Who Wants to Be a Sex Goddess? by Gemma Bruce Page A

session.”
    â€œMiranda?” Rusty dropped to his hands and knees and began searching under the bed. One sandal flew out, then another. “Nice lady. But one day she just leaves without a word.”
    â€œDo you know why?”
    Rusty stopped and looked up at Dillon. “No. Why are you asking?”
    â€œJust something I overheard today. That she sort of…disappeared.”
    â€œYeah, well. You could call it that. Left during the night without a word of warning. At least not to me.” He stood up and slipped into his sandals. “I got my ass chewed out by the high mother honcho for mistreating her. Which I didn’t. Now I’m on probation. If it hadn’t been for Ms. Dane, I’d probably have been fired.” He shrugged and yanked his kilt out of the closet. “It wasn’t anything I did.”
    â€œYou and Demetri are both on probation?”
    â€œSeveral of us are. They run a mucho tight ship here. No stepping out of line. Which is hard to do when you’re never really sure where the lines are. I mean, if they want to fuck, you can fuck them. But if they don’t, you don’t. Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Just play it safe and you should be okay.”
    â€œDid this Miranda want you to…make love to her?”
    â€œNever came up. She was a very cool lady. Very desirable, though she was a good fifty or so. I think she must have been here for a refresher course, ’cause she had the moves.” He headed for the door.
    â€œAnd no one’s ever heard from her?”
    Rusty stopped and turned on Dillon. “No. What’s it to you, man?”
    â€œJust curious. I don’t want my goddess disappearing on me.”
    â€œYou sure as hell don’t. So be careful, because she looks about as skittish as they come.”
    Yeah, thought Dillon as he followed Rusty outside. There probably wouldn’t be any requests for any serious lovemaking from that quarter. Too bad. Because he thought that Ariadne McAllister might have a few moves of her own.
    â€œJust one more thing.”
    â€œWhat are you, the FBI?”
    Not on a cold day in hell, thought Dillon. “Nah, just curious. What did the honchos say about why she left?”
    â€œJust that she’d gone. And they didn’t hear from her again. At least not while the session lasted, because me and several others kept asking. Everybody really liked her.”
    â€œThese wealthy types, they never think about shit like that. Once she was away, she probably forgot all about you.”
    They’d reached the steps of the main building, and Rusty paused. “Not Miranda. She had bread, but she didn’t flaunt it or even seem to give too much of a shit about it. You coming in?”
    Dillon shook his head. “No. I’m not scheduled for another fifteen minutes.”
    â€œThen see ya later.” Rusty ran up the steps, leaving Dillon outside in the growing dusk.
    Â 
    Andy stood on the steps of the Pantheon, feeling rather pleased with herself. She was one of the few that had managed not to tell their life story or burst into tears during Jane’s class. Jane wasn’t the most patient group leader in the world and a few “um” s and “ah” s went a long way.
    She saw Loubelle’s slave, Rusty, hurrying across the lawn. Good. He’d been Mac’s slave the last session. He might know something about her disappearance.
    She put on her Ray-Bans and hurried down to intercept him. Then she saw who was with him. Mr. tall, dark, and wearing a kilt.
    She couldn’t question Rusty with Dillon looking on. She wasn’t sure she trusted him. All that loitering around during lunch. She’d been flattered, but the more she thought about it, the more he seemed like one of those James Bond villains. All finesse on the outside, lethal monster on the inside.
    She quickly ducked inside the closest copse of trees and watched them walk toward the