Rich Kid (The SPARK Files #3)

Chapter 2

Wallace

Wallace shifted his weight to the other foot. He’d been standing across the street for long enough to see the sign light up in a brilliant range of hues, announcing the name of the club: Prism.

The building didn’t look anything like he’d expected. It was constructed with sleek grays and soaring beams, the wide windows tinted for privacy. He’d expected to find it cheap and tawdry, with whores hanging out the windows, graffiti on the walls, and trash on the ground. Instead, it looked like an upscale club. The people entering were well dressed—some in suits or dresses, others in jeans, but none of them looked like the type of people who would pay to have sex with an android.

They just looked like normal people.

Maybe it was different inside.

Wallace wouldn’t know, because he hadn’t made it across the street yet.

He’d checked out the website and, reluctantly, submitted quite a bit of personal and financial information for their approval. He’d looked over all of their female sexbots, the experience slightly nauseating, no matter how lifelike they looked. Or perhaps because of how lifelike they looked.

He knew it shouldn’t bother him. He was the heir to Orbit robotics. He’d grown up surrounded by bots just like these, with their bright eyes and flawless skin, so chillingly real and impossibly beautiful.

He also snuck a few peeks at the male models with their endless muscles and knowing, seductive glances. They made him nauseous for a slightly different reason, as arousal and shame rose together in his belly.

They were still in that uncanny valley of creepiness, even though other people didn’t seem to see it, happy to interact with humanoid bots just like they did with people.

Maybe he just wouldn’t go in. It wasn’t like he’d made an appointment. He could come back another day.

He shifted his weight back to the other foot.

Maybe he could just… peek inside. Or ask to speak with the manager. Yes, that was what he would do. He’d ask to speak to the manager and say he was from Orbit Industries and wanted to see if any of their… uh… their sparks would be interested in participating in the development of an app.

Then he supposed they’d negotiate about money. That was the next step, right? Of course, Wallace didn’t know how much Ben was paying his people. Could he write it off as a business expense?

God, what would that look like, being reimbursed for a visit to Prism? Or telling them to invoice the department? No, he couldn’t do that. Everything about it just sounded mortifying.

Maybe he could just go in there and ask to talk to someone? Surely, he could do that. Maybe even pay them to explain what this whole kinky sex thing was about.

It was gathering information, right? He certainly didn’t want to try any of those dirty, enticing things himself. He just… needed to understand the mentality to develop the product.

Or maybe he could try it himself. Just once. To understand what the big deal was.

Not, like, with a spark, of course. He would interview the spark. Ask if they would be up in participating in a research study.

The experience would be… for his own research. With a non-sentient machine.

He would choose a female bot, of course. That was what would be expected of him, and despite all their assurances of privacy, he knew these things were never private.

So, he would choose a female bot and then he would… tell it to hit him with something? That part still didn’t make any sense to him.

Well, some of it maybe did. Some little kernel of excitement that seemed terribly wrong.

Maybe he would understand it if he tried it once.

Or maybe, since it was just a bot, he could ask for a male bot.

For research, of course. So that he could understand the market need. Not at all because he’d imagined himself, sometimes, in the place of the people he’d watched in the porn that Ben had attached to the report.

Weird, bizarre porn that made him embarrassingly aroused.

No, it wasn’t worth it. Because what if he hated it? How humiliating would that be?

He’d certainly put enough effort into regular sex, and had several exes to tell him how bad he was.

There was probably something wrong with him.

But if it was a machine, it wasn’t like anybody else would know, would they? A bot couldn’t laugh at him. They had to be programmed to be nice, right? To, uh, take care of their human client even if the client was, uh, terrible? Wasn’t that how it worked?

Or would he and some creepy robot just stand in some trashy bedroom looking at each other, with him unable to give the command to actually do something?

That’s why he was still standing across the street, letting the same options cycle through his head for the thousandth time.

Someone walked down the sidewalk and Wallace ducked back into the shadows. She gave him an odd look, but kept walking.

So, now Wallace was a creep, too. He knew that his father and brother would never have stood across the street looking like idiots. They would already be inside fucking something.

And now he needed brain bleach.

Wallace looked at the door again. It was a simple mirrored gray. It had a handle. He literally just had to walk across the street, grab the handle, swing the door open with his sweaty hands, and…

Yeah. He was going to screw this up. Maybe he should just go home and come back another day when he had a plan.

“Sir?”

Wallace didn’t look around immediately. He was sure the smooth, friendly voice wasn’t talking to him.

“Sir? Hello? Do you want to come in?”

Wallace finally looked up to find a man waving to him from the door of Prism. He had model-gorgeous looks, with sharp cheekbones and a dark streak of hair hanging artfully over his forehead. Wallace didn’t have a word for his clothing. His shirt was a tightly-wrapped creation of black mesh, a stiff collar, and billowing sleeves that begged to be touched and offered glimpses of his perfect olive skin. It tucked into black leather pants that could have been glued on, leaving nothing to the imagination.

