Project Temptation

PROJECT TEMPTATION “The last thing I remember before my fantasy was a holographic helmet coming down over my head and soft music playing. When I opened my eyes, I was somewhere else—with the man of my dreams. And it didn’t take long for us to get it on. It looks like, feels like, real life—great sex without the guilt or fear of disease. I can’t wait to go back.” Fascinated, Rosemary thought, This is it! An hour a week with her dream lover. Then she could feel energized, sexual, and fully alive, with no strings attached and no risk involved—just pure, unadulterated pleasure and nurturing. Her heart thumped wildly at all the possibilities. At twelve-thirty p.m., she picked up the phone, her hands clammy and fingers shaking as she dialed the number for Virtual Fantasy, Inc she had found in the phone directory. “Yes, I’m Rosemary Holt. I…I’d like to make an appointment for a virtual fantasy.” The pleasant, professional voice at the other end of the line said, “Yes, Ms. Holt. We’ll need for you to come in for a consultation and format your scenario set-up. Then we’ll make an appointment for your virtual fantasy. How about tomorrow at noon?” “Great,” said Rosemary, thrilled she could go during her lunch hour. “I’ll be there.” Rosemary could think of nothing else the rest of the afternoon. A secret thrill snaked up her spine—an excitement deep in her core that she had almost lost touch with. The feeling of burnout and fatigue, the endless road of routine and loneliness in her life was about to come to an end. Thanks to Virtual Fantasy, Inc…

ALSO BY VELVET VEERS Companionship Inc. Book I: Cinder-un-rella Book II: Hearts Afire Book III: Double-Dare Claire Road Warriors Inc. Book I: Thunder’s Road Book II: Fat Boy’s Legend Book III: Harley’s Desire Virtual Reality Inc. Book I: Project Temptation Book II: Stake Out Book III: Virtual Hearts Club

VIRTUAL FANTASY INC. BOOK I:

PROJECT TEMPTATION BY VELVET VEERS

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

PROJECT TEMPTATION AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://WWW.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2003 by Debi McMartin & Vickie Wakely ISBN 1-59279-158-1 Cover Art © 2003 Trace Edward Zaber Rating: NC-17 Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

This goes out to my boys for dragging me along to the arcade so I could come up with this storyline. Also to my son and daughter-in-law who support me in all my pursuits.

PROJECT TEMPTATION

CHAPTER 1

The merciless clanging of the alarm clock jolted Rosemary Holt out of the perfect reverie. A man—tall, dark eyed, black-haired, his face all rough angles and fired with intensity, had appeared in her dream again. This time he’d materialized from the foggy murk of the night. Her body felt full of him, and she longed for the orgasm that he’d brought her so close to. They had made love, finally. She could still feel his smooth rhythm inside her, his glistening penis becoming one with her, melting into her being, all night on a carpet of grass in a wet field. Her backside felt sore from the pounding, and her heart ached for the consummation of what was a very vivid dream. “Mom, Mandy wet the bed again!” “Mom, I’m hungry!” Rosemary sighed and counted to three. Back to the real world, she said to herself. Three kids, one job, no husband…Ahhh, the glamour of the single life. 1

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The only romance she knew involved her ten allotted pages of an erotic romance novella each night before she fell asleep. Ten minutes was all the time she could afford for herself…hardly enough to develop a relationship with anyone of the opposite sex. Then there were the dreams—dreams that took her deeper and deeper into the white-hot core of her being, and were the only pleasure in the sexual realm that she could manage other than her current forays with autoeroticism in the bath. But that was more a mechanical release of built-up libido. Her dream warrior made her feel expanded, experiencing a level of intense physicality and relationship she’d never experienced but always yearned for in real life. Schlepping out of bed, Rosemary charged into the kitchen for the first phase of today’s juggling act. Actually, three-ring circus defined it more succinctly. After turning the stove on to make Jason’s oatmeal with one hand and punching the button of the coffee pot with the other, she swooped two bowls out of the cabinet and grabbed the milk from the refrigerator.” Mommy, Jason won’t stop kicking me!” Mandy screamed. “She kicked me first!” Rosemary sighed and counted to ten. “Kids, I need your help. We’ve got to work as a team to get up and going every morning. If you want to see Harry Potter this weekend, you have to cooperate.” Rosemary washed the dishes from the night before while the children ate. Mandy tried to help by bringing her bowl to the sink, sloshing the milk on Rosemary’s house slippers. Frustrated, Rosemary spoke harshly, “Mandy…” Mandy looked up at her with big, brown, tear-rimmed eyes. “I’m sorry, Momma. I didn’t mean to.” Her bottom lip quivered, portending a torrential downpour of tears. Taking a deep breath and counting to ten for the second time in as many minutes, Rosemary knelt down, wrapping Mandy in her arms. “It’s okay, baby. No harm done. I know you were only trying to help, 2

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just like I asked you to do. The shoes can be washed. Now you go get dressed so you won’t be late for the bus.” Taking the milk-saturated shoes to the laundry room, then cleaning up the mess, Rosemary supervised the rest of the troops so they’d be out the door and standing at the bus stop when the bus arrived. The first battle of the morning routine had been won. The next obstacle course to negotiate would be the drive to work on the four-lane interstate highway commonly known as the “parking lot.” One disabled car could immobilize the course for hours. Whatever the problem was today must be really bad because helicopters from the radio and television stations circled overhead like media vultures. The constant rubbernecking slowed everything down even more. Damn, late for work again. Since traffic was at a complete stop, Rosemary plugged her laptop computer into the cigarette lighter and an adapter into her cell phone, using it as a modem. As executive manager over the Package Out account at a computer networking company, she could get ahead of today’s workload by checking her e-mails. She normally received at least a hundred a day, just from other departments within her same company. Though she enjoyed working with programs and computers, she hated spending most of her time putting out fires, one after another. When she stamped one out, another would invariably pop up. Just like ash from a forest fire, you get it put out here and one spark started another fire over there—a never ending blaze just moving locations. That left very little time for the creative work she so loved. But right now, she had no choice but to keep the job she had. The exemplary pay plus generous benefits kept a roof over her head and food in her kids’ mouths. She could even feed the cat! An email popped up from Chad, her cad of an ex-husband who had done everything but change his identity to keep from paying child support. Rosemary sighed deeply and worked her neck exercises, 3

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listening to the groans and creaks as she popped her neck. He never saw the kids and acted like he didn’t care to see them. That hurt Rosemary more than anything—for her children. She often thought a flawed daddy was better than no daddy, but right now her children had no father. Her ex had once been a rising star in the computer world—until he tried his first snort of cocaine. Then all his ambitions had turned to ashes and dust, and the dirt was where he’d stayed, digging his hole deeper as the craving for the coke consumed his life. Out of jail now, he lived with a friend who eked out a meager living for both of their existences. So sad. Being both mother and father was hard, very hard—harder than anything she had ever done in her life. Though she enjoyed her children, loved them more than breathing, and wanted to give them everything she could of herself, it exacted a price—no love life. And it was her choice at this time—the best choice she knew how to make. If only he would exercise his visitation rights every other weekend, it would make the children so happy. Instead he seemed too busy doing nothing. And Rosemary was too busy trying to make a living to have a life. A good night’s sleep was as close as she could get to peace and sounded more romantic to her right now than a roomful of naked men. Well, almost. Her friends had tried to set her up with men. But she couldn’t manage it—no time. Ahhh, the traffic had started moving. She’d be late for her meeting, but better late than never. Pulling into the security tower and inserting her card in the appropriate slot, she mentally braced herself for the conference call that would be an inevitable part of the upcoming teleconference—and Jerk she knew would be on the other end of the phone line. Even though they both work for Technical Solutions and were suppose to be on the same team, no telling what lame-brained idea he’d try to sell the other 4

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departmental leaders without her being there to moderate. She needed to be there to keep him from jumping track and delivering promises their company could not fulfill. The problem was with the megacompany and the different roles they played within that infrastructure. They each had a job to do within different divisions, but sometimes they stepped on each other’s toes. Jerk could light her fire to smoking in no time flat. Though never having met him in person, she could tell he was one of those men who thought he knew it all, and if you so much as disagreed, he would let you have it, full barrels. He was always right, of course. What a prick. How she detested bragging fools—even if they were right most of the time. His problem, Rosemary conjectured, was that he hated women. He must have had a domineering mother. But psychoanalyzing him wouldn’t change him. She would just have to figure out a way to deal with him without allowing him to affect her. Rosemary had her finger on the pulse of her client’s needs and instinctively knew what they needed for running their companies at optimal efficiency. Jerk Head could argue all he wanted, but until he came up with some hard facts, she would not change her mind. She didn’t care if Jerk Head was the manager of all midwest operations solutions, his equipment kept failing, and damn it, she wanted answers. It cost their company big bucks in penalties every time their client’s company experienced an outage, a break down in communications resulting in a loss of files and information critical for optimal management of systems. And it had to stop. If allowed to continue, accounts would be lost as well as public confidence in their services. Both Rosemary and Jerk could lose their jobs. Rosemary slipped into the conference as quietly as possible, trying not to attract attention to her late entrance. She made her way to the only empty chair in the room, naturally in the back. The throng of men stared at her contemptuously as she squeezed behind their chairs surrounding the conference table. They were all here on time, no doubt, 5

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because their wives got their kids up and ready for school. Do I sound bitter? Rosemary plopped down in her chair, her notepad and pen poised in her lap. She doodled as the speaker rambled on about nothing, wasting her valuable time and everyone else’s. Something had to give. As much as she loved her children, she had no life and felt tired all the time. Maybe she needed a manicure, a pedicure, and a massage. She’d thought about therapy, but then decided she didn’t need it. For what? To make her feel better about something she had no control over? She didn’t know what could change right now. She didn’t feel angry anymore. She didn’t beat herself up for making bad choices. Independent and self-sufficient, Rosemary accepted her lot—and the loneliness that walked hand in hand with it. She longed for those rugged hands that reached out to her in her dream, enfolding her in the most sublime love she’d ever felt in her life. Jerk’s voice came through on the speaker. “Your servers are old and do not have enough memory, hence the source of all your breakdowns. You need new boxes. The old ones will just continue to crash.” Rosemary leaned forward, propping her elbows on the conference table, her voice loud as she stated, “No, you’re wrong. The customer does not need new hardware. Besides, we don’t have the budget for that. You need to figure out what is happening out in the field. Have you checked with an infrastructure specialist to see what is causing the problem?” Jerk attacked. “I just told you what was causing the problem. Weren’t you listening?” “I heard excuses, not solutions. Your team caused the outages, but can’t seem to fix them and you’re trying to pass the buck. I’m not accepting your buck,” Rosemary fought back, enraged. “You think so, do you, Ms. Holt?” Jerk Head answered, his tone full of condescension. “The truth is you sold the solution’s package to the client without incorporating anything in it to allow for future 6

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expansion. Now the programs have outgrown their antiquated boxes and I’m supposed to play God and raise them from the dead. As much as I’d like to accept the glory, I don’t think I’m God and I cannot exhume your out-of-date monsters from the crypts.” Rosemary fired back preemptively. “You could’ve fooled me. I need some hard facts from you about how to present an expansion package to clients. I need exact figures put together on the cost of the equipment and upgrades. Then maybe we can go back to the client and sell your bullshit, Mr. God.” She so wanted to go through the telephone lines all the way to Kansas City to strangle him. “You’ll have it.” * * * Already exhausted from a marathon morning from hell, she sorted through the interoffice mail delivered that morning. She slipped a crisp white sheet a paper out of the envelope and read the contents. —— Roses are cool. Violets are slick. Get on your knees. And suck my dick. Your Secret Admirer —— Rosemary sucked in her breath, fuming, then turned the page over, and even examined the envelope, hoping to find evidence of who was playing the porno poet. Unfortunately, there was no clue where the missive could have been sent from. She tucked it away in a drawer— obviously she was the victim of a cheap joke. Now she had work to do. Rosemary plugged in budget figures to cover the outage expenses. To see if she could make the account lucrative, she needed to do high number crunches to see the score. While she worked, Rosemary listened to the conversation in the 7

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next cubicle. Her two co-workers ate lunch every day and discussed their sex life like last night’s leftovers. Rosemary occasionally grabbed a scrap or two to savor. “I went to Virtual Fantasy, Inc. last night. Oh, my God. It was better than any sex I’ve ever had with a real man.” Rosemary’s ears perked up. This could be interesting. The other girl squealed. “Oh, tell me all about it. I want to hear every dirty detail.” “I chose my fantasy man from a computer line-up, then the technician formulated a scenario, as they call it. I stripped and massaged special oil into my skin and climbed into an outfit they call a sex body suit. A technician hooked me up to the electrode sensors all over the suit. The lotion and the sensors trigger erotic sensations so you can actually feel the action taking place. “The last thing I remember before my fantasy was a holographic helmet coming down over my head and soft music playing. When I opened my eyes, I was somewhere else—with the man of my dreams. And it didn’t take long for us to get it on. It looks like, feels like, real life—great sex without the guilt or fear of disease. I can’t wait to go back.” Fascinated, Rosemary thought, This is it! An hour a week with her dream lover. Then she could feel energized, sexual, and fully alive, with no strings attached and no risk involved—just pure, unadulterated pleasure and nurturing. Her heart thumped wildly at all the possibilities. At twelve-thirty p.m., she picked up the phone, her hands clammy and fingers shaking as she dialed the number for Virtual Fantasy, Inc she had found in the phone directory. “Yes, I’m Rosemary Holt. I…I’d like to make an appointment for a virtual fantasy.” The pleasant, professional voice at the other end of the line said, “Yes, Ms. Holt. We’ll need for you to come in for a consultation and format your scenario set-up. Then we’ll make an appointment for your virtual fantasy. How about tomorrow at noon?” 8

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“Great,” said Rosemary, thrilled she could go during her lunch hour. “I’ll be there.” Rosemary could think of nothing else the rest of the afternoon. A secret thrill snaked up her spine—an excitement deep in her core that she had almost lost touch with. The feeling of burnout and fatigue, the endless road of routine and loneliness in her life was about to come to an end. Thanks to Virtual Fantasy, Inc.

