The Pleasure Palace

by Evangeline Anderson

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance; Fantasy Romance; Science Fiction Romance; Sci-fi Action & Adventure; Alien Contact

Synopsis

In this erotic sci-fi adventure, an inter-planetary peace officer’s latest mission takes her and her gorgeous boss to the sexiest place in the galaxy.

In The Future, Pleasure Has No Limits . . .

Peace Control Officer Shaina takes on a dangerous off-planet mission: to infiltrate the infamous Pleasure Palace on Syrus Six. Ready when you are. Tyson, her commanding officer, just so happens to be the sexiest guy in the galaxy.

Now they’ll have to pose as a wealthy mistress and her obedient slave. And Shaina wants nothing more than Tyson’s hot, sculpted body against hers, his hands on her skin, his touch branding her. Controlling her desires will be impossible. But she must surrender to the intense pleasure only he can bring her. Tyson’s sensual skills are out-of-this-world . . .

Praise for the writing of New York Times & USA Today–bestselling author Evangeline Anderson

“Evangeline Anderson’s sci-fi fantasy is highly imaginative . . . And sexy.” —RT Book Reviews

“Kept me up all night . . . Sexy and funny!” —MaryJanice Davidson on Take Two

Warning! This Is A Really Hot Book! (Sexually Explicit)</

Release date: October 9, 2013

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 304

Sample

“C’mon, darlin, I jus’ wan’ a lil’ sugar pussy. I’m only topside on this rock for twenty-four hours. You don’t wan’ me to go away lonely, now do ya?” He had a thick Centaurian accent and had obviously been drinking all night so the words came out in a drawling slur. Shaina McCullough suddenly found herself pinned against the crumbling gray concrete with the disgusting drunk leering in her face. “Jus’ a lil’ sugar pussy…” he repeated and she turned her head in revulsion as his foul breath, thick with gin fumes, washed over her.

That was it; she couldn’t stand it any more. Determined to teach him a lesson, Shaina struggled to get her right hand behind her back and grab the mini-tazer that was taped there. Cursing the stupid skintight design of her skirt that made it impossible to carry anything in the pockets, her fingers wiggled beneath the low-slung waistband of the leather mini, feeling for the small, lipstick-shaped tube. She intended to whip it out and shove it straight into the drunk Centaurian’s balls—all three of them. A good sharp jolt in the nads ought to discourage him, since he didn’t seem to know how to take no for an answer. At the very least it would teach him not to bother innocent-looking girls who turned out to be Peace Control Officers.

“Hey baby, I knew you’d come around.” The drunk had managed to pull the magno-tabs of her crop top apart and was currently trying to get off her demi-bra. His breath was making her want to retch. Shaina fumbled grimly for the tazer. Where was it? She had taped it to the small of her back right before leaving the station, but now her searching fingers found nothing but a smooth expanse of skin—it was gone. The drunk had one hand inside her bra now and was mauling her right breast. Shaina was sure she’d have to take a scalding anti-bac shower that night to even begin to feel clean again.

“Get off me!” she yelled, beginning to feel a little panicky. Okay, it was time to call for backup. The drunk Centaurian might not be the serial rapist she was looking for but she was going to be in serious trouble if she didn’t get him off her pronto. One thick knee was pressing between her thighs, trying to spread her legs as Shaina reached for the autojewel, actually a link to her backup, nestled securely in her belly button. But the drunk’s potbelly was plastered against her own flat stomach too firmly to admit so much as a micron between them, let alone her questing fingers. She tried to push him away, but he was all over her, a suffocating, reeking flesh blanket.

Oh, this could not be happening after all her careful training and months of preparation for a case like this, Shaina thought despairingly. It was supposed to be her big break. What would Ty think if he could see her now?

As if to answer her question, a deep male voice came from the depths of the alley behind them.

“Hey, buddy, I don’t think you’re this lady’s type. Why don’t you back off and get out of here?” Shaina’s heart sank. She knew that voice. It belonged to Brent Tyson, the senior officer who had trained her not so many months ago. Damn it all to hell, what was he doing here? She’d almost rather be mauled by this disgusting drunk than have her ex-partner witness her failure.

The drunk in question was paying no attention to the commanding voice behind him. “Find yer own, mister. I was here first,” he mumbled, still pawing at her bra. He had exposed both breasts now and he was working on spreading her thighs. Thankfully, the tightness of the micro-mini actually worked in her favor there, making it impossible for her legs to part more than a few inches. Shaina continued to try and wriggle free with no success.

