Virtual Love (Sexy Alpha Male Romance) Read online

  How could she get out of here? She tried to concentrate on her real body, to will herself to pull the VR connection from her head, but she couldn't do it. His e-scape was as real as hers. More real than any she'd seen on the market. She could sense nothing but the computer-created reality around her. It almost seemed more real than life itself.

  "If you're going to keep running, that skirt should go."

  She swung around at his voice. He grabbed the sides of her skirt and tugged. The fabric tore away, revealing a white petticoat.

  Her gaze darted around the room, searching for somewhere to run, all the while knowing it was futile. Behind Phantom, she saw heavily-carved furnishings in dark, glossy mahogany and heavy brocades of rich burgundy. A dresser, a chaise lounge… a bed.

  Four poster with a canopy. Gold fringe edged the dark satiny fabric.

  "Where would I run?" she asked, turning to face him again. "As you said, this is your domain. You control every path."

  "That's right." He raised one eyebrow. "But if you'd like to have a chase scene, I can make it interesting."

  She scowled.

  "I'm sure you can. But I don't feel like playing cat and mouse."

  He stepped closer and stroked his finger across her cheek. She refused to flinch, from his touch or her reaction to it.

  "What do you feel like, Jerette?" He murmured the words low in his throat.

  She had to fight the urge to lean forward and nuzzle the hollow at the base of his neck.

  His hands cupped her shoulders. "What do you want?"

  His gaze shifted to the bed and so did hers. Part of her wanted to stretch out on that bed and open to him. To draw him into her body. And into her soul.

  He smiled and a wicked gleam lit his eyes. Her eyes widened. Oh, God, he was reading her thoughts again.

  His mouth came crashing down on hers in a pleasurable assault. Her brain seemed scrambled into inaction as his lips caressed hers and his tongue eased past her lips. Her tongue nestled into his, then followed the dance he led. His arms slipped around her and pulled her close. Her arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer still as she lost herself in their fierce kiss. Her breasts, crushed against his chest, ached. The nipples felt like they'd explode if she didn't release them from their prison.

  "Here, let me." Phantom's fingers slipped under the neckline of her gown and tore open the bodice and undergarment in one swift motion.

  Her breasts, bare and swollen, longed for his touch. He scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

  "Jerette. My love." He kissed her, keeping her head reeling with the rising passion flooding through every part of her.

  He lay her down and started kissing her neck. Tingles rippled the length of her spine. Her groin tightened painfully, demanding something she'd never granted.

  No. I can't.

  He smiled, clearly knowing she could barely hear that tiny voice inside her and intent on keeping her too busy to care.

  He cupped her breast and she moaned softly, then he covered her other nipple with his mouth. He cajoled the tip with his tongue. Sharp need spiked through her groin. She wanted him inside her. Filling her.

  His tongue lapped across her nipple and she groaned. He covered both breasts with his hands and kissed a path down her stomach. He dipped into her navel then continued lower.

  Panic welled up in her. What was she doing? His palms caressed her breasts and intense pleasure flooded her senses. She groaned and tried to grasp at sanity again. She couldn't go along with this. He rubbed his thumbs across her nipples.

  Oh, God, it felt so good.

  His tongue lapped across her lower belly then his fingers dipped under the fabric of her petticoat, then across the sensitive flesh underneath. The demanding need in her groin halted her rising protests. What would it feel like to have him inside her?

  In a split-second, she knew. His finger slipped inside and stroked her. Oh, Lord, it felt wonderful. Every sense seemed to shimmer to ultra-high sensitivity. He stroked again, this time finding her clitoris.

  "Ohhhh," she moaned.

  He stroked again, with a sweet gentleness that jolted through her along with the pleasure.

  "Jerette, enjoy it. Let it carry you away."

  "No."

  He stroked again.

  "Yes." The word strangled from her depths.

  He dipped in further and found a spot deep inside her that tore free any hope she had of resisting him.