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CHAPTER 2

Cullen Blakely gazed out the ground floor window of his high-rise office building on the Square in Kansas City, Kansas. Multi-colored Christmas lights twinkled cheerfully from the bare trees, emitting a halo-like aura in the darkness, only serving to sink him deeper into his annual holiday funk. No matter how many people surrounded him, he felt the cold loneliness gnawing at his soul. It got worse with every passing year. Up until the past five years, Cullen had been perfectly happy with his freewheeling, date around, good-for-forty-eight-hours, nothing-tooserious-or-too-deep-for-Cullen mode of existence. Spirited, fun-loving, perpetually single—that was the name of his game. He made the rules and stuck to them. Only now they no longer served him. But he didn’t know how to climb out of his homemade muck, and he kept slogging through it, sinking deeper and deeper into the quicksand. Most of his college buddies had eventually settled down, married and had families. And they seemed truly, deeply happy. Oh, they’d 10

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meet him for a beer occasionally, joust about for an hour, slap him on the back and tease him about his wandering ways, look at their watches and head home. What had once been looks of envy, Cullen thought, had eventually turned to looks of pity, as if they were thinking, “What’s wrong with you, dude, can’t you grow up?” He didn’t know when the looks had started changing; he just knew that they had. That’s when something shifted inside of him to an uneasiness he hadn’t wanted to address. A steady girlfriend could snap him out of his doldrums temporarily, but this intensive Project Temptation at work took all his spare time. He could find a girlfriend for the night, though—and pretend. His spirits soared and his groin heated—tonight he would prowl. His body needed release, soft and liquid, and right now almost any woman would do. * * * The rich, soul-stirring voice of B.B. King belted out from Cullen’s favorite blues club, Grand Emporium in Westport, beckoning as he walked through the door. It’s going to be tough to pick up a woman here tonight, Cullen thought, scanning the room to get an idea of the ratio of men to women. His quick calculations gave it about one to three, women’s favor. Usually women seemed to like his rugged good looks. He’d thought the jagged scar jutting across his cheekbone, stopping abruptly at the crest of his eyebrow would turn them off, but it only seemed to make them want him more. One woman had told him once it made him look dangerous and that aroused her. His motto, “Whatever Works,” usually it took all of five minutes before the women began to circle in, their pheromones charging the atmosphere with sexual heat. Hopefully, his luck would hold tonight. Finding a perfect vantage point at the corner of the bar to scan the room, he ordered a Jack and Coke. People packed the dance floor like squirming sardines, the lights faded low for one of B.B.’s haunting melodies. 11

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He turned to take a slug of his drink; a warm soft body slithered over his backside like a snake, taking up residence in the empty seat beside him. His senses sprang to life like a predator in the jungle, blood coursed through him, engorging his penis in anticipation of the night to come. Cullen couldn’t see her face though he smelled the seductive perfume, her female essence—and he wanted her before he ever laid eyes on her. His lids closed for one quick second to give thanks to the luck gods and he whispered, “Let her be fine.” A sultry voice spoke to the bartender, “A chardonnay, please.” Cullen’s penis throbbed at the sound of her voice and pressed tightly against his pants, pleading for action. It had been much, much too long since his manhood had tasted the soft, sweet flesh of a woman, especially a woman whose voice sounded like liquid velvet. Cullen turned his head and thanked the luck gods anew. Jackpot! An olive-skinned redhead stared at him intently with searing green eyes that burned straight to his now throbbing dick. She wore a black spandex dress that revealed luminous, luscious breasts the size of cantaloupes. He admired her fleshy curves and voluptuous figure. Cullen liked the look and feel of flesh under his hands, and his fingers tingled at the thought. Protruding ribs and clanging bones had never been his idea of sexy. If he wanted a skeleton, he’d visit the cemetery. He leaned on the bar with his arm, drink in hand, shifting slightly toward her. The damn opening line had to come next—the hook. Man, I hate this. The silence loomed longer between them, all communication nonverbal, and it only intensified the crackling electric current in the air. Maybe this time he didn’t need a line. The chemistry was palpable and he went for it. “Hi. I’m Cullen.” She kept staring at him, taking a drag off her cigarette and blowing a smoke loop that seemed to go on forever, heightening the suspense. Would she or wouldn’t she? He wanted a fuck, and he wanted it hard 12

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and long, leaving his pain and confusion far behind. He could feel his eyes burn into hers, as hot as the ashes at the end of the cigarette she snuffed out. “Brandy,” the goddess finally answered. “You want a brandy?” Cullen asked, motioning to the bartender. She threw her head back, emitting a deep, throaty laugh and revealed a row of splendid white teeth, a gleaming contrast against her Mediterranean skin. “No, my name is Brandy.” His voice came out gravelly and rough, no doubt from the heightened levels of testosterone that coursed through his veins as he stared at her. “Would you like another drink, Brandy?” She stared at him hard, her eyes devouring every inch of his body. “Yes, I’ll have another chardonnay.” The electric silence strung between them again. She spoke first this time. “So what got you into the blues?” Cullen didn’t have to think about that one. “My mother always liked it and I guess it infected me. We have family in New Orleans and I got hooked.” He moved in closer, feeling the heat from her body next to his. Silence. Damn awkward. Had it been so long I’ve forgotten how to play the game? “I like it more at Christmas…kinda takes the edge off the loneliness,” Brandy said. Sex always takes the edge of the loneliness, until it’s over. Silence again. Shit. Brandy edged in closer to him, her knee touching his, the rising inferno assaulting his senses. “Where do you work?” Whew. She’s interested. “At Technical Solutions. Close to Overland Park. And you?” “Macy’s. I am the national director of human resources. I’m filling 13

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positions for the new store here.” “So you’re not from Kansas City?” “I’m based out of Los Angeles.” This just got better. Out of town. No strings. Cullen stood up. “Would you like to dance?” Brandy smiled and stood up. “Sure.” Brandy came up to his neck, making her at least five-foot-eight. Cullen stood at six-foot-three, and most women rose only to his chest. Brandy saddled in right away, pressing her body in as close as she could get and still allow for movement. He liked the way she folded into his arms. Most women tried to talk to him on the dance floor, but Brandy seemed satisfied with the exhilarating sensations that passed between them as their bodies locked in place and moved to their own rhythms. His erection pressed hard between her thighs and he shifted slightly to angle it deeper in. It was a little test he created a long time ago. If she wasn’t a taker, she’d pull away. If she was hungry for it like he was, she’d rub back into his shaft. Brandy moved back against him without hesitation—bold and responsive. A woman who knew what she wanted. Affirmative. He leaned down, spearing her ear with his hot breath. The titillating effect worked. Her breath turned to pants and her heart pummeled against his chest. The music stopped and he placed his hand on the curve of her lower back, escorting her off the dance floor and back to their seats. “Would you like another glass of wine?” Cullen asked. “Yes, thanks.” He motioned to the bartender for another round. The conversation flowed for another hour. “Let’s dance again,” Cullen said. He led her out to the dance floor, her gait a bit unsteady. Obviously, three glasses of wine are her limit, he thought. One more and she might 14

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pass out on him. Brandy pressed herself into him this time with no prompting on his part. A slice of cake, Cullen thought, and so damn much fun. Forget the holidays; forget the funk. Tonight he felt alive. In spite of the fast music, Cullen drew her into his chest, her taut nipples searing into him like two heat-seeking missiles. He bent his knees slightly, fitting his erection perfectly between her thighs and rubbed against her mound with each beat of the music. Brandy moved forward against him, her breathing heavy, and her face hot against his cheek. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with lust. It must’ve been as long for her as it has been for me, thought Cullen. We’ll take care of that tonight. She’s mine. For two hours, at least. He leaned in for the kill, grazing her top lip with his tongue. When she moaned with delight, he took her mouth, hard and possessive, thrusting his tongue to aggressively explore her wet cave. He broke his mouth away, moving toward her ear, planting small wet kisses along the way—marking his territory. In a husky, lust-laden voice, Cullen asked, “Would you like to get out of here?” Nodding, she turned and walked back to the bar. Cullen paid the tab and followed Brandy out of the door. “You okay to drive”? he asked. “Yes. My rental’s parked one block down. Your place or mine?” “Whatever the lady prefereth.” “My hotel is a mile from here.” “Lead on.” Cullen hated that awkward moment before they got to the room. Two strangers, about to perform the most intimate, powerful act on the planet. He loved it. He hated it. Too much time to think. A part of him wanted to turn around and walk away. The lower half pushed him forward. Another meaningless sexual encounter. Another pseudorelationship. His heart grew cold. But his penis stayed hard. 15

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Once you actually get to the room, it’ll be easy enough, he assured himself. He needed this, his body needed it, and he could feel the lust waves wash over him, sending him back into the sea of passion. As soon as he stepped into Brandy’s room, his hormones took over. Laying his hand on the back of her neck, he gently tipped her face toward him. He could sense her hesitation. Too much damn time to think. He would remedy that very quickly. He could taste her desire, sense her vitality, and it electrified the dry heat that coursed between them, thick and hot with want and need. Cullen drew her close and kissed her passionately and deeply, pretending she was someone he’d known all his life, attempting to erase any discomfort. She melted back into his arms and he pulled her tighter, deepening the kiss. Assured that her breathing had heated up again, he loosened his grip and slid his hand around to caress her breast, squeezing and kneading those luscious mounds of flesh. Large, perky…and fake…damn. Drawing back, he unzipped her dress and slid her sleeve over her shoulder, and unhooked her bra. Her hands crept down and pulled his polo shirt out of his pants, unbuttoning it slowly and pulling it off. Brandy traced his serpent tattoo with a red-lacquered nail then ran her hands over his chest, raking her nails across his nipples. He sucked in a sharp breath as spikes of sensation raced down to his groin. Brandy giggled. He growled at her and she giggled more as he moved her backwards toward the bed, tugging her dress down to the floor as they scooted. He held her suspended in front of the bed, only her panties left to bare. He suspected she looked much like Aphrodite would in the flesh. “You have the body of a goddess, Brandy.” She giggled again. “Thank you.” Brandy plopped back on the bed, stretching her arms out to him in an invitation to join her. He peeled off the remainder of his clothes and slid in beside her. Her hawk-like eyes skewered him, like a bird of prey 16

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honing in on its next meal. “You’ve got a nice body, too, for an old guy.” “Whoa…that hurt.” She plopped up on her elbow and smiled, “Take it as a compliment. I’ve always preferred older men.” He hooked a finger under her panties and pulled them down her legs, slowly and sensuously. In a low tenor, he began singing. “This old man, he plays one, he plays knick knack on your tum, with a knick knack patty whack, give the dog a bone, this old man came rolling home.” Cullen rolled over on her, kissing her again and cupping a perfect breast in his hand, tweaking the nipple between his fingers. She arched her chest into his hands and he squeezed harder. Breaking the kiss, he moved down to suck the other nipple taut. He spread her legs with his knee for easy access. His penis throbbed for entry, but he wanted them both to enjoy this. He moved one hand lower down her belly and into her opening. When he found her clit, Brandy moaned in delight, jumping so high she nearly fell off the bed. Ah, one of the ultra-sensitive ones. He was going to love this. He rose up on his knees over her so he could spread her labia. He loved the look of a woman’s vagina. It was a beautiful creation— especially when it was wet, hot and throbbing, like hers was now. He stroked the already swollen hard, pink vulva, then brought his head down, flicking the exposed, isolated clitoris with his tongue, concentrating on the sweet bud at the tip. She writhed under him, jerking her head back and forth, making loud, moaning noises. Brandy grabbed his penis with her hand and pulled it toward her vagina. “Please, put it in me. I can’t take it any more. Put it in, Cullen. Now. Oh, please.” “One minute,” he said, continuing to stroke her with one hand while he opened the condom packet with the other, using his teeth to tear it open. She placed her hand over his, guiding him in his strokes. He slid 17

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his hand out, and watched her stroke herself. He rolled the condom onto his shaft in one deft movement. Quick and efficient. Practice makes perfect. “Now I’m ready, Brandy girl. Are you ready?” “Oh, yes,” she gasped, spreading her labia wide for him again. “I can’t wait another minute.” He climbed between her legs, slowly pushing his penis into her tight, slick heat. Oh, wow, he thought, moving into the rhythm of her thrusts as her legs twined around his waist. She bucked with the energy of a bronco in heat, taking the lead and setting the tempo. At this pace, he couldn’t last very long. As soon as he felt her muscles tighten around him and the sounds of her own impending orgasm, he let loose with his own. His penis jerked spastically, spilling the hot liquid into the tip of the condom. The tension that had held his muscles in bondage for months eased out of his body in rivulets. Man, that felt good. When the last spasm ebbed, and his dick satiated, all he wanted to do was leave. Brandy, already spent and asleep next to him, her legs twined around his, felt like the total stranger she was. Cullen felt empty inside, even with the musky smell of their sex still hovering in the air. The ride home seemed to take forever. His depression sank its claws in even deeper. But he came to one conclusion. The way he’d been living no longer served him. No more one night stands even if he had to spend the rest of his life celibate.

