Virtual Love (Sexy Alpha Male Romance) Read online

  If she gave herself to him, everything would be all right. She wanted to. God knows, every one of her dreams carried her back to him. But even there, she denied herself the ultimate pleasure.

  "Jerette, let go," he whispered persuasively. "There's nothing wrong with giving yourself to someone you desire. You want me. I want you. Forget about everything but your need."

  She felt her jacket slip from her arms and his fingers deftly release the buttons of her blouse.

  "They're harnessed in lace this time, enhancing their exquisite shape."

  Her eyelids flipped open to see him staring in awe at her breasts. He snapped open the clasp between them and ran his fingers over her bared nipples. She gasped as his mouth captured one erect peak. The world tilted under her and she felt soft leather compress under her body. He'd lowered her onto a couch and kneeled beside her.

  "At last, Jerette. I've waited so long."

  He tugged the tie from his neck and let it drop to the floor. The fine wool of his jacket brushed against her bare skin as he tossed it aside. He leaned forward and suckled her other nipple. The delirious sensation made her breath catch and she barely noticed as he stripped off her skirt. His fingers slid along her inner thighs and beneath the silk of her panties, finding her welcoming dampness. At the intimate contact, she gasped.

  His mouth captured hers before she could form a protest. Warmth emanated from his body, so close, yet not close enough. His lips moved on hers, drawing deeply buried needs to the surface. His chest compressed her breasts, his bare skin searing hers. When had he removed his shirt? His fingers slipped inside, sending a vibrant wave of awareness thundering through her. She gasped, the escalating pleasure almost too much to bear. His lips parted from hers and traveled down her neck to her breast. His tongue flicked across her nipple.

  Her nerves tingled like wires over-stressed with crackling electricity, overwhelming her to the point of sensual overload. His free hand covered her other breast and between his suckling mouth teasing one nipple and his gentle fingers teasing the other, she felt herself melting, as though sinking into an insubstantial dream, passion carrying her to a world filled with needs. She threw her head back and moaned. His wandering mouth continued its travels, his tongue dipping into her navel. She felt his hands move to the edge of her panties and tug them over her hips. He smiled as he stroked her inner thighs, gently easing her legs apart.

  She shouldn't be letting him do this. He leaned toward her and she closed her eyes but they flew open again when she felt his tongue tease her achingly sensitive flesh.

  She whimpered and tried to shift out of his reach, but his strong hands, fastened firmly around her hips, held her still.

  Doubts raged through her. She stiffened, torn by her desperate need to feel him inside her and her fear of weakness. If only she was in VR. This step wasn't so momentous there.

  He stared at her with a tender longing. "Do you really believe that, Jerette? Is the thought of surrendering your physical virginity so frightening to you? Is giving yourself to me in VR any less of a commitment?"

  He was reading her mind again. But surely that could only mean…

  He suckled on a hidden nub of pleasure and logical thought fled. Intense waves of dizzying pleasure built to a torrent, sweeping loose her common sense. Threading her fingers through Phantom's hair, she clung to him, gasping for air, crying out in a hoarse moan as the tidal wave battered her into a mindless mass of need. Her body rose and fell in arcs of pleasure. When she thought she would drown in the overwhelming fervor, his tongue flicked and kneaded, sending her whooshing over the edge, shattered into a million crystal droplets of pure prismatic colour.

  Lying very still, she sucked in air, her lungs aching with the effort. As the pounding of her pulse slowed, she felt Phantom shift and slide up beside her. The warmth of his lips urging hers open threatened to re-ignite the flood of passion. His hand covered her breast then slid down her belly. She could feel his aroused male flesh pressing against her thigh.

  "Jerette."

  She opened her eyes to meet his penetrating gaze.

  "Tell me you want this." His words were intense, full of need.

