All The Queen's Men (Fantasy Heights) (2 page)

Lisa made a small sound, betraying a peak in arousal. Amanda hummed against her, eliciting a louder, more frantic-sounding cry. The rocking sped up.

Ben took total advantage of the upswing, pressing himself the rest of the way into Amanda. He doubled the pace and pressure of the strokes with his thumb.

Again Amanda translated it onto Lisa’s clit, feeling her client begin to buck just a second before the pressure of Ben’s cock drew her into orgasm again. Her inner muscles went crazy with one of those jittery, stuttering releases that bloomed through her like a rinse of pure, warm water.

She heard Ben breathe out a note of strained resistance. He pressed his thumb against her even harder, deepening the force of its strokes. The contact restarted the orgasm with a vengeance. Then he groaned out a frustrated note as he tried to still his thrusts.

“No,” Lisa told him. “Don’t you dare stop. If it feels good, come. I want to see you come.”

Amanda moaned her agreement against Lisa’s pussy, and the woman cried out a sharp note of laughter followed by a long, throaty, delightfully devious-sounding giggle.

God, she wished her hands were free. She wanted to grab onto Lisa and force her farther down. Penetrate her ass and her pussy and grind against her clit until she screamed for mercy. But she couldn’t move. She was powerless to do anything but renew her efforts with her tongue while Ben drove into her with that beautiful cock. Amanda hummed against Lisa, the pitch climbing until Ben strained into orgasm and his cock began to pulse.

Maybe it was the pitch that did it, or possibly the sight of Ben finally coming. Lisa squealed out a high note of pleasure that only subsided once Kevin approached to pull her away.

Amanda relaxed and grabbed the opportunity to catch her breath while Kevin dragged them all back onto the script. He ordered Lisa to put the strap-on back on while he got onto his hands and knees beside Amanda.

Ben came around to undo Amanda’s wrists and elbow restraints. She wished he’d take the blindfold off, too, but no such luck. At least her hands were free now. She reached underneath Kevin to play with his cock.

She heard Kevin’s breathy moan of pleasure when Lisa took his butt plug out. Amanda clutched and stroked, ardently listening to the sounds they made. She could feel the halting rhythm while Kevin tried to control his body as his wife began to penetrate him from behind.

Ben spoke softly, soothing Kevin, telling Lisa when to move and when to be still. “Put your hand right here on the small of his back,” he directed. “Get some lube on your thumb. Yep, there you go. Now put the tip of your thumb here where you can feel his muscles stretching around the dildo’s shaft. That way you can tell when he tenses up or relaxes for you. Just go slow. Give him plenty of time to adjust.”

Amanda could feel the penetration if not in actuality, in the sudden increase in Kevin and Lisa’s tension. There was a delay while Lisa unexpectedly veered off into a loud, prolonged orgasm. Lisa, who usually had no trouble telling them exactly what she wanted and when she wanted it, suddenly couldn’t manage more than meaningless, breathless stammers.

Ben said, “It’s okay. Catch your breath for a second. When you’re ready again, press it in, then pull it out. Real slow.”

Amanda felt Kevin’s cock harden and swell the more Ben talked that way. He liked the anticipation. And Kevin, like Amanda, enjoyed being the prop. She could hear the soft edge of a moan on his every breath. He was completely at the mercy of sensation.

He held out like a trooper. Lisa came once more before Kevin finally asked, his voice a low gasp, for Amanda to knead the tip of his cock. She and Lisa worked in concert to prolong the play, drawing his climax out into one of those breathless, locked-muscle clenchers that left him shaky and silent except for the panting.

Then it was only soft murmurs as they unbound Amanda. She was very careful to keep things cool with Kevin and Lisa. Both of them wanted to kiss her, trade affectionate touches, and she went along carefully. For once, she didn’t feel that clinging, mindless need to linger. She worried that Lisa might try to keep her in play while the pair stayed on set to give Lisa a turn in the restraints.

Lisa did ask if Amanda could stay. Ben was firm, but not unkind. He would stay behind, but it was time for Amanda to go.

She hurried to shower and dress, wishing needs hadn’t dictated what she would wear next. The black capris and fitted t-shirt hardly lent her a professional, invulnerable appearance to hide behind.

The moment she stepped into the hallway, Thomas materialized at her side.