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CHAPTER 3

Sam Morris, office manager of Virtual Fantasy, Inc., sat at his desk, poring over the budget with a fine-toothed comb when his young technical guru walked into the office. “Sir, we loaded the fresh batch of pictures from the Kansas City office,” Frank Atkins confirmed. “Thanks. It’s about time they sent us some fresh faces,” Sam replied. “Are we going to have funds this year to computer generate the faces rather than use actual pictures of real people?” Frank asked, concern etching his face. Sam sighed. “No, it doesn’t look like we’re going to have the money to do that at this point in time. That software costs a fortune. We just don’t have the profit span for an initiative like that. I forecasted it in the budget last year, but what with the economy on the slide, headquarters tightened up funds.” “I understand that. But it’s the ethical dilemma that concerns me. 19

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I’m just afraid we’re going to get caught—and subsequently, get sued.” “I realize that is a possibility, albeit a remote one. We did advertise we use computer-generated images only, but when we found out our budget wouldn’t allow for the programs, we’d already paid for the flyers and ads. Too late to change without it costing us a fortune. We’re very careful to use only pictures of people from different parts of the country. The chances of any of our customers actually encountering anyone from the pictures are about one in twenty million. Trust me, we’ve run the stats.” “Still, I’ll sleep better when we get the comp-generated package.” “Next year.” * * * Rosemary sat in Virtual Fantasy, Inc.’s waiting room, filling out paperwork and trying to describe the fantasy she had in mind. Just the thought of writing it down on paper made her blush. Maybe she was a complete fool for doing this. “Rosemary Holt?” A perky woman stood at the door, dressed in a white lab coat and carrying what looked like a medical chart under her arm. The woman smiled at her and said, “I’m Sandra. I’ll be your scenario counselor while you’re here. Have you had time to finish with your medical history and scenario?” “Yes.” “Just follow me back to the automation room,” Sandra said. “Would you like something to drink?” “Bottled water, please, if you have it.” The room was pleasant enough, bathed in soft light and cushy chairs. A big screen covered one wall and a bed-like table was pushed against another. Sandra served the water and Rosemary sat with her papers, ready for the interview. Relieved that her counselor was female, she felt less self-conscious about sharing her fantasies. Never in her life had she discussed her sexual fantasies with anyone—not girlfriends, not 20

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husband, not one stranger. Could she do it? She had to, that’s why she was here. And Sandra was totally professional and exuded an air of confidence. Just relax, Rosemary, this is going to be the hardest part. “Before we talk about your scenario,” Sandra said, “I’d like to share with you our company’s philosophy. We don’t advocate pornographic material in any capacity. We use technology and the holographic potentials to create a scenario in which a person who does not have the ability or time to create a sexual experience in their ‘real’ lives can nonetheless experience one at Virtual Fantasy, Inc., complete with all the emotions and bodily sensations that one would have if they were living the event. We attempt to match your mental fantasy partner with a holographic partner. The equipment allows you to control the scenario.” “Wow. That’s fascinating.” Sandra continued, “We have computerized pictures from which you can choose your fantasy man. Our computer program will complete his physical 3-D hologram, and develop a scenario of your creation with all the sensory modes—sound, tactile sense, sight, and pressure.” “How does it work when I come for my appointment?” “We place you inside a full body suit and hook electrodes to all the power points, which are electrical points that correspond to acupressure points on your skin. These sensors activate areas at the appropriate times during the scenario, duplicating the exact sensation you’d feel in real life.” Rosemary laughed. “Sex without the hassle. I think I’m in heaven!” Sandra smiled. “You’ll be amazed. All the employees at Virtual Fantasy, Inc. are required to experience a scenario so we can adequately depict the experience to potential clients. It is amazing…and quite addictive, I might add.” Rosemary laughed before taking a swig of water. “I’ll probably get hooked on this.” 21

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Sandra replied, “We know how difficult it is in today’s world to find true love and deep companionship. Here at Virtual Fantasy, Inc. we take you to another plane, a safe environment, free of disease and distraction, with no potential for emotional aftershock. We feel like we’re meeting a social need and contributing to the well-being of all our clients.” Sandra held out her hands and Rosemary placed her paperwork into them. Sandra glanced at the report. “I see you have no health problems and you’re not on any medications except birth control. Is that correct?” “Yes.” “At this point we’ll let you pick out your fantasy man, then Frank will take your picture and load it into the program. I’ll do a complete work-up on your scenario and enter it into the computer. When you arrive for your next appointment, we’ll be ready. Just follow me.” Sandra motioned for her to sit down next to Frank, the program wizard. “Rosemary, meet Frank. He’ll help you find your fantasy man. Enjoy.” “Nice to meet you, Frank.” Without taking his eyes off the screen, Frank said, “Could you give me a description of your fantasy man?” “I’ve always been partial to dark-skinned, tall, black-haired men, men who are thin but have bulging muscles. Part-runner, part body builder.” Frank entered the information into the computer as fast as Rosemary could get the words out. Anticipation coursed through Rosemary. She anxiously sat on the edge of her seat as Frank pulled up full-bodied views of various men. The pictures looked amazingly life-like. But so far all the pictures looked like the stereotypical GQ men—perfectly trimmed coifs, gymhoned bodies dressed in Armani suits with smug, egocentric expressions. 22

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“Tell me when one of these images catches your eye,” Frank said, glancing over at Rosemary. She scrutinized the screen, looking for someone more rugged, beat up a little, with rebellious long hair down to his shoulders, maybe a couple of days’ worth of facial hair sprouting from his chin. Then she saw him. “Stop! That’s him!” exclaimed Rosemary. And there he was, staring out at her—tall, dark, muscular in a sinewy kind of way, his expression intense, imploring. The scar on his cheek made him look tough and dangerous. Shiny black hair touched his shoulders and he had more than a day’s growth of hair on his face. He sported a mustache with a goatee, neatly trimmed. A diamond earring sparkled in one ear; a serpent tattoo curled around a welldeveloped bicep. Rosemary’s heart caught in her throat. He’s perfect. “That’s him,” she said, barely able to get the words out. “Ahhh, yes, he’s one of our new images.” Frank clicked twice on the face of the man and a panel popped up. He entered Rosemary’s name and entry data. “I have all the information now that I need for your fantasy profile. Now let me take a few digital pictures of you. Stand right there on the X. Okay turn around slowly.” Frank sat the camera down and sank into his computer chair. “You can go ahead and make an appointment for your virtual fantasy.” Frank printed out a form for her to take to the receptionist. “Thank you, Frank.” “We’ll see you soon,” he answered, still typing information into her program. * * * Rosemary survived the chaotic evening—homework, baths, and school papers to be signed, along with two fights over what show to watch on television. By nine-thirty p.m., the house had grown quiet, the 23

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dishes were done, and Rosemary could breathe a sigh of relief. One blessed hour to call her own before she hit the sheets. Sweet thoughts of her fantasy man filtered through her mind as she poured herself a glass of cold white zinfandel. A frisson of scintillating desire coiled like a hot knot in her loins. Rosemary placed a piano solo CD on the stereo and started her bath water. She poured lavender bath gel into the tub and watched the cloud of bubbles form. She lit three scented candles and placed them around the rim of the tub. Lowering the lights, she peeled her dress over her head, studying herself in the full-length mirror. She lifted her breasts with her hands, enjoying the creamy texture of her own flesh. Not bad, she thought. A few curves never hurt anyone. Actually, in spite of the fact she didn’t fall into the emaciated category that everyone peering out from a newsstand magazine seemed to require, Rosemary liked her body. It was perky, fun and alive. She had no desire to be reed thin. She turned to the side—full breasts, flat stomach, curvy hips, and rounded, athletic calves. Yep, she would do. Turning down the lights, she slid under the foam of bubbles, listening to the soft sound as they popped around her. She laid her head back on the bath pillow at the end of the tub and thought about her fantasy man. Sliding her right hand between her legs, pretending it was his hand instead of hers, Rosemary found her clit with her finger and stroked it gently, causing the vulva that surrounded it to swell and harden. The steam from the water curled around her like smoke as she worked her fingers harder and faster. She slid down into the tub even further, rubbing her water-slicked breast with her free hand. Soon she felt the sweet release she had needed so desperately—a little warm-up for tomorrow’s appointment at Virtual Fantasy. * * * A lone figure stole through the dark, abandoned halls to the server room of Package Out, Inc. He could out-maneuver any roadblock 24

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Cullen’s men had thrown up to keep a hacker out of the mainframe. He wanted Technical Solutions out of his company. He would win this game. Cullen Blakely had buried himself when the contract was sold to Package Out. * * * Today was the day. Rosemary couldn’t concentrate on her work to be done. Lucky for her the morning routine consisted of housekeeping jobs only—returning departmental e-mails, sending informational faxes and following up on voice mail. And the best part—she did not have to talk to Jerk all day today. Having to deal with him would be enough to punch a hole in any woman’s fantasy. There had been no apparent outages the night before and the network seemed to be running smoothly. No customer complaints had been received on the hotline. Rosemary had to schedule a brainstorming session soon with senior executives over all the problems they have had lately with the Package Out account. The service excellence team would be coming in soon to confer with Rosemary and tell her if the customer made her red on the dashboard, indicating the customer’s unhappiness with Technical Solution’s service. She wanted this month’s exact stats of the client’s downtime from accounting to see how much money they would pay to Package Out. Every time Package Out’s vendor tracking system was rendered inoperable, it cost Rosemary’s company big bucks. They had a ninety percent performance level agreement, and so every time they breached their contract with Package Out, she drew closer to losing the account—as well as her job. Rosemary’s excitement grew as the hands on her desk clock rolled closer to high noon. She hadn’t been this excited since the first time she’d had sex. Remembering that special moment brought stabs of nostalgia to her heart and a new flame between her legs. Her high school boyfriend, Danny Tanner, and she had inched closer to consummating their relationship the longer they dated. 25

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Groping hands and rubbing body parts weren’t enough after two years. Rosemary’s stark terror of getting pregnant kept them from experiencing actual penetration for a long time. But then on a hot, summer night—a midnight picnic and a bottle of Asti Spimonte that Danny had splurged on to celebrate his acceptance to Harvard—melted both their wills. Under the clear, inky black sky and stars that seemed to twinkle at them, they succumbed to their passions. Contrary to the horror stories most girls had to tell, Danny was the sweetest, most tender first love/first sex that Rosemary could have experienced. He kissed her softly and deeply, their tongues tangling in an exotic dance. Alone in the velvety darkness, he peeled her pants down over her ankles, planting soft, wet kisses up her legs. Rosemary remembered looking up at the stars, her body feeling light as a feather and boneless, defying gravity. She could remember him spreading her legs, the gentle stroke of his fingers on her nub. How natural and sensitive he was with her, nimble as a pro with his tender, erotic touch. He knew her body and knew what she liked. Her hips bucked up when she felt his hot breath on her pussy. He spread her labia with his fingers and took his champagne glass, tipping it slightly so five drops landed on her clit, sending a thrill of pleasure through her body that she hadn’t known since. “To us,” he declared, and slid down to lick the droplets out of her vagina. The hot, wet tongue sent her body into spasms she couldn’t control. Her legs shook as his tongue explored her cave. Danny moaned and said, “Rosemary, you taste like heaven.” With long strokes, his tongue pressed harder. She’d felt every muscle in her body grow taut as a rope before she exploded, her consciousness rising right up to the stars—she was one with the universe, outside the limitations of her body—for one brief moment. When her spasms ended, she collapsed in his arms. He held her for a long time. “I have a condom,” he’d whispered in her ear. 26

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And Rosemary knew—tonight would be the special night—she would lose her virginity. She wanted it to be with Danny. He was so good, so kind, so gentle, and she wanted to feel his weight on her, feel his penis hard and deep inside her, filling her with pleasure, and she wanted to remember it every day for the rest of her life. She turned and kissed him. “Okay, Danny. I want my first time to be with you.” He undressed with anxiousness of the young and impatient. Rosemary peeled off her shirt as Danny rolled the condom over his shaft. Then he kneeled over her, probing for entry with his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he panted, slowly rubbing the tip of his penis over her entrance. When he found the orifice, he slowly entered her, a millimeter at a time. Rosemary’s muscles stretched over him like a warm, welcoming cloak, clamping over his cock in a wet reception. She tightened and released in her own natural rhythm, enjoying his red- hot skin burning next to hers in feverish delight. She wanted it to be as good for him as it was for her. Her hips drew up to meet him as he ground into her hard. She could feel the white hot searing of pain and pleasure deep inside— and she felt full—and complete. Their dance was in unison, they were complete and they were one. His breathing increased and she squeezed his buttocks as she felt his tremors. “Ahhhhhh…Rosemary, baby, I’m coming…this is so good…you are so good… Ohhhhh, God…” She felt him tense and shudder with his last hard thrust, as she washed over him in her own release. It felt different this time—her orgasm came from the back of her vagina—and sent a deep, rumbling pleasure coursing through her veins. Danny collapsed on top of her, his heart thudding wildly against Rosemary’s breasts. Then he showered her face with a hundred kisses. * * * Cullen met Kevin West, one of his operations managers, for lunch 27

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at the China Room, an oriental restaurant not far from his office. “How’re things going with Project Temptation?” Kevin asked. “Fine. But I tell you between Package Out server problems and that wicked witch, the exec over the account, I’m about stressed to the limit.” “Have you ever met her?” “No, just talked to her more than I’ve wanted to over the phone. I expect I know just exactly what she looks like. You know the type…suit buttoned up to her throat, chubby, pointy chin and warts on her nose. A real witch.” They laughed together and shoveled more food in their mouths. “I took your advice and tried Virtual Fantasy, Inc. I have to say, it’s everything you cracked it up to be and more,” Kevin said, dipping his fork into the heap of food in front of him. “It works for me. And it’s cheaper than a girlfriend.” Kevin laughed. “And cheaper than a divorce. I love Mary, but since the kids arrived, the sex department’s been pretty bland. Virtual Fantasy is the way to go. No adultery. No guilt. No mess.” “I haven’t been there in awhile. I think it’s probably time for me to go back,” Cullen admitted. “It’s like living the best wet dream of your life.” “Yeah, and it’s so real. Even the memories seem real. Oh, the wonders of modern technology.” Kevin knitted his brow. “I can understand it more for me, but for you—the stud, the man all the women are drooling over? You can have anybody, Cullen, in real flesh and blood. Why would you pay for a fantasy, a holographic woman? Man, if I were single like you, I’d just walk into a bar and pick up some good looking chick anytime I felt the urge.” “It isn’t what it’s cracked up to be,” Cullen admitted. “I’d trade places with you in a New York second. A wife, kids, house in the ’burbs, someone to keep me warm on a cold Kansas night…” 28

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Kevin laughed, taking a slug of his beer. “The grass is always greener and sweeter on the other side, man. You’d be content for all of about two weeks. Then you’re wandering instincts would kick in and you’d be out prowling again—that need for novelty and excitement taking over. I’ve still got some of that myself, which is why I’m going to Virtual Fantasy. But the part of me that wants family and stability wins out.” “I hear ya,” said Cullen. “I think there’s a point in time where all that excitement gets old and empty. I’ve never given the time of day to snot-nosed kids I pass on the street. Now I find myself rooted to the spot when I see a dad pitching to his kid. I envy him. I’m getting kind of old to start now though. I may have missed my opening.” Kevin took a drink and slapped Cullen on the back. “It’s never too late for anything. If you want it, go for it, bud.”

