J’are whooped with her and laughed as he bounced too. Imani put a hand to her face and realized the corners of her mouth hurt from smiling. Had she been grinning like a fool the whole time they were swimming? She felt like she must have been. She had the same feeling she’d had as a kid when she rode a rollercoaster—a scary but exciting thrill that made her heart beat faster and her adrenaline rush.
“That was so much fun!” she gushed to J’are as he took her hand and they walked in big, bouncy steps over to the exit. “I wish we could do it again.” She sighed. “But I’m afraid we have to get ready to go—it took me forever to get a ride to the legal building yesterday so there’s no time to spare.”
“It did?” J’are frowned. “But it’s not that far from here. Why did it take so long?”
Imani told him about all the drivers who wouldn’t take her and then the one who had but who had insisted on giving her a tour of the city first and then dropping her off on the wrong side of the road.
“Of course, all those drivers were those awful praying mantises—those morphids,” she added and frowned. “Considering what happened with them—the attack on the bridge and the tray bomb this morning, I can’t help wondering if all of them were working together to try and make me miss my court date.” She looked at J’are. “Or is that paranoid of me?”
“Not at all.” He shook his head. “Morphids have a hive mind—they report back to a queen, who tells them what to do. As many as you encountered yesterday, it’s not impossible that they were all from the same hive and taking orders from the same person.”
“You know, your mother’s niece, Lady Bittlebum, had one with her in court yesterday,” Imani said thoughtfully.
“Yes, because they’re cheaper than owning more bodyslaves,” J’are shrugged.
“But…do you think it’s possible she’s behind all this?” Imani raised her eyebrows at him.
J’are frowned.
“I suppose it’s possible but what’s her motive? Why would she want to kill Mistress Zangelo? They were friends—at least as far as I could tell.” He shook his head. “I just can’t think of a reason why she would want to off Lady Z and then cover it up.”
“Well…” Imani sighed. “I guess all we can do is keep our eyes open and get ready to go to court.”
“But you don’t have to rush,” J’are told her. “There’s a hover car service attached to the upper level so clients can come and go, getting spa treatments without having to visit the lower levels if they don’t want to. We can get a car there and be at the legal building in fifteen minutes.”
“That would certainly be better than all the back-and-forthing I had to do yesterday to get there,” Imani admitted. “But will they still have to drop us off on the other side of the road?”
“Of course not.” J’are frowned. “I never heard of any car service doing something like that before. Maybe you’re right and someone didn’t want you to get to court. All you have to do is ask them to drop you at the hover entrance—it’s located three stories up so you bypass the lobby.”
“That sounds perfect.” Imani nodded. “Can we go order a hover car and let them know what time we want to leave? If we can get that settled, I’d love to go for another dip in the pool.”
“I’d like that,” J’are growled softly, looking her up and down.
Imani became suddenly aware that her tiny, thin white suit was now completely transparent. She hadn’t really noticed it when they were swimming because she’d been so excited but now she felt self-conscious again.
Also, had the white suit shrunk in the water? It seemed that the tiny triangles were even smaller, so that just the tips of her nipples were covered now. Looking down, she saw that the triangle which was supposed to be covering her pussy was now no bigger than a penny and wasn’t covering much of anything at all. It had gotten pulled up so that it was resting on the top of her mound and only the thin white string at its bottom was covering her slit.
“Um, are there towels anywhere?” she asked, looking around. “I think this suit has shrunk somehow.”
“Oh, it’s supposed to,” J’are said casually. “That’s the way the Yonnite Mistresses like it—they want to show off at the pool, you know.”
“Well, I’d like to cover up—I’m cold,” Imani said, putting her arms across her chest and shivering. “And yours didn’t shrink. Or, er, maybe it did,” she added doubtfully, eyeing the white speedo which emphasized his tan skin.
Maybe it wasn’t that his suit had shrunk, so much as what was inside it had grown, she thought. The outline of his long, thick shaft, standing up against his belly, was clearly evident through the wet fabric.
“Sorry,” J’are said gruffly when he saw where her eyes had landed. “Can’t help myself when you look so fucking beautiful. I know I’m just your client and you’re just my Defender, but damn, Imani—you look amazing in that little suit.”
“Oh, uh, thank you.” Imani could feel her cheeks getting hot. She had a sudden urge to step up and rub herself against him—to let him feel the hard points of her nipples against his broad chest. But of course she couldn’t do that. Pushing the impulse sternly away, she said, “Maybe…maybe we both need a towel.”
“Here.” J’are led her to a cart piled high with soft, fluffy towels and Imani wrapped one around herself gratefully. It really was chilly now that they were out of the water. “Better?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Imani nodded.
“Much better—thank you.”
“Good.” J’are nodded. “Then let’s go order that car and
