No Limits (4 page)
4
A
few hours later, weighted down with enough stuff for a week in upstate New York, Gen sat watching the world through the transparent force field of mass transit Hudson line 1. The descent down the airway from New New York to the polluted rubble of the original city flew by as the sonic train built up speed to hit Mach 1.
few hours later, weighted down with enough stuff for a week in upstate New York, Gen sat watching the world through the transparent force field of mass transit Hudson line 1. The descent down the airway from New New York to the polluted rubble of the original city flew by as the sonic train built up speed to hit Mach 1.
Her family’s cabin was located on Lake George, due north of Albany. Mass transit would get her most of the way there at the speed of sound, but she’d need to credit a rental vehicle for the rest of the trip. It was probably for the best that she didn’t have time to think, seeing as how panic lurked just beneath the surface.
Gen had to settle for a two-seater rental. The hum of the solar-powered engine reminded her of a gnat buzzing in her ear. She glanced at the slate-colored sky, shivering as thick clouds blocked out the weak sunlight. Not exactly a terrific snow car, and if they had enough precipitation, she’d be stranded.
Well, that’s the idea, isn’t it? To wallow in hedonistic revelry?
Why couldn’t she work up more enthusiasm over the prospect of getting shagged silly? Gen pondered the question as she stocked up on food and other staples at the local store. The aisles had been picked clean—another sure sign that winter weather closed in.
Why couldn’t she work up more enthusiasm over the prospect of getting shagged silly? Gen pondered the question as she stocked up on food and other staples at the local store. The aisles had been picked clean—another sure sign that winter weather closed in.
She pulled up the gravel drive, missing the sound of crunching stones under tires. The hover car set down with an easy bump, so different than Nana’s big black truck. There had been something so quaint about the sound of gravel under the wheels, as if the give of the driveway had welcomed them, the noise heralding the final moment when the journey ended.
Maybe deciding to bring her pleasure companions here had been a mistake. After all, how could she possibly hope to lose all her inhibitions in her childhood bedroom? But the thought of doing this anywhere else seemed wrong.
Irrational anger bubbled up as she exited the car and hunched against the wind. Why was she already getting herself worked up over her inability to orgasm? Sex was a biological need, an instinctual drive every adult animal obeyed. While love ... Well outside of her grandparents, Gen had yet to witness one true-to-life example of romantic attachment.
Nana and Gramps are just freaks of nature, that’s all.
Nana and Gramps are just freaks of nature, that’s all.
Case in point, she had to dig out an actual
key
to enter the house, as Gramps refused to upgrade to a thumbprint reader. The air smelled musty inside, since the cabin had been closed up for quite a while. Braving the cold, she threw open the windows to air the place out.
key
to enter the house, as Gramps refused to upgrade to a thumbprint reader. The air smelled musty inside, since the cabin had been closed up for quite a while. Braving the cold, she threw open the windows to air the place out.
The cabin had six bedrooms and a spacious main living area. As testament to a technology-free life, the building didn’t have any modern appliances. The windows were made of actual glass instead of insulated energy screens. The door sat on hinges and creaked when opened. Heat came from a woodstove and the large river-stone fireplace. Food was stored in an actual refrigerator and prepared on a gas stove. They didn’t even have a microwave, for pity’s sake, technology so old it outdated Nana!
Despite its rustic nature, this cabin, with its view of the lake and the foothills of the Adirondacks beyond, was Gen’s favorite spot in the world. Resting her palm and forehead against the glass, she watched night roll in. A small measure of peace filled her, the first since she’d been fired. The world slowed down here, let her catch her breath, focus on the important stuff.
If I could just figure out what the important stuff is.
If I could just figure out what the important stuff is.
A shiver of anticipation flowed through her. What would this session be like? Would these professionals ease her in, or would they expect to perform the moment they walked through the door? The cold air from the open window made her nipples tighten into rigid peaks that jolted awareness through her.
I am really going to do this!
I am really going to do this!
Her comm unit chirped, relaying a message. With an automated prompt, she asked for vocal replay only and busied her hands with lighting a fire in the grate.
“Hi, Gen, it’s Alison. We’ve got four pleasure companions lined up, but one, Marshal, can’t make it until tomorrow due to a prior commitment. Javier, Steven, and Franco will be there by seven o’clock. They’re all good guys, no history of violence or criminal records. But make sure you ask for ID before you let them in, okay? Remember, you are the one holding the reins. They’re there for you.” Silence reigned, and Gen could imagine Alison sucking in a breath. “I really appreciate this. Call me when you have a little downtime and update me on your progress.”
