Dirty Lies

by Emmy Chandler

  Yelena wants to play a game.

  She has no idea that she’s about to lose.

  I lead her to the chair behind the desk, and when she sits, I move behind her. While I kiss my way down her neck, triggering an exaggerated series of moans from her, I gently pull her arms back. Then I tie the sash around them, just tight enough to pinch. To make her feel as if she’s actually restrained.

  Which just happens to be true.

  The back of the desk chair gets wider toward the top, and she’ll never be able to lift her bound arms over it.

  With her tied in place, I grab her underwear and shove the material into her mouth, which she accepts because I’m giving her a playful smile as I run my free hand down her arm.

  As I back away from the chair, I give her another sexy grin and make a shushing gesture with one finger over my lips. She nods, her chest rising and falling rapidly with excitement. Then I pick up a heavy, round knickknack from the desk and sneak across the room, my shoes silent on the floor.

  By the time Yelena realizes what I’m about to do and starts making distressed noises behind her underwear gag, I’m just feet from the guards. They turn, and I swing at the one on the left. The glass ball smashes into his temple, and he goes down in a lump on the floor.

  The other guard blinks for a second, stunned, and he tries to lift his rifle. But that’s too big a gun for such close quarters. I slam my hand down on top of the barrel, preventing him from raising it, and he’s too busy trying to overpower my left arm to notice my right one as it flies toward his head. The glass ball hits him in that same spot, and he goes down next to his coworker, one arm splayed across the other guard’s chest.

  They look pretty damn cozy, as if they cuddled until they fell asleep on the floor.

  Yelena makes high-pitched, desperate sounds behind her gag as I step over the unconscious bodies. I consider the rifles, but like all the guns on Rhodon, they’re probably programmed to recognize only authorized users’ fingerprints.

  As I slide the door open, I give Yelena another shush signal, and she grunts frantically, her eyes wide. Then I close the door between us and take off deeper into the blimp, in search of the mechanical room.

  This ship is about to go down.

  The Prison Planet Series

  By Emmy Chandler

  Guardian

  Hunter

  Champion

  Dirty Lies (novella)

  About Emmy

  Emmy Chandler likes tee-shirts and lattes. She firmly believes every woman deserves an armchair in front of the window, near an outlet close enough to charge an e-reader and power a mug warmer. Her perfect afternoon includes cold weather, thick blankets, warm soup, and a good book.

  Emmy has another career under another name.

  For more information about Emmy Chandler’s books…

  www.EmmyChandler.com