Her Alpha Lover: A Draken and Charli Boxed Set (23 page)

She didn't say:
Fetish? You're my only real fetish, mister. I might get wet when I'm embarrassed, but you're the one that makes me insane.

But Draken shook his head. "I have four minutes before I need to head back for the next candidate's session. No time even for a suckoff."

"Delayed gratification will be good for you," she declared.

"Bullshit," he bit out, rising. "Now get back out there, woman."

"Where? Oh, back in the auditorium?" she asked. "But I―I'm disgusting. All wet and slimy. Without any panties, thanks to you. I have to wash―"

"No. Let everyone smell how capably the Robasm works on you." He guided her out of the room with his hand at her waist. "Not that they don't already know, after watching your face for the last hour. You remember we're announcing our decision at six, Ms. Fontina. If you want the job, you'll be there."

"Maybe I don't care if I get it, Mr. Almatto." She lifted her chin. "My coworker is here. Are you hearing me? My
coworker
. She's a gossip. I'll never live this down. I mean, what could be worse PR than this? It'll destroy my career."

"I know about Nancy Jackson," he said dismissively. "I've already had Matthew come to a confidentiality agreement with her. Your worries are unnecessary, trust me."

"Even so," she said. "The job isn't exactly...it's not exactly what I thought. I mean, trade shows? Seriously? Isn't there some law about public obscenity or something?"

"Oh, we have ways," Draken said, waving a hand. His brow rose mockingly. "You don't want it? You don't want to dance on Mr. Robasm with your happy pussy in full view of hundreds, maybe thousands of people?"

Damn, being with this man was decadent. He was such a degenerate.

You're even worse. You're the one getting wet at the idea.

Charli cupped her cheeks with her hands and took a deep, fortifying breath. "I didn't say that either," she said at last. "If I took the job, would you―I mean, would you be working with me? Or..."

"With you? Yes. With anyone else? I have no idea. But don't assume you're special, Ms. Fontina. You're just a―"

"Fuck toy," she interrupted crossly.

"Correct. And it's not a commitment, my being there. I meant hypothetically I'd try to be there at least at first. As time went on, though...I make no promises."

"Because you're planning to lose interest in me soon," she gritted.

"Very soon." He smacked her ass. "You handled today with stellar aplomb. But Monday may surprise you."

She groaned. "That's sore, you bastard."

Just as if he really did own her, he flipped up her skirt as they walked through a doorway and whistled. "Your reddened ass might just be the eighth wonder of the world, Ms. Fontina. I wish Matthew could see it now."

"No, you don't," she said with sudden acute understanding. "You're just saying that to t
―
turn me on."

He bared his teeth at her. "I knew she was a bright one. Remember, I expect you to stay pre-orgasmic for the rest of the time until we see you Monday."

"How will you know, now that you've―now that I've been assaulted by a slew of orgasms?"

He stared at her for several seconds. "Very simple, Ms. Fontina. I expect hourly reports between the hours of seven a.m. and eleven p.m. by text."

She came to a halt. "
Reports
. On what, may I ask?" she said disbelievingly.

"On the state of your clit. Describe it to me. How stiff it is, how wet it is. And those exercises you did last night with the finger teasing? You'll do them every night before bed and send me screen shots of your pussy before and after so I can see your progress."

"Fuck you," she said weakly.

"Not," he growled, "for three more days."

***

Charli wanted to huddle by herself at the back of the auditorium for the next couple of hours while the last two candidates were seen.

Unfortunately, cowering wasn't possible. She was never left alone for a minute. She was quizzed by nearly every individual there at one point or another. Throughout the video feeds of the remaining blonde and the brunette, it was Charli, and not the display screen, that was the center of attention. Clearly Charli had become the star of the Robasm show and nobody could compete.

It was madness. She was asked if she was a nymphomaniac. She was offered help for sexual addiction. She was propositioned by people of every gender and gender combination imaginable.

But most of all, she was asked how long she had been dating Draken Almatto. Whether she and Draken were engaged. And Draken stayed away the whole time, the loser.

It was worse than humiliating. It was sheer aggravation. She rapidly tired of saying, "I'm sorry, but I have no comment."

Right when she was about ready to just burst out with, "I'm just the man's fuck toy, you bitches, go away already," Matthew strolled over to her and began steering people away.

The only person who really left her alone was Elizabeth. Elizabeth was too busy avoiding Matthew. She didn't even make a pretense of it. When he approached, she walked away.

