Chapter 4 – Enemy Territory #3
“You’re a scoundrel,” she murmured in exhaustion against his chest, not yet daring to look at him. “If I’d had the slightest idea of what I was letting myself in for by seducing you, I would have run a mile.”
“Why?” asked Jack, now even more concerned, lifting Marci automatically off his lap, robbing him of the wonderful feeling of being joined with her. He put her down carefully next to him and looked at her attentively.
Marci sat with her head back and her eyes closed and gave another moan, but this time not of arousal.
To Jack’s sharp hearing, it sounded like a peculiar mix of satisfaction and exhaustion.
“You’ve ruined me forever, Jack,” she murmured, giving him an elated smile.
“I’m never going to be able to have sex with a normal man ever again.
That was incredible.” She looked at him with an expression of genuine amazement, before launching herself at him and giving him a passionate kiss on the mouth.
“I want to do that over and over again, Jack,” she admitted breathlessly. “Only with you. Do you understand?”
“What, right now?” he asked, completely prepared to accede to her wish.
“Oh my God!” Her exclamation was one of exhaustion.
“If you want me to still be able to walk in my high heels this evening, you’ll keep your incredible talents to yourself for now.
Speaking of which…” She looked at him provocatively.
“If all robots are as talented as you, we don’t have to worry about marketing MfM – no human woman who experiences that kind of pleasure will ever want to get involved with a normal guy again. ”
Jack gave a casual smile and continued to admire her; sitting there with her cheeks flushed with pleasure and an expression of deep satisfaction in her beautiful eyes, she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever met.
He was thrilled that his bold approach had given her so much pleasure, but he was also not certain whether it was enough to make Marci fall in love with him.
Currently, it looked more like she saw him as simply a welcome opportunity to find physical satisfaction.
Particularly when she looked him up and down with an appraising look in her eyes and whispered something flippant in his ear that took him a few minutes to understand.
“You’ve passed the prototype test with flying colours.
” Without waiting for him to reply, she kissed him again.
“I thought you’d had enough of me,” he asked with a querying smile, pulling her closer to him and covering her throat and breasts with more soft kisses.
“Maybe I’ve got a death wish,” she gasped in his ear, sliding her hot, yielding flesh onto him and taking his whole shaft inside her.
Jack felt his precisely calibrated mind start to fray, let go of his restraint and took her even harder and more intensely than before.
It wasn’t the physical satisfaction that gripped him the most; it was the way she looked at him as she let herself fly and trusted him completely.
Getting out of the shower with wobbly legs, Marci put on her wine-red evening dress that was cut down to her navel, elegantly emphasising her ample cleavage, feeling as if she were in a dream.
The neckline and thigh-slit of the knee-length dress were edged with subtle fluting that finished a hand’s width above her navel and below her hips, leaving just a narrow strip of material connecting the top and skirt sections of the dress, beneath which Marci wore a tiny pair of knickers in the same colour that covered just enough of the completely smooth skin beneath.
Looking in the mirror, she trembled as she remembered the thorough attention that Jack had paid to that part of her.
Fortunately, it wasn’t obvious from the outside how much the arousal he had awoken in her still raged, the shower having at least removed all outward signs of Jack’s passion.
He was very much still here, though, standing large as life behind her in a gorgeous tailored dinner jacket. She only had to look into his expressive green eyes to know what he would rather be doing than going to this hideous ball.
“Are you ready?” he asked gruffly, not touching her even though he really wanted to.
Marci hastily applied her blood-red lipstick, checking in the mirror that none of it had ended up on her teeth, and then prepared to submit herself into his ever-vigilant care.
Jack had sorted everything out, including the holographic invitations for the ball that were now stored in his wristband and would enable them to access even the PanAmerican President’s high-security suite.
Marci still couldn’t believe that she was going to attend an event like this, but with Jack at her side, things were starting to seem less impossible.
Walking past incredibly beautiful women who could have been either humans or robots, she practically floated along at Jack’s side as they headed to Montgomery MacIntyre’s reception committee, where an agent welcomed them with a glass of French champagne.
