Programmed To Please (The Tau Cetus Chronicles)

by Jenna Ives

  Once inside her, however, he stilled.

  Jai was smart enough to try to work this opportunity for all it was worth. “What do I feel like, Marque?”

  He rocked his hips slowly, pushing her deeper into the mattress. “You feel… fucking amazing. Just like the real thing. You’re so damned tight around me, almost like a real virgin. It makes me want to fuck you until I lose all control and shoot myself inside you.”

  His blunt words sent a tingle of excitement through her. She lifted her head from the mattress to look into his eyes. “Do it,” she urged. “Fuck me, Marque.”

  His passion-fueled gaze cleared for the briefest instant. “Close your eyes. Don’t talk.”

  So. He was treating her like the robot he thought she was. So much for establishing a relationship. Disappointed, Jai let her head fall back onto the mattress and she obediently shut her eyes. She struggled to keep still as Marque began to move inside her fast and hard, but when he slid his hands beneath her butt to tilt her up for a better angle of penetration, she couldn’t stop her gasp of pleasure. Luckily, Marque’s own cry was louder.

  He buried his head in her shoulder and plunged deeper, faster, harder. Jai’s hands clutched the bed cover and she clamped her mouth closed against any stray sounds. Dear God, his cock was perfect, and the hot friction he was building inside her was driving her crazy. He’d better come soon, or she would, and ruin the whole robotic illusion. Hadn’t Carron’s staff considered this before they gave her that damned pill?

  In desperation, she wrapped her legs around Marque’s waist to pull him deeper inside her. With a rough shout, his body tensed, and then jerked convulsively. His hot seed flooded her, and then his full body weight collapsed on top of her.

  His hot breath tickled her shoulder for a long minute before he managed to speak. “That… was… fucking… amazing.”

  Good for him, maybe, but she could barely breathe with all 180 pounds of him crushing her. “Mustn’t…damage…the merchandise.”

  Marque’s head lifted from her shoulder, and he stared curiously into her eyes. She pointed desperately to his body atop hers, and he seemed to get the message, because he let out another one of those rough laughs, then pulled out of her and rolled onto his back on the mattress. Throwing an arm over his eyes, he struggled to catch his breath while Jai inconspicuously tried to do the same.

  What happened now? Was Jai expected to speak, or just lie here silently waiting for Marque to say something?

  Close your eyes. Don’t talk.

  Jai considered what to do.

  Frankly, she was still amazed that he’d fucked her missionary-style. Plain vanilla. Why did he need to come to Beautiful Dolls just to get laid in some non-kinky way? There must be a million women who’d jump into his bed at the drop of a hat. Women were drawn to powerful men, even if those men had questionable business practices.

  But if Marque simply wanted to get laid in a generic way, this assignment might be bearable after all.

  “Is it possible to turn you off?”

  Jai turned her head on the mattress to look at Marque. The expression in his eyes was unreadable. “Turn me off?”

  “Yes. Can I shut you down?”

  “Why? Our hour is not yet up, Marque.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m done with you.”

  Jai struggled to keep her face neutral. Hadn’t she done her job? Hadn’t he just said the sex was fucking amazing?

  Was this assignment in jeopardy?

  “Didn’t I please you, Marque?”

  “Just answer the question.” His voice was rough now, and that frown was back between his brows. “Can I turn you off?”

  Jai thought fast. No one on her team had considered this possibility. “I…can put myself into hibernation mode, but only Mr. Carron can turn me off.”

  “Fine.” Marque sat up on the bed. “Put yourself in hibernation mode, then. I don’t want to look at you.”

  Jai sat up, too. She reminded herself that she was a Beautiful Doll, programmed to follow instructions. She gave Marque a confused look, then scooted down the bed, picked her sarong up off the floor, stood, and wrapped the garment around herself. Without a backward look, she went to sit in the hard-backed chair next to the bed, and then slowly closed her eyes.

  It was the closest thing to hibernation she could think of.