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CHAPTER 4

Entering the office of Virtual Fantasy, Inc., Rosemary signed in and nervously waited her turn. Reliving her first sexual experience for the first time in many years, had put her body on high alert, her senses acute, and her crotch in a state of prime readiness. She also thought about Danny and wondered what had happened to him. The last time she saw him was in New York. He had just made partner in a big, corporate law firm and was getting married within a month. Sandra opened the door to the reception room, chart in hand. She smiled. “Rosemary, are you ready?” “Yes,” was all Rosemary could muster. Sandra walked down the hall and escorted her to the Fantasy Room. “Here’s your sex body suit. You need to remove all your clothing, except for your panties, and rub this lotion all over your body. Put your suit on and come out to the booth where Frank will attach the electrode sensors to the proper points on the suit. Then we’ll put the helmet on and you’ll be off to Never-Never Land. Just like Peter Pan.” 30

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Rosemary peeled off her clothes down to her panties, spread the lotion on and wiggled into the body suit. She climbed up on the oversized bed in the middle of the floor and waited while Frank hooked her up. “All systems go,” said Frank. The room reminded her of the Enterprise in Star Trek—beeps, noises, and multi-colored lights. “Are you ready?” Frank asked. “Yes,” said Rosemary, feeling like she was about to be launched from Cape Kennedy instead of on a virtual fantasy. “We’ll count from ten backwards, just like NASA, and you’ll be off. Remember, you’re in control all the time.” The last thing she heard was a Chopin number playing through the earphones on the helmet. Chopin’s concerto changed quickly to the salsa beat of the “Macarena” as Rosemary opened her eyes to bright sunlight pouring down a sugary white sand beach. Rosemary walked along the water’s edge, relishing the sand and breeze, the warmth of the sun on her back as she squeezed the sand between her toes. She looked down and found herself attired in a bikini bathing suit— black with gold trim. She noticed admiring looks from the men who walked past her. She thought it looked like they were silently peeling her swimsuit off in their minds. She felt a rush of exhilaration at the idea her body could still be such a turn-on. It had been a long time since she’d felt the power of her sexuality. After browsing in some outdoor souvenir shops, she spotted a sign for Crocker’s Grill and Bar a few steps ahead. Good, she could stop and order a piòa colada, her favorite beach drink. Then she saw all the motorcycles parked outside and she really thought it was the perfect place to check out. She might even stay long enough for dinner. Walking through the beaded doorway into the dim interior, she scanned the room for a place to sit. Alas, no luck….standing room only. Boy, had she stumbled on the happening place. After her eyes 31

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adjusted to the low lights, she noticed everyone wore leather or swimming apparel in some form or other. Definitely the bikers’ hangout. Finally spotting an empty stool by the bar, she sat down and waited for the bartender to take her order. Maybe she should opt for something a little more daring than her traditional piòa colada. “I’ll have a Miller Light and a shot of tequila, please.” The bartender nodded. “Coming right up.” He came back, setting both drinks in front of her with a saltshaker and lemon wedge. “Bottoms up.” “Thanks.” She licked the back of her hand, poured salt over it, and then licked it off. She lifted the shot and threw back her head. The liquid heat felt like lava pouring down her throat, taking her breath away for a split second. She bit hard into her lemon, made a face and took a long swig of beer. She turned to the man beside her and smiled. Out of her peripheral vision she knew he’d been watching her the whole time. He licked his lips and looked at her with lust-filled eyes. “That was quite a performance. You’re good at that, as I’m sure you are with other things. Can I buy you another one?” Rosemary looked him over. Feeling reckless and ready to live life to the fullest, she smiled at him seductively. “Sure.” He waved the bartender over and ordered two rounds for each of them. “I have one tiny request.” Uh-oh. What have I gotten myself into? Here comes the big line. “I get to drink mine from between those beautiful tits of yours.” Rosemary looked down at the skimpy bathing suit top, suddenly self-conscious of her exposed body. She wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “Excuse me?” “Between your breasts…like Susie over there.” He nodded toward a girl sitting up on the bar with a shot glass resting between her breasts. Just then, a man leaned over and wrapped his lips around the shot glass, 32

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then threw his head back to drink the shot. Electric currents coursed through Rosemary as she watched the show in progress. Oh, yeah! “You can drink from my well anytime, darlin’,” said Susie to the man standing in front of her with the empty shot glass in his hand. Buzzing with excitement, Rosemary swung the barstool around to face the man beside her, placing the shot glass strategically in her cleavage. He leaned down and grabbed the glass with his lips and downed the liquid. She joined him with her shot. Another man stepped up. “Hey, I want to play, too.” “Sure.” She could feel warm blood heating her face like a furnace turned to high. She was sure the tequila helped. It did have a reputation for this sort of thing. The large crowd circled around her, both men and women. One of the men hoisted her onto the bar—just like Susie. Rosemary crossed her legs enticingly, setting off a big cheer from the testosterone-laden male bunch. By now her head spun and she laid off the tequila, opting only for the beer. Then the crowd parted and she saw him, walking toward her in a leather vest with no shirt, showing his serpent tattoo proudly on his forearm. His six-pack abs met her admiring gaze as he walked and the hair on his chest dovetailed straight into those tight blue jeans. The black chaps clung to his thick, muscular thighs, accentuating the prominent bulge in the front of his pants. Her gaze moved back up to his face—he epitomized animal magnetism. Now he stood before her in the flesh, ferocious intensity flashing through his eyes, burning his soul into the core of her being. Oh, my God. Though she never knew his name, had never laid eyes on him before this very minute, she knew him. Tall and muscular—at least sixfoot-three. Dark and dangerous. Ruggedly handsome in that deadly kind of way. A scar running from the corner of his eye to his cheek 33

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intensified the survivor façade. He had long, black hair and midnight black eyes that held more light than the day had ever seen. She named him Conan, after Conan the Barbarian. He nodded toward the bartender and slapped the money on the table. The other men had not touched her in any way, but Conan spread her knees and moved boldly between them. Running his hands on both sides of her outer thighs, he lifted her bathing suit sarong with one hand and picked the shot glass off the bar with the other, placing it inside her bathing suit bottom. The crowd murmured. Rosemary could hear the sharp intake of breath, including her own, and the sense of anticipation for the next move. Her skin still sizzled where Conan had touched her. She held his gaze as he looked deep into her eyes, searing a hole right through to her soul. He lowered his head and grazed her neck with his tongue, then blazed a trail between her breasts. Suddenly she was in a world where only she and Conan existed, and Rosemary lost awareness of where she was or who watched their dance. Conan grabbed the saltshaker and poured it on her wet, heaving breasts. Setting the shaker aside, he ran two fingers over her nipples, where they pointed for him like two laser missiles. He picked up the lemon from the bar and placed it in his mouth, leaning toward her. Pressing his mouth to hers, he slipped the lemon through her lips. He journeyed south, licking his way down her neck to dip his tongue between her breasts to lick the salt. He trailed his tongue under her bathing suit top rubbing her nipple, and releasing a burning cauldron in her that left her aching with desire. His hot breath scorched her as he trailed down to kiss her exposed stomach. Her flesh was on fire—a conflagration of desire so intense and delightful that it bordered on pain. When his hot breath fanned her mound, she wanted desperately to push his head into her. He deftly took the glass in his mouth and lifted his head back to drink. Removing the shot glass from his mouth, he 34

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leaned forward taking the lemon from between her lips, scooping it up with his tongue, and drew back to bite it while staring deeply into her eyes. The crowd that surrounded them clapped and screamed with exaltation, ever increasing her heat. “More, more,” they cried out, obviously having enjoyed the encounter as much as Rosemary. This man was a pro. A slow tune began playing on the jukebox. Conan grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her arms around his neck, drawing his muscular arms around her, drawing her into his feverish body. She melted, sliding down his body like soft, wet pudding. She felt the ripple of hard muscle under the taut, top layer of his skin. She moved her body closer into his. He bent down and kissed her softly, gently, like she’d never been kissed in her life. He tasted of manly desire. Then his tongue grew hard and demanding. He moved his hands down and massaged her ass, then pressed his erection against her crotch. Rosemary knew they were close to doing something that could have them both arrested—but in this world, all her cares sailed out the door and into the wind. The heat built up to a raging inferno as he found a quiet, dark corner and pressed her into the wall. His huge body blocked anyone from seeing him slide his hard, callused hands under her bathing suit bottoms and stroking her with his fingers. In the crescendo of excitement, she could feel her body readying for climax, each muscle stretching like a rubber band. “I’m going to come,” she whispered to him. “I’ve got you, baby. Go for it,” he answered, his voice deep and sensual. Then she plunged over the edge. The spasms started deep inside, spreading out like a spider’s web in every direction; a flood of wetness soaked her bathing suit. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, and collapsed into his arms, quivering in her own blissful juices. True to his word, he held her against him and didn’t let her fall. 35

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Once her mind cleared, she regained control of her senses. Embarrassed, she said, “I need to go to the bathroom.” Conan reluctantly let her go. * * * Rosemary heard the sound of Chopin’s melody and groggily awoke from her virtual fantasy. Her body felt like lead—and her panties were soaked. Frank removed the helmet. “How was it?” Frank asked. Rosemary was too overwhelmed to even answer. “Great,” she managed to squeak out. It had all seemed so real. Deep in her soul she wanted it to be real. What was worse, she was ready for another fantasy—now. This time she wanted Conan inside of her. Why hadn’t she asked for penetration? It was just a fantasy—she could do anything she wanted! When she finished dressing, Sandra met her at the door. “How was your virtual fantasy experience?” “Wonderful. I want to go ahead and make an appointment for my next one.” “Great.” Sandra smiled, obviously pleased her client’s experience had been positive. “We can do that right now.” Rosemary hesitated, “One question. Is it possible for me to go back to the same scenario, only carry the fantasy a little…uh…further next time?” “Sure,” said Sandra, winking. “That’s the name of the game.” “Would the end of the week be too soon? I have a business trip scheduled for next week.” “No, we can work you in. How about Friday at say…five-thirty p.m.?” “I’ll be here!” * * * Rosemary squirmed in her chair all afternoon, waiting for an imminent call from Jerk Head. Her sticky, wet panties were 36

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uncomfortable, but a steady reminder of how exciting her Virtual Fantasy experience had been. Conan is the man in my dreams. If only I could meet someone like him in real life. But then it would get complicated—as usual. The insistent ring of the phone jolted her. “Technical Solutions, Rosemary speaking.” “Don’t we sound cheerful today? What happened, did you find your broom?” Jerk Head chided. Rosemary’s mood plummeted. “And what is that supposed to mean?” Rosemary bit back, revealing her annoyance at Jerk Head. “Never mind,” Jerk said, replacing his usual sarcasm with his business tone. “Look, we have a situation at a customer site I think you need to be aware of.” “Oh, yeah?” Rosemary said, dread creeping into her veins. She could feel a headache coming on. “We suspect one of the employees of tampering with the servers. We’ve got several of our best technical guys working the night shift out there. Could be they’re wanna-bes just experimenting with protocol or it could be a serious hacking problem. We don’t know at this point.” “How did you find out about this?” “One of the server logs showed a log-in at the time we had the outage. We’re checking it out now.” Defensively, Rosemary fired, “Sounds like you’re playing the blame-it-on-someone-else game.” “I don’t really care what it sounds like. I’ll let you know when we nail the perpetrator.” “Well, I’ll be at the account Monday to talk to you about it—in person.” Rosemary hung up the phone without waiting for a response. Her head pounded. Shit! On her way home from work Rosemary picked up her cell and 37

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called Irma, her best friend. It had been so long since they had talked. . “Hey, stranger, it’s me. How are you?” “I’m hanging in. How are you?” said the voice on the other end. “Haven’t heard from you in a while. They got you ball and chained to the desk?” “That’s about it. Hey, can you do me a big favor Friday and pick up the kids at school?” “Sure. Hot date?” “More or less.” “Do tell,” said Irma, her voice full of curiosity. “I’ll tell you all about it when I pick the kids up on Friday. Oh, I’m bringing pizza.” “Oh, boy,” said Irma. “Catch up time.” “You don’t have a hot date with the hunk, do you?” Rosemary asked, suddenly remembering Irma had been seeing a flashy attorney the last time they spoke. Irma sighed. “No, he dumped me for a corporate lawyer making big bucks.” “Bastard. Sorry to hear that, hon.” “Thanks. Well, since my love life has gone to shit, I can’t wait to hear about yours. I’ll have the blender cranked up when you get here.” “Great. You make some mean margaritas.” “And, Rosemary, don’t forget the note to school this time.” “Bite me. Gotta go, Irma…the other line is ringing. See you Friday night.” “Adieu.” * * * The next day, Cullen raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. His plan for catching the hacker had come to a dead end. Whoever it was played a heavy game of cat and mouse with him, and Cullen’s patience level had dropped sub-zero. This day has gone to hell-in-a-hand basket fast. 38

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Well, at least he had his virtual fantasy to look forward to tonight— the only bright spot in his day so far. A little tension reliever never hurt anyone. It’ll be just what the little, old doctor ordered. Screw exercise, this was so much better—and got his heart rate up much higher than Stairmaster could ever hope for—along with other things. After checking all systems, Cullen left for Virtual Fantasy, Inc. He was going to choose a new fantasy partner tonight—one who fit his personal dream woman ideal, not the stereotype mannequin he’d been cavorting with. Cullen walked out of the building and glanced at his watch. Ten minutes to get to Virtual Fantasy—he’d have to take a shortcut through the park if he wanted to be there on time. Picking up speed, he took the path through the playground. A mother strolled her toddler to the swing set. Cullen stopped in his tracks, mesmerized by the scenario that unfolded before him. The look on the mother’s face and the child’s return look of adoration sent a longing surging through him that bordered on an ache. He didn’t quite understand what was going on within himself. Was this some kind of male version of the biological ticking clock syndrome that hit women in their mid-thirties? Or was he just maturing in a way he’d never given much thought to? For whatever reason, the feelings were powerful and intense—and haunted him every day and every night in his dreams. There was no escape—he wanted a wife. He wanted children. Richard met him at the door to Virtual Fantasy with a ready handshake and cordial greeting. “Long time no see, buddy. Where you been?” “Busy,” said Cullen. “Been doin’ the real thing for awhile, huh?” Richard ribbed, slapping Cullen on the back. Cullen smiled. “Not that kind of busy, Richard. Busy at work…a new project. Besides one can’t live on sex alone, as pleasant as that 39

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would be.” Richard laughed and walked with Cullen into the Virtual Fantasy room. “You want a new woman this time or the usual? We just got some fresh faces in from the generator in Dallas.” “I’ll try Dallas.” “Sure. Any characteristic preference—hair color, skin, height, weight…?” “I want a brunette this time.” “Whoa, you are switching gears here, dude.” “Now I’m really going to blow your mind. I want her on the more voluptuous side, meat on her bones, and a very large chest.” Richard keyed the instructions into the program format. “Let’s see what we have here.” Richard clicked on about ten full-length pictures. Then a striking woman with a short bobbed haircut and dark blue eyes peered out of the screen. Cullen’s heart did a flip. “Stop! That’s her,” he said excitedly. “I want this one.” Richard clicked the mouse on the woman at different points on her body, allowing her to do model’s turns so Cullen could examine her from all angles. Her very buxom chest and curvaceous hips gave her the appearance of having an hourglass figure. Cullen’s fingers itched to run his rough hands over her soft, ample flesh. Cullen let out a wolf whistle. “Hot damn, that’s my girl, Richard.” “This is a drastic change for you, Cullen. What happened? Did some leggy blonde give you the old heave-ho or something?” “No, just trying something different for a change.” “Okay, here is the lotion and the ole sex body suit. Just strip your threads, and lay on the table supine. You know the drill. Hey, you still want the beach scene?” “Yeah, that’ll be fine.” “Just checking since you’re into change these days.” 40