  "I…" Reluctantly, she forced herself to recall his earlier threats, dredging up the memory like muck from the bottom of a pond. An image of Sanderson's face, the young man whose wife had just had a baby, quivered on the surface her mind. With his limited experience, he'd have a hard time finding another job right now.

  "I don't like threatening you, Jerette. I'd give you the world if I thought it would convince you."

  He stroked her hair back behind her ears and two things occurred to her at once. He had just read her mind again, which she could almost understand in VR if he had somehow found a way to tap into the electrical essence of her brain, and as his fingers trailed over her temple she felt a slight pressure surrounding her skull, pressing down slightly on her ears. She recognized it for what it was—two separate sets of reality superimposed. One VR, and the other real space.

  Heat of another kind ripped through her and she shoved herself up to a sitting position. "Damn it! I never took off my VR headset. This is a God damned VR session!"

  She concentrated on the position of her hands in real space and tore the headset off. Jolted by the sudden return to her office, she reeled slightly and lowered her head to her desk, resting it there until her balance returned.

  Phantom had infiltrated her work system. The VR interface in the office was not as imposing as the one at home, which was meant for total immersion. At work, the user didn't start and end sessions, but simply slipped on and off the headset. How Phantom had drawn her in so deeply she didn't know. Damn him. He was one formidable hacker.

  A quick visit to Gord confirmed that the project and her team were secure. He told her he'd personally guarantee her project a long and happy life and she knew that assurance was worth gold. She only half noticed the startled expression on her secretary's face as she stormed past, telling her to cancel all afternoon appointments. For the first time in weeks, Jerette left the office before dusk.

  At home, she clenched her fists and paced her living room in frustrated helplessness. Damn him! If only she could disconnect herself from the net at work—but that just wasn't possible. She could do without her telephone, but not without e-mail, the most elemental form of communication. On the other hand, she could not allow Phantom to catch her again.

  She slumped onto the couch, raking her fingers through her hair. It was bad enough that he starred in her dreams, but at least there she was in no danger—at least no outside danger. He only threatened her peace of mind. In the VR, he threatened her sanity. After this afternoon's demonstration, she knew once she entered a VR interface, she could never be sure of reality again. Even now.…

  No! She leapt to her feet and stomped to the window, glaring out at the long afternoon shadows striping her lawn. Tension stiffened her joints. Absently, she rubbed at her neck, wishing fervently that she could slip into VR, her perennial cure for stress—now the root of it.

  An unnerving thought slowly surfaced. Damn it, no matter what she did, he controlled her life. She sighed. At least this way, she minimized his control. If she only knew who he was.

  Thoughts shifted and settled in her brain, and a seed of an idea sprouted roots. She called Gord and told him she'd need the next week off, knowing she couldn't chance using her computer at work.

  That night she started to search for Phantom. She traveled the world without leaving her home, partaking in an activity that had been dubbed 'surfing the net'. A term that had been spawned at the dawn of the information age and still stuck. In the past she would have used a VR interface but not now. She wouldn't risk it. She actually hooked up a keyboard and mouse, disdaining speech as an alternative and asked her neighbour to dump the daily news feeds onto a DVD so she didn't have to connect to the network. She did programmatic searches for any reference to Phantom, and followed each up, but none referred to her dark stranger.<
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  So she spent countless hours lurking. She started reading various zines. She subscribed to some of the news groups and kept up with the ongoing discussions between faceless people. The ones that kept her interest were not so surprising. She'd always been one to watch the groups concerned with uses—and abuses—of computers. Not surprised to see the age old ethical questions still being debated, she wondered that the arguments hadn't changed since she'd argued them herself so adamantly in the past. When she'd been a student and had more time for such considerations. Does one have a right to privacy in this information age and, if so, how does one maintain it? What is intelligence and could an artificial intelligence ever be built? And her favorite. If a machine ever did attain intelligence, would it have a soul?

  She itched to take part in the discussions, but she would not risk interacting with the outside world. Would not risk letting him in.