“Fine, we’ll do it your way,” Ty said pleasantly. Suddenly, the drunk was dragged off her and Shaina was left leaning against the cold concrete wall, gasping with effort and off balance in her ridiculous thigh-high imitation lizardskin boots. Not for the first time, she cursed the stupid costume, which was supposed to make her look like a university student out for a night on the town. She stumbled a few steps and fell to the dirty, gravel-strewn ground, cutting her palms in the process, and looked up in time to see Ty’s fist connect with the drunk’s face. The punch wiped the leering grin off in a sickening crunch of cartilage and bone. Blood that was nearly black began pouring down the Centaurian’s face. He dropped his bottle of gin and cupped his nose, bellowing in hurt confusion.

“Whyth you do that?” he gasped, his eyes flaring orange with pain. “That hurth, you thon of a bith!” He added a few choice words in his native tongue that Shaina couldn’t begin to make out, although their meaning was pretty clear.

“Wouldn’t have had to if you’d backed off when the lady asked you to,” Tyson replied, still in that same, pleasant, no-nonsense tone of voice. He casually smoothed back his thick black hair with one large hand and waited to see if the drunk had had enough. Apparently, he hadn’t. With an inarticulate howl, he came stumbling forward, clearly meaning to tackle Tyson and take him to the ground. This time, Ty didn’t even bother to punch him. He just stepped out of the way and let the Centaurian run headfirst into the opposite wall of the alley, knocking himself out cold.

Without missing a beat, Tyson turned back to Shaina, who was still kneeling on the ground, feeling stunned. “Upsy-daisy, sweetheart.” He hooked one capable hand under her arm and levered her to her feet as though she weighed next to nothing. Angrily, Shaina shook him off.

“Damn it, Ty, what are you doing here?” She gazed at her former partner with disgust. As always, he looked immaculate, as though he was about to attend a meeting instead of punching out drunk Centaurians in a dark alley in the seedy port district. Shaina couldn’t stop her eyes from traveling up his muscular legs and thighs clad in skintight black trousers, to the broad chest and wide shoulders in a crisp white button-up shirt. He hadn’t even gotten dirty in the short fight, she noticed with disgust. Brent Tyson had a striking, hawklike face and his distinctive amber eyes were glinting with amusement and maybe something else as he stared at her in the dim light of the alley.

“What am I doing here? Saving your sweet little ass, McCullough. At least that’s what it looks like from here.” He grinned at her. That self-satisfied smirk Shaina couldn’t stand, showing sharp, white teeth in the half light of the alley. Ty was half D’Lonian. Usually, aside from the amber eyes and golden-tan skin, you really couldn’t tell. But when he grinned like that, it showed. That grin made Shaina nervous because it reminded her of all the rumors you heard about D’Lonian males—most of them too incredible to be real and too embarrassing to repeat. All her girlfriends whispered and giggled about it when they heard she was working with a man who was half D’Lonian. People said D’Lonian men were animalistic in their mating habits, that they had uncontrollable, unnatural lust. She tried to push the thought out of her head and concentrate on appearing self-sufficient and professional.

“I had the situation completely under control. There was no need for you to interfere.” Shaina lied as forcefully as she could. “This is my case and you shouldn’t be here.”

“What were you going to do, bludgeon him into submission with these?” Ty cupped her still exposed breasts in large, warm hands and scooped them neatly back into the lacy demi-bra, causing Shaina to gasp. The heat of that brief contact lingered, making her nipples into hard little pebbles as she attempted to close the magno tabs of her crop top, getting them misaligned in the process. She tried to ignore her reaction to his touch and remain professional.

“No, I was just about to stun him with my tazer before you interfered.” She looked up at him defiantly. Even with the absurdly high-heeled boots, she was too short to meet him eye to eye. Smoothing down the crooked crop top, she tried in vain to pull the micro-mini just a little farther down her thighs. Having those smoldering amber eyes on her body always made Shaina uncomfortable for reasons she was unwilling to explore, even to herself.

“Oh, you mean this?” Tyson reached into the righthand pocket of his skintight trousers. Shaina’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the gesture as she noticed, not for the first time, the thick bulge between his legs. Part of her wondered if it was any thicker at the moment as a result of having his hands, however briefly, on her bare breasts, but she pushed the thought resolutely away. Ty pulled his hand out of his pocket and there, lying in the center of his large palm, was her lipstick-sized mini-tazer. It still had a small curl of Stiksalot—sticks anything to anything—stuck to it.

