Roark lectured himself as he watched his assistant walk off down the hall. She was moving a bit stiffly—probably still getting used to the Goddess pearl shield she was wearing. It had seemed a shame to cover that sweet little pink button with the round black hemisphere, but Roark told himself it would be worth it when he saw how she reacted to stimulation that evening at dinner.
That’s another thing you shouldn’t have done—you shouldn’t have asked her to dinner, the little voice went on. You were perfectly capable of testing the efficacy of both the caps and the shield in the lab. There was no need to turn it into a social occasion!
But being out together in a public place would probably enhance her reaction to stimulus, Roark argued with himself. The social setting would provide valuable data he couldn’t get by testing the devices he had attached to her in the privacy of the lab.
Admit it, Roark—you just want to go out with a beautiful woman. A beautiful, intelligent woman who understands your research as well as you do, whispered the voice. You’ve been lonely all these years since Amanda left. And Samantha is just your type—full figured and curvy—a true Elite. Not to mention her long silky hair and big green eyes…
“No!” Roark muttered aloud to himself. “No, I won’t think like that about her—I can’t. No matter how attractive she is, I can’t give her what she wants—what she needs. And besides, the research has to come first!”
Promising himself he would keep that uppermost in his mind, he turned towards his suite, intending to do a bit more work before he got ready for his dinner with Samantha—which was purely for research reasons—that night.
Twenty-Two
“So he wants to take you out to dinner?” Meg’s eyes widened excitedly. “Oh my God, Sammi! He’s into you! You know, I had a feeling when I told you to apply for that job—”
“It’s not like that,” Sammi hurriedly interrupted her. “He only asked me out to talk about the, uh, research.”
“Talk about the research? Riiiiight.” Meg winked at her broadly. “Because the best place to talk about research is definitely a fancy dinner at a romantic restaurant. Where did you say he was taking you again?”
“I don’t know the name of it. He said it specializes in Twin Kindred cuisine and it’s down by the park area in the center of the ship.”
“Oh—I know that place! Berik took me there for our one-week anniversary!” Meg cooed. “It’s amazing. Be sure you order the grieza worms for dessert—they’re delicious.”
“Worms for dessert?” Sammi frowned.
“Trust me,” Meg told her. “But then, you might not even get to dessert. The two of you might leave early to do a little more ‘research’ together, right?” She giggled and winked at Sammi again.
“Honestly, Meg—I told you—it’s not like that!” Sammi protested.
She shifted uncomfortably, wishing she could tell her best friend the truth. But how could she admit that she’d suddenly turned into a sexual submissive and she was allowing her new boss to use her body as a testing ground for his strange sexual devices? How could she tell Meg that even now she was wearing nipple caps and a clit shield which kept her from touching herself while increasing her desire?
The answer was, she couldn’t—she just couldn’t. There had been a time when she and Meg never had secrets from each other. But now Meg was with Berik and Sammi was sure she told her new husband everything. She didn’t want to feel embarrassed to meet the Beast Kindred’s eyes the next time he and Meg had her over for dinner.
Also, she was kind of ashamed of the position she found herself in. She had always considered herself a feminist—someone who took charge of her own pleasure and owned her own sexuality. And here she was, allowing someone else to dictate when she could come and even if she could touch herself! What had happened to the self-assured, confident woman she used to be?
I’m still self-assured and confident, she argued with herself uneasily. I’ve just discovered a new side of myself—that’s all. A side that likes to submit. Maybe that’s why I never had any good sex before—because I was never with a dominant man. One who knew what I needed and how to give it to me like Roark does.
Then she kicked herself mentally. There she went, comparing the big Shadow Twin to her past lovers again.
She had to stop that, Sammi told herself sternly. Roark wasn’t her boyfriend—he was her boss. And the sooner she made herself realize that, the less chance she had of letting herself get emotionally involved—which she had to avoid at all costs if she didn’t want to get her heart broken.
“You can say what you want, Sammi,” Meg said, breaking her train of thought. “But no man asks you out to dinner at an expensive, romantic restaurant just to talk business. You could talk business together at that lab of his! I’m telling you, girlfriend—he’s into you.”