught how to

release it without sexual contact.” The thought seemed to make him aggressive. He took

her mouth in a demanding kiss, parting her lips with his tongue and delving deep into

the warmth of her mouth.

She tilted her head, creating a better angle for their lips. His fingers tangled in her

hair and pulled her head back, momentarily ending the kiss. “Can you be taught to do

what he did?”

“No.” He growled, clearly upset by the fact. His hand swept down her body and

covered her mound. “Only a mystic can access your energy.” He stroked her clit with

obvious purpose as his mouth returned to hers.

Her pussy melted, responding without hesitation or reserve. Her Master needed her

and she was more than happy to oblige. “How often will I need to…” He thrust his

fingers into her pussy, and her question ended in a startled gasp.

“There should be no need I cannot provide for you.” His hand moved between her

thighs, sliding his fingers in and out of her wet core. “I hate that you need others to

survive. You should only need me.”

“They might get my energy, but you have my body and my heart.” That seemed to

calm him. His hand slowed, prolonging each stroke of his fingers. His touch felt

wonderful, but her mind was still troubled, brimming with questions and speculation.

Her removed his fingers and gently squeezed her clit. “You’re distracted.”
“I’m sorry. I just can’t help wondering if…never mind, it can wait.”
He moved his hand to her hip and raised her chin, looking deep into her eyes. “I

want your complete attention once we start, so ask your questions now.”

“The animals who tortured me and Megan were right all along. We do have

abilities.”

“That doesn’t excuse what they did. Nothing does.”
She had no intention of defending them further, but it brought up another point.

“My mother’s fiancé always claimed I had a spirit inside me. Do you think he was

sensing my mystic energy?”

“Again, even if he did, it doesn’t excuse what he did to you. He was a twisted fuck

who deserved what he got. And that’s all I have to say about that.” He pulled her up

and kissed her with enough passion to force the memories back into the past. All the

pain was behind her now. Paul loved her and now that she understood what she was,

she was free to love him in return.

He finally released her mouth and she wiggled away. Turning over, she folded her

legs beneath her then spread her thighs. She raised her ass in an unmistakable offering

and waited for his reaction.

Madam

She heard his throaty groan then felt his hands on the front of her thighs. He

dragged her toward him until her feet dangled off the edge of the bed. Sinking to his

knees, he pressed his mouth against her slit and muttered. “Mine. Only mine.”

His tongue pushed between her folds, stabbing into her cunt with possessive

demand. He licked and sucked, attacking her clit with focused determination. She

wiggled and arched, thrilled by the depth of emotion driving his urgency.

He reached over and yanked the nightstand open, retrieving a bottle of lubricant.

His hands left her for a moment then she felt a cool drizzle sneak into the crack between

her ass cheeks. He obviously intended to finish what they’d begun that morning.

She rested her chin on her folded arms, trusting him to make it good. He parted her

cheeks and positioned his cock then reached around and covered her clit with his

fingers. She held perfectly still, surrendered and ready. His fingers slowly circled her

clit as his cock drove inward. Her body stretched around him, accepting his thickness

after a moment’s resistance. He filled her completely, pushing pleasure right to the

border of pain.

“Relax, love.” He gave her a minute to adjust to the pressure as his fingers gently

caressed. Tingles swirled through her abdomen, gathering in her pussy and contracting

her back passage. His fingers caught her clit and carefully pulled. “Come.”

Her body immediately obeyed and pleasure burst within her. She shook with the

powerful spasms as he pulled his hips back. The slow slide of his cock prolonged the

sensation and she clutched the covers to keep from screaming.

He thrust in fast and drew back slowly, fucking her with tender ferocity. His hands

moved to her hips and his speed increased as he drove her toward another climax. She

braced her legs and pushed back against him, matching his movements thrust for

thrust.

The fluttering spasms of her release had just begun when he buried himself to the

hilt and came with a strangled cry. “Damn it.” He pulled her up, pressing her back

against his damp chest as his hand covered her mound. With a few skillful strokes, he

triggered her final orgasm and supported her while the pleasure shook her. “Our

timing has been off all day.”

She chuckled, reaching back to touch his hip. “I’m not complaining.”
He cupped her breast with one hand and explored her pussy with the other, his

caresses soothing rather than arousing. “This is nice, isn’t it?”

His cock was still buried in her ass, but she was too relaxed to care. “Will you miss

spanking me?”

He carefully pinched one of her tender nipples and she shivered. “Who says I need

to stop? I’m not sure the storm was the only reason you wanted me to spank you.”

She didn’t confirm his suspicion, but her pussy ached. “Will Aren introduce us to

mystics skilled enough to…feed from me?”

Aubrey Ross

“He said there’s another feeder not far from here. He’s going to talk with this

person and see if they’d be willing to help train you.”

“Do we know this person?”
“I suspect we do, but Aren wants their permission before he tells us who it is.”
She nodded then rested her head on his shoulder. “I suppose we should get back to

work.”

He slowly separated their bodies and helped her off the bed. “We still have time for

a quick shower.”

“Then we better shower separately.” She laughed. “For some odd reason, our joint

showers are never quick.”

Madam

Chapter Seven

“Have we learned anything useful?” Tamara rubbed the back of her neck with a

weary sigh. They sat side by side at the kitchen table as afternoon faded to night.

Jericho pushed back from the access terminal, his tense expression echoing her

frustration. “Everything leads back to the Palace. Marton was a Pleasure Master, Kacey

a former employee and you are the current owner. I wouldn’t be surprised if the real

murderer is on the payroll too.”

Every detail they’d uncovered pushed her further into the spotlight and reinforced

the appearance of her guilt. “I looked through the personnel files twice. The man I saw

in my vision isn’t there.”

“I never saw a reason to burrow into the archives, so my hacker only gave me

access to the active files.”

She shook her head with a distant smile. “Can you imagine the fit Petra would have

thrown if she’d found out you were spying on her?”

“It wasn’t spying exactly. My disgruntled employees loved to run across the street

and vice versa.” He sounded anything but apologetic. “It was easier to identify

potential problems than clean up the mess afterward.”

Raising her chin, she challenged the justification. “And that’s the only reason you

hacked into her database and hijacked her security feed? It didn’t make you feel

powerful to know exactly what was going on in the neighboring kingdom?”

He shrugged and she almost laughed. He really needed to work on his

nonchalance. “We weren’t in direct competition. Still, forewarned is forearmed.”

The doorbell sounded, interrupting her response. She glanced toward the front of

the house, tension knotting her stomach. “Who knows we’re here?”

“No one.” He tried to sound dismissive, but lethal intensity narrowed his gaze. “It’s

probably a solicitor. Just ignore it and they’ll leave.”

Their guest rang again, triggering the buzzer repeatedly.
Tamara motioned toward the holo-display pulsing in the air in front of them. “See

who it is. They sound insistent.”

With a slight nod, Jericho accessed the security grid. The man on the front porch

looked directly into the camera and waved. His blond hair was a bit shaggy and

mischief shone in his light blue eyes.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Jericho muttered.
“Who is he?”

Aubrey Ross

“His name is Aren.” He didn’t volunteer any more information. “Stay out of sight

until I find out what he wants.”

“How did he know where to find you?” Jericho sounded more annoyed than

concerned, so she allowed herself to relax.

“He’s harmless. Mostly. Still, I’m not taking any chances. Stay here.” He hurried

across the room, turning off the light as he rushed to answer the door.

Tamara slipped into Jericho’s chair and expanded the view of the front room with a

subtle hand gesture. She wasn’t sure if the security system recorded sound, but at least

she could see what was going on. Jericho yanked the door open, blocking the entrance

with his body.

She could no longer see Aren, but she heard his playful, “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself. What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you to let me in.”
Jericho shook his head and stepped aside. “Mi casa es su casa.”
“Good to know. Not all my friends are so accommodating.” The blond strolled past

Jericho and lazily looked around. “Where’s Petra’s daughter?”

Jericho shot a warning glance toward the camera and shook his head. “I didn’t

know Petra had a daughter.”

Aren laughed and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Fine. I’ll play along. But I’d

rather not repeat this entire story, so I hope she’s listening.” He raised his voice for the

last phrase then grinned at Jericho. “Paul Zettalli commissioned me to heal his domestic

companion. Her symptoms were interesting enough that I agreed to see her.”

Tamara scooted closer to the table, trying not to overreact to the odd interruption.

Aren was some sort of healer and he’d recently come from the Pleasure Palace. Did that

make him friend or foe?

“What does this have to do with Tamara?”
Aren’s brow arched. “I thought you didn’t know Petra’s daughter.”
Jericho motioned toward the camera, his posture still tense and cautions. “Come on

out, doll. He knows you’re here.”

Unsure why she felt so antsy, she deactivated the display and headed for the front

room. Jericho wouldn’t have called to her unless he felt it was safe, so why were her

insides still twisted?

She hesitated in the archway, taking in her first real look at their enigmatic visitor.

The security feed hadn’t done him justice. A tangible mystique hovered around him

and his eyes shimmered like pale blue diamonds. She reluctantly crossed the room,

nervously rubbing her arms.

“This is Aren. He’s a mystic healer and all around pain in the ass.” She stuck out

her hand, but Jericho intercepted the greeting. “Physical contact gives him access to

your mind. Trust me. You don’t want to go there.”

Madam

She pushed her hands in her pockets and inclined her head. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Aren’s gaze narrowed on her face and she felt a faint tingle inside her

head.

Jericho stepped forward with a menacing glower. “Scan her without permission or

touch her in any way and I’ll throw your scrawny ass out onto the street.”

Obviously unimpressed with the threat, Aren wandered closer to Tamara, a lazy

smile bowing his lips. “Do you realize you’re latent?”

“Paul Zettalli wanted you to heal his partner,” Jericho prompted. “What was wrong

with her?”

Aren looked at Jericho but remained close to Tamara. “Blue’s a feeder, but

apparently she’d never had any contact with mystics. She was so overcharged, she was

nearly insane.”

“I’m glad you could help her. What does this have to do with Tamara?”
Dismissing the question with a smooth shrug, Aren turned back to her. “While I

was releasing Blue’s energy, I saw your face. I wasn’t able to decipher the connection,

but you and Blue are definitely linked.”

“I don’t know anyone named Blue.” Tamara looked at Jericho, unsure what to make

of Aren’s claim. She didn’t feel threatened by the strange mystic, yet she had no idea

what he expected her to do with the information.

“Blue needs training and reassurance, and I don’t have time for an apprentice right

now.” He glanced at Jericho as he went on. “I thought another feeder would be her best

bet, but I can see you have your hands full already.”

Jericho lapsed into thoughtful silence. Speculation clouded his gaze for a moment

then he asked, “Did you mention me by name?”

“Of course not,” Aren assured. “You’re one of the few feeders who can take energy

as well as give it, so I thought you’d be perfect for the job.”

After pausing to consider the possibilities, Jericho shook his head. “I can’t leave

Tamara unprotected.”

“So take her with you. It will give you an opportunity to figure out why I sensed a

connection.”

Aren made it sound so simple. He obviously didn’t know about the charges

hanging over her head, and she saw no reason to enlighten him. “I own the Palace. That

makes me Blue’s employer.”

“No, it was more than that. Something personal.”
“You can’t have a personal connection with someone you’ve never met,” Jericho

pointed out.

“Sure you can. Secret sisters or long-lost cousins. Things like that happen all the

time.”

Aubrey Ross

There was no way to prove or disprove his claim at the moment, so Tamara

changed the subject. “You said I’m latent. What exactly does that mean?”

“Picture a balloon. All of your abilities are contained inside. Right now there’s a pin

prick allowing a tiny drizzle to escape, but the vast majority of your power is still

trapped inside the balloon.”

His description was too accurate to dismiss. Being with Jericho had punctured her

balloon, releasing the vision, and she’d felt a trickle of energy wending its way through

her mind ever since. “How do I pop the balloon?”

“You don’t want to pop it.” Aren shook his head. “A burst of energy that powerful

would be destructive. It’s better if you widen the hole and let the energy flow out

gradually.”

“And how do I do that?”
Another slow, sensual smile spread across his mouth. “You let me into your mind

and I’ll—”

“Not a chance.” Jericho’s tone brooked no argument. “I’ll help her explore her

potential or she’ll remain latent. You’re not going near her.”

His possessiveness pleased and annoyed her. She’d never had anyone jump to her

defense before, yet ultimately the decision was hers. Still, he knew Aren. It would be

foolish to disregard Jericho’s hesitancy just to satisfy her pride.

“Whatever.” Aren gazed at Tamara a minute longer then turned toward the door

with an elegant shrug. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your evening tryst.”

“Aren,” Jericho brought him up short. “I’ll either mentor Blue or arrange for

someone else. Either way it’s off your plate.”

“Cool.” He glanced over his shoulder and winked at Tamara. “Don’t let him bully

you. He’s not half the badass he thinks he is.”

Jericho locked the door behind Aren then turned to face her. “We can’t pass up this

opportunity. It gives us a reason to be in the Palace that won’t bring attention to you.”

“I’m a big girl, Jericho. I can take care of myself while you’re gone.”
He shook his head and stepped away from the door. “I’ll find someone to stay with

you while I’m gone, but we have a balloon to drain first.”

She shivered. Her one and only vision had left her shaken and depleted. Maybe she

didn’t want her abilities unleashed. “How do you know Aren, and how did he know

where to find you?”

“Healing is his primary ability, but he’s also clairvoyant. He tends to know what he

needs to know. And I’ve known him for years. He’s part of a network of mystics who

are working behind the scenes to change laws and perceptions. Mystics are not evil. It’s

time for us to stop being treated as if we are.”

Shame washed over her in an unexpected wave. “I’ve been as guilty of

mistreatment as anyone on Halley Prime. I used to roll my eyes at the idea that anyone

could take such things seriously. I had no idea how narrow-minded I was being.”

Madam

“It’s not surprising. D’Arrest is a bastion of elitist arrogance.”
The description made her laugh. “I suppose we deserve that. But why do you

mistrust Aren if he’s a friend?”

“I mistrust everyone.” He smiled. “Haven’t you figured that out about me?”
Despite his playful tone, the question made her sad. Disappointment and betrayal

had made them both slow to trust. Everyone they encountered seemed willing to trust

Jericho. From his semi-estranged brother to the infamous Toymaker, everyone knew

Jericho was dependable and competent. But who did Jericho count on in return?

She pushed the speculation to the back of her mind. The last thing Jericho would

accept was pity. He’d set out to blaze his own path at the ripe old age of nineteen, and

now he controlled an empire that rivaled her mother’s. No, his empire rivaled hers.

Thanks to the probate council, she was a very wealthy woman.

Shaking away the tangent, she focused on the task at hand. “I thought you didn’t

have any actual abilities. You said concentrated energy was your only…talent.”

