Pleasure Island. Lorie O'Clare
and walked over to the computer where I kept my logs on each model.
The Adams were my first attempt, and didn’t have human faces or the ability to speak. I admitted, as I stared down at one of them and brushed my knuckles over his skinlike cheek, I’d come a long way in mastering a human nose. Nonetheless, when these Adams were “brought to life” they were a mile marker in robotics.
I remember that day like it was yesterday, and my excitement when they sat up on a table so similar to this one and walked over to the counter and poured a glass of water and brought it to me. Without the aid of a remote. My staff at the time applauded my efforts, and the next day I was on the front pages of all the national newspapers in France.
“The beginning of the end,” I grumbled bitterly, returning my attention to my computer.
The last thing I expected to be doing for the next decade was mastering my creations and creating companions to offer sexual pleasure.
I typed in quick notes on their latest malfunction, hopping up several times to confirm which wires cross circuited, and then kicked back in front of the computer.
There were several blogs I kept an eye on, mainly my competitors and what they were up to these days. Sometimes spending so many years on this island made it easy to forget the rest of the world was out there. I’m not vain, not at all, but I don’t want to hear that someone is getting the better of me and coming out with something that I haven’t thought of yet.
A box popped up in front of the Web site I was looking at and I groaned.
“I don’t like her,” the instant-message box read, and the statement was followed by a link. Rose wouldn’t leave me alone even when she was on the other side of the island.
I clicked on the link without responding and watched as it quickly opened in front of me. The link was to an article about a law firm in Chicago that had successfully won a lawsuit for a medical supply company that we used. I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hands and read about Green, Green and Albert, Attorneys at Law. It didn’t surprise me that Rose wouldn’t like our new guest, without even bothering to get to know her. Rose didn’t like anyone who she viewed as competition, and any pretty lady arriving on the island, Rose viewed as a threat.
“It doesn’t even mention her name,” I said out loud and brought the blog I’d been scanning back up in front of the chat box. Devlin Products was still boasting their latest personality chip. I clicked a few more links, searching where I could to learn how far they’d come with it. “Not even close, my friends,” I said, admitting relief and satisfaction when I leaned back in my chair, clasping my hands behind my head and grinning at the screen. “My Adams are still better than anything you’ve got.”
Rose’s chat box started flashing. I wouldn’t have acknowledged it but the word “robot” was visible from behind the blog.
“Check this out. Another of our new arrivals, James Martin, did a paper for this scientific journal on robots. I did a search on his name and it came up.”
Rose loved investigating all of her guests, probably as soon as their money cleared the bank.
Ignoring Rose when she sent another message, I focused on finishing my log entry on the Adams. Then standing and stretching, I headed over to the window that looked out over the courtyard between the few buildings that were my world: the warehouse to my left and the dorms where the companions stayed to the right.
I watched two of my companions walk from the dormitory to the warehouse, more than likely headed over to finish the work that the Adams weren’t able to finish.
I hated the thought of shutting down my Adams. They weren’t perfect, but it wasn’t their fault. Watching Adrian and Phillip disappear into the warehouse, I didn’t need to see more to know they’d have the task the Adams were doing done in minutes. Unloading the boxes of supplies that arrived in the cargo area of the plane that brought our guests to the island kept the Adams busy. It was grunt work. But work they could do.
Staring past my buildings to the mountain that blocked my view of Rose’s mansion, I considered going back to the warehouse and dealing with the Adams later. “Probably wouldn’t be a bad idea,” I mumbled to myself, glancing at the clock and noting that it would be lunchtime soon. If Maggie was anything, she was a damned good cook, and word had it she was making enchiladas for lunch. I’d check in on Adrian and Phillip in the warehouse, go over the inventory list to make sure everything I’d ordered showed up, and double-check to make sure all the companions up at the mansion were behaving themselves with our guests.
I certainly wasn’t going back to the warehouse and the monitoring screens to check out our new guest, Miss Green, the lawyer. I wasn’t a voyeur, and I didn’t care how she looked while fucking Tomas and Nicolas at the same time.
5
Natalie
T omas stretched out next to me. Nicolas was on the other side of me. I looked down and saw their legs brush against each other. Their arms almost touched as they reached for me. But neither of them seemed to notice that they were so close to each other. All of their attention was on me.
God. I would pay willingly for this much attention from two gorgeous men every day—if I had that kind of money.
Which I didn’t.
“I’m going to remember every minute of these two weeks,” I murmured, letting my head fall back on thick long pillows.
“That’s the idea.” Nicolas brushed his fingers over my belly and looked up at me with very dark brown eyes.
My tummy fluttered, even though his touch was casual. I couldn’t believe how swollen and wet my pussy felt. It throbbed harder than the rest of me, making me feel like part of me had taken on a life of its own.
“I have a confession.” My two studs for hire might as well know the truth about me now. “I’ve never been with two men before.”
“How flattering.” Tomas’s sandy blond hair parted at an angle over his head. A wavy strand fell over his broad forehead, making him look rather roguish. “You seem very relaxed with us. We must be doing something right.”
I made a rather humiliating snorting sound, a forced laugh that I never gave much thought to when I was at work. But right now, it seemed so unladylike and unattractive. It amazed me that neither man’s expression changed. They adored me, and stared at me like I truly was a sex goddess. It was like they were the ones paying for time with me, and wanted to enjoy every minute of my perfection.
Except I was far from perfect.
“You two are doing everything right. I’m the one who’s the dunce.”
“Then you’re the sexiest dunce I’ve ever seen,” Nicolas muttered, his deep baritone scraping over my already raw and sensitive flesh.
“Now I know you’re paid to say that.”
“Nope.” Nicolas looked so serious I almost believed him.
“Okay. You’re right.” I thought I understood his point. “This is a fantasy, a living fantasy. I should quit thinking about money, or how I really look, or any of my imperfections.”
“Money doesn’t matter. And as for your imperfections, if that is what you’re focusing on right now, you must be getting really bored.” Tomas leaned into me, nipping at my lip. “Sweetheart, I don’t see any imperfections.”
“You’re right. I’m perfect,” I whispered, smiling as I relaxed against the bed. Who wouldn’t feel perfect with all this attention?
I closed my eyes, feeling every inch of me tingle and let him kiss me. When Nicolas found my breast and began suckling me, I jumped. But Tomas gripped my shoulder, pressing me farther into the large stuffed pillow behind my head, and deepened the kiss.
Their hands were everywhere, caressing and stroking me until a fire that started between my legs