He was the type of handsome that always intimidated Wallace, like he wouldn’t dare to speak in his presence. Wallace’s money, of course, meant he often did speak in the presence of such unfathomably beautiful people. They even pursued him, sometimes. But he always felt impossibly out of his depth.

Beautiful people were often mean people, whether to his face or behind his back.

Still, now that he’d been caught staring, he either needed to cross the street or run away fast and never come back.

It was tempting to just live with the shame of the second choice, but if he didn’t go in now, he wasn’t sure he ever would.

And a teensy-tiny part of him really wanted to go in.

He made an incredibly awkward wave to show he understood, then waited for traffic to clear and crossed the street. It was already embarrassing enough to be caught watching the building like a creeper, only to be called inside like a bumbling student on the playground.

The man was smiling, a blinding white smile that was too perfect to be anything natural. But of course, he probably wasn’t natural. Either he was a bot, or a human who made his money selling sex appeal. Or just sex.

Wallace found his feet carrying him closer to the building.

“Hi,” the man greeted him, welcoming him and ushering him through the door in one movement. “I’m Angel.”

Wallace wanted to respond, but he was distracted by the room they’d stepped into. He’d expected velvet on the walls and silk pillows on the floors, but instead it was a dignified lounge with polished wooden tables and cozy couches in small clusters. People sipped drinks and chatted with one another, or with the scattering of more brightly dressed bots.

He could spot the sexbots easily by their jewel-toned outfits and inviting displays of bare flesh. They were all types, from skinny to voluptuous to muscular, ranging in skin tone from the palest ivory to midnight black, and even one covered in blue and green scales. A few showed off their mechanical attributes, flashing black and silver limbs, though most appeared completely human. There were more female bots than male or androgynous, but that could have just been the sample in front of him at the moment.

He watched a few wander off with, uh, clients, down a long hallway, but none of them seemed to be in any hurry. Everything was very relaxed and sophisticated.

“Can I help you with something, Mr. Wollencroft?”

Wallace started at his name, heart racing as he turned back to face his host. Uh, Angel. It took him a moment to realize that of course Angel knew his name because he’d put in an application two days ago, with his photo included in his identifying information.

At least the space near the door had two white noise speakers nearby, so probably no one else had heard it.

Suddenly, he had no idea what to say.

His eyes caught movement behind Angel’s back, and he followed it. An adonis of a man was weaving through the room, bronzed muscles gleaming against the white loincloth around his waist with, of all things, a watering can and a step stool.

He chatted casually with a patron as he watered one of the little plants that Wallace had completely ignored as part of the scenery, before stepping back and finding the next plant.

Was he a sexbot? He had to be, dressed that way with that golden, glowing skin.

Wallace kept watching, entranced, as he unfolded the stool, walked up the two steps with thigh muscles bulging, and stretched upward to reach a small plant set high in the wall.

It didn’t even occur to Wallace to be embarrassed at watching him, because he was too perfect, too attractive, to be real. It was almost like watching a show, the actors imaginary and too far away to have anything to do with him.

Wallace startled at a gentle touch to his arm.

Right. Shit. Wallace was still standing in the lobby of Prism, and while his daydreams might be miles away, this was very, very real.

“Perhaps I can help you find someone?” Angel suggested.

“Uh…” Wallace started. “I’m not sure if I want to…”

Angel hooked his hand around Wallace’s elbow. “Nothing to worry about, sir. Everyone has a first time. Now, tell me what your naughty little heart desires, and we’ll make your fantasies come true.”

Wallace’s eyes flitted back to the man with the watering can, and just as quickly back to Angel. “I’m not really here to, um…”

Angel waited, his dark eyes piercing but kind. Truly, like one of the biblical angels who was too holy to look upon and could smite whole cities or heal the sick with just a glance at his radiant face. Couldn’t anyone in this place just look normal?

“I’m here for a project.” Now he sounded like he was in middle school. “I mean, I work for Orbit Robotics, and my team was thinking about developing a mod to, um…” He was going to say improve the performance of our sexbots , but then he realized how rude that might sound. Most of these models were probably purchased from Orbit. There were only three main manufacturers in the world, and Orbit dominated the U.S. market. “For subs? I mean, for sparks who want to, uh, submit? Is that…?”

“I see,” Angel replied smoothly, though he couldn’t possibly understand anything yet. “And were you, perhaps, looking to gain a deeper, say, first-hand understanding of the role?”

Wallace nodded, completely mute. How had Angel figured all of that out so quickly? Not what Wallace had planned, but what he’d maybe, just maybe, been considering?