“I said my talents are limited. I’m sensitive to the ability of others, but beyond scans

and telepathy I’m pretty well useless.” He took her hand and led her to the sofa. She

started to sit beside him, but he shook his head. “Straddle my lap. This will be easier if

we’re face-to-face.”

He’d been a perfect gentleman all day, completely focused on her protection. Still,

his apparent lack of interest frustrated her. Desire still simmered within her, requiring

only the smallest encouragement to take flame. But she’d begun to think their one

heated encounter had been enough for him.

He held out his hand and smiled, awareness igniting in his gaze. “I don’t bite.” She

took a quick breath and crawled onto his lap, her knees on either side of his hips. The

position was inescapably intimate and heat suffused her face. He reached up and

brushed her cheek with his knuckle. “Isn’t this where we left off this morning? I guess I

better kiss you before we’re interrupted again.”

His hand tangled in the back of her hair while his other arm circled her waist. He

pulled her face down to his and pressed her pelvis against his belly, reestablishing

contact in a heated rush. His lips moved over and against hers, firm yet gentle.

She clutched his shoulders, shocked by the fervor in his kiss. How could she have

thought he’d lost interest? This was not the kiss of an indifferent man.

“I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he whispered against her damp lips.
“Why’d you wait so long?”
He nipped her bottom lip before he said, “I knew as soon as I touched you our

workday would end.”

She pulled back slowly and his fingers tightened in her hair, preventing a full

retreat. “Don’t we need to drain the balloon?”

His head dipped and he pressed his lips against the side of her neck. “That sounds

like a euphemism.”

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“You know what I mean.” His teeth scraped her skin and she shivered.
He turned to the side and laid her back across the cushions then settled on his knees

between her legs. The position was provocative even with them both fully dressed. He

moved her arms up, bending her elbows and crossing her hands above her head.

Bracing himself on one hand, he touched her face with the other.

“Close your eyes and don’t resist. I’m going to anchor a link within your mind.”
His hand pressed against the side of her face as she closed her eyes. She tried to

hold still, but her body wanted to wiggle and arch, to grind against him until they were

both desperate.

A tingling presence brushed against her mind, the touch overt compared to Aren’s

stealthy attempt. She relaxed, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her

mouth. Jericho pushed deeper and sensations reverberated through her body. Her

nipples peaked and her core melted. Then a sharp pinch made her gasp.

“Easy, love. Don’t fight it or I’ll have to start over.” Awareness rolled through her

and she could picture a shimmering string linking his mind with hers. Did the connection

take?

She gasped again and opened her eyes. “Yes. I heard you perfectly.”
“Good. Now you try.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Can you see the tether?”
“Yes.”
“Then form a thought and push it across the connection.”
That sounded simple enough, but it took several tries before she successfully

accessed the link. I can’t believe I’m communicating telepathically.

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “Let’s find out what other goodies your mystic

balloon holds.”

His hand returned to the side of her face and his gaze bore into hers. She opened for

him, surrendering to the determined penetration of his mind. Another sharp sting

jarred her senses then energy, like a crackling river, flowed through her entire body.

Images and impressions flickered through her mind. Some were familiar. She

recognized faces and incidents from her past. But more were new, many of the people

strangers to her.

“You’re scanning me. Try to focus. Search for one specific image.”
Barely able to believe that any of this was real, she submerged herself in the energy

steam and let the command form. Show me Drake. Immediately the likeness of a grim-

faced man flashed into her mind. His mouth was pressed into a tense line, but he had

the same emerald eyes as Jericho.

“Did it work? I heard your thought, but I can’t see what you’re seeing.”

Madam

“Yes, at least I think so. The man I’m seeing looks very much like you, though

someone should teach him how to smile.”

“Sounds like Drake. He takes everything way too seriously. Now try it again, but

guard your thoughts. Don’t announce the target of your scan.”

She took a deep breath and shifted her focus from Drake to his fiancée. Drake’s

image faded and in its place formed a live-action memory. Drake and Jericho were on a

shuttle with a black-haired woman between them. She was naked while both men were

mostly dressed. Bending from the waist, she sucked Jericho’s cock while Drake finger-

fucked her ass.

Tamara gasped and shivered, eyes wide with shock—and an odd, nagging

sensation she refused to identify. “Do you and Drake share Miranda?” Hearing her own

question sent an unwelcome stab of dark hunger straight to her pussy. Such things were

wrong, forbidden, yet the image lingered, teasing her imagination. She’d known

Jericho’s code of ethics was different from hers, but the contrast had never been so

glaring.

He tensed then averted his gaze. “It was necessary.”
“Necessary?” Her laugh was harsh and humorless. “How can…that be necessary?”
Planting his hand beside her face, he met her gaze with absolute calm. “We were

about to go into a very dangerous situation and she needed energy.”

“If that’s how mystics refuel, then I’d rather stay latent.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. It’s too late.” His free hand captured her crossed wrists as he

swooped down for a demanding kiss. His tongue smoothly parted her lips and his

warm breath filled her mouth. You’re one of us now, whether you like it or not.

Thrilled by the opportunity to release some of her pent-up energy, she tugged

against his hold. His fingers were firm yet careful, exerting only enough pressure to

prevent her escape. Let me up. She bucked her hips, rubbing her mound against his

abdomen as the urgency inside her grew.

He tore his mouth away from hers and shifted his weight to his knees. “Is that what

you really want?” His hand skated along her ribs, pushing up her shirt as he went. “I

think energy is surging through you and you’re restless as hell.”

“I don’t want to be with a man who fucks his brother’s wife!”
His fingers closed on her nipple pinching hard enough to make her cry out.

“Miranda knew exactly what she was doing. She wasn’t coerced or manipulated in any

way.”

“And that makes it right?” She jerked against his hold, twisting and arching, yet all

the while knowing she was safe within his grasp. “Sex should mean something. There

should be an emotional connection, not just physical stimuli.”

“Are we still talking about Miranda?”
She didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. She wanted him. In fact she

was terrified of how much she wanted him and for the very reasons she was defending.

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She felt an emotional connection with him, but she had no idea if he considered this

anything more than his daily fuck.

“How often do you feed her? Is Drake always there or do you—”
“I fed her once. But be careful, you’re starting to sound jealous.” With a roguish

grin, he raised her T-shirt and skillfully unfastened her bra. “Much better.” He bent to

her breasts, suckling one side while he teased the other with his fingers. “Move your

hands and I’ll tie you to my bed.”

His threat hung in the air between them, a plump temptation ready to be plucked.

Grasping the loops had been exciting, but she couldn’t help wondering what it would

feel like to be literally at his mercy. Unable to stay the rebellious impulse, Tamara lifted

both hands and shoved against his chest.

Jericho narrowed his gaze on her face. Did she want him to bind her? He’d

intended to be gentle and patient, build the intensity gradually. She’d responded well to

domination in the simulator, despite her obvious inexperience.

Well, he never made an idle threat, so she’d left him no choice. He climbed off the

couch and pulled her to her feet. Then he bent and shoved his shoulder into her belly,

lifting her off the floor.

She cried out and beat on his back, but her struggles were obviously feigned. She

kicked until he wrapped his arm around her legs and slapped her upturned ass.

“Behave or you’ll receive punishment before your pleasure.”

“P-punishment?” She stilled, but he could almost hear the frantic pounding of her

heart. His little ingénue had a dark side, perhaps as dark as his.

He set her down at the foot of his bed and pulled his shirt off over his head. She

didn’t run, nor did she follow his lead and undress. Good. He’d rather undress her

anyway. He unfastened the top of his jeans and let them ride low on his hips. Then he

grabbed several silk neckties from the rack in his closet and threw them onto the bed.

Her eyes rounded and she absently rubbed her wrist as she guessed the purpose for

the ties. Her shirt had slipped back down, covering her breasts, but her unfastened bra

created distinct wrinkles beneath the clingy fabric.

“Raise your arms.” She hesitated for half a second then lifted her arms overhead.

He pulled the shirt off and she lowered her arms so he could rid her of the bra. “I

should keep you naked when we’re alone. Clothes are such a bother.”

A smile played about her lips as she whispered, “I will if you will.”
Desire plummeted to his groin, lengthening his cock and tightening his balls. He

fought back a groan, not wanting her to see how easily she threatened his control.

Shifting his focus back to her, he unzipped her jeans and worked them past her

hips. She pushed them down the rest of the way and kicked them aside. Neither of

them had bothered with shoes, but he tugged off his socks before returning his attention

to her.

Madam

He never undressed completely until he was ready for the main event. The subtle

pressure of his jeans helped him maintain control and subtly tipped the power scale in

his favor. Allowing her to keep her panties for the moment, he pulled her into his arms

and reclaimed her mouth.

Her head settled into the crook of his arm and her lips parted sweetly. He’d never

tire of her unique taste or the soft sounds she made as her need escalated. Her breasts

pressed against his chest and he slipped his hand beneath her panties to explore the

silken curve of her ass. He couldn’t wait to see it striped with red or the imprint of his

hand.

The thought rushed more blood to his cock and he moaned against her lips.

“Down.” It was a struggle just to get the word out. He swallowed and tried again. “I

need your mouth.”

She bit her bottom lip as she sank to her knees, feminine power glowing in her eyes.

Her fingers teased him through his jeans as she slowly unzipped his pants. His

breathing grew ragged, but he refused to help, needing her eager participation. She

lowered his pants just far enough to free his cock and give her access to his balls.

Unable to stand the passivity, he grasped the back of her neck and pulled her closer.

With a siren’s smile, she avoided his cock and stroked his hips instead. Her warm

breath wafted across his sensitive tip and still she made him wait. Oh, he’d make her

pay for this once he had her tied to the bed!

Pushing her hand between his thighs, she cradled his balls, her touch light yet sure.

Then her other hand curved around the base of his shaft and she finally swirled her

tongue around the tip. He fought back another groan, unwilling to reveal how deeply

her touch affected him.

Her fist pumped while her lips sucked and he threw back his head, lost to

everything but the pleasure. Wet and warm, her mouth felt almost as good as her

pussy. His balls burned, more than ready to fire, but he had other plans for tonight.

“Enough!” He gasped and pulled back, dragging himself out of her mouth.
“You didn’t need to stop. I wanted to watch you come.” Her wide, earnest gaze was

almost his undoing.

Damn it. He shouldn’t have to fight this hard for control. She was just a woman.

Just an honest, sweet yet spirited woman he’d agreed to protect. His gut clenched at the

thought, but the demand of his cock eclipsed his good intentions. He tried to zip up his

jeans, but the pressure was painful, so he ripped them off instead. She obviously

wanted this, needed it even. He was not taking advantage of her.

“Get on the bed.” His voice sounded harsher than he’d intended, yet she

immediately did as he asked. “Lie on your back, arms overhead.”

“Are you really going to tie me up?”
He picked up the silk ties, having to pull one out from under her hip. “Yes. I really

am.”

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She followed his every move as he secured one end around her wrist then adjusted

the angle of her arm and tied the other end to the bedframe. After binding her other

wrist, he moved down her body and tugged off her panties. She lifted her hips to help

him slide the scrap of material out from under her then pressed her thighs together in a

belated show of modesty.

“Open. Your pussy is mine and I want to touch it.”
She hesitated, so he pushed her knees apart, splaying her thighs and exposing her

soft, pink cleft. With his gaze fixed on her face, he traced her sex. Her lips parted and

her lids drooped as passion smoldered in her gaze. Oh yeah, she was enjoying this

every bit as much as he.

“Did you like having my cock in your mouth?”
“You know I did. I just wish you hadn’t pulled out.”
“Why?” He was playing with fire, challenging his control even more than he was

pushing her boundaries.

Looking directly into his eyes, she said, “I want to know you as well as you know

me.”

And he wanted to cover her, press her into the mattress and drive his entire length

into her wet and willing body. Maybe there was a way they could both have what they

want. He crawled onto the bed and knelt near her head. She looked up at him with

wide, trusting eyes, ready for whatever he had in mind.

“Are you sure about this? You won’t be able to stop me once we start.”
Her hungry gaze focused on his cock as she assured him, “This is what I want.”
Moving with the utmost care, he maneuvered his knees in between her head and

her upraised arms. Then he arched over her body and tucked her legs under his arms,

spreading her wide as he lowered his head between her thighs. Her mouth was open

and ready for his cock as he lowered his hips.

He parted her folds with his tongue and she swirled hers around the head of his

cock. Closing his eyes against the rush of ecstasy, he pushed deeper into her pussy and

her mouth. Over her, in her, and against her, he maximized the contact of his body and

hers. She was passive yet responsive, revealing her excitement with muffled gasps and

subtle tremors as his hips took up a slow, steady rhythm.

His mouth centered over her clit, licking and sucking as his fingers explored her

folds. She was soft and wet, oh so ready for his cock. He pushed two fingers into her

snug passage and felt her inner muscles tighten. Her lips tightened as well, sucking

with renewed determination.

It became a challenge then, each determined to make the other come first. He

pumped steadily into her mouth, savoring the velvety slide of her tongue and the firm

ring her lips created against his shaft. His balls tensed and pleasure rolled up his spine.

He wouldn’t last much longer, but there was no way he’d come without her.

Madam

Leaving his fingers deep, he rotated his wrist and brushed his thumb over her anus.

She wiggled, her cry of protest muffled by his cock. No mercy. He’d given her every

opportunity to demure and she’d insisted this was what she wanted. Coating his thumb

with her cream, he teased the tightly puckered opening. He closed his lips around her

clit and sucked as he carefully pushed his thumb inside.

She cried out sharply, the added stimulation catapulting her over the edge. Her

pussy and ass contracted together, massaging his hand. He released her clit and

prolonged the spasms with steady flicks of his tongue.

As her orgasm receded, he gently withdrew both his fingers and his thumb then

focused more completely on attaining his release. He pushed deeper, thrusting faster

into her willing mouth. Her lips tightened and her tongue slid against his shaft.

Urgency gripped his balls and pleasure rocketed down his cock. He drove to the back of

her mouth and came in long, shuddering spasms.

Her lips drew on his twitching shaft and her tongue swirled, collecting every drop

of his release. He groaned and shook, his mouth still pressed against her damp folds.

She swallowed again and again, hungrily taking everything he had to give her. And

when his climax was complete, she pulled energy into her ravenous body, sending

heated aftershocks ricocheting through his body.

Stunned by her ferocity, it took him a moment to realize the cause. Mystic energy

emanated from her in rhythmic pulses. He quickly disentangled their bodies and turned

around. Her breathing was steady though fast, and he sensed no imminent danger, so

he untied her hands and gathered her into his arms.

He’d learned long ago the futility of trying to bring someone out of a psychic

trance. It was better to let the vision play out and offer a ready source of energy. Each

time she drew energy from him, pleasure curled through his body. He accepted the

stimulation, unashamed of his body’s reaction, despite his recent orgasm.

Brushing her hair back from her face, he waited for the vision to release her. She

looked young and helpless, and so achingly beautiful he was almost afraid to touch her.