  "Phantom. What are you doing to me?"

  He kissed her between the breasts, then propped up on one elbow and gazed deep into her eyes.

  "I'm giving you pleasure."

  He held her gaze as he moved his finger inside her. Stroking, flicking, twirling. She closed her eyes as the need built to an intolerable pleasure, then opened them again. He still watched her. She could not look away. As their gazes remained locked, she rose on a tide of passion. Her pulse raced and she gulped for breath. She moaned as the intensity blossomed.

  "Oh, God."

  As she neared a release she knew would be spectacular, Phantom covered her mouth with his. The delicious pleasure of his kiss triggered the cataclysm of bliss, plummeting her over the edge. As she fell, she clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

  His finger slipped away, and he wrapped his arms around her. She lay gasping in his embrace. Warm and masculine. Strong arms cradling her with tenderness.

  Heaven.

  Or Hell?

  His lips brushed across her temple and she sighed.

  "Jerette." He breathed her name. "There's so much more we could do right now, that I'd love to do right now."

  Of course. He'd want his turn now. Her whole body tightened.

  "But we won't. You aren't ready."

  He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her. Passionate. Loving. Tender.

  She melted into it, kissing him back with everything she had.

  Then he scooped her up and carried her from the room.

  "It's time for you to go home."

  Surprised by his words, she almost cried out no.

  He kissed her again and laid her down.

  Suddenly, she recognized the room around them as her gaming room. Or, more precisely, a VR facsimile of it. He had returned her to her gaming lounger.

  Phantom leaned down gave her a tender, passionate kiss. Without thought, she slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

  Passion started to flare again, but he slowly drew away. Stroking her hair back from her face, he smiled.

  "Goodbye, my love. Come back to me soon."

  He stood up. The separation of their bodies made her ache.

  "End session," he said, then faded away.

  At first her work benefited from her abstinence.

  She threw herself into it with a passion to replace that which she left behind. In VR. There was no way she could go back and see him again. Good heavens, she didn't even know who he was or what he looked like. And what she experienced with him wasn't real.

  Why, then, did the image of his face, filled with compassion, have the power to drain her of life? It seemed etched in blood on the back of her eyelids. Whenever she closed her eyes it taunted her. She had almost given herself to a man she knew nothing about. No matter it hadn't happened in real space—it felt real.

  Her feelings frightened her. Not the least because she couldn't control them.

  So she stayed away. She put the dark stranger out of her mind during her frenzied days. But at night she had no control. He came into her dreams and she could do nothing to stop him. So she stayed awake. As long as she could, well into the night, until she was too exhausted to dream—or at least to remember them when she did.

  When she arose for work, the dark, saggy-eyed stranger staring back at her from the mirror transformed into an acceptable human after several layers of carefully applied makeup. Every morning, despite her drooping eyelids, she looked forward to the day ahead. In her office, buried in work, she didn't fee
l the passage of time or the pull of passion—because she wouldn't allow thoughts of Phantom to intrude. She became a fixture, always there, always dedicated to meeting deadlines.

  Forcing herself to spend every waking hour in the office hadn't been meant as an example to her team, she thought guiltily as she stared at the latest batch of time sheets. Scrolling down the summary menu with her right hand, she flicked the total command. Three person-months over in the last reporting period. Ridiculous. The company didn't pay overtime and she knew most of her people had families.

  She'd noticed many people staying at their desks much later than usual, tossing nervous glances over their shoulders when she'd scoot by. She pulled off the VR headset and slumped back in her chair, scrubbing her hands across her face. They shouldn't suffer because her personal life had gone askew.

  An insistent blipping from the abandoned headset on her desk alerted her to an incoming phone call. Clamping the headset back in place she answered it. The image of Gord Barker, Vice President of Research and Development, appeared before her, the lines of his face drawn taut over broad features.