Even though she had seen him in the Fantasy Heights security uniform earlier that day, he still looked out of place. He was standing in for Jerod Hughes, who had inexplicably resigned the day before.

Thomas’s black eye, too, was a jolt. Not that it mattered, really. The man was still gorgeous, all lean muscle and dark, hot appeal.

He propelled her into motion and she fell into step as he spoke quietly. “He’s ready for you.”

Amanda felt her stomach roll over. This would be her fourth time in questioning regarding Derek, Nicole and Ridley. She couldn’t say she’d enjoyed local law enforcement’s interrogation. Or the police from Arizona, or the Washington Bureau’s field agents, either. Yet today’s contender would be the worst by far. This time, District Attorney Gregory Hughes—father of Jerod Hughes, Fantasy Height’s former security chief—waited inside the Accord’s conference room.

Mr. Hughes might not be the enemy, but he was still extremely dangerous: He was a father who believed they were hiding something about his son. They were unsure in which capacity—father or lawyer—he had come today. Having failed to pry anything out of Thomas or Josh earlier, he meant to take a run at her instead.

She could see the flicker of strain overshadow Thomas. He said, “No matter what, remember he’s one of the good guys. A friend. Are you sure you can handle him?”

Despite the mountain lion chewing away at her gut and nerves, she borrowed one of Josh’s favorite tricks and managed to sound bland and self-assured. “Stop worrying.”

“Don’t underestimate him. He knows all about this place and everyone in it. Including me. And don’t assume he can be reasonable or even rational when his son is AWOL.”

She stopped walking to take hold of Thomas’s upper arms. She pulled him close to whisper. “Why won’t you tell me where Jerod is?”

“I swear to you, I don’t know. All I know anymore is at the end of the day, that little shit will always be looking out for number one.”

She leaned back to look at him. He didn’t move. Only his eyes tracked her, though the rest of him remained tuned into her as if she were his true north.

God, he was difficult. She could tell he was worried, but she still couldn’t tell whether he was lying when he claimed he knew nothing of Jerod’s whereabouts.

She said, “When you told me I’d have to do things I might not like, I never dreamed it would be anything like this. And we might be doing the right thing, but I hate this plan. What if something goes wrong? If anything happens to you…”

His rigid posture softened. “The worst will be over by the time you leave that interview. Be ready. I’ll send someone to bust you out when it’s time.”

She tucked down into the security corridors, travelling between The Menagerie and the Accord offices. Her fate awaited in a conference room where a lone man sat at the head of a long faux maple table.

Seeing her, District Attorney Gregory Hughes immediately rose to his feet. He must be nearing sixty, and that afternoon, he looked his age. Tense lines etched deep into his skin, giving her a momentary impression that he was slowly shattering from the inside out. Of a studious and world-weary countenance, he regarded her with bright blue eyes that radiated distrust.

Not off to a great start, she thought. And though bothered to know Jerod’s father didn’t trust her, she felt sympathy for the man. His son had resigned yesterday and hadn’t been seen since. No one knew for certain whether Jerod had left under his own steam. In Mr. Hughes’s place, Amanda would be stern and distrustful, too.

“Mr. Hughes.” She shook his proffered hand. “How nice to finally meet you.”

His well-mannered response came out flat, free of inflection. “Likewise, I’m sure. Jerod and Thomas have told me a lot about you. Won’t you sit down?”

He waited until she was seated across from him.

“Here’s my plan,” Hughes said. “I’d like to go over everything that’s happened since Ridley and Derek were found. Perhaps talk about a couple events in the days leading up to it. Understand that you are not a suspect in Derek’s death, nor are you currently under investigation in connection to any other crime.”

On the outside, she nodded her understanding. On the inside, every cell gulped in unison.

Mr. Hughes brought out a small digital recorder. After pressing a button or two, he placed it on the table between them.

Her eyes strayed to the legal pad near the lawyer’s elbows. She saw her name scrawled in the margin above a long list of others: Kara. Brent. Phillip. Josh. Thomas. Yvette. Mercury. Marla. Scott. Ridley. Nicole. Derek. Steph. Jerod.

She took a deep breath and let it out. Formidable list. Fourteen names. Countless landmines and secrets.