“Where did you get that? I taped it to the small of my back before I left the station.” She reached for it but Ty pulled it back, gripping the miniature weapon firmly in his fist.

“And you dropped it about three blocks back. It fell right out the back of your skirt in front of the Green Iguana.” He mentioned the local dive the serial rapist was thought to hang out in. Shaina had spent a good part of the night there, letting herself be seen, before wandering slowly away to the darker side streets of the port district, hoping to lure the rapist into following. Instead, she had gotten the drunk Centaurian, who was currently out cold and snoring at their feet.

“You were following me!” Shaina was outraged. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Ty, my training period is over. It’s been over for months and you’re no longer my partner or training officer—you’re my coworker. That means we’re equals and I don’t need you breathing down my neck while I’m trying to work. I don’t need you to take care of me anymore.” Shaina could feel her pale skin flushing red with anger but she was helpless to do anything about it.

“Well, from what I just saw it looks like you need someone to take care of you.” His deep voice was quiet and calm, but those wide amber eyes flashed dangerously. “And I wasn’t following you. I happened to be having a beer at the Green Iguana when I saw you walk out. I noticed the tazer fall out of your skirt and came along to give it back to you. What would you have done if I had decided to leave you to your own devices and return it tomorrow?”

“I could have called for backup.” Shaina sounded sullen, even to herself. Why was it that Ty could reduce her from a grown woman to a petulant child with a few choice words?

“With this?” He stepped forward, crowding her a little, and ran one long finger along the soft curve of her abdomen, indicating the autojewel in her belly button, now blinking red moons and yellow daisies. The brush of his warm, callused fingertip along her skin made Shaina shiver. “Where is your backup anyway?” He smelled like warm male musk.

“They’re back a few blocks.” She wanted to move away from him, but, once again, her back was to the wall. Her boots grated against the gravel as she shifted her feet; there was no place to go. “I didn’t want to scare the guy off. I’m trolling for the Red-Head Rapist; he’s been known to hunt in the port district.”

“Yes, I know. They’re calling him that because he targets redheads, which, I guess, is how you got involved, even though this isn’t technically your area of expertise.”

Shaina bristled. “I don’t want to be stuck in Domestic my entire career. When Tony from Vice approached me about trying to draw this guy out I jumped on it. My hair just made it easier.” She flipped her long, silky auburn hair over one shoulder with a defiant little toss of her head, daring him to say anything about it.

“Is that right?” His amber eyes still glittered dangerously. He took another step forward, deliberately invading even more of her space. Shaina held her ground.

“Yes, it is. As a matter of fact, that guy you punched out might be the Red-Head Rapist, for all you know.” She gestured at the Centaurian sprawled at their feet.

“You know he’s not.” Tyson smiled a little, again showing those sharp, white teeth. “He’s just a drunk Centaurian out looking for, what did he call it? Oh, yeah—a little ‘sugar pussy’ I believe is what he said.” He leaned in closer, his warm, cinnamon-scented breath brushing along her neck and the tops of her breasts as he spoke, and Shaina felt herself blushing furiously. Goddess! To think he had heard that too…it was absolutely mortifying. She was deeply embarrassed—which must be the reason her heart was pounding so hard and she felt like she couldn’t get a deep enough breath.

“So you stood there and watched the whole thing. If you were going to interfere, then why didn’t you do it in the first place before he started manhandling me?” She fought not to notice how close he was to her. His slim hips were pressed against her pelvis until she was absolutely sure she could feel the bulge of his hard cock digging mercilessly into her flesh. The heat in his blazing golden eyes was intense and it was all Shaina could do to meet them without flinching. She didn’t want Ty to know how nervous he made her.

“McCullough…Shaina…” He sighed and took a step back. Running one hand through his thick black hair, he shook his head as he looked at her. “I was trying to leave you alone because I knew how you’d react if I interfered with your sting. But damn it—you left me no choice! I couldn’t just stand by and watch him rape you, could I?

“I only stepped in at the last minute when it became clear that you weren’t handling the situation and your backup was nowhere in sight. I don’t see how I could have done anything else. Now, come on.” Ty took her small hands gently in his. “You hurt yourself when you fell. I have a first aid kit in my craft. Why don’t you come let me bandage you up? Red-Head’s not out tonight or he would have taken the bait already. There’s no way he could have resisted you.” Those frank amber eyes raked over her again, taking in her barely concealed breasts and the too-short skirt, making Shaina feel hot and cold and completely naked all at the same time. She crossed her legs tightly, trying to ignore the throbbing between her thighs. As always, Ty’s effect on her body made her feel nervous and angry—out of control.

