Who Wants to Be a Sex Goddess? by Gemma Bruce Page A

opened.
    Dillon couldn’t see who it was, but he recognized the voice and cast his eyes upward.
    â€œLordy. You scared the bejeezus outta me. Get dressed. We’re having a party and we won’t take no for an answer.” A hand reached out and flipped on the light. And Dillon was staring into the shocked face of Jeannie Jenkins.
    Slowly, she looked from him to Ariadne and back again. “Oops.” She flicked off the light and backed out the door.
    Andy closed the door behind her, just as Dillon heard, “Let’s go, girls. Ariadne is busy. Ooo-ee, is she ever.”
    Â 
    Andy tried hard not to laugh when she turned back to Dillon and saw him frozen in place like a Greek statue. A stunned Greek statue. She sighed and leaned against the door. Just in case he decided to bolt and run. She wasn’t finished with him yet.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said. “I know you probably think this is the worst thing that could happen.”
    No , thought Andy. The worst thing would be that you leave now instead of getting on with it.
    â€œReally. I should never have put you in the position…”
    Just show me a few more and you’re absolved.
    â€œI can’t apologize enough…I’m really, really sorry. For everything.”
    He was sorry. She got the point. Sorry. The last word any woman wanted to hear when she was aroused.
    What was wrong with the man? One minute they’d been going at it hot and heavy, and the next minute he’s making excuses. Okay, so maybe things had gotten a little out of hand, but not nearly far enough for Andy.
    â€œI’ll go explain.” He moved her aside and opened the door.
    He was really leaving. When was she going to get a break here? “Explain what?” she asked as he ran down the steps.
    â€œThat I was just fixing your glasses.”
    He took off at a run. Andy watched him go. Her slave needed finessing, no doubt about it. Too bad they didn’t have a parallel Getting In Touch With Your Inner Slave retreat nearby. He could use it.
    She watched him lope up the darkened path. Then she closed the door, wondering when it would occur to him that you couldn’t fix glasses in the dark.

Chapter 7
    T he sun was just appearing over the mountaintops when Dillon paused in his morning run to take a drink from his water bottle. He’d made an ass of himself last night, first with Ariadne and then with her friends. He still felt like an ass seven hours and four miles later.
    He wiped sweat away, tucked the water bottle back into its case. He’d started running the first day he arrived at Terra Bliss for training. At first he could barely limp around the drive of the compound. After three days, he’d left the cleared area and stuck close to the perimeter wall, forcing himself up and down the wooded paths, testing his physical limits while he committed the details of the compound to memory. Now he knew where each surveillance camera was located. Each padlocked gate. Even knew where the security guards took their breaks on their morning rounds.
    He’d selected several possible escape routes in case this mission went sour. Not that he expected it to. It should be a simple case of staying put, acting the part while he looked for evidence that they hadn’t been able to access from the outside.
    And then along came Ariadne McAllister.
    He bent his knees, stretched out his calves, and started running again. Slower now because he was going uphill. He pushed along the path, past quiet cabins. Everyone was still sleeping. He could take the uneven ground at a pace he could control. And if he fell on his face, there wouldn’t be anyone to see. He ran faster, leaning forward as his thighs screamed against the incline. He gritted his teeth. Let his nostrils flare as he forced himself to breathe evenly. He had to get in shape, and he had to stop thinking about Ariadne, whatever it took.
    There was something not right about her.