  "Jerette, John Pierce wants to see you. In his office. Now."

  John Pierce. President and owner of Acupoint Enterprises, the company that employed her.

  "Why?"

  He pressed his palms flat on his desk and leaned toward her. "I don't know but I suggest you get up there and find out." His brusque words suggested that he didn't think Pierce intended to congratulate her on her team's recent successes.

  Gord's image dissolved. Jerette quickly marched out of her office past the cubicles outside, ignoring the speculative glances of the staff not immersed in VR. The elevator spiriting her up to the ninetieth floor made hardly a whisper as she mulled over the possibilities. What could he want? She'd heard of cuts lately, but her team had been doing so well. They'd beaten every deadline for the past month. That, at least, had been a positive result of her staff knocking themselves out to match her efforts.

  A nervous flutter started in her stomach and quivered up through her chest. She'd never met John Pierce, but she'd heard he was formidable, slashing the most self-assured person to shreds with a few cutting words. Her confidence settled down around her ankles and threatened to slip away entirely. When the elevator stopped and the doors whooshed open, she stared at a plush, elegant office with a svelte blond sitting behind an oak desk. Treading onto the carpet and feeling her feet sinking into the deep pile, she tugged on the hem of her demure black jacket and smoothed her hair back, capturing a few loose tendrils that had escaped her tight French braid.

  "Ms. Salenger. Go right in." The executive secretary smiled and gestured toward the office door.

  Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, Jerette pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  "Jerette. Come in."

  The deep baritone settled into her bones and set them rattling. Her gaze froze on the vivid blue ice of his eyes. Determined to hold eye contact as long as he, she stood endless, rigid seconds staring, until finally the wild thumping of her heart and her desperate need for air—why couldn't she breath under his intense scrutiny?—forced her to blink and glance away. Immediately, she swung her gaze back to his face, but refused to look into his eyes. A slow smile spread across his face and he started a leisurely perusal that traveled the length of her with infuriating thoroughness.

  Maybe it was because of the erotic dreams she'd been having about Phantom lately. Or maybe it was because he was stunningly attractive in his own right. Or maybe she just needed a man in her life. Whatever the reason, Jerette felt her body respond to his examination as though he touched her physically. Her nipples pressed against the white silk of her blouse and at the tingling between her thighs she felt intimate muscles contract.

  She cleared her throat and nudged her focus back to his face, hoping to drag his wandering gaze away from her body. She barely stifled a gasp as his eyes gleamed at her knowingly, his smile tightening to a satisfied grin. No, she scolded herself, he couldn't know his affect on her. Her sanity wouldn't allow it.

  "Sit down, Jerette." Before you fall down. He hadn't stated the words but they were clear in the glitter of his eyes, the crinkles etched around his confident smile.

  She sank into the chair, supple leather cushioning her descent.

  "You want to know why I summoned you here." His words, crisp and business-like, held no threat.

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her vocal chords would probably squeak discordantly if she did.

  "You have a fine team of people, and they've done a superb job, especially over the past few weeks."

  "Yes," she croaked, but the word came out inaudible, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "Yes, they deserve a commendation."

  "It's too bad I have to cut the project." The words, spoken softly and without emphasis of any kind, sank into her without comprehension, until suddenly, like a string pulled taut, they cut through her awareness.

  "What?" The word, just short of a piercing shriek, echoed through the office in a reverberating note of panic. "You can't do that!" Her hands gripped the padded armrests of the chair. "You just can't, it—"

  "But I can." His slow, sure words silenced her rising voice.

  She stared at him, blinking slowly, her mind frantically searching for some argument. Like a brilliant light in the darkness, the answer beckoned to her. Profit.

  "But what about the contracts we've signed? We have customers begging for our product. We've already set up Alpha sites. You can't cut the project."

  "But I can," he repeated, not deigning to explain.