The message ended as Gen struck a match. Javier, Steven, and Franco with a Marshal kicker. She didn’t feel brave—more like psychotic for having agreed to this madness. Four men were coming here to fuck her senseless. A slow grin stole across her face.
Secret shopper, my lily-white ass. I’m a slut in training.
Secret shopper, my lily-white ass. I’m a slut in training.
Her heart rate kicked into overdrive as she thought about the logistics of it. If they were all as hot as Franco, maybe she’d be able to come after all.
Glancing at her comm timepiece, she saw she had an hour to get ready for their arrival. Hauling all her stuff out of the car, Gen set up for her stay, planning where she’d do what with whomever had been selected. She’d just hopped out of the shower when a knock sounded on the outer door.
Taking a moment to survey herself in the mirror, Gen studied her violet eyes, apple cheeks, and long, dark wet hair that was only just starting to thread through with gray. Opening the towel, she stared at her full breasts, softly rounded belly, and the dark tangle of curls at the apex of her thighs.
Venus on the half shell, anyone?
Venus on the half shell, anyone?
The knock came again, and she dropped the towel and slipped her arms through the sleeves of her silk robe. Her eyes glowed with a primal knowledge, anticipation zinging through her veins like lightning bolts.
Javier, Steven, Franco, and Marshal, you don’t know what you’re about to get yourselves into.
Javier, Steven, Franco, and Marshal, you don’t know what you’re about to get yourselves into.
“Damn,
chica
, you are totally fuckable.” The dark-haired Hispanic man gave Gen a quick up-and-down look and smirked. “This ain’t gonna be no hardship.”
chica
, you are totally fuckable.” The dark-haired Hispanic man gave Gen a quick up-and-down look and smirked. “This ain’t gonna be no hardship.”
Gen blinked, not sure she’d heard him right. Had he paid her a compliment? Somehow, being called “totally fuckable” didn’t seem to warrant a thank-you. “Won’t you please come in?”
Double entendre much, Genevieve?
“Yeah, man, move your hairy ass. It’s fracking cold out here.” A massive blond shoved the first man out of the way. He didn’t even glance at Gen as he stomped his way inside. “Hurry up, Franco. Let’s shut the door sometime this century.”
Franco scowled at the other two as he entered the cabin, which seemed much smaller than it had before the testosterone level had spiked to cardiac-arrest levels. He turned to face Gen, and his expression thawed. “Nice to see you again so soon, my lovely.” In a curiously old-fashioned gesture, he took her hand and bent low to brush his lips over her knuckles. His long dark hair was pulled into a tight braid. She wondered if he suspected that she was more than just a client.
“Jesus, man. Enough with the fracking act already.” The blond rubbed his hands vigorously, taking up residence in front of the fireplace.
Franco scowled at the other man’s back. “Courtesy, Steven, is a habit, not an act.”
Plastering what she hoped looked like a genuine smile on her face, Gen fell back into the role of hostess. “Anyone hungry?”
The blond, Steven, glanced over. “You bet your sweet ass we are. That was one hell of a trip, and I pulled a doubleheader last night. Need to feed the big soldier if you want the little one to stand to.” He winked at Javier, who laughed.
Note to self: that was not a very sexy response.
Steven seemed to have a bit of an attitude problem. Javier, uncouth though he may be, was at least trying. Franco was as smooth as ever, but something about him unsettled her. Nothing definitive she could report back to Alison. “I can just go and fix—” Gen started toward the kitchen, but Franco stopped her, placing a hand on her arm. His touch was light but somehow menacing at the same time.
Steven seemed to have a bit of an attitude problem. Javier, uncouth though he may be, was at least trying. Franco was as smooth as ever, but something about him unsettled her. Nothing definitive she could report back to Alison. “I can just go and fix—” Gen started toward the kitchen, but Franco stopped her, placing a hand on her arm. His touch was light but somehow menacing at the same time.
“Dinner can wait. You are the client, and we should get started with you. Perhaps you need to warm up a bit. Come sit over by the fire.” Franco took her hand in a firm grip and tugged her toward the hearth. Pushing lightly but insistently on her shoulders, he forced her down onto the couch. “Do you require something to drink? I can get you a glass of wine or maybe some hot tea?”