  Even though he got in before, a niggling little voice questioned. Why don't you think he can get in again?

  But this way I'm not so vulnerable, she answered. If he somehow reaches in he can't actually touch me.

  Or so she thought. Until the day the message came.

  The words glowed clearly across the vid wall when she activated the system. Message waiting. She was not set up to receive electronic mail but clearly that hadn't stopped him. Because it could be no one else.

  Sweet Jerette,

  I'm dying without you. Come back.

  Phantom

  So melodramatic. Still, she was almost thankful to receive it. This message provided his electronic signature. Even though he'd somehow masked his user and machine id, she would track him down. This was her area of expertise. Armed with knowledge, she could overcome fear. So she set out to find Phantom. To put a real face to the name—then a real name to that face.

  The elusive Phantom, however, refused to be found.

  "Sweet Jerette."

  She jumped as the voice spoke her name.

  "Oh, my God!"

  She slammed her palm down on the comm switch that would disconnect her from the outside world, the switch she'd activated in her frenzy to find Phantom.

  "No, Jerette. That won't work."

  And he was right, damn him. Somehow he was able to maintain the connection.

  "Who are you?"

  "Phantom. You know that."

  She scowled at the point above her left shoulder where the voice appeared to come from. Yes, she knew all right.

  "Why won't you leave me alone?"

  "You know that, too."

  "What do you want from me?" She slammed her hands on the table top. "And don't tell me I already know, because I don't," she snapped.

  "I've missed you, sweet Jerette. I want you to come back."

  "Come back where? To VR? But it's not real."

  "It is for us."

  She twirled her chair away from the keyboard and stood up.

  "Look, why the VR? You're a real person, not a computer character, so why won't you meet with me? We could talk." The thought of meeting Phantom in the flesh shook her, but she preferred that to being under his control in the VR. She took a few steps, hands locked behind her back. "Tell me who you are."

  "No." His voice held such sadness she glanced around, wishing she could see his expression.

  "Why not?" Her voice shook with frustration.

  "Jerette, I understand you're afraid of me, of what I might do. You want to know who I am, thinking that if you know that you can control, or ignore, your feelings for me."

  "I don't have any—"

  "You do have feelings for me. And not just fear. But you'll go on denying them, along with denying your other needs."

  "Damn you. Why do you always talk in puzzles?"

  She felt tired. No, exhausted. Too many nights spent lying awake, avoiding her dreams. Phantom dreams. Too many hours spent filling her mind with work to push out thoughts of Phantom. She sank onto the gaming couch and stretched out her legs.

  "Come back to me, Jerette. Just lie back and relax.…"

  His voice soothed, rippling over her like a tranquil waterfall. As her eyes fluttered closed a tiny surge of panic gnawed at her awareness but it was too small, and too distant, to reach past the calm shell that had settled around her.

  "Relax," his voice coaxed.

  She inhaled deeply, then exhaled, letting the tension flow out with the breath from her body. A gentle hum surrounded her.

  "Jerette."

  Something about the voice had changed. She forced her eyes open to see Phantom looming above her. His strong hand grasped hers and tugged her to her feet. Her calmness slipped away. She pulled back in horror as she saw her hand, so tiny in his, shivering. She couldn't let him see her fear.

  "I won't hurt you, sweet Jerette. I would never hurt you."

  "So you keep saying." The words came out a mere whisper. "How did you do this? How did you get me back into VR?"

  According to the familiar walls around her, with the large wizard poster on one side and a bookshelf full of computer manuals mingled with SF and fantasy paperbacks on another, they were still in her gaming room but she knew it was within a VR simulation.

  He shrugged his considerable shoulders. "Once you let me in—"

  "I didn't let you in.

  "—it was easy. Basic relaxation techniques allowed me to—"

  She sucked in a great breath and snarled at him. "You hypnotized me! What did you hope to gain? You've got me here now but—"

  She cursed herself as she backed several paces away from him. She wouldn't give him the opportunity to stop her from vocalizing her words of escape like he did before.