Yet when Draken Almatto finally returned at five minutes before six, trotting directly up to the stage with Gordon Howing, Charli found herself gravitating toward Elizabeth, and Elizabeth nodded at her wryly.

"Well, we're still here," Charli said, sighing.

"Yes, and I can't for the life of me figure out why," Elizabeth said glumly. "No amount of money is worth that."

Charli wondered what "that" was for Elizabeth. Losing control, she guessed. While for Charli, the big difficulty in performing with the Robasm was having so many people
witness
her losing control.

She nodded. "It's those men."

"Hmm. You're right. Those men."

"I'm truly hurt," said an injured-sounding masculine voice.

They both turned around. Matthew didn't look hurt. He looked like he could eat up Elizabeth's face. "You've been avoiding me," he accused softly.

Elizabeth jerked. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Why? You were exquisite, darling. How did you like coming for the first time? I very much wanted to be there with you the first time, you know."

Charli watched in fascination as Elizabeth's pale face got a blotchy flush in the centers of her cheeks.

"Go away," she said. "You reek of perfume."

Matthew finally looked ruefully at Charli. "Stubborn," he said. "You were splendid, Ms. Fontina. Absolutely phenomenal. Made me want to buy one for each of my roommates."

But you didn't have to go hunt down Sally after my performance like you did with Elizabeth's
, Charli wanted to point out.

"Your girlfriends, you mean," Elizabeth snorted.

The microphone screeched and Charli faced forward again, her heart pounding. She was oddly nervous, as if she really cared about the outcome of the group's decision. Draken looked comfortable and casual up on stage, his auburn hair tousled. His forearms, exposed by his rolled-up shirt sleeves, bulged with muscle. As for his pants...

No erection. Well, of course. He could hardly walk up in front of all these people with a blatant hard-on. She wondered how he'd managed it. Mental discipline? Or had he taken care of it himself - or did he have assistance?

Did he have his own Sally in the building?

"All right, everyone," Draken's deep voice boomed via the mic. "Without further ado, I'd like to welcome Elizabeth Armitage-Gauthier and Charli Fontina to our demo team. Ladies, we look forward to working with you. Jeannie, Loren, and Babs, thanks for auditioning today―we'd love to have you back when we start another round of testing.

"I'd also like to thank ATJ's incredibly diligent research team for working their asses off to get Mr. Robasm ready for the demo today. Though some of you may think designing a sex robot is no hardship―"―this sparked general laughter―"what they've managed to do here is astounding. Our humble sex toy is a product of the human resources of eight countries, and the implication of the technologies we've developed will go far beyond what you've seen in this room. Every time the world makes advances in robotics, we make strides toward a revolution in AI technology that promises to improve our quality of life in significant ways.

"So that's it. I hope you'll all spread the word, while still remembering the confidentiality agreements you signed. Press guys―I'm talking to you. Our new demo ladies' identities are off-limits. Right?"

"Right, Draken," came a couple of shouts from the audience.

"I'll be around for the next―" Draken looked at his watch―"forty-five minutes to take questions. Thanks for coming today, everyone."

And with that, Draken was surrounded. Charli gathered up her things and said good-bye to Elizabeth. Matthew was busy aiding Draken, so she didn't interrupt him, though she had about a thousand questions. A few people tried to talk to her―presumably the press people―but she managed to pry herself out of there.

Her phone buzzed just as she reached for the door handle of her car.

Draken Almatto: Congrats.

Charli Fontina: Thanks. I think. I didn't actually accept the position, you know.

Draken Almatto: A technicality. Look for the contract to sign. It's being delivered by messenger tomorrow.

Charli Fontina: Great.

Draken Almatto: You'll love it, baby.

Draken Almatto: Don't forget. Tonight. Texts and pics.

Draken Almatto: Also don't forget to update your profile to "Taken"

Charli Fontina: I may. Or I may not.

Draken Almatto: It's not optional.

Charli Fontina: Bastard.

Charli Fontina: Oh, I was wondering. What are you going to do to ease your frustration? Do you have a Sally?

Draken Almatto: Ah. That's what's got your panties in a bunch.

Draken Almatto: I have a few dozen Sallies. As does Matthew, BTW. You keep underestimating him.

Charli Fontina: Fuck you.

Draken Almatto: Best not till Monday, darling. See you then.

♥

You tell me: Should I write more of Charli and Draken's story?

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-
Amanda Richensexi