Emma Holly (12 page)

She blew out a breath like someone surfacing from a dream. "Yes," she said, "I would like that."

She shot Maurice one last glance before they left. Engrossed as he was, the object of her attention didn't notice. This time she displayed no worry. This time she looked the tiniest bit disappointed that she couldn't stay. Apparently, whatever her feelings on bondage, she very much liked watching others being denied. Wheels turned in B.G.'s head as he calculated how best to exploit that.

So it begins
, he thought.
Another slow unfoldment of a human soul
. In spite of all the reasons to be cautious in the execution of his plan, in spite of the many variables that could go wrong, B.G. was looking forward to what lay ahead.

After all, if this girl could touch his stunted emotions, she'd have no trouble shaking Eric's to the ground.

By
the time Eric carried Charity's things to her room, she was gone. He'd purposefully hung back to give her and B.G. time alone, but he hadn't expected both to leave. Charity's absence in particular caused a pang he regretted having to acknowledge. This experience was supposed to be about expanding her horizons and increasing her confidence. It wasn't about keeping her to himself.

He left her carryall on the bed, figuring she'd prefer to unpack her own belongings. Idle then, his feet led him to B.G.'s suite. He didn't necessarily believe he'd find the pair together, but the least evolved part of him needed to be sure.

B.G.'s door was open when he arrived. His private apartment was part of the complex's buried rooms, with a geodesic skylight that let in a soft-edged, magical flood of sun. The atmosphere inside was cozy—sound-proofed, naturally—the sitting room decorated in shades of blue and cream with furniture that was the most traditional in the house. Eric's own mother would have felt at home with this old European charm.

Adding to the ambiance, built-in bookshelves topped with pediments and flanked by columns overflowed with B.G.'s varied personal library. Dog-eared scientific journals, novels, and nonfiction were shoved into whatever space had been closest when B.G. set them down. Here and there a title better suited for undereducated waitresses leapt out, like
Mind Power for the New Millennium
! and
Are
Humans Alone
? Because B.G. couldn't be talked—or teased—out of keeping these things, Eric had learned to pretend he didn't see them. Now he rolled his eyes at
Ten Steps to Success
and stepped inside.

B.G. sat beneath the skylight in one of his spindly French-looking chairs. He was alone, which made Eric happier than it should. A desk on a clever mahogany arm was swung in front of him, allowing him to tap out letters on his laptop. Even when he was off-duty, B.G. maintained a correspondence with scientists—including aspiring ones. No high school egghead who managed to obtain his email would hope in vain for a response. B.G. claimed their questions kept him from going stale. Eric was pretty sure he was being nice. It was one of the traits he most admired in his friend.

B.G. going stale was a possibility Eric could not conceive.

After typing a few more sentences and hitting
Send
, B.G. looked up. "Hey," he said with a grin of welcome that gave Eric's conscience another twist. "Come to quiz me about our guest?"

Eric took a seat on the corner of the settee that matched B.G.'s chair. Like all his furniture, it was more comfortable than it appeared. As B.G. liked to say, there wasn't a piece in the place that you couldn't get busy on. He sounded silly when he said it, but he never minded if Eric laughed.

"I
was
wondering what you thought of her," Eric confessed.

B.G. smiled, closed his laptop, and swung the desk aside. "I think she won't disappoint you."

"My concern is that she not disappoint you." The words weren't strictly true—it was Charity's reaction that concerned him most—but the claim came as easily as if he were sincere.

"Eric, Eric, Eric," B.G. scolded. "It's not a crime to put yourself first."

"I do," Eric said. "I have."
At least once rather ignominiously
. Despite the private reminder, he didn't object when B.G. took his face between his hands and kissed him gently to silence. The tension from his memories drained as B.G.'s fingers slid into his hair, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles beneath his ears.

B.G. hummed with satisfaction as he relaxed. It might have been Eric's imagination, but when the kiss deepened, he thought he tasted a hint of Charity.