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Cullen closed his eyes and relaxed to Mozart’s symphony being piped through the headphones. * * * Mozart’s symphony faded into Bonnie Raitt’s belting gravelly voice. “I hear thunder in the distance…” Cullen felt the hot sun beating down on his naked body. Sprawled out on a rock, he listened to the crash of the ocean. He felt like a lizard. He started as he heard a voice close to him. “Excuse me. Hey, excuse me, mister, but you’re on my rock.” Cullen forced one eye open and scrutinized the attractive woman in front of him who had the audacity to interrupt his peace. “What?” “You heard me,” the woman said insistently. “You are on my rock.” “Oh, really? Funny, I didn’t see your name on it.” “Well, I’ll bring my etcher next time I come. I always lay on this rock when I come to the beach. I don’t like the sand.” “If you don’t like the sand, why, pray tell, do you come to the beach?” Cullen asked. “Because I like the ocean, the sound of the waves crashing on shore and the salty tang of the air. I feel better here. Relaxed. Free. This is the only place where I can feel the cares of the world just slip away.” “Makes sense.” He smiled at the beautiful nut case. If she had to be a nut, at least she was a good one—and gorgeous to boot. She stared at him. “So are you going to get up?” “Well, I was here first today, so I claim squatter’s rights. But I’ll make you a deal you can’t refuse. The rock is big enough for both of us. I’ll share with you.” The woman looked him up and down. He knew exactly what she saw when she looked at him with his long midnight black hair, goatee, diamond earring in one ear and a serpent tattoo curled around a welldeveloped bicep. She probably thinks I’m a biker instead of a computer geek, he thought. Especially with this scar on my face. 41

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He expected her to pull out a score sheet any second. “Okay, but on one condition—you have to rub the suntan oil on me.” She plopped down next to him, her rose-colored skin searing into his leg, and spikes of pleasure ripped through him. Cullen gasped and then recovered, except for one stubborn appendage. Suddenly, he was aware of his nudity—no way could he hide his rapidly swelling shaft, pointed straight toward her. “Okay, roll over,” Cullen said quickly. If she lay on her stomach, maybe she wouldn’t notice his erection. But she wasn’t ready yet. She quickly dropped her flimsy beach cover and stood naked before him. His heart jumped up in his throat and his penis grew harder. Her sun-bronzed skin gleamed at him enticingly; her huge breasts with large areolas sagged ever so slightly, making them even more real and attractive to him. She had obviously shaved and trimmed her crotch for a thong bikini—just the way he liked it. Saliva filled his mouth as he stared at the sight in front of him. What had begun as a pure, relaxing afternoon had graduated to an impending afternoon of sex-on-the-beach, and he wasn’t talking about the drink. She meticulously placed the towel down on the rock, her breasts swaying while she leaned to adjust it, and then lay prone on the towel. He had to restrain himself from reaching out to grab a handful. But wait, she had only asked him to rub the oil on her. Once settled, she handed him the bottle of suntan oil. What a smorgasbord of potential delight. Where do I begin? Cullen squeezed the oil into his hands, rubbing them together vigorously. Then he placed his hands on her arms, stretching his fingers, making small, circular motions while moving slowly up to her neck. She moaned in delight. He worked down her back and squirted the oil onto her ample buttocks. Kneading the flesh under his fingers, 42

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he felt the fire. He loved working over her body. He squirted more oil in his hands and worked the inside of her legs, inching ever so close to her vagina, but pulling back and dropping down to her calves. What a turn on this was. He gently rolled her over and smeared the hot, oily lotion over those luscious breasts, ripe for the picking. He tweaked her nipples as he covered them thoroughly, and they peaked for him. It took all his willpower to keep from rolling them between his fingers. Luckily, she kept her eyes shut or she would certainly notice the massive boner she had produced. Moving down to her stomach, Cullen rubbed every inch right to where her hairline would have been, then moved back up to grease her breasts once more. He moved down to her feet and worked the lotion between her toes, the nails painted a bubble gum pink color. From her toes, he angled in to her inner thighs, his fingers electrified as he moved closer to her pussy. Teasing. Stimulating. He hoped. Sweat dripped from his brow while he worked the other leg. He slowly spread her legs, just enough to see her beautiful pink lips, inviting him to plunge his enormous shaft into her waiting cave. He put more oil on his hand and rubbed them together, harder this time. His breath came hard and fast now, his pulse pounded in his ears. It’s time to go for it. He rubbed up her inner thigh again, and then placed his hand on her slit. Her bright blue eyes flew open and she raised her head slightly to look him in the eyes. Damn, I blew it. Cullen said quickly, “Just making sure you’re all covered. Just think how uncomfortable your panties will feel if you get burned here.” “I don’t wear panties,” she said demurely. Cullen’s penis jerked. “We can’t have you get sunburned out here, can we?” she asked sweetly. “Would you like for me to put oil on you? After all, you are 43

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sharing the rock.” Oh, yeah, if I can stand it without shooting my wad and embarrassing myself. She straddled him and squirted the oil on his chest. He looked down to see the white outline of a penis made out of the suntan oil boldly displayed on his chest. He looked at her directly in the eyes and she gave him a grin as she began to rub the oil in while he laid back, eyes closed, enjoying every sensation that rocked through him. He couldn’t resist lifting his head slightly once in a while to watch those mountainous globes sway as she rubbed. His perpetual erection rapped her in the cunt, and she smiled, seemingly enjoying the pleasure she bestowed on him. When she finally reached his stomach, he closed his eyes, muscles involuntarily clenching. Cullen had to give her credit. Not once did she make mention of his massive hard-on while she rubbed. Maybe she thought this was his natural state. He could feel her legs glide down his thighs and her wet pussy slide over his leg. She was turned on, too! She rubbed his feet, then legs, inching up toward his shaft. He wanted her to grab it with both hands and put it inside her warm, sweet flesh. He wanted her to send him over the edge. He wanted to send her over the edge. Slowly she rubbed the oil inside of his thighs, and then came up to tenderly stroke his balls. He inhaled sharply without flinching. “We can’t have these getting sunburned now, can we?” She laughed. “It might hurt when you put on your briefs.” “I don’t wear underwear,” Cullen said hoarsely. She laughed again. But before he could respond she grabbed his penis and began stroking it. This time he moaned with pleasure. No doubt about it. She was good at this. Rubbing his balls and stroking his penis at the same time was the next best thing to having him inside of her. She removed her hands and he wanted to yell at her 44

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not to stop. Then he felt it. She wrapped the soft lips of her vagina around his shaft as she slid down over him, gliding slowly in and out. He grabbed her hips, enjoying the ride. She moved up and down his shaft, creating her own rhythm over him. He rose to greet her, bucking up with his hips. She was hot and tight, as wet and slick as hot dew on the grass in summertime. She propped herself up with her hands on his knees, giving him the view of a lifetime, watching his dick slide in and out of her pussy, greeting it every time with a muscular clench harder than a firm handshake.Just when he thought he was going to explode, she shifted and turned, lying down on his chest, fucking him hotly with wild abandon. He squeezed and pinched her breasts and she picked up speed. Then he felt her body stiffen, her vagina clenching firm then releasing his dick. She screamed with her release and he exploded with her in the most powerful orgasm he had ever experienced. Then she melted beneath his hands, the light faded and he heard the distant strains of Mozart’s “Concerto.” Damn, it’s over.

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CHAPTER 5

Cullen did not look forward to his ten o’clock morning conference call to the wicked witch. But just like clockwork, the phone rang right on time. “Cullen here.” “Hi, Cullen, Rosemary here. How are things going up there?” “Fine, it’s snowing here. Looks like we’re in for a white Christmas.” “We’re hoping for one here in Dallas, but it’s doubtful. Heard we had another outage last night. We got a lot of complaints over the wire today.” Cullen rubbed his head and popped another Extra-Strength Tylenol. “I checked on the cause this morning personally. The official report stated doc inconclusive.” Irritation filtered through Rosemary’s voice. “In other words, you can’t find what is causing the problem?” “Affirmative,” Cullen answered curtly. 46

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“You know, you could make it easier for me if you could get to the bottom of all this. That is your job.” “We didn’t do any patches or upgrades last night. The server was stable when we closed the office. An error message is all we saw on the machine this morning. We brought the system down and rebooted. Everything seems to be working fine now. It’s almost like someone on the customer end of this is tampering with the system.” “Now that’s a stretch.” Sarcasm seeped through Rosemary’s tone. “No, believe it or not, that is possible. We’ll just keep monitoring and see what turns up.” “Okay, let me know when you find something.” * * * Later in the day the phone rang and Jake Sanford’s smooth midwestern accent greeted Rosemary on the other end of the line. “Hi, Rosemary. What have you heard from your operations manager about these continuing outages? The big boys are pressing me hard for some answers.” “Hi, yourself. I just talked to Cullen Blakely. He thinks he may have the solution. We’ll discuss it on Monday when I get there. Hopefully, we’ll have it rectified by then.” “Man, I hope so. I’m tired of the top brass breathing down my neck. They have me figuring percentage of work loss and you know how I hate that crap.” Rosemary chuckled. “I hope to save you from that medieval torture device real soon.” “Thanks, Rosemary. Look do you need me to pick you up at the airport? “No, thanks. I have a rental car.” “Maybe we could meet for dinner then.” “Sorry, I’ll eat my bistro bag on the plane. Yum, yum. After I check into the hotel, I have to dial-in and check my messages before the hectic schedule on Monday. I’ll have to take a rain- check.” 47

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“Well, you better make it soon.” Rosemary wondered if she just imagined his voice turning harsh with that last statement. “I’ll see you at the office on Monday and we can make a plan then.” “Fine.” Did she just imagine attitude with the single word response and slamming of the phone? she wondered. * * * Friday afternoon finally arrived. Rosemary felt like the string on a bow, pulled back taut and ready to release. She looked at the clock and her anxiety melted. Time for her Virtual Fantasy! Sandra met her in the office at Virtual Fantasy, Inc. to take her payment and devise her next scenario. “I’m hoping for a complete interaction this time,” said Rosemary, her face flaming with the heat of her blush. “Yes, we’ve provided for that,” said Sandra, maintaining her professionalism, obviously aware of Rosemary’s discomfort. “We actually picked up this fantasy from the end of the last scenario, if that is okay with you? Are you ready for the body suit?” “Oh, yeah.” Rosemary went to the dressing room and rubbed the lotion all over her body then put on her sex body suit and lay on the table. Sam hooked the electrodes up to the suit and lowered the helmet and headphones onto her head. The familiar, soothing sounds of Bach relaxed her into a deep trance state. Bach faded into Miles Davis’ “Freddie Freeloader.” * * * Rosemary dashed to the bathroom to collect her senses and wash up. Washing her hands at the sink, she sensed someone watching her. Glancing up in the mirror, she saw Conan standing there with his arms crossed, muscles bulging, his diamond earring winking at her. Rosemary turned around. “You’re not supposed to be in here. This 48

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is the ladies’ room.” Conan took a step in and turned around, locking the door behind him. He ambled toward her, lust burning in his eyes. Rosemary stepped back. The fierce, animal-like heat radiating from his eyes scared her. Her heart thudded wild in her chest and she took another step backward. It wasn’t just his burning eyes that scared her. This man’s intense sexual energy and the power it held over her froze her in fright. He stopped when he read the fear on her face. “Come to me, beautiful. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt in your life. I want you.” Her body shook as she sagged into his arms in relief. She leaned her head up to kiss him. Her knees quivered as he lavished her mouth with his thick, hot tongue. He backed her up to the counter and stroked her breast with his hand. Lowering his mouth, he placed it right over the nipple on top of her bathing suit. He pulled and nipped, soaking the material. Then he moved to the other side. The wet material soon turned cold and made her ache for the warmth of his mouth. In a gruff voice, he said, “We’re going to finish in here what we started out there.” Wet, white heat pooled in her loins. He twined his fingers inside her bathing suit bottoms and pulled them off, taking a whiff of them before he threw them aside. Lifting her to the edge of the counter, he kneeled down and inserted his head between her legs. He sucked her pulsing nub into his mouth, laving it over and over with his tongue, sensations shooting through her veins like ice on a hot river. Rosemary moaned loudly, digging her fingernails into his scalp, pushing his head harder into her begging cunt. “Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Don’t stop.” He rewarded her by licking and probing even harder. Then he stopped. No, don’t stop, Conan. She opened her eyes and watched him pull off his leather vest, 49

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revealing the six-pack ripple on his stomach. Rosemary couldn’t wait to see the whole package. She brushed his hands away from his zipper. “Let me.” She slowly unzipped his pants and lowered them inch-by-inch until she saw his massive shaft for the first time. Rosemary had never seen anything so tantalizing. As he moved closer, she grabbed his penis with both her hands and led it straight to her epi-center. Throwing her head back and wrapping her legs around his waist, she let him take charge of the plunge. Fast and urgent, Conan moved just like she wanted it. She felt totally filled by his dick, totally fulfilled in his sex. Rosemary moved her hands around to his butt cheeks and enjoyed squeezing the muscular buns as he thrust deeper and faster. She thought she would die if her release didn’t come soon. When she opened her eyes and saw his face contort, she let go into her tremors of ecstasy. At the same time, he plunged hard and let out a deep, masculine roar. Music to her ears. * * * She opened her eyes to strains of Bach and the snapping of the electrodes being removed from her suit. Sam greeted her after her journey. “How was it this time?” She could barely manage to stand up, her body felt so heavy and weak. “Perfect.” Cleaning up in the bathroom, she stuck her wet undies in her briefcase. Then she was off to Irma’s to eat and pick up her kids. I’ve got to remember the pizza. Back to the real world. True to her word, Irma stood at the door with a frozen margarita in her hand. “Here you go. Thought you could use this about now. The kids are in the back watching Monsters, Inc. Now, come sit on the couch and tell me all about your mystery man.” Rosemary sat the box of pizza on the coffee table then collapsed into the cushy comfort of Irma’s couch. Irma grabbed a piece of pizza. “So where did you meet your new 50

