Colter's Revenge Read Free Page B

snug. He reached up and adjusted his bright blue tie, trying to loosen the stranglehold from around his neck. Why S.K.U.L.L. had insisted he wear this business outfit was beyond him. He would have preferred to break into Dr. Blakely’s widow’s suite and search for the cure, grab it and clear out. But S.K.U.L.L. had gone to great lengths to create an elaborate, foolproof, fictional cover for him as a doctor who worked for a research facility. They’d also supplied him with a fake ID, had arranged for anyone who might recognize him there to be away on business. S.K.U.L.L. had also arranged for him to have a private cabin along with a private sex slave to cater to his every whim while he was there. How the hell could he turn down his own slave? He’d have to be mad to do that, wouldn’t he?
    Colter frowned. There really was only one black-haired, blue-eyed woman who held any appeal to him. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a clue where she was, and she’d made it perfectly clear she didn’t want him anyway.
    “We’re here, Dr. Van Dusen,” said the limo driver.
    Pleasure Palace looked even fancier close up, Colter mused as he stepped out of the vehicle and quickly gazed around. Red ceramic tiles covered the multi-peaked roof. White marble walls sparkled in the bright sunshine and blood-red shutters adorned the numerous barred windows.
    A moment later his driver was quickly ushering him past the heavily armed guards and inside to a main foyer.
    The place looked utterly extravagant. Crystal chandeliers hung everywhere, the floors were pink marble and plush, red velvet furniture adorned the lobby. Colter felt his mouth literally drop open in shock when he noticed a fully dressed man sitting on a couch in a side foyer casually reading a newspaper while a naked woman with an obviously just spanked, flushed red ass knelt on her knees in front of him. Her large breasts jiggled as she busily shined his shoes. Unbelievable.
    13
    Jan Springer
    “Dr. Colter Van Dusen?”
    A woman’s soft voice snapped him from the shocking scene and he turned around to face a beautiful brunette of about fifty with sparkling brown eyes. He recognized her instantly from the pictures S.K.U.L.L. had asked him to memorize. Dr. Cheri Blakely. This was the widow of the scientist he’d killed. Now that he was meeting her in person, it was hard to imagine this gorgeous woman having been married to the mad doctor who had almost wiped out the female race by selling a submissive virus to the DogmarX, a group of terrorists who believed all women should be submissive to men.
    “Please take care of the doctor’s luggage, driver,” she said to his limo driver. When the man left to do her bidding, she extended her elegant hand to him. Her fingers, laden with diamond and sapphire rings, felt velvety warm against his palm. Her wrists were adorned with an array of gold bracelets that clinked as they shook hands. He didn’t miss the extra squeeze she gave him just before they parted.
    “I recognized you from the portfolio your company Lamp Light Research sent to me. I’m Dr. Cheri Blakely. I’m pleased you could take the time out of your busy schedule to make it for the conference.”
    “I’m pleased to be here,” he lied. “My company is very interested in purchasing the cure for the X-virus mutation C.”
    “My, you do get down to business rather quickly, don’t you?” she chuckled.
    “Didn’t anyone tell you that all business and no pleasure makes for a very boring convention?”
    Before he could answer, she clicked her fingers.
    Two burly, bare-chested men came down a nearby hallway with a barely clothed, very young woman walking between them.
    Sweet Jesus. The woman looked absolutely stunning.
    Another roar of heated blood coursed through his veins at the sight of the black leather halter-thong teddy. Her young, curvy body was barely concealed beneath a delicate mesh cloth. It left little to his imagination.
    Her head was bowed in a subservient