Into Her Fire (Fantasy Heights) (2 page)

This time, Nicole asked Lily to lube the tip, and their client hastily obeyed. As she did, Amanda felt a pang of sympathy. Lily’s hands shook, too.

“Now Lily, you grab onto the shaft to hold it steady,” Nicole directed.

Amanda, who had never yet used this style, improvised as best she could. She backed up and widened her stance, lowering herself slowly until she felt the cool, slick tip of the dildo press just behind her pussy. Adjusting, she moved back as gracefully as possible and then tilted her pelvis until the tip pressed between her cunt lips, poised to penetrate.

Lily leaned way back to watch between Amanda’s legs as she tightened her thigh muscles and let the tip disappear into her cunt.

“Here,” Nicole said. “If you want a better view, I have a different version you should try. I really like this one, personally.”

She patted Amanda’s hip to clear the way for yet another type Amanda had never tried. This one had a twenty-inch shaft and a pedestal base. Nicole made Lily lift her short, gauzy skirt and spread her knees wide. She placed the base between Lily’s legs. Once it felt stable, Lily closed her thighs around the shaft.

Amanda needed no direction this time. She turned around to be face-to-face with Lily, who smeared lube on the tip. Amanda closed in and found the tip was just about level with her pussy. All she had to do was raise one knee, rest her foot on the bench’s padding, and let Lily press the tip toward home.

She bent her knee and rolled her hips, helping the tip line up a little better. A glance toward Nicole yielded a small hand gesture, giving her the go-ahead to simulate a thrust or two. She lowered herself down two inches. Three. Before she reached four, Lily gave in to the temptation to touch. One hand rested on Amanda’s hip. The other reached up to cup a breast.

Amanda braced her own hands on the wall above and behind Lily’s head, and curled forward so that Lily didn’t have to stretch too far to draw a nipple into her mouth. Her client did it hesitantly, as if she wasn’t quite sure it was allowed. Obviously, Amanda wasn’t the only one who had noticed Nicole’s on-again, off-again distraction.

Lily exerted herself as the client, taking firmer hold of Amanda’s breast, tonguing her nipple. With her other hand Lily guided Amanda to ride the shaft, pushing her down farther onto it then guiding her back up. Pleasure from cunt and breast compressed into a dulcet thread, tightening with promise once Lily gave her nipple a hard, piercing suck. The older woman then released it to lean back again and simply watch the black latex shaft sink into and reappear from Amanda’s pussy.

“I like this one,” Lily said. “But I think I want to try the strapless version without the teaser. I think it’s more what the guys had in mind for us.”

Guys? Did that mean Derek and Brandon, or someone else? Intrigued, Amanda wished she’d been given a script. No one had bothered since she and Josh had such a minor part in the fantasy.

Nicole smiled. “Of course. And if that’s what you want, then let’s move things along. They should be just about ready for you at the spa. I’ll see you again after you’ve had your massage and dinner, and a little time to relax.”

Lily seemed reluctant to end the show. The hand on Amanda’s hip guided her to grind. She obliged, wishing she could slip a hand down the front of Lily’s blouse to find and pinch a nipple. Send some sort of signal that she was willing to continue if Lily so desired.

She ought to have known better. Half the battle with clients was manipulating their appetites. Since this demonstration had been just as much about anticipation as instruction, the show had to stop short. Before she knew it, Amanda was guided off the shaft. Nicole spirited Lily away.

Staring at the closed door, Amanda wished she knew Eric well enough to carry out Thomas’s pressure valve policy. As it was, she retrieved her robe and panties and headed out the back door into the service corridor, and across the hall into a staff greenroom. There, she hit the shower to wash away the lube. She rejoined Eric in the hallway.

“You mind hanging out alone for a while?” Eric asked. “Auditions for the gamer gig start today. I want to get in early.”

At first, Amanda was surprised he’d allow her to go anywhere on her own, but then she realized it was a show of trust. He didn’t worry about her speaking to anyone about Thomas. Really, there was no need. The only things she had to say about Thomas she planned to say directly to Thomas. Shout them at him, in fact, as soon as she saw him again. If the first words out of his mouth were anything other than “I’m sorry I threatened you about Josh,” there would be war.