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mystery man?” Rosemary took a sip of her margarita, licking the salt from the side. “It’s not what you think. I haven’t actually got a real man in my life.” “Huh?” said Irma, looking a mite disappointed. “I went to that new place called Virtual Fantasy, Inc. I had the best sex I’ve ever had in my life with the best-looking, sexiest man I’ve ever seen in real life. Damn, he would have to be a virtual person.” “Honey, it’s been my experience that the best sex is the kind we make up in our head. Reality has never measured up to my dreams. Thank God for the night!” Rosemary laughed. “Come on, now, Irma. I seem to recall it wasn’t too terribly long ago you were telling me about how Bastard, as we refer to him now, was turning you every which way but loose and you were loving every millisecond of it.” Irma giggled. “Well, Bastard left me, but he left me with some great memories, too. He can’t take those away.” Rosemary proceeded to tell Irma all about Conan and her Virtual Fantasy, then gave Irma a gift certificate for her birthday—one free session at Virtual Fantasy, Inc. * * * The lone, dark figure moved among the shadows at the computer annex. So Cullen Blakely thinks he can catch me, does he? Ha. There is no way he’s smart enough to beat the Herald. I’ll have him off this account and fired before he knows what hit him. If this company thinks they can demote me and outsource to another company, they have another thing coming. I’m going to be the sole downfall of Technical Solutions, destroying their reputation in the business community and bringing the tech work back to Package Out, Inc.—if it’s the last thing I do on this planet. And, I will have Rosemary, one way or another. She was born to be mine. 51

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The dark figure hacked into the system and reconfigured the batch file to derail the tracking system orders. “That should do it,” he said to himself, slipping into the dark abandoned hallway. * * * Cullen’s pager went off in the middle of the night, waking him from the most pleasant dream. He immediately called on-site and discovered Package Out’s server had gone down at midnight. “Did we do any maintenance last night?” Cullen asked. “No, sir.” “How long has it been down?” Cullen asked, his own adrenaline kicking in like a caffeine overdose. “For about twenty minutes. Your men have assured me they’ve located the problem and are bringing the server back up now.” “Thanks for letting me know. This one’s going to cost us, big time.” “Yes, sir, I know.” Damn, now I’m going to have to call the wicked witch and listen to her wrath. * * * Rosemary felt the hard wind whipping her face as she rode down the coastal highway on the Harley—behind Conan, holding onto his washboard abs, rubbing every now and then. Her crotch pressed up next to his rounded butt and she wiggled once in awhile just to intensify the sensation. Between the vibration of the motorcycle and the heat of his body, she was in a sexually heightened state. Suddenly, Conan turned, pulling the bike onto a one-lane road that led right up to a small lake. They walked in silence to the edge of the water, peeled off their clothes and dove in. Rosemary splashed Conan and he pulled her under. She came up sputtering and grabbed his head with both hands to dunk him under the water. His head stayed still, but her body came up, exposing her breasts. He sucked one nipple into his mouth, pulling, teasing, moaning and suckling. Spasms of delight shot 52

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down her body and she put her arms around his shoulders while he nuzzled the other breast. An insistent ringing noise made her turn her head and Conan faded into the lake. She opened her eyes. It’s the telephone. Damn. “Hello, rise and shine. This is your wake up call from Mr. God himself.” Shit. “I would definitely call this a rude awakening. What could you possibly want at this ungodly hour of the morning, except to harass me? Do you ever sleep?” “Nope, sorry, Mr. God doesn’t have to sleep.” “I’ll forgive you this once. Just don’t let it happen again. What’s up?” “Bad news. The server went down again with a twenty minute outage this time.” “Oh, no! This is going to cost us a sweet fortune. Heads are going to roll.” “Yeah, how well I know. The good news is that it’s back up and running now, and we’re getting close to the source. I’ll call you back as soon as I find out anything.” “Don’t bother. I’m flying into Denver tonight and I’ll be at Package Out headquarters first thing in the morning. You’ll be there, right?” “Yeah, I’m flying in tonight, too. So we finally get to meet, in person.” Rosemary hung up the phone. I’ll bet he’s short and bald with a beer belly, and badly in need of a fashion consultant. Typical computer geek. Boy, do I have him pegged. I can probably spot him in the airport crowd. She giggled at the thought and wriggled down deep in the covers. Man, I hope my dream comes back. In an intense state of sexual excitement, Rosemary tossed and turned. Sleep eluded her. Frustrated and angry at Jerk Head for ruining her bliss, and desperately in need of relief, she fumbled for the 53

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nightstand drawer. The vibrator she’d received as a gag birthday gift from a friend had never been tested out. She kept it hidden in the back of the drawer, for emergencies only. This was an emergency. Supposedly the thing had a heating element, if she could just find the right button, damn it. She finally found a moderate rhythm and felt it heat in her hand. Wow. This thing lived up to the advertisements—it felt like the real deal. Recreating the scenario of the lake scene in her mind of Conan’s hot lips sucking on her nipples, she spread her labia, exposing her swollen, throbbing clitoris. She edged the tip of the warm vibrator to her clitoris, moving it in circles over the nub. “Oh, Conan, you feel so good, honey. Yes, that’s just right. I love the way you move. Put it inside me, baby. Yes!” Feeling a deep sense of warmth and penetration, Rosemary catapulted to her climax quickly, her body shaking with release. She smiled to herself. Now she could sleep—and finally forgive Jerk Head. * * * Rosemary awoke before the alarm went off. She pressed the off button and jumped out of bed. Thank God for Irma. She’d graciously volunteered to help Rosemary pack and get everyone together. Organization was Irma’s middle name. Things sailed along so smoothly with Irma in charge. Irma would be keeping the kids for the week. She had volunteered to stay at Rosemary’s so their routine would not be disrupted. “I got your mail. I sat it on the sofa table,” Irma told Rosemary as she grabbed Jason and swung him around in the air. “Thanks. I better take a quick look and see if there are any bills that need to be paid before I go.” Rosemary thumbed through the mail while watching Irma play with Jason. She really needs kids, Rosemary thought. She opened an envelope addressed to her with no forwarding address. There was a single sheet of paper with black typed letters on it. 54

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—— We’re growing stronger Not much longer Before we reveal Our soul’s earthly deal Time is short For you…no resort. A united front I’ll eat your cunt Nothing can stop Me from coming on top Only us—that’s what’s real. I fuck, you deal. Your Secret Admirer —— “Oh, no!” Her hands and legs began to shake and she held on to the back of the couch until she walked herself around it to sink onto the cushion. Irma immediately saw her distress and released Jason. “What’s wrong?” Rosemary thrust the letter into Irma’s hands and she read the brief poem. “What does this mean? I don’t understand.” “Jason, honey, you go back and play with the others while I talk to Irma.” Rosemary watched him scoot off and turned to face Irma on the couch. “This is the second of these I’ve received. The first one was very specific about what he wanted from me in a sexual way. That one was delivered at work and now this one at my home. I’m scared.” Irma hugged her and said, “Of course you’re scared. You have 55

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some weirdo sending you nasty poems. Have you contacted the police?” “No, not yet. The first one caught me by such surprise, but now this one to my home…frightens me. It sounds like whoever’s sending these is becoming more obsessive. I’ll call the police as soon as I get back from this trip.” “You be careful. Okay?” “I will.” * * * After protracted kisses and hugs, Rosemary took off for the airport. She dropped her car at Park-N-Fly and took the shuttle to the terminal. She’d carefully checked the contents of her carry-on bag, lap top computer bag and her shoes. She didn’t want to get zapped again. She’d almost missed her plane the last few times she’d flown because of metal in her shoes that set off the alarm. “Ma’am, can you please step over to the side and remove your shoes?” the security guard asked. Shit, here we go. “Sure.” Like I really look like I’m on the Most Wanted list. Rosemary did as instructed. She removed her shoes and stood with her arms out while a guard moved the security wand over her and another inspected her bags. “I don’t understand. I’m sure there’s nothing in my bag that’s dangerous or illegal.” “No, ma’am, I’m sure there’s not. This is just a random check. Regulations.” Great! Just my luck. Rosemary breathed a sigh of relief when the plane took off. Unfortunately, the gentleman next to her wanted to talk the whole way. Every time she shut her eyes, he’d ask her a question. The pilots delayed landing for thirty minutes due to wind shears. She exited from the plane at C25—the farthest gate from baggage claim you could get. Then she stopped in front of Chili’s, which she 56

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eyed wistfully while thinking about the Bistro supper consumed on the plane. She moved her laptop strap to her other shoulder before moving down the terminal. Her luggage took forever to arrive at baggage claim. Once she arrived at the hotel room, Rosemary collapsed in a heap in the middle of the bed with all her clothes on, not awaking until the next morning.

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CHAPTER 6

Cranky could not begin to describe Cullen’s mood tonight. He should be in the hotel watching his football game by now, but because of the winter storms his flight had been delayed. Nothing seemed to go right anymore—a few rocks sliding down the mountain, then the avalanche, which epitomized his life at present—one big downhill slide from the summit of Mount Everest. He sat at a small table next to the window in the airport bar. At least he could watch the pretty girls strut by while he waited for his food. The waitress plunked his hamburger and fries in front of him. He popped a fry into his mouth, glanced toward the people moving down the terminal in the direction of baggage claim, and choked on the potato. It was her—the woman from his fantasy—in the flesh adjusting her heavy laptop bag! Coughing and sputtering, he grabbed a napkin, took out his wallet and threw ten dollars on the table. The waitress ran to his table, slapped his back and pulled her arms around his stomach in readiness for the Heimlich maneuver she had obviously been trained to 58

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do for choking victims. Cullen raised his hand. “It’s okay. I’m not choking, just coughing. Gotta go. Your money’s on the table.” The waitress looked crestfallen. She had obviously wanted her fifteen minutes of fame by playing the heroine with headlines screaming—Waitress Saves Local Business Man. He could see the headlines now, and her medal-of-honor awarded by the local fire department for saving yet another life. He grabbed his laptop and raced to find his flesh-and-blood fantasy woman. He ran in the direction he’d seen her headed, wildly scanning both directions. She had looked like an identical match to his computer generated fantasy woman from the beach. Damn, I’ve lost her. * * * Rosemary arrived at Package Out, Inc. later than planned. The receptionist buzzed Jake Sanford to meet her in the lobby to direct her to the workstation she’d occupy during her stay at the client site. Stepping through the doors, Jake walked briskly and business like toward her, his hand extended in greeting. “Rosemary, so nice to see you again.” Dark-haired and tall, Jake was a good-looking man. He worked for Package Out as senior operations manager. He and Rosemary had always had a good working relationship, but one that took place mainly over the phone lines. She shook his hand, noticing he held onto it about two seconds longer than what she deemed appropriate. “You, too, Jake. Have you been snow skiing? You look tanned.” “Yes, I had a four-day weekend. Great skiing. I just wish it could’ve been longer, but with the problems we’ve been having, I cut it short.” “I’ve been worried about that, too. Hopefully we can get to the bottom of it before more damage is done. Then you can take your long ski trip.” 59

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“Sounds great. Listen, we scheduled a meeting with Cullen Blakely and some of the other technical advisors from Tech Solutions for nine this morning. It’s already started so we’ll head into the conference room. Do you need some coffee before we go in?” “Yes, thanks.” Great…late again, just in another time zone. While Jake poured her coffee, they chatted amicably about the snowstorm last night, and the dearth of snow in Dallas for Christmas. Walking into the conference room, Jake interrupted the meeting to make the mandatory introductions. One man in the back had been rifling through his briefcase. When he looked up to greet Rosemary, both of their extended hands froze in mid-air. Time seemed to stand still, like a real life freeze-frame. He spoke to her first, in a raspy, unsteady voice. “Cullen Blakely,” he said, without taking his eyes off her. “Rosemary Holt,” she said, unable to release his hand or his gaze. Something is wrong with this picture. He’s an imposter. He’s given me the wrong name. This can’t be the real Cullen Blakely—not Jerk Head, the fat, bald geek with horn-rimmed glasses and wrinkled clothes. Cullen Blakely was the man she had made love to at Virtual Fantasy, Inc.—in the flesh—her Conan. This could not be Jerk Head! How could the computer have generated an exact duplicate? What kind of sick, twisted trick was this? Cullen seemed to recover faster than Rosemary. After what seemed like five minutes of shaking her hand, he let it go. Electric shocks surged up and down her arms and shot straight to her heart, sending it into overdrive. My, God, Cullen is Conan. Conan is Cullen. Damn, I’ve never been so confused in my life. So what the hell am I supposed to do now? She forced herself to shape her lips and voice box to release the sound for the word, “Hi.” Rosemary knew she hadn’t blinked and her eyes must be as big as 60

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saucers. She really felt, for the first time in her life, like she might faint. He’s even better looking in the flesh, if that’s humanly possibly. The man standing before her was at least six-foot-three and powerfully muscular. The golf shirt he wore accented the deltoid muscles. She thought she glimpsed the edge of a tattoo under his shirtsleeve. Her gaze moved from his biceps to his chiseled jaw, firm and angular cheekbones, the familiar face and perfect line of his lips, sexy and jagged. Here before her was the raven black hair, although pulled back at the moment, blazing brown eyes, and that mouth… Oh, God—that same mouth that had explored all my secret places. A slight smile quirked his lip upward. He recognized her, too. Rosemary could feel her face flame up like a torch. I’ll bet he can read my mind. Jake cleared his throat. “If we can all be seated, the meeting will resume.” Cullen stared at Rosemary, eyes burning straight through her business suit, heating the flesh underneath. “Now our account executive has arrived, maybe someone can give her the rundown on the morning topic of discussion she missed.” Rosemary snapped out of the pink fog that surrounded her. Damn Jerk Head. Who does he think he is? Phil Rosenberg stepped up to explain the series of outages and detailed the attempts they had made to solve the problem. The environments on the servers were stable and the patches being done to them were not responsible for the systems going down. The event logs did not reveal any evidence of unauthorized hacking into the system. “So, from the information you’re giving me here, it appears the perpetrator has to be someone on our team.” “Yes,” said Cullen. “Or it could be someone from the client side of the house.” Rosemary pressed on, striving for clarity. “If security knows who logs in, then wouldn’t that narrow the playing field of possible 61

