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al inflection.
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You re probably correct, but I can tell you re something
that will set the industry on its collective ear. I think I m
going to buy additional stock in Triple D Drones.
Dallas wheezed, chocking and coughing. She pounded on
his back then stopped herself. What was she doing? Drones
couldn t choke. Madelyn took a closer look at him. He
straightened his tie and cleared his throat.
Sorry. Glitch.
He certainly was a strange one, not that it should matter.
Her mood called for something quick. Simple and quick. She
leaned against the sea of throw pillows her decorator had in-
sisted upon and plopped her foot up in his lap.
Well, Dallas, I d like to take the edge off. Tonight went
splendidly and I want a little sleeping pill from you. I think
you should start with the basic foot massage.
His reaction was everything she d expect from a real
man. He swallowed and took a deep breath. His gaze slid
from her foot up to her thighs, flicked to her breasts, to her
eyes, then dropped back to her foot. Madelyn s pulse quick-
ened with hope he d continue to respond naturally. She d
been alone for so long, she welcomed even the touch of a
drone s hand. Part of her was sorry that tonight she was just
too tired to indulge all her fantasies.
Dallas remained motionless, staring at her foot. She wig-
gled her toes at him. He jumped, like he d suddenly realized
what had been asked of him, and wrapped his long, warm fin-
gers around her foot and squeezed.
Oh, God, that s marvelous. She sighed blissfully. He
ground his thumb into the ball of her foot, Madelyn gnawed
on her knuckle to keep from squealing. She would retain her
dignity she would! His manipulations increased and her in-
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Sexual Deceptions
sides turned into a mass of quivering jelly. Triple D must have
hired a professional masseuse for consultation when this part
of the Dallas drone was programmed.
To hell with dignity. She squirmed as Dallas pressed,
squeezed, twisted, and stretched his way to her calf. He set
her foot on the thick carpet, reached for the other one, and
proceeded to repeat the process. Madelyn squealed. He
paused.
Am I hurting you? he asked her with unfeigned sinceri-
ty.
Oh, nooooo, she moaned, closing her eyes. Keep
going. I m enjoying this.
He elevated her foot. A gentle breeze blew across her
toes. How far should I keep going, Madelyn? he purred soft-
ly.
How far, indeed. The moment of truth. What did she re-
ally want from a personal pleasure drone? The little voice in
her soul, the one so often denied, whispered to her& please.
The iron grip of her upbringing reared its head, stating
firmly a personal pleasure drone was hardly personal. How
many others had it serviced?
Please&
What if it had a recording device? What if the recording fell into
the wrong hands? She had heard that sort of thing happened oc-
casionally. A woman with her wealth could be a target for con
artists and scammers.
Please&
What if her mother found out? Her aunts? What would
they think of her? She who was raised to such high ideals? She
who well knew that to disappoint them was to be shunned un-
til she d bowed to them.
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Please&
She slammed the door on the voice of proper behavior, of
expectations that stole her breath in the bleak darkness of
lonely nights. Too often that voice had kept her from living.
Too often she d wept with regret over the lost opportunities
in her life that would never come again, opportunities not
seized simply for fear of what someone else would think of
her. What if the world did find out? Would she care? Should
she care?
Her wealth had not protected her when the world had
been unkind, had beaten her down when she had no cham-
pions to stand with her. Now she stood firmly on her own
two feet, the same ones that rested in the lap of a pleasure
drone.
The tiny voice called to her again, weaker now, fearing
rebuke. Please&
She looked inside herself, finding the fey source of the ti-
ny rebel to wrap loving tendrils around it. It quivered, daring
to hope, yet fearing the very hope that shook it.
Madelyn answered it& yes.
* * * *
Dallas massaged Madelyn s slender foot, about a size sev-
en, he estimated. Her fingernails might be adorned with only
clear gloss, but her toenails were sunset red. He never really
had a thing about feet before but found himself changing his
opinion. Her feet were like her strong and sturdy, the eleg-
ance not apparent until one looked closely.
He watched the emotions flit across her face, evidence of
whatever inner battle she waged. He hoped the right side
won, even if the winning side said he had to go home.
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What could this pretty lady want with a drone, other than the
obvious physicality? Surely she had men falling at her shapely feet
everyday. He looked at the dark lashes resting on the paleness
of her cheeks and he wished he knew what to say to turn the
tide in his favor. Her full lips bowed in a smile. The dark lash-
es swept up and she met his gaze openly, without blinking.
Chivalry died. He d just killed it. His last opportunity to
confess his deception looked him square in the eye and he let
it slide away.
It wasn t that he lacked female companionship. He had
plenty of women falling at his size eleven feet. Unfortunately,
it wasn t the size of his feet that attracted all those women, it
was the size of his bankroll. He had the distinct impression
Madelyn had a bankroll of her own, a definite plus for a man
with his wealth, and maybe part of the reason why she would
consider a night with a personal pleasure drone. She probably
had more than a few men looking at her bankroll, too. She
wiggled her toes against his palm.
Tell me, Dallas, how extensive is your intimate pro-
gramming?
A shiver ran up his spine, quickly followed by the brea-
kout of sweat on his back. Extensive enough, however, I am
not programmed for extreme fetishes.
Madelyn blinked coyly. I m not programmed for fetish-
es, extreme or otherwise, either, so we re even, although that
wasn t what I was asking. No matter. She pulled her foot out
of his grasp and rolled to her feet. Dallas stood up promptly,
ready to follow her, or run, he didn t know which.
Yes, he did. The mix of facial expressions that had come
and gone, and come again, as she waged her internal war
would haunt him if he walked away. All the unasked, unans-
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wered questions he had, his unbridled curiosity about this
good-looking woman who seemed part kitten, part tigress,
part shy, part bold, would not allow him to walk away. If she
needed company for tonight, she would have it.
Never had he courted such disaster.
It was thrilling, invigorating even.
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Chapter 4
Dallas jaw dropped as he entered Madelyn s golden
chamber. With its rich gold tones, flowing fabrics, and crystal
chandelier, it couldn t be called something as mundane as a
bedroom. The massive canopied bed that harkened back to all
those medieval period movies he d seen as a boy dominated
the space. Madelyn glided across the plush carpet and opened
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