  She heard Marque climb out of the bed and slowly dress himself. The click of his shoes on the wood floor as he crossed the room echoed loudly in her ears. The sound of the door being flung open and hitting the wall behind it made her flinch.

  Jai held her breath, waiting, straining to hear what he might say to Carron, but Marque Callex apparently left Beautiful Dolls without a single word.

  Chapter Three

  Imbecile. Idiot.

  Marque paced in his concrete-reinforced office, cursing himself for a fool. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since his session at Beautiful Dolls. He’d barely slept last night, and he couldn’t seem to concentrate on work this morning. In fact, yesterday’s encounter was all he could think about.

  What a clever trap they’d laid for him!

  How do I feel? the Doll, J, had asked after he’d buried himself deep inside her. Not how does it feel or how does that feel, but how do I feel.

  She’d made things…personal.

  Beautiful Dolls owner Anson Carron didn’t want to addict him to sex. No. This was far more dangerous than that. This was addiction of another kind. A deeper kind. If Marque didn’t look too closely at the Doll, he could almost believe she was real. A real woman, with a perfect body. His ideal woman, in fact. Made to his exact specifications. Hell, only two minutes after he’d met her, he’d convinced himself the machine had a personality!

  If you cut me, I would leak. Synthetic XP201b.

  Marque had been stunned at her wryly humorous comment. But moments later, she’d followed it up with another zinger when he’d observed that her outfit was a tease.

  This garment is meant to tease you, Marque, she’d responded flirtatiously.

  What the hell was wrong with him? Her answers had been nothing more than simple statements of fact. He was the one who was interpreting them as wit.

  But the topper had been the incredible sex. No human being could feel that good. That snug around him, gripping him, squeezing him. Hell, his cock was as hard as a rock right now just from the memory of how amazing it had felt. And when her strong robot thighs had urged him even deeper inside her, dear God, he’d lost his control.

  Oh yes, this was dangerous indeed.

  Could it be that he’d responded to her so forcefully because he’d recently been celibate? How long had it been, anyway, since he’d had sex?

  He turned in his pacing, considering the question.

  Six months? No, that wasn’t possible. Could it really be half a year since he’d put aside Syretha and her unreasonable demands on his time?

  He’d survived just fine since then, thank you very much. But God Almighty, J was infinitely better than any masturbation he’d indulged in.

  And her post-coital joke yesterday about his body weight on top of her ‘damaging the merchandise’ was just another example of –

  Stop it, Marque! It was not a joke. What the hell is wrong with you?

  He shoved a hand through his hair.

  Right. Exactly. What the hell was wrong with him that the one image he couldn’t seem to shake was the vulnerable confusion on J’s face when he’d ordered her into hibernation mode?

  I’m done with you… I don’t want to look at you.

  He’d almost describe the look in her eyes as...hurt.

  Fuck.

  He could see how Anson Carron made his money from addicting people to his extraordinary, astonishing machines.

  But Marque Callex was no ordinary man. He would not fall into Carron’s trap. He was not going back to Beautiful Dolls.

  Unless…

  He slowed in his pacing, considering.

  Unless it was to
prove a point.

  A firm knock on his door stopped his pacing in its tracks. He looked around, as if momentarily surprised at his surroundings.

  Damn. She’s done it again. He was thinking about the Doll, not about the pile of paperwork needing his urgent attention. The pile which even now leaned dangerously to one side, ready to spill over onto his polished, hand-crafted mahogany desk.

  Knock.

  Marque glanced at his door and scowled fiercely.

  No one was allowed to bother him when his door was closed. No one. Not even his long-time, trusted assistant, Talesin. It was Marque’s most sacred, unbreakable rule. A rule known to every one of his employees.

  It was the only time Marque could have some peace.

  And not even now, with that damned Doll invading my every thought.

  The knock sounded again, louder this time, and to Marque’s utter astonishment, the door eased slowly open.

  Who in the hell would have the balls to—

  “Marque? You okay?”

