Chapter 4

FOUR

Z ed insisted on breakfast out the next morning, mostly so he wouldn't have to watch the workers going in and out of the bedroom, feeling a flush rise in his cheeks every time. It had been embarrassing enough to have to report the damage to the concierge—they couldn't let it go untended, especially since it affected the nice people next door—but the sidelong looks from the two women patching the wall were more than he could take.

Luckily, the breakfast place had everything from sweet and spicy oatmeal to eggs and bacon to some sort of dish that was supposed to be a human-safe version of an ashushk specialty. In other words, not something Flick could complain about. He wasn't normally one to care much about what he ate, but if the opportunity arose and they had time for it, he liked to try new stuff.

"Sure you don't want some coffee? Perhaps some tea?"

Flick's eyes twinkled at the server's question. Unlike a lot of restaurants, this place employed actual people as wait staff rather than depending on bots. For the personal touch, Zed supposed. Though he could do without the questioning of his order.

"I'm good with juice, thank you," he said evenly, adding a smile to emphasize he was really okay with the pineapple juice sitting on the table in front of him. As the server left, Zed lowered a glare on Flick. "Don't say a word."

As always, Flick ignored him. "So a trace amount of caffeine through the skin results in a boner that won't quit until you've come twice. What does drinking a cup of coffee do?"

Zed shifted in his seat, remembering the first—and last—full cup of coffee he'd had after Project Dreamweaver. "Use your imagination."

"I think you're supposed to contact a doctor if your erection lasts for more than four hours."

"Ha ha. Eat your breakfast, Mr. Comedian." Zed scooped up the last of his eggs benedict and ate it, then laid his utensils across his plate. "What do you want to do today?"

"Let's rent one of the fantasy suites."

Zed's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Seriously. I've been thinking about it a lot. I had fun last night, but it'd be even better if we don't have to worry about breaking things. And besides, when are we going to have a chance to do this again?"

"Fair point." Zed pulled out his wallet and flipped through screens until he found what he was looking for. "The Transcendent Ecstasy suite is available."

"That's the most expensive, right?"

"Might as well do it right." With the press of a finger, Zed booked it. "Finish your breakfast."

"Maybe we should take some to-go coffee with us. You know…for fun."

Zed scowled. "It's not too late to get divorced."

"Oh, don't kid yourself." Flick chuckled. "It's been too late our entire lives."

The Transcendent Ecstasy Suite was…a bit underwhelming.

Flick took a few steps past the threshold and spun, slowly, taking in the whole lot of nothing in the room. The walls were white and bare, and other than the massive and comfortable-looking bed in the center of the room, there was nothing.

Flick turned a sardonically raised eyebrow on Zed. "I think we might've gotten conned."

Zed stepped over the threshold and let the door close fully behind him. As soon as it clicked shut, the room exploded into color. Instead of standing in the middle of an institutional room, they stood in the midst of a rainforest, surrounded by a riot of flowers. Every color in the rainbow flickered around them—and some Zed couldn't identify.

"That's more like it," Flick said with a smile and a nod.

"Please approach the bed," a pleasant female voice said. It came from no single direction.

Shooting a look at Flick, Zed grabbed his husband's human hand and followed the directions. Light flared around them and a female dressed in a flowing white toga-like dress appeared. She hovered about a foot off the ground, and the perfection of her skin and the light from within gave away that she was nothing more than an artificial construct.

"Welcome to Xanadu Suites. You have selected the Transcendent Ecstasy Suite, our most luxurious and immersive experience. With our holographic and biofeedback technology, we will transform this suite into a fantasy location to help you achieve the transcendent heights of your desire."

Flick waggled his brows. "Can't wait to experience a transcendent height of my desire."

Zed shushed him as their hostess continued. "Please select a category to explore. Historical, Modern, Futuristic, Fantasy, Alien."

"Uh…" Zed shared a look with Flick. Historical might be okay. He didn't really want to have to bend and twist his brain to do futuristic or fantasy, though. And alien? With his luck, that would put a giant bug-like stin in the center of the room. "Modern."

"Good choice," Flick murmured.

"Modern," the hostess confirmed. "Please select a subcategory. Reunited After War, Stranded on a Deserted Planet…"

Zed shared a look with Flick.

"Colony Life, Station Life, Star-Crossed Lovers…"

Flick was frowning.