“No thanks.” Gen got the feeling he was maneuvering her, just as he had done the night before. Was his personality really so dominant that he would keep pushing her even when she felt unsure?
Slipping his hand beneath the crook of her knee, he used his thumb to lightly massage the skin there, a few buzzes from their health shields taking care of any unwanted guests at this private moment. Even under his masterful touch, her mind would not stop churning, and she froze up, bombarded with the stark reality.
Franco’s mouth replaced his thumb as he kissed the sensitive skin at her knee. He wouldn’t get paid if she didn’t use him to satisfy herself sexually. She wondered what would happen if she told him to bugger off. Would he continue to push her against her will? Her gaze shifted to where Javier and Steven flanked the fireplace, exchanging significant glances at each other as though she and Franco didn’t exist.
She recalled Alison’s words about how
she
was supposed to be in control.
Fake it till you make it, babe.
Her mind flitted back to the best part of their earlier encounter, the part she’d missed when it was over. “Do you have that candle with you?”
she
was supposed to be in control.
Fake it till you make it, babe.
Her mind flitted back to the best part of their earlier encounter, the part she’d missed when it was over. “Do you have that candle with you?”
His tongue darted out, licking a trail along her inner thigh, her germ shield preventing the wet contact. “Liked that, did you?” Lifting his head, he nodded to Javier, who lit the candle someone had perched on the fireplace. She watched the wick catch fire, seeming to spark, and felt a corresponding ignition deep within her belly. Knots of tension unfurled, letting her relax and enjoy his ministrations.
“Good girl,” Franco murmured as she sank back into the soft cushions of the couch, ready to let him do whatever he intended. She was just the town bike this time out—everyone got to ride. Not yet, though; she hadn’t advanced that far and wanted to work her way up the ladder, not have a line waiting for her services. “Can we have a little privacy, please?”
Doors closed, and she smiled down at Franco. “We’re really going to do this again, huh?”
“Tell me what you like, Genevieve.” His hands started working on her bathrobe, fumbling with the knot there. Had she really tied it so tightly? Oh well, she didn’t feel even remotely interested in helping him. Big, strong man could work this out all by his lonesome.
Feeling coy all of a sudden, she asked, “What’s your specialty?”
He glanced up from her ritualistic disrobement. “Domination, of course.”
She thought about that for a beat. “Like whips and chains, bondage—that kind of thing?”
Through clenched teeth, he explained, “Those are just props. Domination is all about control.”
She fingered his braid, enjoying the silky texture of it. “And you like to be in control. Is that right, Franco?”
“It’s my specialty.” The frantic tugging increased. “I’m a master in the art of shibari. I have tied up countless bottoms with intricate patterns designed to stimulate as well as immobilize the willing recipient.”
A little thrill shot straight to her core. “Tell me more about the ... stimulation.”
“I prefer to show rather than tell.” The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Would you like to play at submissive for me, Gen?”
The idea intrigued her. What better way to shop out Franco’s abilities than to have him play on his area of expertise? “I’m not into pain.”
He smiled. “There are many different levels of shibari. Tease and denial are often used to add a little ... spice to vanilla sex. First thing, though, you need to pick a safe word.”
She felt her eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Safe word?”
He stroked his finger down between her eyebrows in a featherlight touch. “Something you wouldn’t ordinarily say, a code that if you speak aloud, I will stop whatever I’m doing immediately.”
Her mind went blank. “Um ... ?”
Franco took pity on her. “How about the name of a place? A city you’ve never been to.”
“New Chicago? I heard that the rebuilding on the hover foundation attached to the old city is almost as good as in New New York.” Gen winced as her babble switch flipped to the gibbering setting. She couldn’t help it; she always prattled when she felt nervous.
From the look on Franco’s face, he considered stuffing a ball gag in her mouth. She wanted to hide, but then she remembered that any negative experience was his fault, not hers. After a lifetime of taking on the blame for everything, she had to school herself to remember that. With another glance at the candle, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.
Franco raised an eyebrow. “New Chicago it is.”
He reached into his man bag and extracted a length of white rope. “For this session, you will call me
nawashi.
”
nawashi.
”
“Why?”
“Loosely translated, it means ‘master rope artist.’ Stand up and disrobe.” His tone brooked no argument.
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