Naomi Lucas - [Cyborg Shifters 04] - Mutt
Page 5
She nodded.
Reid leaned back and rubbed his hand over his mouth in thought. His other hand tapped against the armrest. What had he gotten himself into?
“Do you have any idea where he could be keeping her?”
Her voice was tight, “No, but Santino recently got out of prison and checked into a halfway house in Dallas. Any resources he has would've had to be from someone he knew prior to his imprisonment or someone he met during.”
Reid got up and walked behind the reception desk, where he unlocked a drawer and pulled out a bottle of rum. He poured two lowball glasses before retaking his seat and handing one to her. She downed it in one go despite her teeth clanking into the cup. Reid held back a mirthless smile as he downed his own glass.
“Thanks,” she said. He took her glass in response and set it aside.
“Santino?”
“I shouldn't have told you his name, I shouldn't be telling you any of this.” Marsha ran her fingers across her temple. “My commander is going to be furious if he finds out but what am I to do? I'm in trouble regardless.” She shook her head and cringed again. “I can't think straight. I want her back, and until she's back I can't think straight.”
She hadn't answered his question but he let it slide. He was great at reading people, one of the best. He could do it without looking at them, without speaking to them, without hearing them, he could do it—read them just by scenting alone.
His senses were powerful, not only because of the tech inside of him but because of the DNA that was spliced into his cells. There was nothing quite like his sense of smell. His fingers twitched on his thigh. Even now he could smell her, Clara, from across the facility—behind a dozen doors, he could smell her.
Only a day had gone by and her scent made him uncomfortable. It did things to him he wasn’t thrilled about.
She wants me.
He couldn't deny the slick arousal before her surgery and it had taken everything within himself to not shut her mouth with his, peel down her underwear, and slam himself inside of her. His lips twisted. How was he going to survive three months?
“Well, Marsha, I'm afraid I can't let you leave.”
Being a dick came easy to him.
Chapter Seven
Clara woke slowly like the sun ascending the sky at dawn. She felt soft, comfortable, and the cloud she lay upon hugged and supported her in all the right places.
I'm on a cloud. She giggled to herself and blinked. She looked around and her eyes landed on Dr. Canis—no— Reid who sat beside her.
Her lips pressed up into a soft smile. “Are you on a cloud too?” She barely heard her own voice. His eyes flashed, black and dark. Not dawn, she mused to herself. Somehow, his eyes reminded her of something that she couldn't quite remember exactly, and despite the intense heat of his gaze, she couldn't look away.
“No, Clara, I'm not on a cloud.” He leaned closer to her but she felt too good to move back.
“That's too bad, my cloud feels great.” She laughed softly, feeling wonderful.
“Is that so?”
“I would never lie!” To prove it, she shook her hips, showing off the voluminous thing that covered every part of her. His eyes dipped down. She giggled and swayed them again. His Adam's apple bobbed over his throat and Clara had an urge to wrap her lips around it. “I wonder if it tastes like apples too?”
“What?” Reid’s eyes shot back to hers.
“I said that out loud,” she stated more for herself, then smiled. “Apples are food of the gods.” Clara stretched as she said it, loving the feel of air on her skin.
“So are berries.”
“Hmm. Yes. I agree.”
His hand moved over her and pressed down on her torso right below her breasts to stop her from moving. It was like a burn, a brand, over the center of her body.
“Stop moving. You're still recovering. How do you feel?”
She reached up and gripped his wrist with both of her hands. His hand pressed further into her and it warmed her from the inside out.
“I feel good.” Clara licked her lips and squeezed his wrist tighter. “You make me feel warm.” He started to pull his hand away but she stopped him. “Don't go... I like it.”
Reid relaxed by degrees. She could almost count each different expression he made as he went from heated strain to soft kindness. It moved her.
Clara closed her eyes hard and forced the pleasure-inducing haziness away. She let go of his wrist with remorse as hints of memory came back.
Surgery. I had surgery. Asshole doctor. Her hands dropped to her sides and she bit back her embarrassment. Cyborg breeding facility...
Fixed. Her eyes shot open, and she tried to lean up to look down at herself.
“Don't. There's time for that later.” Reid stopped her this time with a hand on her shoulder.
She settled back down.
“Am I fixed?”
“Your surgery was successful. Fixed though? I don’t know.”
Asshole. But a sigh of relief escaped her and as she settled back into the cloud—medical bed, happy, she closed her eyes to bask by herself because this moment was hers and hers alone. Reid won’t ruin it. Won’t let him.
Yep. Those memories were really coming back now.
