Page 13 of Baited

“I believe you, big Gryn,” Rych says, voice dancing with mirth. “I’m sure there wasno oneyou’ll ever let touch you.”

I want him to go away. I want to think about Izzy and deal with the fact the thought of her makes my pants oddly tight in a way I’m not entirely sure I like. I want to readjust myself, but something tells me Rych will make a big deal of it.

“So, are you going to the pleasure house again?” he asks.

I shake my head, knowing nothing, nothing could keep me away.

IZZY

“So, all you have to do is touch him? And you get fifty percent?” Riklinn’s eyes are huge as she stares at me in the mirror while putting on her makeup.

She’s wearing a dress which is practically all gossamer and see through. It leaves little to the imagination, but she’s so much happier now she’s dancing and not the other thing.

“I don’t have to touch him. I have to get him to accept being touched by…well, by someone else who isn’t holding a sword or any sort of weapon,” I reply.

Given Blayn was partially willing to be put into restraints which bit deep into his flesh, and he’s covered in tattoos, not all touch is abhorrent to him.

“You could whip him,” Riklinn says. “Some males like that sort of thing.”

“I doubt this one would. I don’t think he gets his kicks from being whipped.”

In fact, it’s hard to work out what might interest Blayn at all. Other than a bath and food.

All the other pleasure workers have gone out of their way to tell my how dangerous a gladiator is. None of them have gone any way to making me feel better about my first customer. Beingalive after a few nova-hours in a room with him is apparently, a miracle.

I was bracing myself to do the horizontal mambo for credits, but I wasn’t expecting to instead be hoping my head stays on my shoulders by the end of each session.

This truly is a poison chalice of an assignment, and both the Madame and Yelii know it. She hasn’t said a word to me since I took over, and no doubt she knows I renegotiated terms.

“What are you going to wear for tonight?” Riklinn asks me.

I look down at my current outfit. Practical red harem pants, which are comfortable and breezy when I’m cleaning and a crop top in a matching color, which strains a little against my bosom, given I’ve always been well endowed and even the stress of finding myself in a whole new galaxy hasn’t reduced them by much.

“This, probably.”

“You can’t!” Riklinn gasps. “You need to look gorgeous for him, tempt him. Get him wanting to touchyou. Then you can offer to do the same in return.”

Somehow, I don’t think Blayn works that way, but then who am I to second guess anything about this huge, dark Gryn male.

“I’d prefer to be able to run if I need to.” I look at her impossible hover heels. “And for the time being, I think I’ll stick to what I’m comfortable in.”

Riklinn shrugs. “If you change your mind, you know you only have to ask to borrow anything of mine.”

“There you are!” Madame pokes her head around the curtain and glares at me. “The dome has been in contact. The gladiator will be here in ten nova-minutes.” She looks me up and down but doesn’t comment on my outfit. “Did you get near him last night?”

“No.”

“So, we fed a gladiator,” she huffs. “Good thing they’re paying top credits for this treatment.” She flicks the curtain shut, and I hear her jewelry jingle as she goes to annoy someone else.

“Thanks for the good luck wishes,” I mutter. “Maybe I won’t get eaten tonight.”

“Or maybe you will,” Riklinn says with a slow wink of one of her huge eyes.

“Really? From you?” I elbow her in the side, and she squeaks out a laugh. “I expected better.”

“You’ll be fine, Izzy. He’s not going to hurt you, or he’d have done it already,” she says in all seriousness, and my heart rate lowers. “And for all her bluster, Madame is not going to let a dangerous killer loose in here unless she’s had all the reassurances from the dome.”

Great, it’s right back up there again.

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