She could forgive a lot of things. But not that threat.

The showdown would have to wait until after they’d finished with their client later in the week. She likely wouldn’t see him until then. Thomas had been gone the last two days seeing the Warnouses’ son back to his aunt. The only comfort to come from the whole debacle was the revelation that Gail and Robert didn’t have permanent custody. The boy had been on summer visitation only and was, by now, safely back in the hands of his legal guardian.

Not for the first time since it happened, Amanda relived that unforgettable moment in her driveway. Gail Warnous had cornered her, raving, wanting help to get onto the resort, demanding to know how Steph had gotten Robert to sing again. The look on that poor kid’s face… He had been so ashamed of his mother’s behavior. It hurt Amanda even to think of it, and couldn’t imagine how the boy must feel with his mother locked up in a psychiatric unit, and his father hidden from the world. According to Jerod, Robert remained sequestered in a guest cabin somewhere on the property under the care of Dr. Carpenter.

Amanda told Eric, “Go ahead. I wanted to check in with Jerod anyhow. See if maybe your new boss has learned anything more about the Whisperer.”

A muscle in Eric’s cheek twitched, making Amanda regret her choice of excuse. Eric felt terribly guilty about what happened on the staff fantasy set. She said, “Quit it, Eric. No one blames you, and I’m pretty sure the timing wasn’t a coincidence. This whole place was upside down with the old security chief getting fired. Gail and the Whisperer took advantage of the turmoil.”

“More like the old chief got wind he was getting the axe, and held the door for them.”

Amanda hoped that wasn’t true, though she feared he might be right. This wasn’t the first time Eric had implied the powers-that-be had waited far too long to rid themselves of the old security chief, Andrew West.

Never one to grind salt into a wound, Amanda asked about the auditions. “Are you trying out for something, or just watching?”

“Both. You have to see the whole thing play out to understand why it’s such a spectacle. These gamers and developers get together every year to simulate video game battles. Staff is the enemy. Clients are the good guys. Fun as hell, and it’s a huge moneymaker. Almost as big as the Three Sisters Ball.”

Eric had talked a lot about both events these last couple days. The gamer thing sounded fun, but Amanda was more interested in the ball. It was an annual event coming up very soon. All the owners and the Accord would be on hand along with highest-tier clients. Last year they had raised seven figures for a veteran’s charity.

Eric, on the other hand, was more drawn to a good fight. “Ben and Thomas are the only shoe-ins. Everyone else has to audition to fill a fighter class. We’ve gotten so good that the gamers train all year trying to beat us. And actually, hey. Have you ever worn opaque lenses, those contacts that cover your whole eye? Has Kara ever made you try them on?”

“No, thank God. That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“Don’t hate. If you could wear them, you’d make a great princess for us to kidnap.”

“Screw princess. I’d want to play sniper class.”

Eric threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, man, you should audition once your restriction’s lifted. Ben’ll be using the center sound stage over in Meridian Place all week for tryouts. Today, even if you can’t talk to anybody yet, you could still watch from an observation booth.”

Yeah, and hold her nose to the glass and pretend she wasn’t infectious. “Nah, it sounds fun, but I think I’d better wait until the ink is dry on my contract.”

“Stop worrying about the Accord. Everything’s fine, so far. It just takes time for everyone to get here. They’ve got lives and jobs that have nothing to do with this place.”

“Thus ensuring they’ll be in a real great mood by the time they’ve uprooted themselves, blown off their families and schedules to review some random low-grade performer’s contract.”

“Low-grade? Everyone knows you’re a headliner waiting to happen. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Eric sounded certain, but Amanda had nothing like his confidence. Future headliner or not, she knew something about Fantasy Heights that could be used against its owners and the Accord. If she were in their position, she’d be looking to settle a non-disclosure agreement, not bind herself to a liability.

Eric ended the short, disgruntled silence by reminding her to text him the moment she was finished with her mystery client.

He struck off on his own and, free for the first time in two whole days, Amanda headed straight for her captor. The security offices were tucked alongside the main parking lot in a long, low building that looked more like a pool house than a technical nerve center. Inside, it was cool and quiet. No one would ever think, seeing the lone officer manning a high-tech monitoring station, that the place had been in complete uproar only a couple days prior.