It was hard to believe this was the same woman who shivered every time he mentioned

something sexually provocative yet respond without shame each time they touched.

She was an alluring combination of innocence and curiosity. He had never been this

attracted to anyone.

Her long lashes fluttered then she opened her eyes. “How did I… Is that going to

happen every time I come?”

Charmed by the unexpected question, Jericho laughed then leaned down and

kissed her mouth.

Aubrey Ross

Chapter Eight

Tamara’s head buzzed and her skin felt sunburned. Energy zinged through her

body accenting the restlessness her recent orgasm had barely begun to ease.

“What did you see?” Jericho asked, his lips drifting over her features as he laid her

back across the bed.

“Later.” She parted her legs and urged him between them, needing him over her

and in her, unwilling to wait any longer for the fullness of his cock. “Come here.”

He smiled as he obeyed, but he laced his fingers through hers and pinned her hands

to the bed. “You’re not giving me orders, are you?”

“No games, Jericho. I need you now.”
His gaze narrowed as his cock pressed against her opening. He didn’t argue or

make her wait. With one firm stroke, he pushed his entire length into her aching pussy.

She clenched her teeth and drew her legs up against his sides, trembling with the effort

it took not to go wild beneath him.

He released her hands and grasped her hips, holding her steady as he pulled his

hips back. Their gazes locked, his so passion darkened they appeared black. He

understood the hunger raging inside her, somehow he understood.

Reality narrowed to their entwined bodies and the ravenous need arcing between

them. He lunged, hard and fast, filling her again as she gasped his name. She squeezed

him with her knees and her channel, bucking, desperate to take him deeper and keep

him longer before he pulled back again.

A few slow strokes were all it took to shatter his control. He settled on his knees,

jerking her hips up as he drove down. Her heels found purchase on the bed and she met

him thrust for thrust. She took him as he filled her, each as demanding as the other.

They were beyond words or roles or expectations, lost in sensations both

overwhelming and inexplicable. Their bodies understood, so they surrendered, no

longer trying to rationalize.

He lowered himself over her, sliding against her with each firm thrust. His mouth

captured hers, his tongue echoing the steady rhythm of his cock. She wrapped her legs

around his waist and tangled her fingers in his hair, wanting him closer, needing him

deeper. They moved together and breathed as one, energy flowing freely across their

psychic link.

The first telltale pulse of an orgasm formed within her core. She fought against the

sensation, not ready for the pleasure to end.

Jericho had other ideas, however. He caught one of her legs and spread her even

farther, pounding into her with breath-stealing speed. She cried out as each jarring

Madam

penetration pushed her closer to the peak. His jaw clenched and his eyes squeezed shut

as he focused entirely on the goal.

Straining against her and stabbing into her, he battled for release. She watched his

face, captivated by the savage beauty of his struggle. She was with him yet separate

from him, until he opened his eyes. His lids lifted and she dove into the boiling

intensity of his gaze.

His desire rolled across their link, shocking in its concentration. She drew the

energy deeper into her being and pushed her pleasure across the link into his mind. He

groaned, thrusting deep as his body shuddered then shuddered again. His pleasure

cascaded through her, triggering her orgasm as his cock gently bucked inside her.

She came in powerful spasms. Pleasure rippled along her inner walls and expanded

through her abdomen. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she stared unblinking into

his eyes, stunned and a little afraid of the power they generated together.

Long moments passed in silent wonder as they savored the lassitude. Then he

leaned down and kissed her parted lips. The kiss was warm and tender, intimate in a

way it had never been before.

“You okay?” His cocky smile ruined the thoughtful question.
“I’ll be fine as soon as you get off me.”
He wrapped his arms around her and rolled to his back, taking her with him and

managing to remain securely embedded inside her. “Better?”

She folded her legs on either side of his hips and sat up, feeling powerful yet

vulnerable at the same time. “I could sense your emotions toward the end. Is that

supposed to happen?”

His hands stroked up her legs, coming to rest at the tops of her thighs. “There are

no set rules. I felt you scan me earlier, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t intentionally

search my mind just now.”

“I didn’t. I felt energy passing across our link, and then I could feel what you were

feeling.”

“Could you feel my physical sensations or just my emotions?”
“People can actually feel someone else’s physical sensations? Like astral projection

or something?”

“Different people call it different things, but yes, some mystics are able to project a

portion of their being into another person’s body. It allows them to experience

everything the person is experiencing.”

Experiencing sex from the male perspective was oddly intriguing, but that wasn’t

what had happened to her. “No astral projection. Just…empathy?”

“If you didn’t intentionally seek out the sensations, I’d call it passive empathy,” he

clarified.

Her body wasn’t sure if it was supposed to settle down or prepare for another

round of blistering sex. His cock was still buried inside her, yet they were conversing as

Aubrey Ross

casually as if they sat at the kitchen table. She started to crawl off his lap, but he grasped

her hips and shook his head.

“I like you right where you are,” he insisted.
“It’s distracting.”
“Only if you let it be.” She squeezed her inter muscles as hard as she could, and he

groaned. “All right. It’s distracting.”

He lifted her off him and she scrambled off the bed, looking around for something

with which to cover herself. Deciding his shirt would have to do, she slipped into the t-

shirt before turning her attention back to Jericho. He’d used several pillows to prop

himself up against the headboard, but he made no move to cover his nudity. Worse, the

amusement in his gaze told her how silly he found her sudden need for modesty.

“Did you have another vision or did something else happen while you were in the

trance?” He raised one knee and rested his forearm on it, his pose utterly indolent.

Sitting on the far corner of the bed, she tugged the hem of the shirt down in an

attempt to cover her thighs. She had no idea why she became so uninhibited whenever

he touched her, but her inhibitions returned full force as soon as her passions cooled. “I

had another vision, but I’m not sure what it means.”

“Tell me what you saw. We’ll work through it together.”
Mistrust reared its ugly head for a moment before she forced it to retreat. She had

no reason to be suspicious of Jericho. He’d protected and assisted her every step of the

way. Still, her habitual mistrust had been cultivated over decades. She couldn’t expect

to conquer the impulse in a matter of days.

“I saw a woman with silvery-blue hair dressed in… Well, other than thigh-high

boots, she wasn’t wearing much of anything.”

“Go on.”
“I thought she might be Blue, but Aren didn’t say anything about her being a

Pleasure Mistress. This woman’s vocation was obvious. She commanded a small group

of participants using her voice and a bright blue flogger.”

“What did she command the participants to do?”
It was the next obvious question, but she felt odd describing the lurid events. “It

was all very ceremonial. There were three men and two women kneeling before the

blue-haired Mistress. Each crawled forward and kissed the toe of her boot then turned

around and offered their ass for a swat from her flogger.”

“It’s a fairly common show of respect. Did any of the participants say anything or

catch your attention?”

“No. The vision was focused on the Mistress, and my mind was filled with the most

bizarre emotions. But they weren’t my emotions. It was as if I were intercepting

someone else’s emotions, or… I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

He leaned forward and caught her wrist, drawing her closer to him. “Can you

describe the emotions?”

Madam

“I didn’t understand it at the time, but it was like what happened with you.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I was feeling someone else react to the scene.”
He thought about that for a moment and then said, “You experienced the vision

from someone else’s perspective?”

“I hadn’t realized such a thing was possible, but I’m pretty sure that’s what was

happening. I felt anger, but there was no reason for what I was looking at to make me

angry.”

“What else did you feel?”
“I sensed a certain distance, as if the person were across a large room or even

viewing the scene from a remote location.”

“Like a security booth?”
He was thinking of Paul Zettalli, which wasn’t a bad guess. But Tamara wasn’t

quite convinced. “Anything is possible. But I also sensed frustration and pain.

Especially when the Mistress started interacting with the others. The person felt

responsible for what they were seeing, yet they were infuriated by their own guilt. And

above it all there was desire. They were repulsed by what she was doing, but they were

even more turned-on by watching her fuck other people.”

“So, who would be angry, frustrated, guilty and turned-on all at the same time?”
“A priest?” She laughed at his horrified expression. “I was just kidding.”
“No, I think you’re on the right track. It sounds like this person desires Mistress

Blue Whip, yet their desire is inappropriate and they know it.”

“I filtered the personnel files by gender when I looked through them before. I

should look through the files again and see if I can spot Mistress Blue Whip.”

Jericho nodded as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. “If she’s not

in the files, I’ll see what I can find out from Zettalli.”

She had started for the door, but she turned back around. “I’m going with you.”
“No you’re not.”
“Aren is right. It makes more sense for me to go with you. I’ve never been to the

Palace before. Their security scanners won’t have me on file. All we need to do is alter

my appearance and—”

“I’m not taking the chance.”
“It’s not your decision to make.” She planted her fists on her hips and glared at him.

“People see what they expect to see. Tamara Owens is a reserved professor with no

interest in the pleasure industry. You can deck me out like a sex slave or your mistress

or whatever makes the most sense.”

“All it would take is for one person to recognize you. You’d be arrested. You’re not

leaving this house.”

Aubrey Ross

She wasn’t happy with the conclusion, but he had a point. Once she was arrested,

they would be forced to play by the Enforcers’ rules. Jericho would be powerless and so

would she.

Rather than argue, she whirled on the ball of her foot and rushed down the

hallway, emerging in the living room. He strode past her and motioned her toward the

sofa. A central holo-projector allowed them to access the computer from anywhere in

the room. She sat beside him and waited for him to bring up the personnel files.

“You’re sulking,” he said as he navigated through various screens.
“I’m allowed. This is much nicer than a detention center, but I’m still a prisoner.”
Her response made him chuckle, but concern warmed his gaze. “I promised to

protect you and I take my responsibilities very seriously.” He motioned toward the

waiting files. “Female only this time.”

She scrolled through several files, trying to picture each woman with a sleek blue

wig. “Wait a second. Before I search for a needle in this haystack, is there a file for Misty

Blue?” Jericho entered the parameter and a profile shuffled into view. “That’s her. But

Aren said Blue was Paul Zettalli’s partner, not one of the Mistresses.”

“For all intents and purposes, Zettalli is head honcho at the Palace right now. He

would have his pick of all the Mistresses or Masters, whatever floats his boat. It’s not

hard to imagine how a Pleasure Mistress would become his exclusive partner.”

“If the woman in my vision is Blue, then I have to go with you. It’s worth the risk.”

She pushed to her feet, too anxious to remain seated. “Aren said he sensed a connection,

and my abilities confirmed it. What if the person I’m sensing is the killer? I have to talk

to Blue, or better yet, see if I can scan her. She knows who this bastard is! You have to

let me try.”

He stood and caught her upper arms. “If Blue is involved, it makes the situation

even more dangerous. She could be in league with the killer.”

“She’s not.”
“You don’t know that,” he snapped, his fingers tightening on her arms. “Your

powers have been active for all of two days. Do you honestly feel qualified for a stealth

maneuver?”

“She’s brand new too. Aren just found out what she is.” Tamara twisted out of his

grasp but held her ground. “There has to be a way. You have to let me try. I will not live

in fear for the rest of my life!”

Rather than grab her again, he held out his hand. “Where is this stubbornness

coming from? You’ve been so reasonable up until now.” He softened the criticism with

a charming smile.

She sighed and placed her hand in his. “I’ve been terrified up until now. You’re

finally getting to see the real me.”

Madam

He laughed and pulled her into his arms. “Thanks of the warning.” He held her for

a moment, his hands slipping under the shirt to explore her naked back. “How far are

you willing to take this? Are you prepared to sell any role I set for you?”

Concern flickered through her eyes as she looked up and met his gaze. “What do

you mean?”

“Masters love to show off their slaves. An obedient slave is a reflection on a skilled

Master. Are you willing to demonstrate your obedience in front of others?”

“What would I have to do?”
“Get naked.”
“I’m not ashamed of my body. My—Master assures me I have nothing to be

ashamed of.”

“Will you let me touch you, make you come while others watch?”
“As long as you’re the only one touching me.”
“It’s a host’s right to sample a visiting slave.” His gaze was shuttered, his tone

giving nothing away.

“I will not let Paul Zettalli fuck me.”
Fierce possessiveness flashed in his eyes before he was able to conceal it. “It would

never come to that, but could you handle it if he insisted on touching or tasting you?”

She shuddered and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Was this a test? Was

Jericho trying to scare her, make her change her mind? Summoning her mother’s

stubbornness, she squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Anything is better

than remaining in this limbo. And I’m sure as hell not going to prison for the rest of my

life.”

He shook his head and relented with a sigh. “Then I’ll do some checking while you

shower. See if I can formulate a safe compromise that won’t require you to sacrifice too

much of your soul.”

* * * * *

Misty Blue stood out of camera range while Paul spoke with Jericho James. Jericho

was their closest competitor—their only real competitor—and Paul had no reason to

trust him.

“This seems rather sudden,” Paul said. “What motivated this offer?”
“I’ll explain when I arrive, but I’ll say no more over a comlink.” Jericho’s expression

made it obvious he wouldn’t bend.

“I assure you our communication system is secure. There’s no reason—”
“Aren suggested I give you a com.” Jericho’s dark brows arched meaningfully.

“Was he wrong in his assessment?”

Paul’s gaze shot to her for a moment before he gave in. “Use the small landing pad

on the southeast corner of level nine. I’ll have you escorted directly to my office.”

Aubrey Ross

“We’ll arrive within the hour.”
The comlink went blank and Blue shivered. “We? Who is he bringing with him?”
“He didn’t say.” Paul pushed back from his desk and stood. He’d shed his jacket

earlier, but he looked no less intimidating in shirtsleeves and dress pants. “Aren told

me he’d have someone contact us, someone who could help train you.”

She pressed her hand against her throat and shook her head. “Jericho James is the

last person I want training me.”

Paul pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair. “I said never again, and I meant

it. No one touches you but me.”

“But what if he—”
“I’ll send him away and we’ll find someone who knows other techniques. I don’t

care if we have to travel to Temple-Tuttle to find someone with the appropriate skills. I

will never put you through that again.”

She tried to accept his assurance, had no reason to doubt his sincerity. Still,

trepidation vibrated through her, making her tense and uneasy.

Almost the full hour passed before Jericho and his guest were escorted to Paul’s

office. Dressed in an expensive suit of charcoal gray, a solid red tie adding a splash of

color, Jericho looked far too dangerous to be a mere businessman. His wavy dark hair

brushed the collar of his dress shirt and his bright green eyes assessed the room with

quick precision.

“Mr. James.” The men shook hands, leaving the women a moment to eye each

other.

Jericho’s guest wore a tan trench coat with black stockings and stiletto heels. The

coat was firmly belted and Blue wondered if she wore anything beneath. The sleek

black bob was obviously a wig, but the sophisticated style complemented her fair

complexion and beautiful violet eyes. Around her neck was a simple black chocker,

which likely meant she was Jericho’s thrall.