His stomach tightened even as he got hard. He was throbbing by the time B.G. eased away. For the first time since he could remember, a silence felt awkward.

"Do you want me to set up a scene for her?" Eric asked, knowing B.G. would understand who he meant. "Maybe play out something with Maurice?"

B.G. held his gaze a moment before speaking. His expression was mild but intense. Eric didn't try to identify what lay behind it. B.G.'s emotional inscrutability was old news.

"No," his boss said at last. "I'd like to study her a while longer. Investigators are useful, but they can't tell you a person's deepest desires. I want to judge for myself what makes Ms. Wills tick. I suspect she'll be worth the supplemental time." He smoothed his thumb across Eric's eyebrow, coaxing it to lie in place.

"You don't mind waiting a bit, do you? Before you play with her yourself?"

"I'm supposed to mind," Eric said, rather than put in words how much he wanted her right away.

"Well, yes, but I don't want you miserable."

"I'm not."

"But you do find her attractive?"

"Of course I do. Who wouldn't?"

B.G. cocked his head. "She's different from the others," he said, and Eric didn't want to ask whether he meant different in general or different for Eric. "You chose well."

He shrugged. "She has a lot of fire."

B.G. made a quiet noise that could have been a laugh. "Yes,
fire
is a fine word. One might also say she's sex on wheels. Maurice was quite inspired by her today." His hand dragged down the center of Eric's chest, down his breastbone, and over his waistband, his fingertips coming to a halt an inch from the straining tip of his erection. "Would you like to take one of the others in the meantime?"

"No," Eric said, perhaps too quickly. "I'd rather wait until Charity's ready."

"Hm." B.G. shifted his hand so the heat of his palm overhung Eric's shaft. "I think you might be too patient. Maybe you need winding up."

"Me?" The word was startled out of him.

Seeing this, B.G. chuckled. "Yes, you. Or did you think your position puts you beyond my personal attention?"

"No, but I hardly think I need—"

"Unbutton your shirt," B.G. said softly, cutting him off. He nodded toward the lidded cardboard box that sat on the small round table beside his chair. Though its wrapping was nondescript, muscles tightened in Eric's groin. He'd seen boxes like this before.

"Scarlet Creations sent me a package today," B.G. said, confirming his suspicions. "A few new products they'd like me to help them tweak. I think they might prove helpful tonight."

Scarlet Creations was a small sex-toy company B.G. had invested in as a lark after they solicited his advice on the best way to reduce torque in a ceiling swing. Given his usual uncanny financial luck—which Eric refused to ascribe to his more sensationalistic reading—it was no surprise that his share of the venture was now worth five times what it had been originally. As thanks for his continuing help, the company sent him periodic gifts—some more welcome than others.

"Just promise it doesn't involve edible underwear."

"It doesn't," B.G. said. "I didn't think much of that offering myself. No, they sent the latest version of your favorite cock ring, plus a few custom pieces I suggested they might develop."

Eric paused in pulling his shirt tails out of his slacks. "Custom?"

"Anyone could use them," B.G. said, rising to help him with the buttons. "But they were designed with your tastes in mind."

Eric's shirt was open now, and B.G.'s palms ran savoringly over his skin. "I'll never tire of this," he murmured. "The feel of you. Breathing harder under my hands."

This unexpected sweetness had Eric's eyes stinging. Then B.G. brought out his first surprise, a tube of minty-smelling ointment that he rubbed around the outer edge of Eric's nipples. B.G. was right about this shipment catering to Eric's taste. He'd always been susceptible to nipple play.

"Encourages blood flow," B.G. said as he pulled out the tips gently. "This will get them hard and keep them that way for hours. Plus, it's more discreet than wearing a pair of clamps under your shirt. There."

His lashes dipped to admire the results. "Nice and rosy and sharp. And no numbness, I presume."

"No," Eric confirmed. "The sensation is very nice." Even without B.G. fondling him, the tingling went through him in peculiar but pleasant streaks. He was so sensitive he could feel each stirring of the air.