Her eyes swept the monitors facing her direction. Security was handicapped by the resort’s ban on cameras or any other type of recording equipment. They were limited to infrared imaging, motion detectors and manual devices like panic buttons to alert them to trouble. Clients weren’t even allowed their phones on the premises if the devices contained a camera. Nearly an entire wall off to her left was lined with locked deposit boxes for valuables and phones.

The desk officer looked up at her and gave a quick smile of recognition. “Good evening, Miss Tate. What can I do for you?”

Amanda felt rotten. She didn’t know the officer’s name. “I was hoping I could see Jer… Mr. Hughes. Is he in?”

The officer’s expression changed. Suddenly he looked awkward, unnatural, like a brick wall attempting to smile. “He’s in a meeting with Ms. Watson.”

Steph. Unsure why a meeting between an owner and the security chief would inspire so much discomfort, Amanda scraped through a stilted, courteous thanks and left the office.

With not much else to do, she decided to spy on the auditions. She made her way to Meridian Place, the vast, sprawling structure that contained all the sound stages, including the throne room set. Also the much smaller Moroccan room, which she preferred not to think about just then.

Finding the right spot, she slipped into one of many observation booths ringing the bare soundstage and was immediately glad she’d come. Standing in the middle of the space, shirtless and gorgeous, was the blond-haired, blue-eyed Ben. He held a sword nearly as long as his legs in one hand, tip resting on the ground while he stood watching something else.

It took Amanda a beat or two to recognize what was happening, and once she did, she darted forward to slap the button on a sound-dampened wall to open the intercom.

Derek and Ridley stood nose to nose at center stage, eyes aflame. If they were acting out a screaming match, they were doing a great job.

And then she figured out what Derek was yelling. “…get sucked into that cult.”

“So provincial. It’s not a cult. DriveRate is a self-actualization program, not that you’d understand the difference.”

“Yes. I’m too stupid to know the difference between wise men and con men. And that’s not even the point, Ridley. The point is, you’re not in charge of this place. You had no right to report us.”

Ridley with her trademark curls pulled back into an artful ponytail, put her hands on her hips. “I had every right. I had a client in the booth who paid good money to watch your client’s fantasy on that interrogation set, and you guys went completely off script because you just couldn’t wait to fuck Thomas’s noob-let. If my client complains, I’m not taking the hit for it.”

“Oh, my God, you are such a bitch,” Derek snarled. “I can’t decide if you’re really that jealous of the noob-let, or if you’re just obsessed with your precious Paramour Project.”

Ridley bristled. For a moment, Amanda feared the redheaded bombshell might actually hit Derek. DriveRate and the Paramour Project, whatever they might be, were definitely sore territory for Ridley.

Derek, of course, tromped all over the topics. “Well, let me tell you something, honey. No amount of self-actualization or cult worship can help. You will never be a Paramour. They will never select you, and do you know why? ’Cuz you don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself.”

Amanda expected an explosion but Ridley went the opposite direction. “Damn right, I don’t, and why should I? Goals and strategy will get me a hell of a lot farther in this life than sweetness and light, and I will not apologize for striving to be the best at my profession.”

“Well, congratulations. If you’re striving to be a soulless, parasitic bitch, you’ve succeeded beautifully.”

Explosion imminent. Nicole stepped up alongside Derek and tried to pull him away. Marla imposed herself between them and stiff-armed Ridley back a few steps.

The redhead turned to leave, firing a parting shot. “When I run this place, you’re the first one I’ll fire.”

Derek
made a narrow-eyed face at her retreating back and raised both hands, middle fingers extended.

Marla made him put his hands down, but it was Ben who did the talking.

“Cool it, man. I know she’s a bitch, but you supplied the ammunition. You did go off-script, and she was already touchy about the noob-let.”

Derek sneered at him and shook Nicole and Marla off.

Amanda frowned. There was nothing worse than an indefensible position. She and Derek had screwed up. They deserved to be reported, but to be reported by Ridley, the self-righteous cow, made it suck ten times worse. And wasn’t it fantastic to have a complaint filed against her, just in time for the Accord to review her security clearance.