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culprits?” Some of the men guffawed, and some frowned at her seeming ignorance. Cullen, with a look of strained patience on his face, said, “You see, the problem is a person can make a change on the server two or three days in advance and direct it to make those changes on the next server re-boot. Sometimes that might be a week from the day the changes were made. It makes it very hard to pin down who did it.” Rosemary rolled her chair just a little further away from him. The very nearness of his body sent her imagination in wild abandon. Sex. Just the sound of his voice sent waves of passion skittering in all directions only to pool between her thighs. She doodled on her pad, her mind drifting back to her fantasy with Cullen…Conan…at Virtual Fantasy. Lost in fantasyland, she missed the dialogue between the operations managers until she heard her name called. She looked up from her doodles, all eyes staring at her. She blushed again. “I…I’m sorry. What was the question?” She glanced at Cullen, and wanted to wipe—no slap—the smug smile off his face. Jerk Head. Jake spoke. “I asked if it would be okay with you if we could have some figures put together on the cost of upgrading our systems for future expansions while we try to solve the outage problem.” “Oh, sure,” Rosemary said quickly. Oh, no, that means I’m going to be working face to face with Cullen. Can I do it? Rosemary cast a brief glance at Cullen. From the look on his face, he seemed none too happy with the idea either. * * * Thank God the meeting was over. Cullen didn’t think he could sit next to Rosemary much longer without exploding, at least one part of his body exploding. No woman had ever affected him like this—no real woman anyway. She looked like a cross between Demi Moore and 62

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Marilyn Monroe. When she’d walked into that conference room, he’d had to pinch himself to remind him that he was not in his body suit. In his fantasy, he would’ve taken her, right there in front of everyone. He wanted to tear her business suit off and suck those lovely orbs deep into his mouth. He longed to taste her flesh, bury his head between her soft, pink breasts, devouring her again and again with his tongue until she begged for his cock. He’d make her quiver and shake and sweat, then he’d bury himself deep in the comfort of her soothing channel, enveloping him like a warm, wet glove. He’d work her over until she came in waves, over and over. He would rock her hard and then spill his seed in her. He wanted her like he’d never wanted anything in his life. Then he knew. She’s real. She’s always been real. He thought back on that last time at Virtual Fantasy, Inc. and remembered Richard telling him, “We just got some fresh faces in from the generator in Dallas.” Damn Richard, he’s using real people for their fantasies instead of computer-generated people they claimed to be. Shit! Rosemary was from Dallas. He felt sick at his stomach. This couldn’t be happening to him. This is what I’ve been waiting for, preparing myself for. Rosemary is my future, my life. Why did it have to be the wicked witch? What a sick twist of fate. A warm softness melted over Cullen. He felt a release inside his soul that he had never known—a transformation. Can I work with her now? Can I pull this off? I have to. * * * Jake set up a private workroom for Cullen and Rosemary. Laptops clicked and buzzed, and papers soon littered the conference room floor. The phone sat between them for easy access. They worked straight through lunch. “Do you have the figures for the hardware we have in the system 63

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now with you?” Cullen asked. “Yeah, I think so. They’re over there by you in my briefcase. You’ll have to dig.” Cullen took her briefcase and began to search. He glimpsed a flash of bright red, somehow out of context, and he pulled it out. A smirk spread across his face as he lifted the red pair of panties into the air. He stretched the flimsy lace, his libido jump-starting at the visual of what they would look like filled with Rosemary’s rounded flesh. “Did you find them?” Rosemary asked as she looked up and saw the panties waving from his hand like a flag. Cullen watched her looking mortified beyond words as the heat spread over her face in bright red blotches. He hoped the blush was partly caused by something other than embarrassment. “Yeah, a lady never knows when she’ll need a good pair of red panties.” Cullen laughed. She stood and tried to snatch them away from him, but he kept jerking them up out of her reach, laughing and teasing her mercilessly. One last lunge sent her sprawling across his lap. The game had abruptly ended and Rosemary felt something new wash over them—that of awareness and impending seduction. The laughter froze on Cullen’s face as he stared hard into Rosemary’s eyes. He wanted her with every fiber of his being. Slowly he lowered his head in a hungry kiss, wanting desperately to taste her, mingling her erotic female flavors with those of his fantasies. The kiss ignited his blood, causing his ears to roar and a jolt of electricity through his whole body. A knock sounded at the door and Cullen pulled his mouth away. Rosemary jumped from his lap, straightening her rumpled skirt just as the door opened. Jake stuck his head in and frowned when he took in the obvious. “Just wondering if you need anything before I call it a day,” he asked, his voice innocuous, but his eyes scanning the room 64

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suspiciously. “No, nothing. Thanks. How about you, Rosemary?” Cullen asked, clearing his throat. She just shook her head, looking down as she smoothed her dress and hair with trembling hands. Looking totally guilty but sweet, Cullen thought. * * * After Jake left, they resumed their work, though Rosemary could barely keep her mind on the task at hand. At seven o’clock, Rosemary looked up at Cullen. “Are you hungry?” “Yeah,” he said, looking heavy lidded and exhausted. “Why don’t we call it a night? I know a great little place not far from here, if you’re interested.” “Uh, well…I’ll probably just order a pizza delivered to my room.” She had to keep things strictly professional with this man, her logical mind told her. She couldn’t afford to fall in his lap again. “Okay, if that is what you want.” Rosemary asked, “Before we save the spreadsheet, what name do you want to call this project?” “I have already named it—Project Temptation.” “Oh!” Rosemary could feel her face burn like a firecracker. She stared at her computer, not daring to look at Cullen. His low, seductive chuckle didn’t help matters any. She should throw a chair at him—Jerk Head. They walked to Rosemary’s car in the parking lot and found one shiny silver Mazda—with four flat tires. Cullen spoke first. “It looks like you aren’t going anywhere tonight—not in that car anyway.” Rosemary looked at Cullen’s frown and wondered if it was caused from the four flat tires or her putting him out. “I can’t believe I could have four flat tires at one time. What could I have possibly run over?” 65

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“Nothing. That was done deliberately.” Rosemary walked around to the driver’s side of the car to reach a white, folded sheet of paper flapping in the breeze under her windshield wiper. People were always putting advertisements on the car. She extracted the paper and opened it to read: —— Damn you, you cheating bitch Should of run you into the ditch I make the rules and now I’m mad With me only can you be bad. You are mine so don’t forget. Soon I’ll gift you with my dick. Your Secret Admirer —— Rosemary wadded up the sheet of paper and threw it on the ground. “Sick bastard. I can’t believe this is happening to me.” Cullen walked over, picked up the crumbled piece of paper and read what it said. “Rosemary, have you received these porno poems before?” “Yes, two others. One at work, one at home, now here. I’m frightened. This nut case knows where I am all the time.” “Have you contacted the police?” “No, not yet. I was going to wait until I got home.” “I think you may want to consider talking to them sooner than later. Do you have any idea who might be behind these? A boyfriend? Pastlover? Ex-husband?” Rosemary shook her head to each of these questions, “No, no one. I haven’t even had a date in about six months.” Cullen frowned but let it drop since he could sense how upset Rosemary really was. “Why don’t we get something to eat? There’s 66

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nothing you can do tonight anyway. To be honest, I hate eating alone. I’m tired of eating alone. You’d really be doing me a favor if you’d have dinner with me.” Rosemary reluctantly agreed. She would feel safer with Cullen now that she knew this pervert found her here. She’d just have to keep a lid on her struggle to keep her hands off Cullen. Besides, she’d feel like the ultimate heel if she turned him down. He was obviously a very lonely man. What could it hurt? My heart. My virtue. My sanity. They walked the two city blocks to the Italian Eatery—all atmosphere, cozy corners, candlelight, and couples conversing intimately over pasta. The seductive quality of the room itself only served to amp up her already revved-up heat conductors. They scooted into a booth in the back of the restaurant, Rosemary inching as far to the edge as possible away from Cullen. But he took up most of the space, leaving her vulnerable for a free fall if she moved away another inch. Heat seared her loins as his leg pressed firmly against hers. Cullen appeared unfazed. Leaning in close to read the menu, she could smell the scent of his cologne, musky, masculine, virile. I want this man, every inch of him. What the hell am I thinking? This is a business meeting! Cullen lifted his glass of merlot up to toast hers. He wasn’t such a Jerk Head outside of the office. Wild sensations coursed through her when he sank back in his seat, propping his arm around the back of the booth, and brushed against her neck slightly. The evening flew by. They ate, drank and laughed until the restaurant employees began closing, then walked slowly to Cullen’s car. Rosemary hadn’t felt so light-hearted in ages. They sat down in the front seat and Cullen turned around to face her. In her battle of will over passion, passion—that vital, soul-searing force that takes on a life of its own—won. Oh, the power and wonder of it. 67

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Cullen must have felt the force. Suddenly, it was like the bell rang for the horses to start the race because they grabbed each other hard, holding nothing back. Deep, penetrating kisses. Hungry kisses. The kind Rosemary had never known. She felt born again—into this new life with Cullen. A life she hadn’t been looking for, but that had nevertheless found her. Their breathing escalated and raw passion surged through them. Cullen pulled Rosemary toward him kissing his way down her neck. He cupped both her breasts in his hands and dived into the middle kissing and licking his way. Rosemary could not believe the sensations erupting in her. Never in her life had she been so out of control. Ready and wanting him to rip her shirt off her body and take her tingling nipples into his hot mouth. She ran her hand between his legs and rubbed his penis enjoying the thick, solid feel of it. A loud groan escaped Cullen, which seemed to break the spell they were wrapped in. They reluctantly pulled away from each other, both breathing hard and looking at one another with heavy, lust-lidded eyes. “We better go,” he said huskily. Cullen started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Clearing his throat he asked, “What hotel are you staying in?” “The Double Tree, a couple of blocks down.” “Yeah, I know the one. I have a room there, too.” “Oh…” Now I’m in deep shit, she thought. No way can I turn this man down. I want him. He wants me. It’s been so damn long… Once in the hotel, they both got on the elevator and Rosemary pushed her floor number five. She noticed Cullen did not push one. Uhoh, she thought. After that little episode in the car, he probably thinks I’m an easy target. Well, I’ll show him. They arrived at her room. With shaking hands, she inserted the plastic key card in the slot. When the light on the lock turned green, she pushed the door open, placing her briefcase strategically in the door to 68

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prop it open. She turned to Cullen. “It’s been a lovely evening. Thank you so much.” She watched his eyebrows quirk up in a questioning gesture, his gaze leveling on her. He moved toward her, folding her in his arms and whispering, “Yes, lovely.” He covered her mouth with his in a sweet, gentle kiss. He broke off the kiss, stepping back, very gentleman-like. “Thank you for joining me for dinner. Breakfast downstairs? Seventhirty?” “Yes, thanks. I’ll be there.” The night ended with a throbbing ache and a longing for more. Attraction without satisfaction. What a waste, Rosemary thought. * * * Jake popped his head in the office first thing the next morning, surprising Rosemary. Cullen had gone to get a cup of coffee. Walking over to her, he boldly asked, “Could you go to dinner with me tonight, Rosemary? We really need to discuss the upcoming budget and project.” “Sure,” said Rosemary, without taking her eyes off her work in progress. I’m certain Cullen will be coming along. This will make it easy—and safe. “I’ll pick you up at seven sharp in your hotel lobby.” And Jake was gone. By the time Cullen returned to the conference room Rosemary was already buried in paperwork. Attempting to keep her mind on her work with Hunk Head in the same room was next to impossible. If the problems were not so critical and their jobs not at stake, she would throw the papers and corporate problems out the window and suggest they head out to the countryside with cross country skis . And peel each layer of his clothes off, next to a roaring fire. Later that afternoon, Rosemary declared, “I finished the spreadsheet.” Cullen walked up behind her, leaning over to see the screen. Her 69

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nostrils flared at the scent of him. His aftershave sent ripples of fire roaring through her. I could turn my head and kiss him. He turned his head to look at her, his lips less than an inch from hers. Light-headed and senseless, her mental faculties checked out. She was all raw emotion—and sexual desire. He smiled at her seductively—teasing, imploring, inviting. Rosemary’s face burned with need, embarrassment, and lack of control. And she knew he knew. She licked her dry lips and watched his smile fade. She wanted him to kiss her so badly her lips throbbed. Cullen reached to answer the ringing phone. “Cullen here.” “Hi, can I speak to Rosemary?” Irma’s voice blared out. “Sure.” Cullen handed the receiver to Rosemary. “Hello, this is Rosemary.” “Who was that? Man, I hope the rest of him matches that sexy voice,” Irma exclaimed. “Oh, yeah…it does.” “You lucky dog. Me here slaving with your rug rats and you there with the hunk.” Rosemary laughed. “Poor you. How are the kids anyway? Behaving themselves, I hope.” “You know they are. I was just checking in. Everything is fine here. And Rosemary, don’t forget one single detail to tell me when you get home.” “You are so bad. I’ll see you soon. Tell the kids I love and miss them.” She sneaked a peek at Cullen to see what kind of expression he had on his face but he seemed engrossed in work, oblivious to her conversation with Irma. She glanced at her watch. They still had mountains of files to go through, but it was time for her to meet Jake. Taking folders from her desk she placed them in her briefcase to work on latter tonight. “Are you leaving?” Cullen looked at her in surprise. 70

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“Yes. Thank goodness, the rental company took care of my flat tires today. I promised Jake I’d meet him for dinner to discuss business. I assumed you were going, too.” Cullen’s face darkened. “No. I wasn’t invited.” “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess he had his reasons. I’m taking the preliminary report and putting it on the spreadsheet tonight. We can discuss it tomorrow.” “Sure,” said Cullen, his head buried back in his work. * * * When the door closed, Cullen threw the papers across the room. Damn Jake, the son-of-a-bitch. He can’t be up to any good. Cullen had never liked him, from the first handshake. Jake had been head of the tech department at Package Out when they had their own technical team within the company. Once Package Out hired Technical Solutions to take over all the technical work within their company, Package Out demoted Jake. Cullen was now head of Operations and Jake seemingly had accepted his downgrade. What a slap in the face to Jake. Cullen could feel Jake’s animosity spewing from every pore each time he talked to him. But Jake had brought the problems on himself. Narcissistic and selfcentered, Jake had experienced problems every time he ran a department. Everything had to be his way. His motto “Whatever It Takes” was stamped on his desk blotter, and Jake had to be right. He had surreptitiously and craftily turned one person against another, and one department against another. Cullen had figured it out long ago and was glad Jake was in a position now where he had to work in an isolated way and could no longer inflict such damage. A thought flashed through Cullen’s mind. He reached for the phone. “Kevin, can you check on something for me?” “Sure, Cullen.” “You know the list of security event logs we ran for Package Out? I need you to look up Jake Sanford’s administrative password and see if 71

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he used it around the time of the outages.” “Will do.” “Call me if you find anything. I’ll be working late.” And wishing I was with Rosemary. What a mom. He could tell from the way her voice had warmed when she talked about her kids that she was devoted. Which made her even more attractive to Cullen. But she’s with Jake. What are they doing? He couldn’t shake the dark feeling that came over him every time he thought about the guy. And he was certain it wasn’t just the fact the man was out with the woman of Cullen’s dreams. Something about Jake had a sinister feel. Cullen couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that crept into his bones and stayed. The phone rang. “Cullen here.” “Hey, bud, you’re a genius. Every time we’ve had an outage, Jake had a login to the system within three days before. He could’ve built a back door.” “That’s what I thought. Will you call security and have them change the service password for our team and a couple of the systems administrators you trust in Package Out. Have security put a twentyfour-hour monitor on Package Out servers and, when someone uses the wrong service password, I want it traced.” “Got it. We’re going to catch this dude and nail his coffin shut.”