“You’ll have to excuse my reticence earlier,” Paul was saying. “When Aren told me

he would have another mystic contact us, I never dreamed he meant you.”

“For obvious reasons, I don’t broadcast my abilities. No one wants to do business

with someone who can read their mind. That’s not one of my abilities, by the way, but

no one would care. A mystic is a mystic, and none of us can be trusted.”

“I understand your concern.” Paul motioned them toward the small furniture

grouping in the far corner of the room. “I’ve had to reexamine my own attitudes

regarding mystics since I found out about Blue’s condition.”

Jericho chuckled. “You make it sound like an illness.”
“I apologize.” Paul paused as he approached the woman. “Is she allowed to

speak?”

“Of course. Lily is my thrall, but it is not in that capacity that she’s here today.”

Madam

“Then what is her role?” Paul’s gaze swept over Lily with obvious awareness and

Blue tensed. Nothing tempted Paul more than an obedient sub. Yet after only a cursory

look, Paul returned his gaze to Jericho, and Blue smiled.

“Lily is also my apprentice. She has abilities that will be helpful to Blue.”
Paul nodded then turned to Lily. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Lily took his hand without raising her gaze. “Thank you for having us.”
“Would either of you like something to drink?”
“My time is rather limited,” Jericho told him. “I’d rather get right to work.”
“Of course.”
Jericho chose the overstuffed chair and Lily sank to the floor at his feet. She curled

her legs to one side and demurely overlapped the coat, covering most of her shapely

legs. They were the perfect picture of a powerful Dom and his contented sub. Would

she ever find this sort of harmony with Paul? It wasn’t Paul’s fault that their

relationship was challenging. She was the one with all the baggage.

Rather than follow suit, Blue sat beside Paul on the sofa. This wasn’t a sexual

encounter, so Paul wouldn’t expect a show of submission. “Can you teach Paul how to

release my energy, or can I be taught how to release it myself?” She cut right to the

heart of the matter, too anxious for any other approach.

“That depends on a number of factors. It will take someone with mystic abilities to

tap into your energy supply. If you’re a passive feeder, as most feeders are, you won’t

be able to release the energy yourself.”

“Are you one of these passive feeders?” Paul asked.
“My abilities are unusual. As a mystic, I’m unremarkable, but I have skills beyond

those of most feeders.” In a tender show of affection, Jericho slipped his hand under

Lily’s hair and stroked her neck. She turned her head to the side, offering him more of

her creamy skin. Blue was so fascinated by the subtle display that she almost lost track

of his explanation. “Lily can assess Blue’s true potential more accurately than I, but

she’ll need access to Blue’s mind.”

Blue looked at Paul, unsure what she should do. She didn’t want anyone snooping

around inside her head, but there didn’t seem to be any other way.

“It’s up to you,” he responded to her nonverbal question.
“Will she need to…touch me like Aren did?” Heat suffused her skin and pooled

between her thighs as she pictured Lily kneeling between her legs, licking her pussy.

Oh God, would Paul allow such a thing? Would he see a woman touching her

differently than he saw a man? More importantly, did she want to have sex with Lily?

The other woman was certainly beautiful, but she wasn’t really attracted to her. Was

she?

“Distraction is a useful tactic, but the distraction doesn’t always need to be sexual,”

Jericho assured her.

Paul reached over and squeezed her hand. “Disappointed, pet?”

Aubrey Ross

“Of course not,” she snapped, embarrassed that he’d obviously guessed her

thoughts. She had no desire to be touched by any man but Paul, but this was different

somehow. Would it be cheating if Paul enjoyed the show and she only touched another

woman?

A dangerous light erupted in the depths of Paul’s dark eyes as his gaze shifted

between Blue and Lily. “I see no reason to explore other distractions when sexual

pleasure is so much fun.” He looked at Jericho and their gazes locked—the familiar

battle of alpha male with alpha male. “My sub is obedient, is yours?”

“Lily is here as my apprentice, not my sub.”
Paul waved away the objection. “I’m just as possessive as you. No one touches Blue

but me. Even so, I don’t see why this little experiment can’t be entertaining for

everyone. Lily’s a guest in my house, so I’ll let her choose. Would she rather lick or be

licked?”

Blue looked at Lily, hoping to find anticipation smoldering in her thick-lashed eyes.

Instead, Lily stared up at Jericho, clearly panicked. Jericho brushed Lily’s cheek with the

back of his hand, his gaze warm and caressing. “How about if I lick Lily while she scans

Blue? It will be a challenge to see if she can concentrate while I make her come.”

“That won’t distract Blue,” Paul persisted.
Jericho shot to his feet, pulling Lily with him. “This is nonnegotiable.”
They started toward the door, but Blue rushed after them. “Please. Don’t go.” She

grabbed Jericho’s elbow and dug in her heels. “We didn’t mean to insult you.”

“We’re not here for sex games. Is that understood?”
“No one will bring it up again. I promise.” She glanced at Paul to make sure he’d

agree. He consented with a stiff nod and she guided Jericho back across the room.

Jericho motioned her toward the chair he’d just vacated, his expression still

annoyed. “Have a seat.”

Blue sat, pressing her thighs together in an effort not to inadvertently flash him. Her

skirt was ridiculously short, just the way Paul liked it, and she never wore panties

anymore. Another one of Paul’s predilections.

“Put your hands on the armrests and relax,” Lily said from behind her.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Jericho decided with a chuckle. “Paul needs to distract

you while Lily scans.”

Paul knelt in front of her and grinned. “Always happy to do my part.” He hooked

his hands under her knees and pushed up and out, draping her legs over the armrests.

Cool air wafted over her slit as he exposed her pussy to his hungry gaze. She grasped

her knees, keeping her legs from sliding forward as he lowered his face between her

thighs.

Despite her naked pussy, Jericho barely glanced her way. She’d always been vain,

and his indifference would have insulted her if Paul hadn’t been driving her crazy with

Madam

his mouth. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sweet stroke of Paul’s tongue

and the low, growling noises he made whenever he went down on her.

Something brushed against her head. Blue shivered and turned her face away from

the sensation, but the tingling was inside her head not against it.

Relax. I won’t hurt you.
Even recognizing Lily’s voice didn’t help Blue accept the fact that the words had

sounded inside her mind. This was happening. A mystic was scanning her!

Paul thrust two fingers into her core in an obvious effort to pull her back into the

moment. “Yes. Do that. Fuck me hard.” She wiggled to the edge of the chair and leaned

back, giving him a better angle. His fingers slid in and out while his other thumb

worked her clit. It felt good, but she was nowhere near coming. Which was probably a

blessing in disguise.

Someone touched her shoulder, but the hand felt too large to be Lily. She only had

an instant to wonder and then a familiar pleasure coursed through her entire being.

Energy swirled and tumbled as it was drawn toward the hand. Her pussy fluttered and

her clit twitched. Paul took full advantage of the unexpected assistance and caught the

tender nub with his lips. She cried out, her pleasure suddenly rocketing precariously

close to climax.

Not yet, Lily warned. Don’t let her come.
Jericho backed off and Blue’s arousal ebbed.
Bitch! Blue panted. She’d been so damn close.
Concentrate on Paul’s mouth. I haven’t found what I’m looking for.
“What are you looking for?”
The source of your power. The answer came without hesitation, but Blue wasn’t

convinced. Didn’t mystics all have the same power source?

Suddenly images flickered through her mind. Like an ancient silent movie, each

frame was an individual image, unique and ever-changing. Face after face, an endless

parade of people from her past and present. Lily was looking for someone.

“Who are you looking for?” She tried to twist away, but Jericho pulled her back

against the seat and held her there. Paul raised his head and lowered her legs, but made

no other move. “Make her stop.”

With aggressive determination Lily pushed deeper. It burned through Blue like fire

and she screamed, arching away from the chair.

“Enough!” Paul shouted. “Let her go.” He flew around the chair and jerked one of

Jericho’s arms away from Blue’s shoulder.

“Wait. I have it.” Lily gasped then rested both hands on top of the chair. “Who is

this?”

A demon from Blue’s past appeared within her mind and her entire body went

cold. “A ghost,” she whispered. “He’s dead.”

Aubrey Ross

“No, he’s alive and he…” Lily bit off whatever she was going to say and went on

with more caution. “Who is he? What’s his name?”

“Why do you want to know?” Paul asked, tone clipped and cold.
Jericho shook off Paul’s hold as Lily moved to Blue’s side. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Lily gazed down at Blue with silent demand. “Tell me who he is.”
“Tell us why you want to know,” Paul countered.
Jericho ignored him. He walked around the chair and turned Lily to face him, his

forehead creased with concern. “You’re white as a sheet. Did you glean enough from

her memory to figure this out on our own?”

“Probably.” She licked her lips and blew out a shaky breath. “If not, we know

where to find her.”

“Who the fuck are you? What is this really about? Did Blue even get what she

needed from you?” Paul’s gaze narrowed and his fists clenched.

Blue was too stunned to appreciate his concern. She’d felt the energy drain. If

anything, Jericho had taken more than she needed him to take. The burning had quickly

receded, but she couldn’t get the demon’s image out of her mind. “He’s dead. He has to

be dead.”

Paul pulled her up out of the chair and gathered her into his arms. “Did she hurt

you?”

“Not really.” Without another word, Jericho and Lily rushed from the room. Paul

started to call security, but Blue stopped him. “If that bastard is really alive, we have

much bigger problems on our hands.”

Madam

Chapter Nine

Trembling with fatigue and fear, Tamara sat beside Jericho and tried to stop

shaking. The shuttle sped through evening traffic with graceful agility, guided by

Jericho’s confident skill. Her head throbbed and the murderer’s image was indelibly

emblazoned on her memory.

“Blue honestly believes he’s dead,” she said. “She wasn’t just saying that. At some

point, he must have staged his own death, maybe taken on a different identity.”

“It’s a clue. We can factor it into our search criteria.”
She blew out a long, slow breath and rested her head against the seat back. “I kept

waiting for security to run us down. Why did Paul just let us go?”

“Why would he have stopped us? We didn’t do anything wrong. Well, we freaked

out his domestic companion, but that’s not a crime.” He adjusted their heading before

he went on. “You know you’re wanted by the Enforcers, but Zettalli saw what he

expected to see. Just as you said he would. You make an adorable thrall, by the way. I

might not let you take off that collar.”

“I’m a little more concerned about Enforcer wristcuffs right now than I am about

thrall collars.”

“Understandably so.”
She closed her eyes and allowed the images she’d uploaded from Blue to flow back

through her mind. Freeze-frames of another person’s life without any context or

emotional relevance. Were those tears sorrow or joy? Many expressions were

remarkably hard to interpret.

“All the other people appear over and over.” She sighed and opened her eyes. “It’s

almost as if Blue suppressed this man’s image, as if she’s tried to convince herself he

never existed.”

“We both know he did, and he does. But her fear hints at a very evil man.”
“We already knew that.”
With amazing precision, Jericho piloted the over-sized shuttle into the bay under

the safe house. Tamara held her breath until he closed the doors behind them, barely

leaving them enough room to offload.

The overhead lights failed to trigger automatically, so he took her by the hand and

led her to the door. “This place is so old, sensors wear out as fast as I can replace them,”

he muttered as they felt their way along the dark wall. The stairwell leading to the

house above was dark as well, and Jericho tensed. “Now, I know I left this on.” He

leaned down and pulled a small pistol out of an ankle hostler she hadn’t realized he

was wearing. “Stay behind me.”

Aubrey Ross

“What if they’d sent us through a munitions scanner?” She wasn’t sure why she

was whispering.

“Then they would have taken it away, or at least tried to.”
She could hear the grin in his tone. He was nothing if not confident.
Jericho stepped into the main hallway and someone catapulted him against the

opposite wall. She gasped and stepped back, but a second person grabbed her arm. She

screamed and jerked against the hand, but she was dragged out into the corridor.

Jericho was still wrestling with the first man, so the second kept her well back from

the fray.

“You fucking son of a bitch!” Jericho landed an especially vicious punch to his

opponent’s face. “I’ll kill you for this!” He charged, head lowered, arms spread, but the

other man neatly sidestepped the lunge, and Jericho crashed into the wall.

“Give it up, James. That move never works.” With lethal agility and strength, the

stranger threw Jericho over his shoulder and slammed him down on the floor.

The man holding her arm laughed and she jerked against his grip. “That’s rude.”
“No, that is sibling rivalry.” He shrugged. “No matter. My business is with you.”
Her heart collided with her ribs as he led her into the kitchen. Jericho and Drake

were shouting about loyalty verses responsibility, frequently accenting their positions

with their fists. There was nothing she could do to defuse that tempest, so she focused

on the man holding her arm.

The kitchen light came on as they entered and her steps faltered. She was still

dressed like a sex slave. Shit! This should be fun.

The Enforcer’s dark eyes widened when he looked at her. “Professor Owens?”
She reached up and unfastened the black wig, dragging it off her head. “And you

are?” She tried to sound calm without being argumentative. He was in Jericho’s house

without permission after all.

He held out his hand and showed her the badge tattooed on the back of his palm.

“I’m Officer Mercer. Would you like to see my ID card?”

“If you’re with Drake, I presume you’re legit. What is this about?” As if she didn’t

know.

Reaching up, he tapped his audiocom. “For the record, would you state your full

name?”

“Professor Tamara Ellen Owens.”
Jericho rushed into the kitchen, Drake half a step behind. Blood was smeared across

the corner of Jericho’s mouth and Drake’s left eye was rapidly swelling. Brotherly love

at its finest. “Don’t say a word. I can have my lawyer here in fifteen minutes.”

“Only the guilty lawyer up,” Drake snarled. “I thought you said she didn’t do it.”
“I didn’t do it,” Tamara stressed. “And I know who did, or at least I know someone

who can tell you who did.”

Madam

“Visions aren’t admissible in court,” Jericho reminded her. “Keep your mouth

shut.”

“She had a vision of the real killer?” Mercer rolled his eyes, but Drake’s reaction

surprised her.

Drake approached slowly, his expression cautious. “Has Jericho told you about

Miranda? I have an unusual attitude about visions. Tell us what you know and let us do

our job. If you’re innocent, we’ll prove it.”

Mercer looked at him as if he’d started speaking in tongues. “That’s sweet,

O’Bannon. She’s still under arrest.” Mercer motioned toward the nearest wall. “Hands

on the wall and spread ’em.”

Drake blocked Jericho’s lunge as he said, “You better let me do this or my brother

will stop being nice.”

“This is nice?” Mercer jeered.
“Yeah, this is nice.” Under Jericho’s watchful eye, Drake carefully patted Tamara

down.

“She could have a machinegun under that coat. You’re barely touching her.”
“She’ll go through the munitions scanner same as everyone else. There’s no reason

for me to feel her up.”

Mercer snorted. “If that getup is any indication, I don’t think she’d mind.”
Drake wasn’t quite fast enough to catch Jericho this time, so Tamara had to

intercept him herself. “Stop it. The last thing we need is an assault charge.”