"Non-Specific Erotic?—"

"Yep. Let's go with that one," Flick said.

"Non-Specific Erotic Fantasy," the hostess confirmed. "First option: The Club With No Name."

The hostess suddenly disappeared and the room dimmed, the forest replaced by a night-time scene. Before them was a bar that looked like it was a few dozen feet away. It couldn't be…but damn. Whoever had created this illusion had been good . Zed could feel the coolness of the night air and hear the soft sound of nocturnal creatures in the distance.

"The Club With No Name," began a male voice, low and gruff, "has a particular reputation." The image moved closer, slowly, and Zed could almost convince himself he was moving. So weird . "It's said that within its walls, any sort of pleasure can be found. Tame, exotic—anything is fair game." Suddenly they were inside the club, watching a man and woman gyrate on a stage, covered with only enough fabric to leave the barest bit to the imagination. "They say that this is the place to go if you want to watch—or be watched. Or…both." The dancers stopped and looked directly at him and Flick, their faces open and sultrily welcoming. The man stroked his black-leather covered cock, making it clear he was hard, and the woman slipped fingers into her red lace panties.

"Are you game?" the announcer asked.

"Please state Yes, Not My Taste, or Next Selection," their hostess said.

"Next Selection," Flick said.

"But that…" Zed pressed his palm against the ridge in his pants.

"Yeah, I know. But maybe there's something better."

"Second option: Project Creamweaver."

Zed's gaze snapped to Flick's. No…they wouldn't…

The room changed to a space field, black with tiny pricks of light. "The galaxy is dangerous and deadly," the announcer intoned in his deep and growly voice. "It takes dangerous and deadly people to keep it safe. And the most dangerous and deadly of them all belong to Project Creamweaver."

Suddenly they were in a bunk room, with four other men in various stages of undress. Most were shirtless, but wearing camo pants. One wore only tiny booty shorts, not something the military would ever issue.

"Meet the men of the Project. Dagger, the weapons specialist." The image focused on a darkly handsome man leaning against one of the bunks, his arms crossed. "Blake, the martial artist." A short blonde guy, the one wearing the booty shorts, ran through a couple of showy kicks. "Spice, demo expert." A lanky redhead winked in their direction. "And finally, Zane, the leader." A tall, broad, dark-haired man looked at them, calmly, coolly, the intricate tattoo on his left wrist just barely visible.

"Holy shit," Zed whispered.

"Their special abilities keep the galaxy safe, but no one knows what they have to do to keep up their energy."

"I'm feeling kinda low," Blake said. "I need to be fucked!" He sloughed off his shorts and stuck his ass in the air. Spice, the redhead, leaped into action, shoving his face in Blake's buttocks and proceeding to rim him like a pro, if the moans and squeals were any indication. A second later, he slid his porn-star sized cock into Blake's ass. Zed hoped there was a scene or two cut where Spice actually applied lube or more spit or something .

"Fuck me harder! I need more power!" Blake screamed.

"As the newest recruits to Project Creamweaver, you're about to find out just how far each and every one of these men is willing to go to stay powered up and ready for action," the announcer intoned over Blake's cries. "You'll discover just how much effort Dagger, Blake, Spice and their leader Zane put into making sure their abilities will never falter when the dangerous and deadly galaxy needs their dark and deadly powers."

"Please state Yes, Not My Taste, or Next Selection."

Zed couldn't summon words. They were just…gone, stolen from him by what he'd just witnessed. They'd turned Project Dreamweaver into a porno. It was disrespectful, awful—and he realized that if Emma and the rest of them were around, they'd be rolling on the floor laughing, unable to breathe. Assuming Emma would stop yelling about the fact that she and her fellow female comrades had been left out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Please state Yes, Not My Taste, or Next Selection."

"That was real, right?" Flick whispered.

Zed licked his lips. "Yep."

"Thank you for your selection! Have a transcendent experience."

"What? No! Shit!" Zed flailed a hand. "Stop! Not this one!"

"The year is 2260 and the galaxy is proving even more dangerous and deadly than expected?—"

There was a fizz and a pop, and the regular lights suddenly flared to full brightness. Zed turned to see Felix holding out his bracelet comm and a grim look on his face. "I had to short it out to stop it. Sorry. That's probably going to be another damage bill."

Zed wrapped Flick up in a tight hug. "So worth it."