  Chavis Smith’s face peeked around the wooden door. He obviously saw the outraged expression on Marque’s face, but nonetheless took a step into the room.

  Employees had been fired for far less.

  One of Chavis’s blond eyebrows rose in question. “Bad mood?”

  The remark was idiotic, but the man was not. He was searching for information. In the decade since he’d founded Callex Industries, Marque had a routine that he’d stuck to like clockwork. Personal gym at 5 a.m. Breakfast at 7 a.m. Office at 8 a.m. Then work until the work was done, however long it took.

  “Where were you yesterday?” Smith asked, not so casually.

  Marque scowled. If not for Chavis’s position here and his personal claim on Marque… “I

  went out to lunch.”

  “You never go out to lunch.”

  “I’m making an exception this week.”

  The information seemed to take Chavis aback. “Every day this week? Where exactly are

  you going?”

  “None of your damned business.”

  Chavis eyed him suspiciously, and Marque couldn’t blame him. Security was everything

  in their line of work. And for Marque not to give Chavis a straight answer was a definite red flag.

  Why did he feel loath to tell Chavis about Beautiful Dolls? Was he embarrassed? Did he think Chavis might want to join him? Did he irrationally want to keep J all for himself? Or was there something else…

  This dance of distrust between them went both ways, after all.

  Marque’s mouth set into a hard line. “Just for the record, don’t believe for one minute that being married to my sister gives you the right to come into this office without an invitation. Is that clear?”

  Chavis held up his hands defensively. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You missed the daily production meeting this morning.”

  Fuck. Marque glanced at his antique watch. 11:30 a.m. He’d never missed a production meeting. Ever.

  The Doll had done it again.

  He felt his face flush with anger. “Leave me.”

  This time, Chavis took the hint. With one last, assessing look, he turned on his heel and left the room.

  Marque strode to the open doorway. Sitting at the desk in Marque’s outer office, his assistant Talesin looked scared shitless, and rightfully so. He deserved Marque’s wrath for having let Chavis pass.

  But disciplining Talesin was at the bottom of Marque’s list of priorities right now. He had a situation he had to take care of. He scowled at his assistant. “Have Bursus bring the car around. Immediately.”

  #

  Would Marque Callex be back today?

  After Callex had left yesterday, Carron’s staff had stripped Jai of her silicone skin and contact lenses. What a relief it had been to shower away the telltale signs of her robot persona after that intense session!

  Less easy to get rid of, however, were her troubling reactions to the man.

  She’d found Marque Callex attractive. Gentle in his handling of her. Exciting as a lover, almost making her come. He’d even laughed at the things she’d said – laughter that had erased the deep frown etched between his eyebrows and transformed his entire face.

  He was definitely not the hardened sociopath she’d expected.

  Stop it, Jai! He’s not just any man, he’s the enemy!

  Right. Exactly. He was a potential threat to the world. The killer of Joran Breaux.

  She’d toweled herself dry with more force than was necessary.

  Once dressed, she and Wyatt and Carron had gone back to Commander Rainey’s office to report on Marque Callex’s first session. They tried to analyze and theorize and strategize, but none of them could come up with a reasonable explanation for why Callex had left early, or predict what the arms dealer would do today. Carron informed them that in the two-decade existence of Beautiful Dolls, no one had ever left a session early. No one. It was unheard of.

  Rainey had demanded to see the digital disc of the session, but Wyatt calmly informed him that he’d destroyed it, since Callex hadn’t mentioned anything about his arms dealings.

  Rainey had exploded at the news, but Wyatt had sent Jai a look that said I’ve got your back, partner. Wyatt was a good man.

  Carron had even called Marque’s office, but there’d been no response to the message he’d left about a possible return visit.

  So, to be safe, Carron’s staff had primped and prepped Jai again today in case Callex did decide to return. And like yesterday, the worst part of the ordeal was the enema lubricant they’d given her on the chance Callex demanded anal sex. Like yesterday, Marque was highly unlikely to indulge in foreplay with a machine, so Jai had to be ready for anything.