“I told you, Ty, I don’t need you to take care of me anymore. So why don’t you do us both a favor and stay out of my life?” She pulled her hurt hands out of his large, warm grip, taking the tazer as she did. Grimly, she pushed past him, fully aware that he was letting her go, the awareness making her angrier than ever.

“Shaina.” He grasped her upper arm and swung her around to face him once more. “I admit I’ve been watching out for you a little bit. You’re still a rookie and I get worried about you, especially when you take on an assignment like this. But if that’s really what you want, then I’ll do it. I’ll stay out of your life.” His voice was calm but dangerous; his fingers dug into the flesh of her upper arm like steel pincers.

“Fine.” She didn’t know why her voice was trembling or why she couldn’t look into those golden eyes while she spoke. “Stay out.”

“You have my word.” Voice cold, he let her go so abruptly she nearly fell again. Stumbling, Shaina got past him as fast as she could, blinking back angry tears as she wobbled in the spike-heeled boots to the end of the alley. She could feel his eyes on her back like laser beams while she walked, and she fought the urge to look back. The boots were pinching her toes and sending spikes of pain through her arches, and every extremity felt frozen solid except her hands—they were still warm from Ty’s touch.

Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone and let her prove she could do the job right on her own without always swooping in to rescue and criticize her? Shaina knew he had trained lots of other Peace Control Officers, so why did he always single her out, as though her training would never be done?

Well, now at least he had promised to stay out of her life. She wondered how long that promise would last.

As it turned out, it lasted less than twenty-four hours.

“Tony, I need to talk to you.” Tyson’s entrance into the busy Peace Control station was, as usual, right on time. He looked over at Shaina’s empty desk as he called to his friend, noting that she had yet to make an appearance, and sighed inwardly. Punctuality was a concept he had never been able to instill in her when she was an officer in training and now he doubted it was a principle she would ever embrace. But even though she was often disorganized and less than punctual there was something about Shaina McCullough, a kind of brilliance, an instinctual intuition that made her a valuable addition to the force. Tyson had no doubt, given the time and opportunity, she would be instrumental in catching the Red-Head Rapist. He just didn’t intend for her to get that opportunity.

“Tony?” he repeated and his colleague’s head finally surfaced from the latest batch of reports. Tyson knew he had promised to stay out of Shaina’s life, at least directly, but this was different. Shaina was putting herself in danger and he couldn’t just stand by and watch her risk her life the way she had last night.

“Tyson, hey, what can I do for you?” Tony—short for T’onzxlyslr, his Xaxian name, which no one could pronounce—raked one pale hand through his neatly clipped white-blond hair and blinked his pink eyes nervously. He took a small sip from the recycled cardboard cup in his other hand and spit it back immediately. “Man, this stuff is awful. I mean, even for synthesized beans—really awful. You’d think they could afford better brew for New Brooklyn’s finest.”

“Dream on.” Tyson sat on the edge of the Xaxian’s desk, casually pushing the reports aside. “Listen, I need to talk to you about Shaina.”

“Oh, man…” Tony groaned. “How did I know you wanted to talk about her? Look, Ty, she’s an officer now and she has the right to steer her own career. You can’t keep holding her back.”

“I’m not trying to hold her back. I’m trying to keep her safe. You and I both know that Shaina has a great mind—she makes the most amazing leaps of logic sometimes—but she’s not good at undercover work. She’s too apt to leave her backup behind or lose her weapon, both of which happened last night. Did she tell you?”

“Not in those words, exactly. She more or less just said the night was a bust.”

“A bust? It would have been a complete disaster if I hadn’t come along when I did. Look, Tony, this assignment is too dangerous for her. I want you to pull her off it right now.” Tyson rapped the plasti-wood desk he sat on for emphasis.