“Smart lady,” Drake reinforced.
“Lady?” Mercer snickered.
Drake grabbed him by the throat and squeezed. “Stop antagonizing them or get the

hell out and let me handle the situation. Got it?”

Mercer nodded as his eyes began to water, so Drake released his throat. Mercer

coughed and rubbed his bruised larynx. “I could bring you up on charges for that.”

“You could, but you won’t. You’re being an asshole and you know it.”
Mercer didn’t argue, but he was all business from that point on. “Professor Owens

you are a person of interest in the murder investigation of Morton Tulain. Are you

willing to voluntarily accompany us to Detention Center Three for questioning?”

If she didn’t accompany them voluntarily, they would simply arrest her and take

her in under duress. Protocol required them to ask nicely first. She looked at Jericho, but

his tormented expression was no help, so she shifted her gaze to Drake. “Despite

tonight, Jericho trusts you. Do you trust him?” She pointed at Mercer.

“I do, but you don’t need to. As soon as this became a murder case it fell within my

jurisdiction. All you have to do is trust me.”

“And I do.” She looked back at Jericho and said, “Com my aunt. She needs to know

what’s going on. If she can find her contact on d’Arrest, that might be my best chance.”

Aubrey Ross

Jericho rushed forward and kissed her before Mercer could stop him. “Don’t let

Drake leave your side,” he whispered against her lips. “I don’t trust that prick.”

“Go.” She smiled as tears blurred her vision. “I’ll be fine.”

* * * * *

“You have to calm down.”
Jericho knew Elaine was right, but his body wasn’t cooperating with his mind. Hell,

his mind wasn’t being very cooperative either. He’d been damn lucky to find Mrs.

VinDerley at home and willing to see him. The least he could do was act civilized.

Fuck that! He didn’t feel civilized at the moment. He wanted to stomp that

pompous ass into the dirt and grind his head—

“You’re turning red again.”
He took a deep breath and looked at Elaine’s serene face. “If Mercer touches her, I’ll

kill him.”

“Is there some reason you doubt Drake’s ability to protect Tamara?”
“No, but he’s bound by the law.”
“As are you,” Elaine stressed. “As are we all. We are not barbarians, young man.

We fight within the system. And when the system requires it, we make changes. We do

not abandon the very thing that makes us great.”

“Yes, ma’am.”
“‘Ma’am’ from Jericho James?” She laughed. “You are distraught.”
“I’m going out of my mind!”
With a light, maternal touch, she guided him to a nearby sofa and they sat. He was

only vaguely aware of the elegant salon and the expensive furniture. All he could think

about was helping Tamara. All he could see was the fear in her eyes. She’d put on a

brave front, tried to minimize the crisis for his benefit, but he’d sensed her panic, her

helplessness.

“We have to do something.” His tone was softer yet just as passionate.
“Your explanation was rather rambling. Let me see if I have everything.” Her hand

rested on his shoulder, the contact oddly calming. “Tamara is being questioned by the

Enforcers. Drake is involved, but he is not the lead investigator on the case. Tamara saw

the real killer in a vision, but it’s unlikely the Enforcers will abandon their tangible

evidence against her to pursue a phantom suspect. Does that about sum it up?”

“Blue knows who the real murderer is, but we weren’t able to pressure her without

revealing Tamara’s identity.”

“Is blue her name or her skin tone?”
Jericho smiled. She doubtlessly knew Blue was a name, but her humor was a

welcome reprieve. “Her name is Misty Blue and she works at the Pleasure Palace.”

“Of course she does. Where else would Misty Blue work?”

Madam

He forgave her snobbery. Fanciful monikers were rampant in the pleasure industry.

“If Tamara is smart, and I know she is, she won’t mention Blue until she determines if

the Enforcers will accept her information.”

“I don’t follow.”
“If they won’t take her vision seriously, there’s no reason to tip our hand. We’ll

have to motivate Blue to cooperate once we’ve worked through this mess with the

Enforcers.”

“If Tamara is unable to offer an alternate suspect, then she must have an airtight

alibi.”

He nodded. “That’s why I’m here. Were you able to track down your contact on

d’Arrest?”

“I sent one of my personal security teams to collect him shortly after I spoke with

Tamara in your shuttle. I suspected he was avoiding me, but I wasn’t sure why.”

“Did your team succeed?”
“They did. Petro had left d’Arrest, but my boys easily found him on Wirtanen. Ms.

Beatrice Conroy is head of security and she runs such a tight ship nothing gets past

her.”

Jericho smiled. He’d known Blaze for years and she was one of the few people he

trusted implicitly. “I know Blaze. She does a great job.”

“Blaze. Jericho. Blue. Does anyone in your acquaintance have a real name?” She

softened the question with a smile then abandoned the tangent. “Anyway, Petro was

running scared. He knew Tamara was the prime suspect in Morton Tulain’s death and

he wanted nothing to do with a murder trial.”

“Can he verify Tamara’s location?”
“Yes and no. His log documents her location and some of it can be verified with

security records and such, but there are still gaps. He didn’t feel that the alibi he could

provide was strong enough to warrant his involvement in a well-publicized murder

trial.”

“Fucking coward,” Jericho muttered then saw Elaine’s disapproving look and

added, “Sorry.”

“No, I agree with your assessment. A man of honor wouldn’t have hesitated to

assist a lady in need. I instructed my boys to escort Petro to the detention center. You

likely passed them on your way here.”

Jericho pushed his hand through his hair as he released a heavy sigh. “Then I better

get back there.”

“Nonsense. There is nothing you can do for her there. Take a minute and fill me in

on the rest. It was obvious from the start that there is an attraction between you and

Tamara. Does she return your feelings?”

He wasn’t sure what to tell her. He wasn’t sure how to describe how he felt, much

less how Tamara was feeling. “Stressful situations tend to heighten emotion. I’m afraid

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that once the drama subsides, we’ll both remember that we are from entirely different

worlds.”

Elaine’s laugh was bright and bubbly, and for some reason it grated on Jericho’s

nerves. “Is that an exit strategy or are you preparing yourself for the inevitable end?”

She put dramatic emphasis on the last phrase.

“You’re mocking me,” he grumbled, unwilling to unleash his temper on a matronly

woman.

“And you’re mocking love.” She pushed to her feet and stood over him, hands on

her hips. “It doesn’t happen very often, but when it does, it’s wild and wonderful. Grab

the gift with both hands and refuse to let go.”

“I’m not in love with Tamara.”
“Bullshit.” The expletive was shocking coming from such a prim and proper lady.

“You were half-crazed by the thought of her peril. You’re infuriated by your

helplessness. ‘If Mercer touches her, I’ll kill him.’ Isn’t that what you said? That doesn’t

sound like a passing fancy to me.”

She was right. His feelings for Tamara were far stronger than they had been for any

other woman. His heart didn’t seem to care that they hadn’t known each other that

long. He’d sensed the connection when they first met eight months ago, but he’d

refused to pursue the attraction. He’d known her life would be simpler—and cleaner—

without him in it.

He gazed past Elaine into the night, his heart aching with the reality of his situation.

“She deserves more.”

Elaine touched his cheek, her fingertips warm and smooth. “You underestimate

yourself. You might have chosen a risqué profession, but I have seldom met a more

honorable man.”

* * * * *

“You said you knew someone who could identify this mystery man from your

vision.” Sarcasm dripped off Mercer’s every word.

Tamara rubbed the back of her neck. They had been at this for hours. Drake had

been in the room for the first two, so Mercer had remained mostly civil. Then someone

knocked on the door to the stark cubicle in which they’d imprisoned her and Drake had

left with the intruder. With Drake gone, Mercer had grown bolder and more obnoxious

with each question.

“You don’t believe in visions, so the rest is moot.”
Mercer made a sound part scoff and part snort, a uniquely Mercer sound she had

come to hate. “I think this entire conversation is moot. You have opportunity, motive

and—”

“I want my lawyer. Jericho’s right. There’s no point talking to you.”

Madam

He shoved his chair back and stood so fast his chair toppled. For a moment he just

glared at her then he turned toward the door and stormed from the room, slamming the

door behind him.

Propping her elbows on the table, she covered her face with her hands. They were

watching every move she made and she needed to think. Had Jericho contacted Elaine?

Why had Drake deserted her to that asshole? She’d never been so exasperated or felt so

helpless.

As her emotions settled and her mind focused, she sensed the psychic thread

connecting her with Jericho. They’d only communicated telepathically when they were

right next to each other. Would he be able to hear her now?

She summoned the link, picturing it clearly in her mind. Are you there, Jericho?
Where else would I be?
His immediate response filled her with hope and strength. She wasn’t going

through this alone. Did you reach Elaine?

Been there and back, but she was one step ahead of us, as usual. Her contact is here going

over his surveillance log with Drake and Drake’s supervisor.

That explained the interruption. Drake hadn’t abandoned her. He was working on a

new strategy. Does it prove where I was when Morton was murdered? Will this force them to

let me go?

It’s not open and shut, as we’d hoped. But this punches some serious holes in their theory.

Hope surged across their link and she smiled. They just walked past the lobby. You should

know something momentarily.

She heard footsteps outside the door as Jericho finished his thought. The lock hissed

then deactivated and Drake and Mercer returned. Mercer looked annoyed. Drake was

unreadable, as usual.

“As I believe you’re aware, Elaine VinDerley hired a man to track your activities,”

Drake began. “This is precariously close to stalking and I will speak with her regarding

the practice if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“We’re in direct contact now, so there’s no need for the other.”
He accepted her decision with a nod. “Fortunately for you, Petro, her spy, keeps

detailed notes and makes frequent video entries. The timeline created by this log makes

it nearly impossible for you to have committed the murder.”

“Nearly impossible,” Mercer stressed. “You are still a person of interest.”
“However, we believe we have all we need from you right now. Notify us if you

return to d’Arrest, and you are not allowed to leave coalition space until this case is

resolved.”

“I understand.” Relief zinged through her veins, making it incredibly hard not to

smile. “Will there be anything else?”

“Not at present,” Mercer begrudgingly admitted.
“You’re free to go.”

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100

Unable to contain her joy, Tamara let out a happy cry, reached across the table and

hugged Drake then flew from the room in search of Jericho.

* * * * *

Fenton watched the knife blade slice through the taught fabric between Serra’s pert

breasts. The young woman cried out behind her gag, helplessly tugging against the

cords binding her to the metal chair. Vic had been off work for almost two hours. The

fool must have stopped at a bar or met a secret lover for a quick and dirty fuck before

he returned to his pathetic apartment.

“If loverboy doesn’t get home soon, he’s going to miss all the fun,” he whispered

the threat in her ear, and watched a fresh batch of tears roll down her flushed cheeks.

Almost as if cued by the threat, the front door rattled as someone struggled with the

ancient mechanical lock. He moved behind his captive and positioned the knife point

against her throat as he tugged one side of her bra down.

“There you are,” Fenton drawled, and Vic staggered to a stop just inside the door.

“Close the door, unless you want any passerby to see Serra’s pretty titties.”

Vic slammed the door and tossed his backpack aside as he rushed across the room.
“Think,” Fenton pinched her nipple, making her cry out, “before you act.” Vic

stopped two steps away, hands clenched at his sides, nostrils flaring.

“I did what you said!” His panicked gaze moved to her exposed breast and a crazed

little moan tore from his throat. “You promised.”

“The situation has changed. Kacey’s claim needs to be reinforced.” He used the

knife point to slice through her bra and move the cups aside. “You will go to the

Enforcers and explain about the depraved weekend you spent fucking Tamara Owens.”

Vic’s gaze pleaded with Serra while he silently shook his head.
“You will tell them she was regretful of the encounter before the cum dried on her

thighs. She threatened each of you before you left the hotel and later with vidcoms and

text messages. You were terrified that Serra would find out what you’d done, so you

destroyed the evidence.”

“It’s our word against hers. They won’t believe she killed someone to cover up one

wild weekend.”

“You will make them believe Mort mocked her and challenged her and finally

blackmailed her.” He trailed the knife point across Serra’s chest then down one arm.

“It’s still my word against hers.”
“But you have a dead body to back up your story.”
“Why are you doing this?” He threw up his hands, his voice becoming shrill. “What

did Tamara do to you?”

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101

Fenton straightened and gestured with the knife. “You worry about what I’m going

to do to Serra if you fail me. I can make her suffer in ways you don’t want to

contemplate.”

“I’m not a good liar,” he cried. “They’ll never believe me.”
With the flick of his wrist, he pricked her nipple, drawing forth one vivid red drop

of blood. Then he leaned down and captured the drop with the tip of his tongue,

savoring the sharp, salty taste. “I’ve forgotten more about pain than most people know.

You will find your inner actor and give the performance of your life because Serra will

pay the price if you don’t.”

Vic calmed, and icy determination spread across his features. “That better be the

last drop of blood you draw from her. Understood?”

Fenton inclined his head and smiled as he moved the knife away from the sobbing

woman. “That’s more like it. Now go. Make me proud.”

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102

Chapter Ten

Tamara looked around the penthouse apartment Jericho called home and couldn’t

help but smile. It was even more lavish than the suite he’d assigned for her use.

“It’s…quaint.”

The ridiculous understatement made him laugh. “Do you have a problem with

luxury?”

“No. It just hardly looks lived in. Do you have the hotel staff clean up here?”
“Of course.”
“Do you ever entertain?”
“Up here?” She nodded. “Why would anyone want to come up here when the

rooms downstairs are so much more entertaining?”

He had a point. “And you eat in the restaurants or order room service.” She looked

around. “Is there even a kitchen up here?”

“Kitchenette.” He motioned toward the area that was more a wet bar than a

kitchen.

“Your lifestyle is definitely interesting.”
He closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her hips. “Do you

think you could learn to adjust?”

The question surprised her. The Enforcers might have let her go, but the murderer

was still out there. “I can’t think that far ahead right now.”

His gaze searched hers and his features looked particularly rugged with a couple

days’ whiskers shadowing his jaw. “I don’t do this.” He spoke soft and low, making the

words intimate and important. “I don’t fall for a woman I hardly know.”

She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. Had he just said he’d fallen for

her? “Jericho, don’t.” She placed her fingers against his lips, but her rebellious heart

was already beating like a captive bird. “Everything is crazy right now. What we’re

feeling might be real or it might be an adrenaline high. We have to make it through this

crisis and see how we feel once things settle down.”

“I know. I’ve told myself the same thing a thousand times.” He raised his hand and

curved his fingers against her skull, the gesture intimate yet aggressive. “The harder I

fight my feelings for you, the more I want you.”

Her gaze drifted down to his mouth as she said, “So stop fighting.”
He accepted the invitation with a sexy little growl, his mouth immediately covering

hers. She parted for him, tilting her head to bring their lips into better alignment. No

one kissed like Jericho. Her entire body came alive when his lips moved against hers

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103

and her core ached when his tongue possessed her mouth. Their breaths mingled and

their tongues twined, and she pressed against his warm body.