Clara suddenly felt his hands on her pelvis. Her eyes shot open to find Reid looking down at her belly. She was practically naked and this time awake for it. It made it difficult for her to stomach the situation, especially given that the procedure was over and an attractive, intimidating man stood over her. His fingers slipped across her skin, the sensation amazing under the haze of the painkillers.
Her scars!
“What are you looking at?” she asked quickly.
“Your incisions. They’re healing well.”
But my scars... Clara gulped. “That's good.”
He met her eyes as he pulled down her shift and covered her back up. Everything he did was professional but somehow it felt extremely intimate and personal. If she could think properly, she knew her body would be flushed and her face would blush, and blushes never looked good on her. “When can I move again?”
“A day, maybe less.”
“So soon?”
“You had a multimillion-dollar procedure done by two machines that cost half a billion. Yes, by this time tomorrow you could run a marathon.”
Clara settled back, allowing her body to relax. “I like that. And having babies?”
His eyes hooded and she didn't know why. He danced between hot and cold one minute, a doctor the next, and a caring individual third.
“You could do that too tomorrow but I'd give it a couple more days,” he leveled and turned away. She watched him peel off his latex gloves and throw them in the biohazard trash.
“I'd like to try as soon as possible.”
He pulled off his lab coat, his movements restrained yet taut. “Tomorrow then,” he said, voice cold.
She didn't let it bother her. Instead, leaned her head up to look down at her body and smiled. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
Reid turned away from her, looking at something she couldn't see. Her eyes roved over his back, his butt and his wide stance. He looked like a soldier, a commander, a man who had an army at his beck and call.
She could imagine the beautiful outline of his muscles underneath his clothes, his tight skin, unmarked by human imperfection, powerful beyond belief. If she hadn't so recently sworn off men, she would've appreciated the commanding presence he exhibited, but now it served as merely a test of self-discipline and preservation.
Maybe he didn’t count. After all, Reid isn’t technically a man. Why does he have to be so damn attractive? she humphed to herself and looked up at the ceiling. The silence lingered and the pleasure faded. Every new moment that passed only made her more tired and irritable.
“Dr. Reid?”
“Yes?”
“How long have I been out... under? I must've been asleep for the past decade.
”
“A little less than a day. The cybernetics can take a toll on one's body especially if you're not used to it. I kept you under to give you the extra rest.”
“Oh.” She processed his words and allowed them to sink again, but her mind was still on the edge of muddied and incoherent. If someone were to tell her dragons were real right now, she would probably believe them. Fervently. Something was off... Her moods swung back and forth like a pendulum. “Where's all the blood?”
I'm so full of questions! She felt like a kid again.
Her vision swirled.
“The pod uses varying degrees of lasers when it comes to surgery. So do I. Your bedding remains clean.”
His answer didn't answer much. Her eyes wavered back and forth across the stark room and she could've sworn she saw a dragon gliding lazily back and forth, taunting her like Reid’s deep voice had.
“I don't like blood.”
“Not many people do.”
“Do you?” She gave up on the dragon.
“I'm indifferent to it.”
Her vision steadied as she focused on him.
I used to be indifferent to it... She wouldn't let that thought continue. “I guess you'd have to not care about it if you're a doctor. A Cyborg as well.”
“Some Cyborgs, Clara, love blood. I'm not one of them. I prefer cleanliness, good health, and order.”
I prefer those things too, especially now that you said it. She jittered.
“I bet that you prefer those things in bed too.” She laughed at her own joke, unfazed by her crassness and yet hoping that Reid responded to her in some way.
It was hard to form an opinion on someone who had such a wide range of temperament. Hard and soft, hot and cold, and all within a microsecond. If she could get him into a middling mood, she would call that a win. The game formed in Clara's mind. She felt too good right now to deny herself.
But he was still turned away from her.
“I hope you're able to give me kids.”
She desperately wanted to move her fingers over her abdomen like he had... but didn't dare.
He still didn't answer or respond, and Clara figured he wouldn't have to as sleep dug its claws in, pulling her under and ending the game before it even began. Her eyelids grew heavy and she closed them.
“We’ll see.”
She pried them back open and Reid’s dark gaze filled her vision again as he leaned over her.
“Sleep now. Rest.” His voice was deep and smooth and commanding. Clara gave in without a thought and greedily dove deep into the black abyss of oblivion, an endless pool that resembled his gaze.
WHEN SHE WOKE AGAIN sometime later, she was back in her room and didn't feel nearly as good as she had the first time.
She was far too lucid to be happy. Looking across the bed where the time was displayed, it read early morning.
Clara stretched her body, and only minor aches and a weak bout of nausea made themselves known. Her stomach also felt tight.
