The Pleasure Bot (Planet Desire Book 4) Read Online Free Page A

their eyes.
    “Just imagine,” Agnes continued, “that you’re two strangers meeting for the first time.”
    The redhead’s scowl could have singed an oven. “First times suck!”
    “Perhaps you’ve been going out with the wrong men,” he purred, and then grinned at the acidic glance she shot his way.
    With a tomato-red flush of anger, she said, “There is no way this was programmed with me in mind. It’s impossible!”
    “Is his face so unattractive?” Agnes asked.
    “How should I know? I can’t see his face under all that stubble. He could be hiding a weak chin.”
    He lifted his brow and scratched his beard, feigning unconcern. A weak chin?
    Thunderclouds couldn’t match the fierce displeasure roiling in her stormy gray eyes.
    Declan’s grin stretched wider. Goading this one to anger should be a sport. He hadn’t had this much fun with a woman with his clothes on— ever . He scratched his balls for good measure.
    “Ugh! His manners are as disgusting as his smell.”
    “Is his body unappealing?” Agnes’s voice sounded a tad strained.
    “He’s too large.” Her gaze swept over him, pausing at his chest then trailing over his arms. “But he does have interesting bumps.”
    Bumps?
    Her hand reached out to smooth across the muscle on his forearm. “I don’t think I ever dated a man with bumpy arms.”
    Declan couldn’t resist. “If you’ll let me remove me breeches, you can touch me legs. The bumps are bigger.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Why would they give it sarcasm? Couldn’t they figure out I get enough from you, Agnes?” she said, aiming her shout to the ceiling. “Tell me again: it’s too late to return it for another model.”
    “It’s too late, boss.”
    “And I suppose it’s too much to hope it has a mute button?”
    “Damn straight!” Declan growled.
    The woman sighed. “I sure hope they knew what they were doing.”
    He planted his feet shoulder width apart. “So, shall I lose the pants?”
    She shook her head. “Just like a man. You don’t even know my name yet.”
    An imp of mischief must have been riding on his shoulder. “Why does that matter?”
    “What will you call me when we’re…”
    He raised a single brow, pretending not to understand.
    “You know…doing it.” Her frown deepened as her face was once again suffused with heat.
    “Woman?”
    Her face grew impossibly redder, warring with the bright hue of her hair, but he hadn’t missed her shiver. Was her exasperation stirring up more than just her temper?
    He flicked open the button at the top of his breeches.
    Her gaze flew up to his face. “Priscilla!” she shouted. “My name’s Priscilla!”
    “Priss? It fits.” His glance swept her from head to toe. Already he thought of the names he would torment her with when he was deep inside her pink cunt. “Prickly Priss”, if she ceded control reluctantly. “Prim Priss”, if blushes flooded her cheeks. “Pretty Priss”, if she melted beneath his loving.
    His cock stirred against his breeches, aching for ease. He quickly flicked open the next button.
    “Um…” She backed up a step. “A shower! There’s no way you’re coming near me until you’re clean. What the hell did you bathe in anyway?”
    “Whiskey,” he said with a grin.
    “Whiskey? How? It’s prohibited.”
    “He’s a smuggler,” Agnes interrupted.
    Declan knew the older woman’s game. She was trying to remove his only weapon—the truth—by making his occupation part of his role.
    “A smuggler? They think I want a criminal?”
    “I’m sure they were thinking opposites and all…” Agnes sounded a little desperate.
    “Agnes! Unless you care to join us, butt out!” he snarled.
    Priscilla giggled. A tinkling, feminine sound that so surprised him, he caught himself gaping.
    “Not so smart after all, are you?”
    Declan barely heard her words—didn’t care to understand. Her smile took his breath away. Pink, full lips stretched over white teeth and a glimpse of her pink