The Xaxian took another small sip from his cup and grimaced, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Tyson, I don’t know if I can do that. The chief himself approved it. It seemed like a good idea at the time, since she’s the only natural redhead in the department and with looks like hers…” He trailed off, perhaps seeing the glint of anger in Tyson’s eyes. “Ty, you can’t protect her forever.” His voice was gentle. “You know, you’ve trained lots of officers. Hell, you even helped train me when I first came on the force, but I’ve never seen you become so overprotective and paranoid about any of your past trainees. I know you’ve got a thing for McCullough but…”

“We’re not an item, Tony.” Ty cut him off. “It’s just that Shaina’s too valuable to waste on an assignment like this.” Tyson stood up and began pacing back and forth in front of the desk. “You ought to have her behind the scenes, directing your investigation and putting the pieces together—not out in the line of fire. Now, I don’t care what it takes or who approved it, I want you to make some plausible excuse and get her off this case. It’s too damn dangerous.” He was pacing almost angrily. Stopping in front of Tony, he looked the other humanoid right in the eye. Mild pink was no match for blazing amber and the head of Vice dropped his eyes first.

“Well, I’ll see what I can do, although it may be completely unnecessary anyway.”

“Completely unnecessary—what are you talking about? I think I just outlined the necessity of getting her off this case very clearly.” Tyson slapped the desk angrily.

“Yeah, I know, but right now McCullough’s in the Chief’s office volunteering her sweet little…uh, her very fine mind for an extremely dangerous off-planet mission.”

“What? But she’s not even here.” Tyson pointed to her empty desk as evidence. “She never comes in on time.”

“Yeah, well, never is a long time. It just so happens she came in early this morning while the Chief was asking for volunteers. She spoke right up. Wait, you can’t just barge in…” But the rest of his words were lost on Tyson, who was already striding angrily toward the solid real-wood door in the middle of the station.

TO PROTECT AND TO SERVE was written in large, black block letters over the arching doorway. Under the lettering a small digital message was running in a loop: BUSY, DO NOT DISTURB UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES it said in red, spooling holo-type. Tyson paid no attention whatsoever as he grasped the brass knob and pushed his way into the room.

“Ah, good, another volunteer!” The jovial voice came, not from the Chief, who sat silently at his large glass desk with holo displays showing different parts of the city, but from a small, nattily dressed man in the plush chair across from him.

Beside the little man, in another plush chair, sat Shaina, looking beautiful in the standard jumpsuit uniform of black pleather. Tyson had one on, himself—hell, every officer in the place did—but he couldn’t help noticing how well his former protégée filled hers out. The pleather clung lovingly to every lush curve of her ripe body and he couldn’t forget that he’d held those luscious breasts in his hands just last night, the creamy mounds and berry-pink nipples straining out of that black lace bra she’d had on…God! He wanted her so much. From the first there had been an undeniable attraction between them and yet Shaina refused to acknowledge it.

Right now she looked flushed with excitement. Apparently she’d been picked to go on this “dangerous mission,” whatever it was, and just couldn’t wait to throw herself in the path of peril.

She looked around now to see who the small man was referring to. When she saw Tyson, her face fell. He could almost see her thinking, “oh no,” but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. There was no way she was risking herself on some damn-fool, off-planet mission if he could prevent it.

“Chief Hamilton,” he began when the Chief, a stocky, balding man whose pleather jumpsuit bulged more than a little in the midsection, interrupted him.

“Officer Tyson, I’m so glad you’re here. Let me introduce Minister Waynos. Minister Waynos is a direct emissary of the Chancellor and he’s here for a very important reason,” the Chief emphasized, giving him a glare. Tyson reluctantly took the hint and held on to his lip—at least for the present.

“Yes indeed, my good officer, and I’m so very glad you’ve come to volunteer for the mission.” The little man seemed to assume that Tyson couldn’t possibly be in the office for any other reason. He had a silver-plated goatee and mustache and he was dressed in a triple-breasted dove-gray suit with platinum buttons and mother-of-pearl lapels. He was clearly excited as he jumped out of his chair and began circling Ty, who stood in center of the room. “And I think you’ll do quite well too, just the kind of physical specimen we were hoping for.”

“What in the name of…” Tyson caught another glare from the Chief, and forced himself to modify his tone. “What does this mission involve, Minister Waynos? In terms of danger and personal risk, I mean,” he added, giving Shaina a meaningful glance.

“I’m going, Ty.” Shaina glowered at him with her gorgeous green eyes and spoke in a low, intense voice meant only for him, but the little Minister heard her as well.

“Why of course you’re going, my dear. You’ll be going with our Chancellor’s hopes and thanks and you’ll be outfitted in style. No expense will be spared; you have my word. As for danger, well…” He turned back to Tyson, who was watching him expectantly with a frown growing on his sharp features. “Well, there’s no denying that there will be som. . .