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CHAPTER 7

Rosemary arrived at the hotel with approximately an hour to spare before her date. After opening the door with her card key, she noticed a slip of paper on the floor. Leaning down she picked it up and opened it, anticipating a note from the hotel. —— Your cunt is mine. I’ll have it this time. There will be power Within the hour. Look around you and you’ll see Everywhere you look, there will be me ’Tis you I’m going to fuck. I’ll hold on tight while I feel you buck… Your Secret admirer —— 73

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She screamed in frustration as she tore the paper to shreds and threw the scraps across the room like confetti. How did he know I was staying here? Rosemary wrapped her arms around her chest, feeling violated in a way so new to her. It must be someone who is following me, she thought. But who? She picked up the scraps left of the poem and placed it on the desk. Now she was determined to call the police as soon as she got back from supper. But, if she didn’t hurry, she would be late. * * * Jake picked Rosemary up at seven sharp. She was so glad Irma had insisted she bring some nice dresses along. Jake suggested they eat at Baby Doe Matchless Mine—a replica of the Matchless Mine in Leadville and known for its memorabilia of the era. He promised the panoramic view of city was fantastic. Her black low-cut, slinky dress fit the bill for such an upscale restaurant and made her feel sexy. Though Jake was not a person she wanted to feel sexy with. The rich meal hit the spot, made even better with the glass of pinot grigio. Jake, intelligent and interesting, touched on every subject imaginable, except work. Every time Rosemary brought up the outage problem, Jake changed the subject. Strange. This is supposed to be a business dinner. She was sure Package Out was footing the bill. After the waiter cleared the table, Jake said, “Would you like to dance?” Rosemary hesitated and looked at her watch. “I really have about three hours of work to do tonight, Jake, so I’ll take a rain check. I probably need to get back to my room.” At her hotel room door, Jake took her arm. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Rosemary stared him down. “For some coffee, I mean,” he sputtered. 74

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“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Jake. I have too much work to do. Thanks for the dinner, though,” Rosemary said, unlocking her door. Jake leaned in and brushed her cheek. Rosemary placed her hand on his chest and turned her head. Jake’s face contorted into anger. Through clenched teeth he asked, “Is it Blakely?” “No, it has nothing to do with Cullen. I have a policy against dating clients. No exceptions.” Bad blood must run cold between him and Cullen. She wondered why. A niggling feeling, a sense that something was off about Jake, pierced through Rosemary—in spite of his charming ways. A cold chill snaked up her spine. Jake shoved the door open and walked into her room. “Well, baby, if you think you can lead me on then just blow me off that easy, you’ve got another think coming. Where’s the pay off?” Confused, Rosemary entered the bedroom, but flipped the safety latch to prevent the door from closing all the way. Rosemary forced a calm she didn’t feel. “I’ve done nothing to lead you on, Jake. Now will you kindly leave my room before I have to call security?” Jake’s face crumpled into someone Rosemary didn’t recognize. An icy fear gripped her heart and blood pounded in her veins as the realization hit her—she was dealing with a psychopath. Suddenly, everything she’d learned about abnormal psychology from her term paper in Psych 101 came rushing back. A psychopath will put on an alluring front, making you think he or she has nothing but your best interest at heart. They will help you; guide you—all the way to the precipice—pouring on their charm while moving in for the kill. Jake clamped his hands around her wrists, pulling her to him and kissing her hard on the lips. She went numb, until the anger overtook her. She was being violated, forced to kiss this man against her will. His hands gripped her arms, digging into her skin, sending spikes of 75

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pain up to her shoulders. She tried to push away from him. He let her go for a moment and then slapped her hard, knocking her to the floor. He pulled her up to her knees by her hair and she screamed in pain. “It is time to pay for your cheating ways.” He had a fist of her hair in one hand and was unzipping the fly of his pants with the other. She struggled to stand, but he tightened his grip on her hair. “Don’t. I want you on your knees. I want those lips wrapped around my cock now.” * * * Cullen picked up the pace as he walked toward Rosemary’s room. He just had a bad feeling and it kept growing stronger every minute. The idea of Rosemary going out with Jake had never set well with him. He didn’t know if it was jealousy or just distrust of Jake. Showing up at her room would certainly look like he was checking up, but like a moth to a flame…he just couldn’t stay away. Before he rounded the next corner on her floor he heard a scream. Rosemary! His heart pounding, he bolted toward her room. Cullen burst in to find Rosemary struggling in Jake’s vise-grip, pleading with him to let her go. Jake had a crazed look in his eyes; all the whites exposed around the irises gave him a macabre look. Cullen saw red as he pulled Jake away from Rosemary and punched him in the mouth. Jake went down like a rock, but popped up and flew at Cullen like a raving maniac, knocking him down. They tumbled around on the floor, punching each other when opportunity availed. Rosemary picked up the phone and called security, then ran into the hall and called for help. One minute later, two hotel security guards barreled their way into the room and pulled Cullen and Jake apart. Rosemary rushed to Cullen and wrapped her arms around him, crying. She spoke to the security guards. “This man saved me. The other one attacked me.” 76

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“Would you like to press charges, ma’am?” “The bitch is lying,” Jake yelled. “She asked me in. She’s the worst kind of prick teaser.” Rosemary shook her head. “No…just please make him leave. I’ll tend to legalities later.” The guards took Jake off, each firmly clasping his arms. Once they were gone and the door securely locked behind them, Cullen took Rosemary in his arms and smoothed her hair away from her face. He could see the red imprint of Jake’s hand across her cheek. “How do you feel? Do you need some ice for your face?” “No, I’ll be okay. I just need you to hold me. To stay with me tonight. Do you mind?” “Mind? No, sweetheart. Let’s just lay down on the bed and you relax.” Rosemary fell into bed and laid her head on Cullen’s shoulder, giving in to pure exhaustion. * * * Hours later she awoke, looking up at him with pure adulation. She snuggled into him, kissing him on the cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for everything.” Cullen pressed his lips gently to hers and she responded by pressing her body closer to his. She wanted him as much as she could feel he wanted her. “You know I want you, Rosemary. I’m going to show you what it feels like to really be alive. Just let me make you feel good. I don’t want you to lift a finger. This one’s on me.” He undressed her slowly, caressing her as he went. He placed his knees inside her knees, stroking the length of her crotch with his hand. He opened her labia with his thumbs, and rubbed the nub of her clit gently, languorously. Rosemary felt no inhibitions, moaning with pleasure at the slightest touch, wishing this would never end. She could feel his delight in her, 77

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and it turned her on even more. He continued his magical strokes as he stretched out over her, taking her mouth with a force that took her breath away. He slipped his finger deep inside her, then moved his mouth down to suckle her breast. Gently nipping her bud with his teeth, his actions sent streaks of lightning down to her womb. He slowly moved down her stomach, kissing as he went, and replaced his finger with his hard, wet tongue. Hot spikes crackled through her blood, her hips made circles and ground into his mouth. He sat up, replacing his hand with hers. “Show me how you pleasure yourself, Rosemary, so I can know how to make you feel good.” Rosemary circled her hand around her clit, watching his erection grow even harder. She grabbed his penis and placed it where her hand had been, circling it around and up and down her crotch. “I want you inside of me, Cullen. I want you to fill me up.” “At your command, Queen Rosemary.” Cullen straddled her, lowering his penis gently into her vagina, inch by titillating inch, until he hit the back of her canal with the tip of his dick. And now she felt it, and thought she would explode. He moved deep inside her, thrusting in and out, hitting the spot again with every deep thrust. She was ready to come hard. “Now, Cullen. Oh, baby, you know just how to move. Oh, God, you feel so good. Please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” He entered her with one last thrust then came hard, his hot liquid warming her all the way to her soul. She wanted them to stay joined forever, limbs entwined with the sweet scent of fresh, hot sex. She woke to the warm, muscled body of Cullen pressed into her buttocks and his fingers playing with her nipples. She rose up, kneeling over him. She liked being on top, wielding her power over this glorious man. His penis sprung up like a jack-inthe-box. She stroked the top two inches with her hands, squeezing and releasing, then brought her mouth down over him, pulling his length 78

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down into her throat. Cullen groaned with pleasure, moving his pelvis into her face. She played with his balls while she nibbled the tip of his cock with her teeth. Without warning, he flipped her over, his hard body pinning her down with a force she’d never known. He spread her wet and willing lips with his fingers and entered her slowly, guiding his penis in, inch by inch, torturing her with wanting fulfillment. She could feel the tip hitting her g-spot every time he thrust—deeper, harder, his breathing increasing at the rate of his thrusts. “Oh, my God,” Rosemary screamed. “Cullen, I’m going over, baby. Here I go.” “Go for it, baby. All over me. That’s a girl. I’m going right behind you. Yes, oh, Rosemary, yes.” Cullen let out a roar that sounded like a bear that had found its mate. Rosemary gasped for breath. For a minute she thought she was floating on the ceiling, like an out of body experience. Then she collapsed into him. They huddled in each other’s arms until the alarm went off and Cullen went back to his room to shower and change clothes before they both had to be back at work. * * * Cullen was sitting downstairs in their hotel eating breakfast when Rosemary walked into the dining room. “How are you feeling this morning?” Concern etched his expression. “My jaw is a little sore, but other than that, fine.” She sat down at the table with him and had half a bagel and a large cup of coffee before they left for work. “What are you going to do about Jake?” Rosemary sighed. “I don’t know, Cullen. That’s all I have thought about this morning. I’ll let you know when I make a decision.” 79

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“I’ll back you with what ever you decide.” She laid her hand on top of his. “Thank you. I mean that.” They left the hotel in separate rental cars for the Package Out complex. * * * The minute Rosemary walked into the conference room, Cullen closed the door behind her and she heard the click of the door lock. He drew her close to him, leaning down to place his perfectly splendid lips square on hers. His tongue probed her mouth, long and hard, and she could feel his heart pounding through his chest, pressed firm against hers. He moved his head around to nibble her ear. “I’ve missed you, Rosemary.” “Cullen, it’s only been twenty minutes.” She giggled. Rosemary’s body melted into his arms. What a relief not to have to fight it any longer. They wanted and needed each other. He lifted her and placed her on the conference table and she could feel his erection between her legs. He kissed her long, hard and deep, and the excitement returned to her loins, soaking her panties with her juices. She unzipped his pants and released his hard, throbbing penis, stroking it and rubbing the drops of semen over the head. He moved her panties over to the side and she guided his shaft in her thrumming cave, ready for him to take her to the stars. Rosemary kept her fingers around him, feeling the slick length of him as he drew in and out of her with amazing strength. She could feel her passion climbing the wall, as the fullness left her totally satisfied, even before she came. Her body melted into his. She could no longer tell where she left off and Cullen began. Her breathing came hard as she groped his firm buttocks, and she was over the top, washed in the hot lava of his fluid. His eyes never left her face. This felt so right—like the pieces of her life had finally come together as a whole—with Cullen in the center. 80

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They fell in each other’s arms and gasped for breath. He adjusted their clothes and took her back in his arms for a nice, long hug. “I feel like I know you so well, Rosemary. Like I’ve always known you. Like I’ve never known anyone else in my life.” * * * The phone interrupted the magic of the moment and Cullen picked up. “Hey, bud, Kevin here,” he heard. “Good news. Jake tried to log in last night from the office and then from his home. Security documented the evidence. They sent the police over to his house right away. He’s nailed.” “Good work. Thanks.” “Evidently sabotage is not his only game. His apartment walls were papered with pictures of Rosemary. Police found love letters to her on his computer of the pornographic sort. I’ll let you have the honor of telling her the news.” Cullen hung up the phone, relieved Jake had been exposed and caught, but stunned at his obsession with Rosemary. This man was a dangerous psycho. Cullen placed his hands behind his neck and leaned back in his chair. * * * Rosemary watched, waiting for him to tell her about the phone call. “Well, what’s up?” “We caught our hacker.” Rosemary felt a surge of relief. “Thank God. Who is it?” “You’re not going to believe it. Jake Sanford is the culprit.” “No! Really?” “The evidence is in. Jake’s our man. He’ll be spending a few years behind bars, no doubt.” Rosemary sat stunned before her mind suddenly cleared. Her instincts had known it all along. Jake was mentally ill. Maybe now he would get the help he really needed. And he would no longer pose a 81

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threat to her. She slowly looked up at Cullen. He took her hand and led her out of the conference room. “I’m taking you out for brunch. A new start for a new life—for both of us. And I’m not just talking about our jobs, Rosemary. I’m talking about us as in a relationship, as in long term. As in a life sentence, no chance at parole.” Rosemary looked at him and didn’t say a word. She leaned up and kissed him tenderly, running her hand gently over the scar on the right side of his cheek. Then she took his hand and they walked to breakfast. A new day. A new life. With Cullen. All the sex and love she could ever want and more. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Cullen. Do you like kids?” “Yes,” he said, and smiled. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking five is a good number. Since you’ve got a jump-start on me with three, I thought we’d still have time enough to add two more to the batch before we retire.” Cullen smiled at her again—a smile that warmed Rosemary all the way to her soul—a smile she knew would stay there for a long, long time.

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VELVET VEERS

Velvet Veers divides her time between homes in Texas, Louisiana, and Minnesota. She has been writing for ten years, has published three books under different pen names, and written two screenplays, one of which has been optioned by a major independent film production company. She has contracted three separate trilogies of e-novellas for Amber Quill Press’s “Amber Heat” imprint: Companionship, Inc., Virtual Fantasy, Inc., and Road Warriors, Inc. A new title will appear each month, beginning in June 2003! Velvet has undergraduate degrees in business and psychology and a master degree in counseling. She loves to read, run, ride Gold-Wing motorcycles, snow ski, travel and write. She has six children, three dogs and two cats. She loves to hear from her readers, so please visit her web site at: http://www.velvetveers.com

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Don’t miss Virtual Fantasy, Inc.: Book II: Stake Out, by Velvet Veers, available Fall, 2003, from Amber Quill Press, LLC

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