The Pleasure Bot (Planet Desire Book 4) (2 page)

Priscilla eyed him with suspicion. “Sounds expensive.”

He gave her a reproving look. “Agnes assured me you can afford it, so quit grousing.”

“Agnes has been a busy girl,” Priscilla mumbled.

“Have to keep one step ahead of the old reformat button,” Agnes muttered.

“She promises you will not be disappointed,” Tonio said, glancing to the side, “and I’ll personally guarantee it.”

Priscilla licked her lips. “If this toy is so special, why can’t I just purchase it?”

“This is only a market trial. Pinnacle wants to see whether the demand is in the market place before they refit a plant for mass production.”

“I don’t know. A sex robot seems kind of…decadent.” Her fingers crept back between her legs.

“We’ll throw in a full refurbish of your saddle tramp,” he said, his tone wheedling.

Priscilla angled her head. The bot sounded too good to be true, but she was desperate. “Tonio, can I have the robot delivered now? Pretty please.” She pouted her lips.

“I’m sorry, dear. They’re all out at the moment. One will free up in two days—just in time for the weekend. Shall I book it for Friday through Sunday?”

“Sounds like a mini-vacation,” Agnes murmured.

A vacation. What a novel thought. Priscilla settled back against the cushions. She’d keep her uplink to work turned off the entire weekend. Three whole days of sensual hedonism…

“Would you like to take it somewhere special?” Agnes asked.

Priscilla grimaced. With her luck, every last person she ever knew would see her with her un-real man. “In public? I don’t think so.”

“Oh, but the robot’s true nature would be indiscernible from any human,” Tonio said. “I promise, he’s entirely lifelike and intelligent.”

“All right, so he has table manners and can laugh at my crummy jokes. Still, I’d like to get the most enjoyment for my money—we’ll stay here.”

“Good. Then he’ll pack light.”

“Will he be programmed to my…specifications?”

Tonio waggled his perfectly symmetrical eyebrows. “Hon, he’ll be hung like a horse.”

Priscilla grinned and slid her fingers inside her still wet pussy. “Mmmm. What did you say this toy is called?”

Tonio arched a wicked brow. “I didn’t. Darling, it’s called The Pleasure Bot.”

‡

D
eclan O’Hanlon made
a sharp turn and loped down a narrow alley. Ducking into a dim archway, he flattened his back against a dingy shop door. A second later his partner, Reiver Mace, slid in beside him, panting. The clomping of many booted feet passed the alley and grew fainter as the patrol continued down the street.

The two men shared a glance, and then grinned.

“Bloody hell! That was close.” Reiver wiped sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket. “That last shot damn near singed my balls. Where the hell did Customs come from?”

“Those bastard Scots!” Declan growled. “McEwen warned us off his territory. Must have turned us in. He probably got wind of our special cargo and couldn’t take the competition.”

“What about the ship?”

Declan’s hands curled into fists. “Undoubtedly confiscated—along with the cargo.”

“Shit! Five months of work down the crapper.” Reiver’s lips thinned. “Do you think the rest of the crew made it out?”

“Yeah, I drew the agents away from the front hatch while everyone else snuck out the rear.”

Reiver’s nose wrinkled, and he sniffed. “Christ! Did you bathe in whiskey?”

Declan glowered and turned away to peek around the corner. “I was carrying a crate out when they got the drop on me,” he said, over his shoulder. “Their first shot shattered the bottles.”

Reiver groaned. “Tell me it wasn’t the Samureen Black Label.”

Declan grunted. “What else?”

“I’m almost tempted to lick you, but I know how long it’s been since you’ve bathed.”

Declan gave his friend a shove. “Just as long ago as you.”

Reiver’s grin slipped, and he shot him a worried glance. “So, what do we do now?”

Declan peeked around the arch again. “I think we lost them. But we’ll have to split up. They’re looking for two of us.”

“Well, we can’t head back to the docks. It’ll be crawling with agents.”

“Nor can we hit the pubs, or any other public places—DNA sensors will trip.” Declan slapped the arch with his fist. “We have to get to a privacy zone and hole up for a couple of days. I need time to figure out how we’re going to liberate
The Maiden
.”

“The nearest gated community is
La Barria Prima
. Maybe we can find a guest house or two and squat until this thing blows over.”

“All right. Keep the chatter on the comm circuit to a minimum. We can’t risk being tracked. Whatever you do, stay away from the cathouses. Those women will turn you in for a credit.”

“Aye, Captain. Looks like our shore leave isn’t going to be quite as enjoyable as we’d planned.” Reiver glanced around the corner. “See you Sunday.” He turned up the collar on his duster coat and walked back the way they’d just come.

“Watch your ass!” Declan called after him and turned to walk the opposite way.

*

“Move a muscle,
and I’ll drop you where you stand, pardner.”

Declan froze. The man’s voice came out of nowhere, deep and with a distinctive Texas twang. From the height the voice came, this was a very tall man.

Declan had jimmied open a back window of a home in the exclusive
La Barria Prima
subdivision that appeared vacant. He’d cased the white limestone house, found the security sensors, and dismantled each before breaking in. How had he missed seeing anyone when he’d prowled through the richly decorated rooms?

With a mental shrug, he reviewed his options. If the man were armed, he might not be able to overpower him. He’d have to use his wits. He was screwed.

He straightened from the pantry door and slowly raised his hands.

“You’re Declan O’Hanlon, aren’t you? The smuggler.”