  "You can't, Jerette." He shook his head, almost looking regretful. But he didn't reach for her again.

  Damn him for being able to read her mind. "To hell, I can't," she snapped. "End session."

  She waited expectantly.

  And waited.

  "End session!" she cried.

  Nothing.

  "Damn it! End session," she roared.

  Her whole body shook now.

  "Jerette." When his hand brushed her shoulder in an attempt to calm, she leaped away from him.

  "No! Get away from me."

  "Relax."

  She twirled around to face him, her gaze clashing with his in defiance. "Don't try to subdue me. Or seduce me."

  He grasped her shoulders and stopped her from fleeing. "I'm not trying to—"

  "How did you do it? Shut off the end command, I mean?"

  "It doesn't matter."

  "Not to you maybe."

  He pulled her closer to his body, staring down into her eyes as though he could see into her soul. "Jerette, will you listen to me?"

  She glared a challenge up at him. "Will you tell me what I want to know?"

  "Probably not." He shook his head and the pain that crossed those rugged features relaxed into an emotionless mask. "If you won't cooperate, we'll just have to go to our usual method of interaction."

  Her gaze darted sideways, looking for an escape route. "No. I don't want—"

  She didn't want to feel helpless, to experience that total lack of control again. But the VR simulation of her game room faded away and she found herself standing in the centre of a cavernous hall.

  "Move it, woman."

  A meaty hand shoved her forward and she almost stumbled. A clinking sound, along with the feel of cold metal at her ankles alerted her to the fact that her legs were chained, as were her wrists. She glanced over her shoulder to the man who'd pushed her, a giant with a leering face. He pushed her through a doorway to an opulent sitting room. She flopped down on the pile of cushions he aimed her at and she watched him leave.

  "So, my sweet virgin slave has arrived."

  She jerked her head around and inhaled a jerky breath as her gaze caught on the most attractive man she had ever seen. He was a combination of all the things she'd dreamed of in a man. Blue eyes the colour of the sky at sunset, settled under eyebrows slanted up at a
cocky angle. Dark hair flowed past his incredibly broad, bare shoulders. His straight nose and square jaw gave his face strength, softened by a full lower lip. One she longed to feel pressing on her own. One she longed to tug on with her teeth and caress with her tongue, to—

  The lips she'd been contemplating curled upward in a devilish grin, reminding her of his uncanny ability to read her thoughts. She felt the heat of a flush burn her cheeks.

  "What is this all about?"

  "You are my slave."

  Her head snapped up, her chin held high. "In this fantasy maybe. But not in real space. There you do not control me."

  One of his eyebrows arched up. "Really?"

  The dreams? Oh, no, he couldn't—

  "You've dreamt of me?"

  She wanted to slap away the smug smile that spread across his face. Icy fear trickled down her spine. He could read her mind. He could enter her dreams. Who was this man?

  "I am your master."

  "What?" The word came out on a whispered breath of air.

  "You know this scenario, Jerette. I'm the master, you're the virgin slave. You give up your innocence to me. The question is do you do it willingly—or unwillingly."

  He took a step forward and she shrank back against the cushions. She had to gather her wits. How could she stop him when he knew her every thought even as they came to her?

  "You can't. Jerette, accept this. Accept me."

  Her panicked gaze shot to his eyes. There she saw tenderness despite the determined set of his jaw. If she could appeal to that side of him.… He continued to close the distance between them.

  "Are you going to take me like this?" she asked, raising her chained hands in appeal. "Will you give me no chance?"

  "To resist… or to open your arms to me?"

  "I…" She licked her lips.

  He sat beside her and pulled a key from a pocket in his trousers. He scooped her wrists together in one big hand and unlocked the chains. Then he gently grasped each ankle and freed them, as well.

  She sat through his ministrations, stoically keeping her mind silent.