  But after hours at the hands of Carron’s minions this morning, the question still remained: would Marque Callex come?

  So now Jai sat in the hard wooden chair in her Beautiful Dolls boudoir room, dressed in her sheer sarong and starbust contact lenses, and stared at the readout on the wall.

  12:27. Three minutes until the appointed time.

  If Marque Callex failed to show, she would be rid of this onerous assignment. The fate of the world would no longer rest on her shoulders. That would be a relief, right? She should be praying he wouldn’t come.

  After all, there was only the merest chance this plan could succeed. Why on earth would one of the planet’s most powerful men confide his secrets to a machine, anyway?

  This may be our best chance of getting to Callex, Rainey had insisted. Build a relationship with him, gain his trust.

  Damn. Jai had purposely held back during sex with Marque yesterday, wanting to keep her moans of pleasure to use as a trump card once they’d gotten to know each other a bit. To convince Callex he was so skilled a lover he could make even a machine feel pleasure. Now that would certainly create a powerful bond between them!

  But maybe it had been a mistake to remain silent. Maybe she’d blown her only opportunity to ensure his continuing interest in her. Maybe this mission would fail because of her gamble.

  She bit her lip, and her eyes strayed again to the wall. 12:35.

  Marque Callex obviously wasn’t coming.

  Jai blew out a breath, but she wasn’t sure if it was relief or regret. She would never see Marque Callex again. An image of him, naked, appeared unbidden before her eyes. His cool grey eyes blazing with hot passion as he looked at her. The dramatic contrast of black hair against his white skin. The long, lithe body that spoke of hours spent working out in a gym.

  The amazing sex they’d shared.

  It had been amazing, hadn’t it? He’d said so himself. So then why had he run out without a word?

  Jai swallowed. How long should she remain in this chair? Probably until Wyatt came to tell her they were sure Marque Callex wouldn’t show. Maybe the arms dealer had finally called?

  She drummed her fingers on the armrest. Odd. She was more nervous today than even yesterday. Where was Wyatt? What
the hell was the holdup? Hadn’t all their research shown that Callex ran his life by the clock?

  It was over now. He definitely wasn’t coming. The time read 12:40.

  Screw this. She was halfway out of her chair when she heard the noise. Or, rather, a commotion in the outer reception area.

  She sat back down with a thump, her knees suddenly weak. Was she wrong? Had Callex come after all? Her heart rate sped up; her breath came in short pants. She mentally grasped for her yoga mantra. I am relaxed. I am…relaxed. I…am…relaxed.

  Positioning herself as motionless as possible on the chair, she closed her eyes. And waited.

  Not for long. The door opened and shut. Rushed footsteps crossed the floor.

  “Hello, J.”

  She slowly opened her eyes and looked up, then wished she hadn’t. Marque Callex stood before her, but he was obviously in a foul mood. His mouth was set in a hard line, and his grey eyes were stormy. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his shoulders seemed even broader than yesterday. Menacing, somehow.

  “Hello, Marque,” she answered, with as much calm as she could muster.

  “Stand up.”

  She stood slowly.

  “Now strip.”

  Her brain scrambled for something to deflate his obvious temper. “Would you like to talk for a minute first?”

  “I want you to take off that thing you’re wearing. Strip.”

  Completely gone was the gentle, curious tone of yesterday. Dread settled in Jai’s stomach, but she obediently reached up to undo the knot at the back of her neck. She let the garment slip to the floor, and stood naked before him. Marque quickly divested himself of his jacket, tie and shirt.

  Naked to the waist, he took the briefest moment to look her over, and Jai was relieved to see his eyes lose some of their hard edge. He reached out with his right hand and began to explore her body, like a blind man feeling his way.

  His fingers caressed her cheek, ran slowly down the side of her neck, drifted across her collarbone and shoulder, and then trailed across her chest. His palm paused to cup her left breast. She fit him perfectly, as if she’d been made for his hand.