Mr. Hughes primed the recording with the day’s date and the time of their interview. Then he began. “We’ll start with the night of the Three Sisters Ball, after you and Thomas were called down to the Accord offices. You had just heard the news about Derek and Ridley. Thomas and Max were about to leave for the airport when Kara came in. I understand she was quite upset. Tell me what happened.”

Amanda leaned back in her chair. She rested an elbow on the armrest and pressed the bridge of her nose. She could feel her face turning red. Feel the sting of Kara’s fingers connecting with her cheek.

Mr. Hughes prodded, “Miss Tate?”

“It wasn’t Kara’s fault.”

“No one’s talking about blame. When I talked to Kara, she mentioned an incident before the Parlor Game. Tell me what happened from your point of view.”

Amanda knew the exact incident in question. “When I was in wardrobe that night, she asked me if I knew why Derek and Ridley had been replaced. I told her I did know why, and asked if I could tell her afterward.”

It had been an instinctual response. She liked Kara and hadn’t wanted to lie, but in hindsight, a denial might have been wiser.

Kara had misunderstood. When word had reached her that Derek was dead and Ridley had been drugged into permanent incoherence, Kara had jumped to the wrong conclusion. She’d tracked Amanda and Thomas into the Accord offices. She’d accused Amanda of being one of the enemy operatives, and went on the attack, flying at her in an outburst of fury and despair.

“Hmph,” Mr. Hughes responded. “That’s funny. Kara’s explanation was much longer. Much more detailed.”

His slippery approach to a touchy subject poked at Amanda’s temper. “Mr. Hughes, I can see Brent’s name is next on your list, and I know where you’re headed. If you want to ask me about Derek and Brent and that stupid interrogation, please just ask.”

“Okay, fine. Tell me what happened on that set, and how Kara might have gotten the wrong idea about you.”

Kara wasn’t the only one who might have gotten the wrong idea, but if the rest of this interview followed this initial volley’s tone, Amanda felt sure they would get to the rest, later. Hughes knew everything already. He was overturning all the most dangerous rocks to see her response to whatever crawled out.

Amanda explained the interrogation fantasy’s setup, the script, and her part in it. “I had no idea at the time that it wasn’t really a fantasy. I also had no idea that while I was on set, Derek was on a laptop trying to hack the DriveRate server with the codes Brent gave him. Brent is still out there somewhere. To him, it must have looked like I was working with Derek. God knows how it looked to Derek when I completed that chart for him. And then all of this stuff going on with Steph breaking rules and skipping steps to hire me… Kara is at the center of everything that happens in this place. People spend a lot of time in her chair and hanging around her office, and everyone likes to chitchat. I’m sure I’ve been a rich source of gossip.”

Mr. Hughes didn’t answer. He watched her for a moment with one brow poised somewhere between confusion and skepticism. “Back to the interrogation fantasy. I understand Ridley filed a complaint?”

“She claimed that a voyeurism client paid to watch me and Derek. But Ben saw Ridley leave the observation booth with Nicole, not a client. Ben believes Ridley lied about a client seeing us so that her complaint would have some teeth. We don’t really know why Nicole was there. We probably never will.”

The District Attorney made a low scoffing sound. “Not to speak ill, but Ridley did love to stir people up.”

Amanda didn’t know how to respond to that. She sat quietly, watching the DA mull something over.

Finally, he focused on his list and drew a line through Kara’s name. Next to Brent’s name he wrote
DRO#1
.

It took Amanda a moment to decipher his code.
DriveRate operative number one
.

Rubbing
a stubbly chin, Hughes stared at the list for a long, silent moment before moving on to the next name. Phillip. “Right after Kara attacked, that was about the time Phillip Irving collapsed, correct?”

“Yeah. While everyone was busy yelling and trying to get Kara calmed down, Phillip just sort of melted to the floor.”

“Did he seem strange to you beforehand? Anything worrisome?”

She thought about it, and remembered making Phillip sit down before he could fall down. “Yes. He was very pale. Kind of wobbly.”

“Did you have any inkling at the time that he might have been drugged?”

She sucked her teeth, feeling renewed anger bite away at her insides. She still could not believe the cruelty of their enemy. How needlessly, guiltlessly destructive they could be. Or how terrifyingly deceptive. “None. No clue whatsoever.”

“You sound ashamed.”

How was she supposed to sound? Delighted? Matter-of-fact? Intrigued that these DriveRate thugs felt free to drug anyone they wanted to control?