Without releasing her mouth, Jericho swept her up in his arms and carried her

through the apartment. She didn’t look where they were going, didn’t care where they

ended up as long as they were together.

He set her down beside the bed in a large, masculine bedroom. Unlike the rest of

the apartment, Jericho’s personality was evident here. The rich jewel tones of the

comforter were echoed in the drapes—both were lush without being ostentatious. The

door to the walk-in closet was mirrored and angled perfectly to display what happened

on the bed. It was naughty yet subtle enough that a casual visitor might not understand

its purpose.

Taking advantage of her distraction, Jericho quickly undressed. By the time she had

finished her visual tour, he was naked and ready to assist her with her clothes. She

shrugged off the trench coat and kicked off the stilettos, thrilled to have her toes free of

the punishing footwear.

“Leave the stockings,” he suggested in a passion-thickened tone. “They do amazing

things to your legs.”

She unzipped the flirty little skirt and wiggled out of it while he attacked the laces

on the back of the bustier. Once he peeled the boned garment away from her torso, she

was left wearing a black lace thong and the matching thigh-high stockings.

And the thrall collar, she realized belatedly. She touched the soft velvet, fascinated

by what it signified. If she accepted such a collar for real, her body would belong to

Jericho. She would obey him without question or hesitation, because she would know

that she could trust him to bring her pleasure and happiness.

“You can take it off, if it’s bothering you.” He stood behind her, watching her in the

mirror. “But I admit it makes me hot.”

“Have you ever had a thrall, for real?”
“I enjoy incorporating bondage and the occasional spanking into my routine, but

I’m not part of the lifestyle.”

Unsure why she always felt kinky when she was with Jericho, she moved to the bed

and bent over the side. She rested her forearms on the bed and wiggled her bottom. “I

think it’s time for one of your occasional spankings.”

He was behind her in an instant, squeezing her ass cheeks as he groaned. She could

see him in the mirror, his eyes were closed and his features tensed with something akin

to pain. Without opening his eyes, he began to touch her. He stroked from the small of

her back to her knees, learning her shape and her texture without benefit of sight.

“You are so soft.” His fingers eased into her crack passing over her anus in a light,

teasing caress. She shivered. This is what she wanted, what she’d asked for, yet it was

still new, still a bit intimidating. “And so responsive.” He delved between her thighs,

exploring her slick folds and the snug passage between. Now this was familiar. She

understood the sensations, had no fear of the destination.

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104

He pulled the thong down slowly, allowing her to feel the resistance against her

thighs. When the thin straps banded her knees, he stopped, leaving the garment

stretched, making her look disheveled. He bent and licked his way from the small of her

back to the curve of one ass cheek. She couldn’t see his expression now, but she could

feel his rapid breaths against her skin. He was excited by these discoveries.

His teeth nipped her bottom, first one side then the other. She gasped and tensed,

but he grabbed the front of her thighs and pressed her against his face. His tongue

found her clit as his lips moved against her folds. He sucked and licked with shocking

thoroughness, touching places he’d never touched before. The first time his tongue

brushed over her anus, she thought it had been accidental, but he did it again and

again. And it felt amazing!

She grasped the bedding and bit back a scream. She’d never dreamed she could

find such things pleasurable until she met Jericho. He pushed her boundaries and freed

her from pointless inhibitions, allowing her to feel sensations unavailable to her before.

Her inner muscles tensed and an orgasm hovered just out of reach—and suddenly

he pulled his mouth away. “Jericho!”

“Right here, love.” His hand connected with her bottom, the sting shocking

and…surprising. Heat spread across her skin and her clit twitched in needful protest.

Before she could fully recover from the first swat, he dealt her another. Soon both

cheeks burned and her core smoldered, lust making her restless and hot. Wiggling her

hips sent the heat deeper into her body, but she couldn’t hold still. She arched her back

and clenched her inner muscles, desperate for something she didn’t quite understand.

“Had enough?”
“No.” She tossed back her hair and canted her hips. “I need… I don’t know what I

need.”

Without warning, his cock thrust into her pussy and she came in hard, fast spasms.

“Cream is running down your thighs. I think I can guess.” He held her hips and moved

with a strong, steady rhythm. Each time his groin connected with her sensitive skin, it

revitalized the heat.

She cried out and came again, shocked by her reaction. Why weren’t these orgasms

slowing her down? Her body would crest, but there was no sleepy lull once the spasms

passed.

After her third orgasm, he pulled out, leaving her breathless and stunned.
“We’ve got to slow down or my heart’s going to explode.”
She smiled, understanding the feeling all too well. They pulled down the bedding

and crawled between the sheets. He stretched out on his side, so she did the same.

Guiding her top leg onto his hip, he easily found her entrance. She pulled herself closer

and their bottom legs entwined bringing their pelvises into sweet alignment.

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105

They were face-to-face now, breast to chest and skin on skin. He covered her mouth

with his and started a rolling motion that created a slow burning fire. They kissed and

touched, his body sliding in and out of hers.

He pulled back and stared into her eyes, revealing emotions he’d never shown her

before. Their psychic connection came alive and affection flowed into her mind.

Regardless of her warnings, or her desire to take things slow, he had fallen for her.

There was no denying the love radiating into her soul.

Her heart quickened, ready to respond with equal intensity, but her logical mind

jerked the feelings back. It was too soon. They were drunk on danger. This couldn’t be

real.

His strokes sped and his hips arched, driving his cock deeper inside her. With a

muffled cry, he swept her beneath him and caught the underside of her knees. He lifted

her as he drove his full length into her, each sharp thrust radiating through the rest of

her body.

She watched his face, moved by the ferocity of his passion. He was savage and

possessive, and it thrilled her to the marrow of her bones. Their gazes locked—his

drilling into hers as tangibly as his shaft filled her pussy. They were blended, entwined,

together. As they were meant to be!

Pleasure burst within her, driving rational thought from her mind. He collapsed on

top of her, shuddering violently as release rolled through him as well. She welcomed

his weight and the completeness of being with him as power surged within her. Her

breath caught and she braced for the coming vision, but the images just slipped away.

He had the presence of mind to roll them back to their sides, sparing her his weight

while maintaining their physical connection. She released her pent-up breath, confused

yet relieved that her ability had apparently misfired.

She didn’t speak, refused to ruin the perfection with her niggling worries. This felt

so wonderful, so right. And even if it wasn’t real, if the intensity faded with the drama,

she refused to regret the time she’d spent in his arms.

The rebellious thought followed her into sleep, shaping her dreams as her gift took

hold of her subconscious. She was aware that she was dreaming, which seemed odd.

Dreams were usually surreal and changeable things that evaporated like mist once she

woke.

This was different, darker and far more acute. She felt rough timber beneath her

bare feet and smelled smoke in the warm night air. Long, pale hair streamed over her

face, partially obscuring her vision. She raised her hand, meaning to tuck her hair

behind her ear, but the hand she raised was not hers. The hand was tiny and grubby, a

child’s hand. She looked down and found a girl’s thin body as well. Her being was in

someone else! Astral projection or memory sharing, this was different than any dream

she’d ever had before.

Accepting the situation with a deep breath, she looked around, trying to

understand the purpose for the images. She was in a rustic room, little bigger than a

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106

closet. The only furniture was a rickety stool, a straw-stuffed mattress and a bucket. She

crept closer to the bucket, the smell preparing her for what she would find. If the child

was forced to answer nature’s call in the bucket, she must be locked inside the room.

She rushed to the door and confirmed that it was locked. The wooden shutters over

the window opened, but bars were affixed to the outside of the glassless window

opening. It was all so primitive, so barbaric.

“Melissa, are you awake?”
The muffled voice seemed to be coming from the wall nearest the makeshift bed, so

Tamara knelt on the pallet and searched for a knothole or a space between the boards.

“Hello?”

“Quietly, don’t let them hear us talking or they’ll lock you in the shed again.”
“I’m scared,” Tamara whispered. It seemed to be a logical reaction for a child in this

situation.

“I’m here, Missy. I’ll never leave you, no matter what they do to me.”
Through a sliver of an opening Tamara caught a glimpse of the other girl. She was

not much older than Melissa, with long white-blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes. It

stood to reason that the girls were related. And Tamara was nearly certain whose past

she was reliving. Melissa. Missy. Misty Blue? It was a natural progression.

She searched for a larger opening, trying to determine what all this meant. A

sucking sensation erupted in response to her need for understanding. Melissa’s

thoughts and emotions threaded through hers. She pulled back, allowing the girl to

control her body as Tamara became a silent observer to the scene.

“Where’s Mamma? When is she coming back?” The longing in Melissa’s soft voice

broke Tamara’s heart.

“Mamma’s not here. You have to accept that.” Tamara heard the bitterness in the

older girl’s tone. The mother was somehow involved in the nightmare. “Has anyone

bothered you? If they come to you again, you must tell me. They gave me their word

that you would be spared.”

“I want Mamma.” Melissa sobbed. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she

rocked back and forth, lost in the misery.

Tamara’s heart ached as she imagined all the things inferred by their captivity. Who

was holding these girls captive, and to which forms of depravity were they being

subjected.

“Mamma wants everyone to think she’s a victim too. She wants everyone to feel

sorry for her. We can’t trust her, Missy. She’ll claim we were stolen while she slept.

She’ll tell everyone she’s been sick with worry. But I know what really happened. They

gave her money and she let them take us. We can’t trust her anymore. You have to

believe me.”

Melissa responded with more broken sobs.
“It’s almost time, love. Cover your ears and sing your song.”

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107

She forced Melissa’s echo back into the past and regained control of her small body.

Aligning her eye with the slit, Tamara peered into the other room. She heard the shuffle

of boots and muffled voices and then the door swung open.

A dour-faced woman in a shapeless black garment entered first, followed by an

equally somber man. “Are you ready to cooperate, young lady?” The woman spoke in a

clipped accent Tamara couldn’t quite identify.

“I am cooperating.” The girl sounded hopeless and frustrated while her shoulders

shook with silent sobs. “Please. I’ve done everything you asked.”

“You resist.” He man took a step toward her and the girl cringed, inadvertently

taking herself out of Tamara’s limited field of vision.

“I don’t.”
“Do not argue,” the woman snapped. “We both feel the power inside you. You will

submit or your gift will consume you.” The woman motioned the man forward while

excitement lit her eyes.

One anguished cry was the only sound the girl made then all Tamara could hear

was the inhuman moaning of a helpless creature in excruciating pain. Her stomach

lurched and she pressed her hands over her ears, her body gently rocking.

Before the horror of the event could fully register, the scene collapsed in on itself

and reshaped her reality. Tamara welcomed the reprieve. Anything had to be better

than what those monsters were doing to that girl.

She stumbled as vertigo tangled her feet. She was older now, perhaps fifteen or

sixteen. The bedroom in which she stood was decorated with posters and one of the

morphing murals that had been popular ten years ago. Despite the modern technology

all around her, she held an antique oil lamp between her trembling hands.

One glance in the mirror above the dresser confirmed Tamara’s theory. She was

reliving Misty Blue’s past. Tamara could feel Blue’s fear and the despair of a person

who had run out of options. She stared at the door as dread knotted her belly. Her

hands ached, her grip on the lamp so tight her fingers were staring to go numb.

“Don’t make me do this,” she whispered to the empty room. “Please don’t make me

do this.”

The door handle turned and a desolate sob escaped her dry throat. Inch by

torturous inch, the door eased inward. Tamara’s heart beat so fast she could hear the

frantic thudding in her ears. For a moment, the man stood in shadow, Tamara couldn’t

see his face. Then he stepped into the bedroom and the lamplight illuminated his

features.

Despite the terror she sensed from Blue, Tamara was surprised by the man. He

didn’t look cruel or depraved. With curly dark hair and bright blue eyes, he appeared

young and friendly. Tamara focused on his eyes. She’d seen those eyes before, but the

man in her first vision had been gaunt, his features harsh, his hair streaked with blue.

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108

“You look so pretty by firelight.” His smile was almost hesitant. “We have the

house to ourselves. You can sleep in my arms and no one will know.”

“I’ll know.” Blue’s voice sounded even though Tamara didn’t more her lips. “The

first time was a mistake, but the others were… I won’t let you do this to me again.”

His eyes narrowed and his lips pressed into a grim line. “But I can save you. We

both know the spirit inside you must be exorcized. It’s growing stronger every day. I’ll

help you. We can drive it out together.”

“I don’t have a spirit inside me.”
He stepped toward her and she backed up. “You do. I feel it every time I touch you.

It squeezes my balls each time I come.”

“Then stop doing this.” She gritted out the words between clenched teeth, her jaw

aching with the pressure.

“Are you really going to pretend you don’t want me? No one’s here, Missy. Can’t

you be honest with yourself?”

“I am being honest.” Her voice grew louder, more insistent as she failed to talk him

down. “You’re engaged to my mother. It doesn’t matter what I want!”

His mouth twisted in a smug little smile. “I know what you want, and I know how

you like it. I don’t mind if you need to struggle. I understand your game. You pretend

I’m forcing you because it eases your conscience.”

“No.” She shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. “It’s not a game. I don’t want

this.”

“That’s right. Tell me to go to hell.” He reached for her and she twisted away.

“Come on. Hit me. That will make you feel better.”

“Just leave me alone! Please. I can’t go through this again.”
“Let’s see if you still feel that way with my dick deep inside you.” He lunged and

her anguished cry echoed off the walls. As utter desolation erased her expression, she

smashed the lamp against his chest. Oil saturated his shirt and dripped onto his pants,

flames half a second behind. He screamed—eyes wide with disbelief.

Blue pushed past him and ran down the hall. His screams rang in her head as she

rushed out into the starless night.

* * * * *

“Her real name is Melissa.” Once the vision released, Tamara had curled up on her

side and sobbed for almost an hour. Eventually she’d fallen back asleep. Somehow

Jericho had managed to sleep through the entire ordeal. He’d ordered breakfast for

them and the cart had been waiting when she stumbled out of the bathroom in a hotel-

issue bathrobe. The food looked appealing, but coffee was all she could stomach at the

moment. “I’d guess the other girl was her sister.”

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“And she caught her stepfather on fire?” Jericho munched on a piece of toast as he

entered the information into the search engine. “There can’t be too many teenaged girls

who were arrested for—”

“We don’t know that she was arrested. The fire might have been ruled an accident

or covered up entirely.”

“Still there should be some record of…” He scooted closer to the holo-display and

scrolled through several entries before he said. “I think I’ve found something. Melissa

Sue Cramark was found guilty of murdering her mother’s fiancé thirteen years ago on

Chiron. They were part of an agricultural coop. It says there was an older sister Megan,

who drowned four years before the incident. Oh God, the mother hanged herself while

the trial was still in progress. There’s nothing listed after Melissa was taken to Borrelly

for rehabilitation.”

