Read For The Wicked (Fantasy Heights) for Free Online

Not that the suit had changed him in any fundamental way. He was still the guy who might, without provocation, decide he wanted to press her up against the wall, yank her panties down, and give her an orgasm, just because he bloody well felt like it.
    Those liquid-black eyes narrowed at her. “What are you thinking about right now?”
    “Mmm... I probably shouldn’t tell you.”
    “With the day I’m having, I think you probably should.”
    Well, maybe she couldn’t give him an orgasm right at the moment, but at least she could tell him his suspicions about her thoughts were spot on. “Honestly? I was thinking about you finger-fucking me into submission.”
    Now the eyes were open a little wider, the dilating pupils turning those eyes even more black. He stared so long her nerves began to sizzle, knowing that right now, he was seriously considering carrying out her confessed idea.
    She watched frustration burn away his indecision.
    He let out a scoffing, resentful grunt of laughter. “For the record, you were right. You shouldn’t have told me that. I have twenty minutes to get to the field office. Which is thirty minutes away.”
    Her eyes fell to his open collar, drawn to the warm brown skin. “At least you’ll have something to think about during the drive.”
    “I would have been thinking about you anyway.”
    She met his eyes again, and the heat there emptied her head of any sense, replaced with raw emotion. Defenseless. Completely defenseless, completely captive.
    Oh, help. If this was love, this was not the safe, controllable, trial-sized version she had felt for Darren. Loving Thomas was risk and fire wrapped tightly in joy and potential ruin.
    He leaned forward to speak against her mouth. “Gotta go.”
    She caught him behind the head and scorched a few more thoughts onto his lips before sending him on his way.
    Work. Back to work, she told herself.

IV
    She slogged through another hour of phone calls and paperwork before heading into town. There, she picked up flowers, some framed prints, plants and a bunch of pillows and delivered them all to the girls’ apartment. The nurse and guard helped Amanda spruce the place up a bit until the cellphone alarm warned she was due in wardrobe.
    Gamers had some fanciful ideas about female armor. Amanda’s on-set version was little more than a bunch of black plastic leaves, sequins and layer after layer of paint and glitter applied to her skin. Kara added a spiky jet-beaded helmet and some skillful makeup, transforming her into an evil wraith queen.
    Of course, the armor left nothing to the imagination. There was no makeup on her buttocks or between her legs, just in case the clients decided to veer off script and pull her into the act. Even still, she hated to think how long it would take to remove it all later.
    Totally worth it, however. When she’d seen how much the two female clients had paid to bring this fantasy to life, she’d nearly fainted.
    When she met up with Ben, the lead exhibition performer, in the greenroom, he burst out laughing. “Holy… Guess what I’ll be dreaming about tonight? I mean, aside from Thomas chasing me with large knives.”
    Amanda stood still to let him have a look. Ben, unlike Jennifer, didn’t hold a grudge about the Paramour Project, though she had to admit, she wasn’t sure what to make of Ben anymore. Never, not once, had there been any hint of Ben’s association with the Paramour Project. Amanda had only learned of it when she’d been made an offer that incidentally exposed Ben as a trainer. And now she suspected there was plenty more to Ben Oliver than had so far made itself known.
    He hid very effectively behind the humor. Well, hiding wasn’t exactly the right word. The man was rather hard to miss, especially in tonight’s costume—what there was of it, anyway. He wore only a loincloth and special contact lenses. Under black lights, the contacts would make his eyes glow bright yellow.
    Amanda would wear