When B.G. touched the center of one nub, he jumped.

"Good," B.G. said. "You can tell me later if you think we ought to try this on Charity."

Without warning, the image of her in her apartment, stripping her clothes over her head, came starkly back. Her nipples had been pale pink, full and soft except for a stiffening at the tips. He regretted now that he hadn't sucked them. He knew they would have been smooth.

Loyalties torn, he cleared his throat at the sudden jolting of his cock.

He and Charity had been on their own when that happened. Unlike their scene with Maurice, B.G. could neither watch what Eric had done, nor hear the story she'd asked him to tell—a personal one, to say the least. Eric had given Charity a window on his and B.G.'s relationship even as he'd been shutting his old friend out. "I'll, uh, study the effects with her in mind," he said uncomfortably.

"Good," B.G. said again and patted his arm. Unlike Eric, he seemed disgustingly free of the envy gene.

"Now drop your trousers and bend over the back of that chair."

Eric hesitated briefly and then obeyed. As he'd expected, B.G.'s eyes widened at the state of his erection. Rather than comment, or decide he didn't need winding up after all, he gestured Eric to turn around. Eric braced himself on the chair arms while B.G. stroked the length of his flank.

Eric knew he meant to put him at ease. A partner's comfort was always critical to his boss.

"We'll use regular lube for this," he said, moving away for a moment behind him. "Until we're sure that mint stuff won't numb you out." He tapped the inside of Eric's thighs. "A little wider please. And relax."

Something slick and cool nudged him from the back. Eric didn't recognize its shape as one of their usual toys.

"What
is
that?"

"A remote-controlled vibrating anal plug."

"Jeez."

"Yes," B.G. agreed. "I wish it had a more aesthetic name, but I suppose this is preferable to something cute."

"I can't even imagine." Eric gasped and struggled not to tense as the thing slid past the nerve-rich inches inside his entrance. The plug was small, no more than thumb-size, with a flaring base and a give that told him it was rubber. The tip didn't quite reach his prostate. Eric suspected that omission wouldn't be much help once its mechanism was turned on. "You're keeping control of the remote?"

B.G. laughed. "Yes. And I don't want you to let on I have it. For tonight, this toy is just between us.

Later, however, I strongly encourage you to tell Charity. I've discovered she likes the idea of other people's sexual suffering."

Eric tried to process this information without resenting how B.G. had likely obtained it. Without warning, a buzzing from inside had him gripping the chair. B.G. had turned on the vibrator. Though the sound was low, the feeling was not. As his fingers turned to claws, his hair prickled from his scalp down to his toes, his balls and buttocks shivering deliciously. The sensations were so intense, he thought he was done for.

Luckily, even as he huffed out a breath for control, the vibrations eased back to a dull, penetrating throb.

His cock felt as if it were stuffed, but not in imminent danger of blastoff.

He found his voice only after the thing switched off. "Damn," he said. "If you want to keep that toy a secret, you'd better stick to the low setting."

"Duly noted," B.G. said. "Now let's see if you can stand."

He could—barely. Four narrow velvet ribbons led from the base of the plug, two of which B.G. pulled forward so they ran between his balls and thighs. He tied them over Eric's hipbones to the ribbons running from the back. The toy felt secure but odd, making him aware of places he usually forgot. Happy to be reminded, his erection jounced against his abdomen.

The arrangement of bows must have looked amusing because B.G. smiled.

"Fuck you," Eric said, and the smile became a grin.

Unfortunately for his pride, his knees weren't steady enough to bend. B.G. retrieved his trousers and pulled them up.

"You're lucky you buy these loose," he said as he zipped them and did the catch.

Eric waited until his friend's eyes came up. "I always feel lucky when I'm with you."

"As I do with you."

Briefly, B.G. touched his cheek. He seemed embarrassed, which wasn't like him, turning hastily away to resume his seat. Once there, he pointed a remote at a length of paneling. The retractable wall slid up to