“Our prices are listed here.” Angel pulled out a tablet, the lettering in sparkling gold on sleek black. It was pricey, but well within Wallace’s means. Less than he’d expected, actually.

“Are there, uh, any sparks?” That was who Ben was training the Dominance mod on, and it made everything that much more nerve-wracking.

Sexbots were just computers with sexy shells—mindless droids who did the tasks assigned to them, with sufficient artificial intelligence to carry on a seduction. They could record any information their programming required, but they didn’t truly feel or remember or connect.

Wallace was asking to meet with a SPARK—a Self-aware, Percipient Android, Robot, or Knowledge who might have augmented abilities or a different body shape, but was as sentient as any human.

Basically, he could ask to have, uh, sex, with a real person. Who he didn’t know. For money.

Or interview them. That was what he was going to do. Much easier to start there.

Angel didn’t blink, just flicked his fingers to the next screen. “Absolutely. Our rates are here. And what you do in that room is up to you—ask your questions or explore your wildest fantasies.”

Wallace nodded. That sounded like something he could do. He didn’t have to do anything sexual. He could just… talk or something. He’d even brought his tablet with a little slide show to review key points.

It would be fine.

“Uh, great,” Wallace managed.

“Let me introduce you to the talented spark who’s available this evening,” Angel purred. Then he turned and raised his voice over the hum of the crowd. “Volt?”

What kind of a name was Volt? Wallace followed Angel’s gaze.

And then he wished he hadn’t.

It was the man he’d been watching, the golden adonis in the loincloth.

He’d been sexy from a distance with his back turned, but now, looking at them with a warm smile on his face and a little curl of dark hair over his forehead, Wallace forgot how to breathe.

And his nipples. Fuck, his nipples.

Wallace told himself not to look at them.

But those flat, pink discs were so wide. The pebbled centers were so pert and pointy. Not at all like a woman’s, but they were… full, somehow. Lush. How could anyone look at that smooth, muscular chest and not imagine the feel of those nipples under their tongue?

Wallace forced his gaze up, but that didn’t make things any easier.

The bot’s eyes were a startling green against his bronzed skin, while his strong cheekbones seemed to be carved by a sculptor. His messy brown hair begged to be touched, and his grin, with those plush, pink lips, invited Wallace to do exactly that.

Did he truly have a dimple in his chin? He did, and it was breaking Wallace’s brain.

Wallace couldn’t stop looking as Volt drifted closer. His age was a mystery, an intriguing paradox. His body was hairless and glistening, including his pink-flushed cheeks, which made him look young. But his chestnut hair gleamed with what could just be a hint of gray and his eyes had the faintest wrinkles around them, giving him a sense of age and wisdom.

His eyes were kind. Warm.

Fuck. Those green eyes could be Wallace’s undoing.

Wallace reminded himself that algorithms trained on beautiful humans had been tweaked and perfected to artificially create such perfection.

It didn’t help. The spark was so far out of Wallace’s league, they weren’t even playing the same game.

He looked down and… nnnngh… Those nipples again. It was like they were having a whole other conversation with Wallace’s libido.

“Is there, uh, a woman available?” Wallace asked desperately. It was his last chance to take some control of this situation.

“No. Just Volt. But he’s very good.” The way Angel said it was a seduction all of its own.

Wallace swallowed hard. Volt had nearly reached them, striding across the room with grace despite his bulk.

And then he was there. The sparkle in his emerald eyes and the quirk of his lips said that he’d been waiting all day just for Wallace to arrive.

“Hello,” he said, voice deep and rumbly.

How could he be so seductive with a single word? It was obviously a trained behavior, either programmed or practiced to make more money.

But Wallace was still helpless before it. What would it be like for such a man to actually want him?

“To whom do I owe this pleasure?”

Wallace’s brain went completely offline. He should ask for another bot instead of a spark. A less attractive one. A woman, for crying out loud.

“This is Wallace,” Angel cut in smoothly. “He’s interested in learning about what we have to offer.” Somehow, he made it sound suggestive.

“Uh…”

Yup. That was what Wallace said. Uh.

Volt took his hand, his skin warm and all too human. “Well, I’d be pleased to support that exploration. If I’m to your liking, we can go somewhere with a little more privacy.”

Okay. Shit. This was why he had come here. Well, kind of. And there weren’t any other sparks available. Was he really doing this?

He found himself nodding, because he was a complete moron. He could never find words when he needed them. He hated to even make decisions, knowing they would always be wrong.

Yet when Volt beamed at him, like this was the perfect response, he thought he was going to melt.

“Excellent.” Angel clasped his hands together. “Volt will take good care of you.”

Wallace nodded again and followed when Volt pulled him across the floor. It wasn’t Volt’s abilities that he was doubting. It was what the hell he was doing here.

And how stupid he would look if he actually tried to… do anything.