“Is Melissa still on Borrelly?”
He closed the search engine and accessed Borrelly’s master roster. “Good call. No

Melissa Cramark in residence today. Let me check the archives.”

Tamara picked up her coffee and carried it across the room to the massive windows

overlooking New Shardrake. The view was spectacular from this height, but her mood

was still rather gloomy. A glimpse into Blue’s past had left her feeling hopeless and

forgotten. She didn’t even want to imagine what the rest of her life had been like.

“According to official records, Melissa Cramark was assigned to the Crossroads

mental health complex on Halley Prime as part of a plea bargain. She must have had

some powerful friends. Most convicted murderers are kept on Borrelly, even if they

have mental health issues.”

It was an interesting fact, but she didn’t see how it pertained to the present so she

didn’t pursue the tangent. “How long was she at Crossroads?”

“Most of those clinics are private, so I don’t have access to their records, but let me

see what I can find.”

“It doesn’t matter. We know her current location.”
He joined her at the window, concern clear in his expression. “So she thought she

killed her abuser, even went to prison for his murder. But he’s returned to seek

revenge? Why now after all this time?”

“Maybe it took this long for him to find her? I don’t know. The better question is,

why drag me into the middle of their family feud?”

“You’re right.” He brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead.

“That’s a much better question.”

She snuggled against his chest for a few minutes, savoring the warmth of his strong

arms. Something had shifted last night. Whether she liked it or not, their weekend fling

had matured into a relationship. “We need to go back.”

“Back where?”

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Easing away so she could look into his eyes, she said, “Blue and I are in this

together. I think it’s going to take both of us to bring this guy down.”

“So you tell her what you know and hope she’ll do the same? Doesn’t sound like a

very strong negotiating position to me.”

“I own the Palace. If she doesn’t cooperate, I’ll throw her out on her ass. Does that

sound like a better negotiating position?”

He chuckled. “That’s what Petra would have done.”
“I’m not Petra, but it will work to our advantage if people believe I’m more like

her.”

“So we’re back to the madam idea?”
“More or less. As far as the staff is concerned, you and I are partners, and I am

going to be running the Palace from now on. I think Paul and Blue are going to need to

know more than the Mistresses and Masters, but we have to start somewhere.”

“I agree.”
She reluctantly left his arms, squaring her shoulders as she stepped away. “Then I

better find something suitable to wear. I’m about to begin my life as a madam.”

Madam

111

Chapter Eleven

Sick of Serra’s whimpers, Fenton finally tied her up in the bedroom and turned on

the entertainment stream. The programming was anything but entertaining. What the

fuck was taking Victor so long? The sun had been up for hours. Fenton hadn’t planned

on being here nearly this long. Vic was supposed to make a report, offer himself as a

witness and get his ass back here in time to rescue his lover. Was that so difficult?

The front door rattled and Fenton deactivated the display. It wouldn’t do for Vic to

find him lounging in front of the entertainment stream. He grabbed his knife off the

coffee table and faced the door. “Took you long enough.”

“They questioned me for hours.” Vic paused to lock the door, which seemed ironic

being that the most dangerous man in the city was already inside his apartment. “What

did you expect?” Belatedly realizing something was missing, his brow creased and he

looked around. “Where’s Serra?”

“She’s in the bedroom.” Fenton grinned. “I got bored.”
“If you…” Rather than finish the threat, he ran down the hall and checked on his

lover.

Fenton heard sobs and muffled voices, and rolled his eyes. He should have roughed

her up just to convince Vic he was serious about this shit. Vic closed the door to the

bedroom as he returned to the main room of the apartment.

“I kept my word,” Fenton stressed. “How did the Enforcers react to your story?

Was Tamara still there?”

“Tamara was long gone. She has an alibi.”
“What? What alibi? I made damn sure she was alone when I killed Mort!”
“If I’d been wired, you would have just given the Enforcers your confession.” Vic

shook his head. “You’re so obsessed with this woman you’re getting careless.”

Fenton ground his teeth. The twit was right and it pissed him off. He had to slow

down and be more careful. He could not afford a mistake, any mistake, at this late

stage. He had come too far and risked too much for his day of reckoning! He’d worked

long enough through underlings. It was time for a personal appearance.

“You completed your mission to my satisfaction.” He slipped his knife into the

sheath on his belt and turned toward the door. “I will trouble you no more.”

* * * * *

The main lobby of the Pleasure Palace was three times the size of the simulation

and twice as lavish. Tamara looked around with a combination of fascination and

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disgust. If people only gathered here as they waited to be admitted to the club, why did

the area need to be so gaudy?

They’d chosen dusk for their visit, hoping the nooners would have gone home and

the main evening rush would have yet to arrive. A blonde hostess approached on

impossibly high heels, her large breasts and curvy ass brazenly displayed by her

miniscule costume. “Welcome to the Pleasure Palace. Do you have a reservation?”

“I’m Tamara Owens. I don’t need one.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Owens. The Palace is a reservation-only establishment.” She looked

relieved to have successfully formed all the syllables.

“An establishment’s owner doesn’t require a reservation to tour the property,”

Jericho told her.

“But Petra is…”
“I’m Petra’s daughter.”
“Oh. Why didn’t you say so?” She flounced over to the security station and

explained the situation to the doorman, who promptly ushered them inside.

Tamara smoothed down her knee-length black sheath and squared her shoulders.

With a wide scoop neck and low-cut back, the dress was sexier than anything she

would have worn in front of a class full of horny coeds, but far more conservative than

the sex slave getup they put together yesterday. Jericho fell in step beside her, but

didn’t touch her. They were business partners, not lovers.

Though larger than the simulation, the main floor of the Palace was much the same.

Lots of naked bodies in creative poses, lots of gasps and moans. She focused straight

ahead and walked at a steady clip, high heels ringing on the tile floor.

They were almost across the room when one of the Masters called out to Jericho in a

deep, booming voice.

“Damn it,” Jericho muttered under his breath.
“If we didn’t want people to know, we would have slipped in through the back,”

she reminded him.

They turned to greet the Master, who turned out to be as massive as his voice.

“What are you doing on the dark side? I didn’t think you liked to get your hands dirty

anymore.”

“This is business, not pleasure,” Jericho told him.
“Really?” The Master looked at Tamara with new interest. “Introduce me to your

friend.”

Not waiting for Jericho, Tamara stuck out her hand. “Tamara Owens. I’m Petra’s

daughter.”

“The history professor?” He sounded incredulous.
“Not any longer,” she informed with a sweet smile. “The entrepreneurial spirit is

strong in my family, so VinDerley University and I have parted ways.”

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The Master gaped at her, too stunned to shake her hand. “Are you going to…? Does

Z know about this?”

“That’s where we’re headed now.” Jericho placed his hand on the small of her back

and led her away from the astonished Master. “Every employee in the building will

know within an hour. Good work, my love.”

My love. The endearment made her heart flutter, but she refused to be distracted by

the reaction. They had the rest of their lives to sort through their feelings. Right now

they had a killer to catch.

They hurried down the private hallway at the back of the entertainment area.

Another burly guard blocked their way as they neared the narrow staircase. “This area

is restricted.”

“Tell Paul that Tamara Owens is here to see him.” Jericho spoke before Tamara had

the chance.

It was just as well. The guard was more apt to argue with a female anyway, and

she’d rather conserve her energy for the real fight.

The guard spoke into his earpiece twice then motioned them up the stairs. Jericho

held the door for her, allowing her to step into the office first. Paul stood beside his

desk, looking suspicious and unsure. Blue was nowhere in sight.

“Was that you yesterday?” he asked by way of a greeting.
“Where’s Blue?” she countered walking right up to him as they faced off. “She’s in

danger and so am I. She has to help me figure out why this bastard wants me, so we can

take him down once and for all.”

He took a step back and raised his chin, his body language shouting disapproval.

“She’s somewhere safe, and that’s where she’s staying.”

Slow down, doll. He’ll go down swinging. You have to ease him over to our side.
She glanced at Jericho and smiled, thanking him for the reminder. Paul was

protecting Blue. Paul loved Blue every bit as much as Jericho loved her— Whoa, there

she went again. Using the L word.

Jericho had a point. She needed to appeal to Paul’s protective nature, not

antagonize him. “The only way we can ensure Blue’s safety is to catch this guy, and we

can’t do that without Blue’s help.”

Paul shook his head, dark eyes reflecting his pain. “You have no idea what that

bastard—”

“I do. He’s her step-father and I know what he did to her.”
He stared at her in disbelief for a moment then his gaze narrowed. “You’re like

Aren?”

“Yes. Aren sensed a connection between me and Blue, so I came to see if I could

figure out what it was.”

“Do the Enforcers know you’re here?” He leaned back against the edge of his desk,

starting to relax. “Mercer is convinced you killed someone.”

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“Officer Mercer and I had a long conversation after we left here last night. I have an

alibi, so Mercer is destined to be disappointed.” Paul didn’t reply, so she returned the

conversation to the original question. “Where’s Blue?”

“She doesn’t need to be involved in this. I can tell you anything you want to know.”
“All right.” She decided to test his claim. Pulling out one of the chairs in front of his

desk, she sat. Jericho moved to the other and sat beside her. “My visions can be

confusing. I saw Blue as a child. She was being held captive with another girl. Was the

other girl her sister?”

“Yes. Her name was Megan. Their mother’s name was Estelle.” Following their

lead, Paul slipped in behind his desk and sat. “Blue’s father died when she was three

and it was really hard for her mother after that. Blue’s memories of those years are

jumbled. All she knows for certain is she and Megan were captured by a group of

fanatical mystics. Megan claimed their mother had been part of it, that she’d taken

money from the mystics and arranged for them to be kidnapped. Estelle swore it was a

lie, that it was just the abuse that made Megan lash out like that.”

“What does Blue believe? Does she think her mother was involved?”
He shrugged, the gesture unconvincing. “Depends on the day. They’re both dead

now, so it doesn’t really matter.”

The vision had given Tamara a pretty good idea what the mystics had been trying

to accomplish, but she wanted to hear it from him. “What did the mystics want with the

girls?”

“They were convinced both girls had abilities and they were determined to release

them. Megan allowed the abuse so they’d leave Blue alone, but eventually they tried

most of their techniques on Blue as well.”

“Did Megan have abilities?”
“After what we found out from Aren, Blue’s convinced her sister was a feeder just

like her.”

“Does she know which outpost they were on?”
“Chiron. But the mystics came from somewhere else. Probably Temple-Tuttle.”
She nodded. Everything he said made perfect sense and corresponded well with

what she’d seen in the vision. “Did Megan tell anyone but Blue that she suspected their

mother had been involved in the abduction?”

“Not at first. Megan was so relieved to be rescued that she tried to convince herself

she’d been wrong. But the dreams got worse. So did the nightmares. Then Megan and

Estelle had a horrible fight not long before Megan drowned.”

Another wave of dread made Tamara shiver. “Blue thinks her mother was involved

in her sister’s death?”

“She’s never had more than suspicions, but it was all too convenient.” Convenient

and horrific. Suddenly her own childhood didn’t seem so bleak. “When and how did

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115

the stepfather enter the picture?” Nothing Paul told her was too surprising, but it was

helping fill in the blanks.

“Fenton wasn’t technically Blue’s stepfather, just her mother’s fiancé.”
With another nod, she asked, “How did he meet Estelle?”
“He was a citizen of Halley Prime. He came to Chiron as a sort of missionary one

summer. He and a group of young people were supposed to help out the

underprivileged people of Chiron. Megan had drowned three months before and he

found Estelle tragic and interesting. Estelle was eleven years older than Fenton, but he

swore he didn’t care. He was kind and attentive and offered her a life on Halley Prime,

something she’d never dared imagine before.”

“So she agreed to marry him?” Estelle must have been so lonely, and so

disillusioned after losing both her spouse and one of her daughters. Even if guilt had

been mixed with the sorrow, the loss wouldn’t have been any less real.

“She returned with him at summer’s end. Blue was as excited as her mother to

begin with. She saw Fenton as a hero, a savior, larger than life. But during the following

year she matured into a beautiful young woman, and Fenton noticed. Blue tried to fight

the attraction, but Fenton was an experienced man of twenty-four and she was fifteen.

The first time was consensual, or as consensual as seducing a minor can be. But after

that, she fought him. He played mind games, told her she was only struggling because

she felt guilty for wanting him, which of course was more or less true.”

Everything he said was confirmed by her vision, and it all made her despise Fenton

even more. “Was he into spirituality, demons and such?”

“Big-time.” He shook his head. “Your visions are pretty damn accurate, aren’t they?

It’s almost spooky. Fenton told Blue she had a spirit inside her, claimed he could feel it,

especially when they touched.”

That caught Jericho’s attention. “He’s probably a sensitive and doesn’t know it.”

Until that moment, he’d remained silent, politely listening without slowing the

conversation. “He might even have fed from her without realizing what he was doing.”

“Well, the rest wasn’t accidental.” Paul’s temper flared. “He repeatedly raped a

fifteen-year-old and convinced her it was her fault.”

“And when he wouldn’t stop, she smashed an oil lamp against his chest.” Tamara

shook her head, saddened by the choices forced into Blue’s young life.

“Look, I don’t care if he’s a lecherous mystic or a run-of-the-mill pedophile, this day

is long overdue.”

“No one will argue with that,” Jericho assured him.
Paul leaned forward, searching her face with curiosity in his eyes. “Can you

summon visions about whatever you want, or do random images just come to you?”

“Somewhere in between. I’m not to a point yet where I can summon them, but

they’re far from random.” She sighed, focusing again on Blue. “How did Melissa

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Cramark move from being a patient at Crossroads mental health complex to being

Mistress Misty Blue at the Pleasure Palace?”

“The answer to that is simple.” He folded his hands on his flat belly and rocked

back in his chair. “Petra had a thing for lost souls. She tapped into prison release and

drug rehabilitation programs for menial workers. They’d come in the morning and do

laundry, custodial and simple maintenance projects. Occasionally one of the workers

would catch her eye and she’d sponsor them.”

“What do you mean ‘sponsor them’?”
Paul scoffed and looked at Jericho. “Is she really that naïve?”
“Afraid so.” Jericho reached over and squeezed her hand. “But don’t confuse

naïveté with foolishness. She’s sharp as a tack.”

She pulled her hand out of his and placed it in her lap. “She’s also sitting right

here.”

“When you have the kind of money Petra had—the kind of money you have—

doors just sort of open. Petra liked to take people who were down and out and offer

them a lifestyle unlike anything they could ever imagine. Of course, all it cost them was

their self-respect and any control they ever hoped to have over their body.”

The bitterness in his tone made it obvious he had experienced the phenomenon

firsthand, but she needed to know about Blue. “Petra bribed the people at Crossroads

and they turned over Melissa to her.” She paused for a moment as myriad questions

sprang from the simple statement. “How did Melissa end up at Crossroads? She took a

life. Why wasn’t she kept on Borelley?”