“Forster Rickman.” The blond thirtysomething introduced himself with a slick smile. “Montgomery MacIntyre’s indispensable right hand.”
Jack showed Marci’s holographic invitation to the assistant to prove that she was the real Skyla Rosebud.
She felt an instant dislike for Rickman, even though his blue eyes and impeccable appearance of a male underwear model made him almost as good-looking as Jack.
Almost. He was slightly shorter than Jack and didn’t look nearly as dangerous.
Rickman looked at him with irritation but Jack kept his expression carefully blank.
“Wouldn’t you rather leave the robot outside? ”
“Not at all, Mr Rickman,” Marci replied flirtatiously.
“This robot is my personal companion for the evening and an illustration for your boss.” She was surprised how the words fell from her lips.
“I think he’d like a glass of champagne, too, wouldn’t you?
” She gave Jack a look of invitation, and he responded with a brief smile.
“As Madame wishes.” Jack looked at her loyally and gave a slight bow.
“I have to admit, I like the look of your robot, Ms Rosebud.” Sounding amused, Rickman handed Jack a glass of champagne without sparing him a glance. “Apparently he knows how to behave. Is there one for men, too?”
“I think it’s time for women to have a go first,” countered Marci confidently.
“I hear that you want to use MfM to take CRU’s business into the erotic market.
Aren’t you taking on a bit much? I mean, your model here looks really good, but how on earth is a male robot supposed to satisfy a woman?
Men are normally only interested in screwing, but women want heart and soul when they sleep with a man.
They want to be recognised and appreciated as a woman.
How is a robot, particularly one based on a combat robot, supposed to do that? ”
“You’d be surprised, Mr Rickman.” Marci responded to his overweening arrogance with a defiant tone.
She had no intention of sharing Jack with anyone.
She simply had to persuade Montgomery MacIntyre that her business was sound and that he should take her on as a business partner so that she could access the plans for his secret production facilities.
Rickman seemed unimpressed and led her and Jack to their table, one of a hundred in the lavishly decorated conference hall, each one laden with expensive glass and china.
All the tables were set for six people and while some were already occupied by couples, others had only women, waiting for their men who were still in the lounge area chatting with business associates and other individuals from select social circles.
To Marci’s horror, Rickman showed her to a seat next to Lorna Atkinson, the wife of the governor of Illinois.
It was not only the neon display on the table that revealed her identity; Marci knew her face from the gossip sites.
It was then that Marci felt absolutely certain that she didn’t belong here, and only felt more nervous as another extremely attractive woman appeared at their table – a blonde wearing a stunning silver sequined gown of pure silk, slit to the thigh, showing her pert breasts and long, flawless legs to perfection.
To cap it all, she had beautiful violet eyes and full, shimmering pink lips.
“May I introduce you?” drawled Rickman, aiming a brash smile at the two women at the table. He nodded to Marci. “This is Skyla Rosebud, entrepreneur and owner of a start-up that’s developing a new generation of escort robots.”
“And this is Lorna Atkinson, wife of our highly esteemed governor.” He glanced appreciatively at the attractive brunette, whose copper eyes matched the colour of her dress.
“And this,” he continued with a slightly stilted gesture, “is her friend, Jill Ambush.” Gallantly, he pulled up a chair for the dazzling blonde and she sat down in a single elegant movement.
“You must know each other,” he said to Marci. “Jill is the sister-in-law of our highly esteemed President and runs one of the most well-known lifestyle magazines. I am sure you women will have an entertaining evening.” He winked lasciviously, gave Jack a suggestive look and walked away.
Despite her lack of enthusiasm, Marci held out her hand to the richly bejewelled governor’s wife and the perfectly groomed sister-in-law of the President.
Jill Ambush came across as artificial and not very likeable, but Marci still felt sorry for her.
It can’t have been easy being left for a younger-looking robot woman, an experience she shared with Rochelle MacIntyre.
Marci’s sympathy was immediately quashed, however, as she saw the sly look that Jill gave Jack’s imposing figure, as if she were the snake and he was the rabbit, barely taking the time to give Marci a casual nod.