Sci-Fi, Futuristic Romance
DatePublished: November 8, 2024
Janet’sorgasms are earth-shattering. At least they are when she’s Dreamingin the Zodiac, a virtual reality world created by Dr. Archer Tate. Theproblem is that, technically, a system shutdown shouldn’t be possible,especially not from a mere cyber-orgasm. Gamely, Janet reveals everyintimate detail of her Dreams for the team’s troubleshooting analysis but several weeks later, the cause of the anomalous malfunction remains amystery.
Archer blamesJanet for the Zodiac’s glitch. He just can’t figure out howshe’s triggering it. Doesn’t help that listening to her reveal herlusty Zodiac Dreams, orgasm by orgasm, is driving him insane with lust forher. For the sake of the project and his sanity, he decides to Dream withher so he can catch her in the act and put this business to rest.
There’s moreto Janet’s orgasmic Zodiac Dreaming than mere mechanics. Ittakes someone who knows Janet’s heart as well as her mind and body to createthe disruptive orgasm. When the team psychologist, Liam, insists he’s bettersuited for the job, Archer realizes he could lose something more precious tohim than Zodiac. Will sharing Janet with Liam solve their problems, or willhe lose her forever?
EXCERPT
Janet Widgeonsauntered into the smoky jazz club, her stiletto heelsclicking on the varnished wood floor. Notes of sweet, sassy blues rolleddown the dimly lit hall to welcome her. She was early, far earlier than shenormally arrived at the Zodiac Club, but pacing in her apartmenthadn’t lessened her anxiety.
Is he asexcited about tonight as I am? Is he already here, waiting forme?
The burlybouncer stationed at the entrance greeted her.“Evenin’, Miss Janet.” His thin black lips curved slightly upward as he took in her skintight, siren red dress. High praise coming fromthe stoic man.
Though shewore three-inch heels, she had to stretch to kiss the beefyman’s cheek. “Evening, Trent. How’s the moodtonight?”
“Hotter thanMaria’s gumbo.”
Janetchuckled. “Don’t let her hear you say that, or her nextbatch will violate our fire code.”
Trent duckedhis head in agreement. “True that.”
She fingeredher slim, sequined purse — it was the same shade as the dressand shoes — as she surrendered to her curiosity. “Any messages forme?”
“None of thefriendly sort, if that’s what you’reasking.” Even in the dim light she could see his brown eyes sparklewith amusement.
With a nod,she deftly spun on the points of her shoes and headed towardthe bar’s crowded interior.
“Going to youroffice, Miss, or should I ask one of the girls tobring a glass of white wine to your table?”
Her gazeroamed the dim interior as she considered her answer.“I’m far too restless to concentrate on paperwork tonight. Ithink I’ll mingle first, and then find a seat when Jim begins hisfirst set.”
“You haveyourself a fine evening then, Miss Janet.”
Janetpenetrated the hazy atmosphere where a broad mix of patronscongregated around small tables in front of the stage. Tonight’s headlining act was a real coup for the club. Jim Byrnes owned a nightspot inVancouver and rarely played anyplace else. How her manager had sweet-talkedhim into taking a trip to her little place in bayou country was a secretthat man wasn’t telling.
A relativelynew kid on the national jazz scene, Chris Thomas King wascurrently warming up the room with good, old-fashioned songs. Janet hummedalong with his rendition of the old Blues classic John Law as she circulatedthrough the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with old and new friends.
Jim’s namewas a big draw, and Janet was pleased to see her staffkeeping up with the clientele’s high demand for fresh, full glasses.Most of the customers wouldn’t want a meal so late at night, just afew Cajun snacks to keep the alcohol company. Janet noted that Maria and herkitchen staff seemed to have those requests under control as well.
There wasonly one question remaining on her mind. By the time shecompleted a full circuit of the room, Janet had that answer too. He’snot here.
Instead ofbeing disappointed, a tremor of excitement rippled along herspine. He wasn’t here. Yet. But he would come. She was sure ofit.
Janet signaledfor a barmaid to bring over a drink as she sat down at anempty table, the one reserved for her exclusive use, in a dark corner at theright edge of the stage. Usually, she invited others to join her, but notthis time. The only person whose company she desired now knew where to findher — and would, sometime before the night was over.
It had beenexactly a month ago that she’d first met him, a friend ofa friend who shared her fondness for delta blues and late-nightconversation. They’d talked until dawn threatened to cross the linefrom speculation to fact. He’d left her with a passionate kiss and apromise to return the following Saturday.
In fact, he’dcome back again and again to the Zodiac Club, neverstaying beyond closing, never asking if he could take her home or invitingher to his place. But after their last encounter, she knew their nextmeeting would end differently. The sexual tension between them had hit aboiling point. Next time, they’d either turn up the heat until their rising passion was finally given a chance to burn, or they’d shut offthe gas for good.
And now thatnight had arrived.
Janet sat aloneand waited for him to appear through the blues of ChrisThomas King and then Jim Byrnes’ opening set. She enjoyed bothmusicians thoroughly, yet part of her remained aware of the lingeringemptiness beside her.
As Jim’ssecond set began, Janet succumbed to a trickle of doubt. Hadhe forgotten about their date? Lost interest? Met someone else? Normally shedidn’t allow the presence or absence of a man at her side to castdoubt on her self-worth, but this man was the exception to every personalrule she had about dating. She’d been so sure he felt the same way andnow…
“Why do youwear such a sad face, cherè?” a rich,masculine voice asked from the shadows behind her.
She gasped insurprise. She’d never heard him approach, but somehowhe stood beside her, a living advertisement for sin.
Inside the darkclub, his face looked chalk white. The rest of him wasencased in black from neck to toe. A lightweight ribbed turtleneck tuckedinto a pair of pleated pants. A sports coat hung over one arm, the oppositehand rested in his pants’ pocket. So much the man she remembered,still more shadow than substance. The only part of him that vibrated withlife was the pair of quicksilver eyes which now pierced her soul.
Irritated thathe’d made her doubt herself, she snapped,“You’re like a damn ghost.”
“You didn’tanswer my question,” he pointed out, movingto her side.
Janet knew hiscourtly manners wouldn’t allow him to sit in the emptychair until it was offered. She’d keep him on pins and needles for afew more seconds to satisfy her moment of pique. “You’ve missed most of the show. Jim Byrnes, for heaven’s sake!”
“Is thistransgression so severe you’d rather I go?” Hiswhisky-smooth voice whispered against her ear.
Pure lustsnaked down her spine. How could she be inches away from orgasmjust from the sound of his voice?
About theAuthor
Kira Stone hasbeen around the block…the writer’s block, thatis.
From vampsand witches to historical heroes, from futuristic scientists toparanormal corporate executives, from Canadian werewolves to off-worldshifters, Kira has written about them all. Manlove has sparked hot and heavyin many of her plots, but Kira also finds a lucky lady to keep the sexyheroes company from time to time. While Scotland remains her favorite placein the world, Kira is constantly in search of new adventures to add to thecreative primordial ooze where her best stories are born.
AuthorLinks
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