Jericho scooted to the edge of the chair, gaze fixed on Paul’s face. “How were they

able to convict her of murder when her victim isn’t dead?”

“Blue has been trying to figure that out ever since Lily…er…Doctor Owens told her

the bastard is still alive.” Paul fiddled with his cuff, his tone far less certain than it had

been before.

“And what did she decide?” Jericho prompted.
“The trial was postponed for over a month as Fenton lingered near death. The

magistrate wanted to charge Blue with murder, but a victims’ advocate group claimed it

was self-defense and wanted all charges dismissed. Blue always thought the magistrate

won the debate when Fenton died and she was sent to Crossroads. Now she’s not sure

what the hell happened.”

“Fenton could have insisted on a new identity as part of the plea bargain.” Tamara

mused. “Everyone would need to believe he was dead, yet the officials would have

known Blue hadn’t actually killed anyone.”

“Which explains her unusual placement,” Jericho agreed.
“Either way, Melissa’s crime was a provoked crime of passion,” Paul stressed. “It

was highly unlikely she would ever attack anyone else.”

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117

“What happened after Melissa caught Petra’s eye?” Tamara guided the

conversation back toward the present.

“Petra became her legal guardian and Blue was required to wear a collar that

restricted her movements to the Palace grounds for the first six years.”

Tamara tried to look at it from the killer’s perspective. Was he angry that Blue had

not served out her sentence on Borrelly, or was he horrified that his stepdaughter had

been turned into a whore? Just thinking about it made her feel antsy, restless—jagged.

Trepidation sped her pulse and clenched her belly. “Where is she, Paul?

Something’s wrong. Com her right now. Something’s wrong!”

Paul swung his chair around and touched the bottom corner of the security grid. A

private suite came into view and Tamara gasped. Blue was tied to the bed, naked,

spread-eagled and gagged.

“Oh my God,” Paul cried. “He’s here! How did he get past security?”
“What’s on the bed between her legs?” Jericho moved closer to the display.
Paul selected the area with his fingertips and the computer zoomed in. Tamara

covered her mouth with her hand as the bomb filled the display, the counter steadily

descending.

“Eleven minutes?” Paul hissed. “We need to evacuate, but I can’t just leave her—”
“Is that on the main floor?” Jericho demanded.
“Behind the training booths.”
“I’ll take her out the back.” Jericho headed for the door. “You and Tamara get

everyone else out.”

“We’re right behind you,” Tamara assured him as he rushed from the room.

Turning to Paul, she asked, “Is there some sort of emergency alert?”

“Yes of course.” He turned on the alarm.
“Now send my voice to every room in the building.”
He entered a command in the panel then said, “Go.”
“This is not a drill. Evacuate immediately. Get everyone out. Repeat. This is not a

drill.”

“We have to go too,” Paul urged.
Tamara kicked off her shoes and ran for the door. The metal stairs bit into her bare

feet, but it was the least of her worries. Paul pulled her toward the back exit, but she

twisted out of his grasp and darted for the main floor. Eleven minutes was no time at all

to unfasten all those buckles and untie all those knots!

The room was less chaotic than she’d feared, so she started a room-by-room search.

She closed doors and pulled privacy curtains as she went, indicating where she had

been.

“We’re clear, boss. Get the hell out of here.”

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She looked back and found the huge Master she’d met earlier waving her on. Not

about to argue with his logic, she checked the last room and headed out through the

back. Jericho waited for her at the edge of the shuttle lot. Paul and Blue were several

paces ahead of him. Most of the customers had gone out the front, so the stillness was

rather eerie.

Jericho wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hurried her farther away.
“Was the bomb not—”
The ground shook and an ear-piercing boom responded to her half-formed

question. Jericho threw her down and covered her with his body as another explosion

echoed the first, and then another and another.

When the blasts finally stopped, she wiggled out from under Jericho and watched

in morbid wonder as fire consumed Petra’s legacy. “We got everyone out, didn’t we?”

“Yes,” Jericho assured her. “Everyone got out. Everyone’s safe.”
But what about Fenton? There was no way he would walk away from his

masterpiece. He had to be here watching, lurking in the shadows. She turned and

wrapped her arms around Jericho, pressing her body against his as she scanned the

surrounding trees with her gaze. Nothing. She saw nothing.

He’s here, Jericho. He has to still be here. Can you sense him?
We’re not sure he’s a mystic. I’m only able to sense those with mystic energy.
Sirens sounded in the distance as firefighters responded to the blaze. Tamara

glanced at the conflagration and shook her head. The Pleasure Palace was lost. All they

could do now was make sure the flames didn’t spread to the surrounding buildings.

With stubborn determination, she focused on the events at the heart of the crisis.

Why would a twenty-four-year-old citizen of Halley Prime saddle himself with an

emotionally damaged, much-older widow? Especially when that widow had a teenage

daughter who was equally damaged?

He has to be a mystic, she concluded. He was feeding on Blue all along.
That’s why the energy build-up only happened after she was incarcerated?
Exactly. Tamara eased away from his chest without leaving his arms. He’s here. We

have to find him.

They slowly rotated, almost as if they were dancing. Flames leapt in her peripheral

vision, the roar of the fire oddly calming. She searched her memory for the rhythm of

Fenton’s energy, remembering her first vision. She’d been inside Fenton’s head. She felt

what he felt and saw what he saw. Could she go there again?

Concentrating on the rhythm, she tuned out everything else. She was one with the

rhythm. Nothing else existed but— Suddenly she stood in the trees at the crest of a

small hill. She maintained the connection only long enough to confirm Fenton’s

identity. Then she pinched off the link and gasped.

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“He’s there.” She motioned with her chin. “On the rise beyond the shuttle lot.” She

looked at the wide-open lot and shook her head. “He’ll be long gone before we sprint

halfway across that lot.”

Jericho leaned down and kissed her mouth. “Not if we rattle his cage first. This is a

game to him. He will not allow himself to be outplayed.” He touched the audiocom

nestled in his ear and said, “You out there, bro?” Drake must have smarted off because

Jericho laughed. “Yeah, right back at you, asshole. Morton’s murderer, as well as the

man responsible for this fireworks display, is hiding in the trees beyond the shuttle lot.

No, don’t move in! We’re going to get you a confession. Just monitor the area and cover

us from the air.”

“Are you sure about this?” Tamara could just barely make out Fenton’s shape

crouched among the bushes.

“What are you planning?” Paul asked. “I’m in.”
“So am I.” Blue stood beside him, dressed in a coat and nothing else. Despite the

eye makeup smeared across her cheeks, determination burned in her gaze. She needed

to be part of this, needed to regain control once and for all.

“If you’re up to this, it would be perfect.” Jericho motioned them closer as he

explained. “Tamara and Blue will go at him head-on. Call him a coward, demand

explanations, be as disrespectful as possible.”

“What if he has a gun?” Tamara couldn’t help the question. Infuriating a

psychopath didn’t seem like the wisest strategy.

Jericho just shook his head. “Why’d he leave Blue tied to the bed? Guns are

definitely not his style. Get him talking. He wants to talk. All of this is a grand

statement. He wants the world to understand his frustration, to sympathize with the

wrong he’s suffered.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Paul still looked skeptical.
“If he makes an aggressive move, Drake will blast him from the sky.”
“Then let’s go.” Blue hooked her arm through Tamara’s and they headed off across

the mostly empty lot. She waited until Paul and Jericho were concealed by one of the

perimeter vehicles before she called out, “I see you, Fenton! Guess you didn’t tie me

tight enough after all!”

He ducked behind a bush then slowly emerged, eyes wide with disbelief.
“That’s right, you fucking coward!” Tamara yelled. “You did me a favor. The Palace

was due for a total remodel anyway.”

“I understand why you hate me,” Blue volleyed. “But what did Tamara ever do to

you?”

He stepped out of the shadows and into the dusky twilight, features tense and

conflicted. “An eye for an eye.”

“That makes no sense.” Blue shook her head. They were only a few feet away now.

They no longer needed to yell.

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“Her mother destroyed my life!” His tone grew thick with bitterness and grief. “She

took my daughter, the only woman I ever loved, and corrupted her spirit, twisted her

into a willing whore.”

“So you turned Petra’s daughter into a whore,” Tamara mused. Or at least created

the appearance that she was promiscuous. It all made a sick sort of sense. “But why did

you kill Mort? Blue is obviously still alive.”

“Mort was an abomination who deserved exactly what he got. The things he did to

women were beyond disgusting.” Madness overtook Fenton’s expression, confirming

Tamara’s suspicions that this was not a rational man.

“And the bomb?” Blue challenged. “You left me there to die.”
Fenton turned on her, pleading with his eyes. “I was trying to save you, baby. The

explosion would have destroyed your body, but fire cleanses sin. Only fire can purify a

soul so corrupted by evil. It’s not your fault. I know that. They did this to you, but you

must be purified.”

Acting on impulse, Tamara lightly scanned Fenton’s mind. Before she could

ascertain the intensity of his mystic power, he spun toward her and sneered.

“Demon!” He crossed himself and backed away. “I know your tricks. I feel your

phantom fingers caressing my brain and squeezing my balls. I will not let you enthrall

me!”

Jericho stepped out of the trees, a pistol in his hand. Paul was a step behind him.
“On your knees,” Jericho ordered Fenton.
Fenton looked at Jericho as if he didn’t quite understand what he was then he

raised his hands as if he meant to comply. Tamara remained on guard, suspecting it

wouldn’t be that easy. At the last minute, Fenton spun to the side and sprinted for the

trees. Paul dove for him but missed. Jericho fired a warning shot that made Fenton veer

sharply to the right.

She lunged for him then, catching him around the hips as he passed at an angle.

Her bare knees hit the pavement and she cried out, but she grasped her wrists and

refused to let go. Fenton twisted and shoved against her shoulders. He even got in one

good punch before Jericho reached them. And then all hell broke loose.

Sirens sounded, lights flashed and a small army of Enforcers seemed to appear out

of thin air. Someone helped her to her feet and she saw the three cruisers from which

the officers had really emerged. Still, it was more fun to imagine them springing up out

of the pavement.

“Are you all right, ma’am?”
“I’m fine.” And except for a couple of skinned knees, she was unharmed.
Blue clung to Paul as Fenton was loaded onto one of the cruisers. Mercer told her

that they would need a statement, but he assured her it could wait until she was feeling

better. The show of civility made Tamara smile. Had Drake managed to beat some

manners into Mercer or was he just putting on a show?

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“How much of that were you able to record?” Jericho asked Drake as the crowd

began to thin.

“Every word.” He grinned. “It was a beautiful thing. Case closed without firing a

shot. We can’t ask for more than that.” Drake gave Tamara a quick hug. “You can go

undercover for me any day. You’re a natural.”

Mercer and Drake climbed aboard the last cruiser, leaving the civilians alone in the

empty lot. “How the hell did you do that?” Paul asked as they watched a cruiser fly

away. “Are you an Enforcer or something?”

“Something.” Jericho laughed. “I’ve always had a sort of love-hate relationship with

the Enforcers.”

“What’s going to happen now?” Blue asked, clearly shaken by the rapid turn of

events. Her gaze kept shifting toward the fire and tears gathered in her eyes.

“This is the beginning not the end,” Tamara insisted. “You’re free for the first time

in your life. The danger is behind you forever. You understand who and what you are

now. You can shape life into whatever you want.”

“But I don’t know how to be anything else.”
Blue’s obvious vulnerability tore at Tamara’s heart, but she wouldn’t relent. She

was not her mother. She couldn’t peddle flesh and trade on people’s happiness. She

would never be a madam. “Then learn. It was my mother’s sponsorship that got you

into this life, so I’ll sponsor you if you’re willing to work your way out. I’ll pay for your

education as long as your grades are good. But you have to be willing to work.”

“Accept it, Blue,” Paul urged. “You’ll never get an offer like this again.”
Blue crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. “I accept. Thank you.”
Paul wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her an encouraging squeeze.

“I guess this means I’m out of a job too.”

Tamara smiled. “I’m afraid so. If and when I rebuild, what I put on this land will

have no resemblance to the Pleasure Palace.”

He nodded, but his eyes were sad. “Can’t say I blame you. Good luck with

whatever you decide.” He turned Blue away from the fire and they walked off across

the lot.

Jericho spun Tamara around and kissed her deeply, his fingers spread in her hair.

“Is this how you saw the night ending?”

She laughed. “Yeah, I planned it all this way.”
“Well, I can never tell. You’re seriously crafty.” He reached down and pinched her

bottom. “That was a good thing you did with Blue.” He settled his arm around her

shoulder and they headed back to the Fantasy Forum.

“It started me thinking.”
He laughed. “That’s always dangerous.”

Aubrey Ross

122

“Why don’t I build a college or a trade school, some sort of center that can help

people escape—”

“The pleasure industry?” The challenge in his tone was unmistakable. “Careful,

Professor, your coming precariously close to stepping on my toes. Don’t forget I make

my living in the pleasure industry.”

“It’s not the same and you know it. But I didn’t mean just the pleasure industry. I

meant any situation that could be bettered with more education and more options. I’ll

keep the costs as low as possible and offer scholarships for those who can’t afford to

pay at all. I’ll…” His rich, warm laughter derailed her train of thought. “Why are you

laughing at me?”

“I’m not.” He turned her to face him and gazed into her eyes. “I think you’re

amazing. And just when I think I have you figured out, you do something even more

amazing.” He brushed his mouth over hers then nipped her bottom lip. “Are you ready

to admit you love me yet?”

“No.” She hid her smile as she turned away. She had accepted that she was

hopelessly in love with him, but he was already too arrogant. Instead she threaded her

fingers through his and gave his hand a playful squeeze. “You’re going to have to be

satisfied with lust or find a way to convince me you’re worth loving.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “It is.”
“You’re on.” Before she could guess his intention, he bent and tossed her over his

shoulder. He strode on toward his hotel while her laughter floated off into the smoke-

filled night.

About the Author

Aubrey Ross writes an eclectic assortment of erotic fiction. From power struggles

between futuristic clans to adventurous mystic guardians, her stories are filled with

passion and imagination. Some of her recent awards include an EPPIE finalist, two

Passionate Plume finalists and a CAPA nomination from the Romance Studio.

With a pampered cat curled on the corner of her desk, Aubrey dreams up

fascinating words and larger than life adventures—and wouldn’t have it any other way!

Aubrey welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email

address on her

author bio page

www.ellorascave.com

Tell Us What You Think

We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at

Comments@EllorasCave.com

Print books by Aubrey Ross

Candy Cravings

anthology

Ellora’s Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy IV

anthology

Sensual Captivity: Seducer

Sensual Captivity: Shifter

Sensual Captivity: Sorcerer

Sensual Captivity: Specter

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning

publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC

on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you

breathless.

www.ellorascave.com

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