  Floundering, she tightened her grip on the armrests, her knuckles turning white. The company could pay a penalty to break the contracts, and it wouldn't be that difficult to back off on the two test sites. That kind of thing had been done before—but their product looked so promising.

  "Why?" The word, a cry of anguish, tore from her.

  "Money. It's been a tough quarter and we simply can't afford the number of projects we're carrying. We had to cut one."

  She licked her lips. "You mean, it doesn't have to be mine?"

  "No, but the others do have advantages over yours, despite your excellent team." He shook his head. "They'll be laid off, I'm afraid."

  "No!" She sprang to her feet and leaned on her palms, staring at him over the desk. "There must be some way I can convince you…" She realized his gaze had strayed from her face. Glancing down she saw that her blouse, drooping away from her chest, left bare a great deal of her breasts. Leaping to a standing position and folding her arms protectively over her chest, she scowled.

  His expression took on a feral gleam. "Come to think of it, there is one way."

  Her eyes narrowed as she watched him warily. "What do you mean?"

  He loomed over her as he stood and walked around the desk. She found herself taking a step backward for every step he took forward. Suddenly, a wall at her back put a halt to her retreat and he placed one hand on either side of her.

  "Think about it, Jerette. What do you think I mean?"

  Fear vibrated through her like a rattlesnake ready to strike. She felt her eyes open impossibly wide as she locked gazes with John Pierce. John P. Pierce, she recalled, remembering his sprawled signature over his neatly typed name on memos crossing her desk. She shook her head, trying to force back the thought that demanded her attention, the thought that refused to stay submerged. As it reared its ugly head, she wondered how she could have missed the familiarity of this man.

  Could the "P" stand for Phantom? Was John P. Pierce her virtual antagonist?

  "I see you finally recognize me."

  "Phantom?" she breathed, in an almost inaudible whisper.

  "What took you so long to figure it out?"

  "But…" She slumped against the wall as she stared up at him, refusing to let tears spring from her eyes.

  "Why are you doing this? Last time you were so…" So gentle. So caring. How had he turned into such a mo
nster?

  "You were gone a long time, Jerette." His dark gaze cut through her. "I thought you would come back," he rumbled. "I thought you had learned to trust me. Obviously, the nice-guy approach wasn't working." He leaned an inch closer. "I intend to get what I came for, Jerette. There'll be no holding back from now on."

  His words chilled her.

  "I understand you're angry with me, but…" She took a deep breath to calm the turmoil of emotions. "Don't kill my project," she pleaded, shaking her head. "Don't punish my people." Her fantasies were bad enough, but now he was messing with real life.

  "Sweet Jerette, it doesn't have to be." His voice turned soft. Persuasive. "Just give yourself up to me. For a little while." He stroked a finger along the side of her face, sending a tingle of irrepressible awareness shuddering through her.

  "No. This isn't fair."

  "I never promised to play fair."

  A thought jolted through her like a life saver plummeting from nowhere. If he cut the project, she could charge him with—

  "Don't even think about sexual harassment, Jerette. No one would believe you. Everyone knows we've never even met before."

  Not in real time. No one knew about their VR adventures.

  "But if I…"

  His hands grasped her shoulders. "If we become involved then I'll reconsider financing your project, but no one needs to know why. If you lay charges, however, people will think you threw yourself at me to change my mind and when it didn't work…" He shrugged as his words trailed off, but the image they conjured became all too clear.

  Frustrated, she closed her eyes, blocking out the view of Phantom's handsome, arrogant features. Her head dropped back and, as Phantom's lips pressed against the pulse point at the base of her neck, a wild hunger consumed her. The icy shell that froze her in its grip cracked, threatening to melt as liquid warmth curled through her. Phantom's hands slid around her and dragged her from the cold, hard wall and pressed her against the flaming heat of his own hard contours. She whimpered, wanting to let go, to forget the pain of reality and smother herself in his embrace. His lips found hers and she responded to his kiss, needing to break out of the numb state of pain.