Declan nearly jerked with surprise. Had news traveled so fast? “I’m an entrepreneur,” he said, baiting a hook to extend the conversation. He needed to figure out where the man was standing, so he slowly turned his head.

“I said, don’t move.”

The man’s deep voice sounded gravelly and mean. Declan doubted he had a sense of humor. Frustration curled his hands into fists. “Look, I’m not here to steal from you or harm you.” He injected calm into his voice. “I’m just—”

“Hiding out? On the lam?”

He frowned. The Texan seemed to be enjoying his predicament. “Yeah, I ran into a spot of bad luck.”

“I’d say. As we speak, your ship’s being flown to the impound lot.”

Declan dropped his chin to his chest and swore under his breath.

“Your problems don’t end there, buddy.”

He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to take his chances and start swinging. “You seem to know an awful lot about me,” he growled.

“I have my connections. Within a minute of your entering the house, I had your entire dossier. I know your grade school teachers’ names, what ship you first signed on with, and what planet has orders to blow you out of orbit if you return.”

“If you know that much, then you also know I’m not a violent criminal.”

“Right, you’re just an
entrepreneur
who happens to run contraband through Dominion ports.”

“There are worse things,” Declan muttered, his mind racing. Was this the angle he could work? “Most of my best customers are Dominion officials. I bring them quality stock, and in return, they turn a blind eye. Is that what this is about? Would you like to cut a deal?”

“You’re looking at some hard time for today’s business—not to mention for breaking and entering.”

Declan cocked his head to the side. “So why haven’t you already called the authorities?”

“I’ll get to that. First though, I need to get a look at you. Drop your drawers.”

Declan stiffened and hoped like hell the Texan only wanted to check for hidden weapons. “Is this really necessary? I can assure you, I don’t have any weapons on me.”

“Just do as I say, or I’ll place that call to the authorities.”

Declan’s lips thinned in irritation, but he slowly lowered his hands to his belt. He loosened his breeches and pushed them down to mid-thigh. “Satisfied?”

“Drop the duster.”

Declan shouldered off his coat and let it puddle on the floor.

“Raise your hands and turn around.”

Cursing under his breath, Declan turned to face his adversary. Only there wasn’t anyone there. “What the f—”

“Does it get any bigger than that?”

Declan jerked, his hands reflexively moving toward his crotch. “What did you say?”

“That’s gonna be a tough one to get around.”

After a quick perusal of the room, Declan realized the voice came from the ceiling. “What the hell are you talking about?” His gaze searched for hidden cameras—likely the guy was watching from some sort of monitoring room. “Can I pull up me pants?”

“Yeah, might as well,” the man grumbled.

Relieved the odd inspection was over, Declan readjusted his clothing. “Are you satisfied I’m not packing?”

“That’s for sure.” The man sighed loudly. “However, life-like was guaranteed. And your ass will do fine. Take off your shirt. I want to see your chest.”

Declan scowled and made quick work of the shirt, yanking it over his head while wondering if the man was checking him for a holster.

An appreciative whistle sounded from the speakers.

Every hair on Declan’s body rose to attention. “I don’t know what this is all about, but if you think—”

“You’re free of any exotic STDs—I scanned you when you entered the kitchen. Can you perform?”

“Perform?” The muscles in his shoulders and arms bunched in rejection of the suspicion formulating…

“You know—in the sack. Can you get it up?”

“Look, I don’t bugger men, and I don’t let men bugger me.” Alarm and anger hoarsened his voice. “If you’re going to use your weapon, you’d better do it now, because I’m out of here. Call the police, if you like.” He leaned down to swipe his clothing from the floor.

“Now, hold your horses. If you want a chance to free your crew and your ship, you’d better stop right where you are.”

“Some things aren’t
up
for negotiation,” Declan growled.

“Decky, baby. I’m not after your virginity.” This time the voice was feminine, mid-forty-ish, and amused.

Were there two of them? Declan straightened, his patience at an end. “Then what are you after?”

“I want to strike a deal.”

“What kind of a deal?”

“My boss will be walking through the door any minute now. She expects a playmate for the weekend, but the playmate couldn’t be delivered. She’s going to be very grumpy.”

“Not my problem if her friend couldn’t make it.”

“Oh, but he just
did
.”

Declan didn’t much care for the sly note in the woman’s voice and narrowed his eyes. “Let me get this straight. You want me to fill in for this
friend
? And do what? Spend the weekend with your boss…shagging her brains out?”

“That about sums it up.”

“What about after?”

“I told you. I can arrange for the release of your crew and your ship.”

“You can do that? How do I even know you have that kind of power?”

“I’m connected, ya know? I can even tell you who tipped off the cops.”

“Prove it. Give me a name.”

“Does Ronald McEwen ring a bell?”

Declan swore. “I knew it. That bastard Scot!”

“Now, if you’ll just settle down, we have some work to do before the boss gets home. You need a bath and a shave. Then we need to do something about those clothes—she said no cowboys. That duster and those boots reek of OK Corral…and whiskey, Samureen Black, unless I miss my guess.”

Still trying to get his bearings and figure out if he stood a chance at making a run for it, Declan stalled. “Who the hell are you, and how do you know so much?”

“Never mind. Start stripping.”

Declan folded his arms over his bare chest. “Won’t she be just a little upset that I’m not the person she’s expecting?”

“She won’t ever know.”

Declan raised an eyebrow. “Is this
friend
a paid companion, then?”