She leaned up on her arms to inspect it but caught sight of the metal dog curled up in a half donut at the end of her bed. It was watching her in the low light, its jaw resting on its front paws; it was as still as a stone gargoyle on an ancient monument. Hopefully just as protective, too?
Her companion had never looked more adorable and less threatening. Gingerly shifting on the bed, she curled up in front and laid her head down on the mattress facing it. The dog’s head lifted slightly before settling back down.
“I love dogs.” Clara slid her fingers over its head. If she could never have children, she would adopt a bunch of cats and dogs.
The canine looked at her lazily and without emotion; it didn’t stop her from loving it. She continued to pet the metal-plated skin over its neck and back while her other hand reached out and cupped her curved belly. She could feel the remaining glue that held her incisions together and the bizarre tautness that it provided.
For the first time in years, she finally felt whole. It felt like her fairy godmother had finally granted her most fervent wish. Right below her hand was the first step in taking back control of her life.
She was determined to be pregnant by the end of this day.
Clara grumbled and sank into the bedding.
“I’m glad you're here with me,” she said softly. The dog had no reaction and she sighed sadly to herself. “No one's ever been there for me. Not in any way that matters. Not without expecting something in return.”
Stop wallowing. Today’s going to be a good day. She closed her eyes and allowed herself the luxury of waking up properly.
She didn't know how much time had passed, but when she sat up later she was more awake and the small aches she had earlier were gone. When her feet touched the ground, the world didn't spin. That was a good sign—or maybe it wasn’t. She wasn’t a doctor, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to ask her doctor.
Her body was somewhat steady; she knew that much. At least I’m on the other side of the procedure.
As she rose the rest of the way to her feet, her companion jumped off the bed and went to her side. It pressed its head into her open hand and helped her balance.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling as it escorted her to the bathroom. When her fingers clutched the doorknob, it sat back.
“I'll be right out,” she told it before she closed the door and showered.
Clara grabbed a wet towel and soaped up her body, making sure to be careful around the incisions. Faint scars remained from her past but no new ones would form. Even now where her skin was pink, the cuts that had opened her up were almost invisible. When they healed, they would only be a memory.
Those would’ve been scars she wouldn’t be embarrassed about, like a tattoo commemorating her rebirth onto a new path. She frowned at the thought and looked down at herself, at all of her curves, and wondered if a man like Reid could ever find her attractive. She wasn't toned or slender like many of the women who she usually encountered outside the facility.
Growing up, Clara refused to take the bodily enhancements that regulated the human system. She liked the body she was in, even if others found it odd that she did. It was hers and hers alone.
Santino had tried to take that from her, thoroughly and invasively. Even now she fought every single day to regain what he had robbed from her.
Clara curled her hands over the basin and squeezed the metal, squeezing the hollow pain of her past out with it. Looking at her reflection only reminded her of the features that had caught Santino’s notice all those years ago.
I’d been born with pretty eyes and soft innocence. She never saw that innocence but her ex liked to make a big deal out of it whenever he felt like taking it away. And he took it all away.
Back in the foster care system, Santino had burst into her life like a bomb, and she had no protection against such weapons. Clara had caught his notice on the street one day, and he drew her in like a starving kid seeking affection, literally. He shaped her into his little shadow and she grew addicted to the security he gave her... and his twisted control.
Even now, she craved it. In the deepest parts of her soul, she was attracted to the dominance he had over her. But Santino’s image filled her with disgust, and whenever she fantasized about losing control, the pain returned to her scars. Where he stabbed the life straight out of her.
She dropped the washcloth into the basin and watched the soapy water get sucked down into the drain.
You don't own me now. She looked at the incision and the straight line it made through several of her scars. Reid gave back some of what Santino had stolen. Her heart thumped.
Clara wouldn't admit that she wanted the doctor, nor acknowledge the thoughts that kept inserting themselves in her head about their situation. Cyborg breeding facility. Breed with a Cyborg? Interesting. Interested. Stop! That line of thought was enough to summon dozens of scenarios, and each of them ended with her naked and Reid sliding deep inside her.
She squeezed her legs togeth
er and tried to deny her arousal.
I always fall for the wrong men. And even the right ones end up being wrong. Clara tried not to think about her ex-fiancé.
She spread a towel on the floor, sat on it and spread her legs, telling herself the entire time that it was simply pent up sexual frustration—that having an orgasm would clear her head and solve all of her problems.
She ran her fingers through her sex, already silken and slippery. The small thatch of curls that she maintained at the apex of her groin was still damp from bathing. It only served to heighten the sensation and the pressure between her thighs. Clara lay back and found her clit, thrumming it with her thumb as her fingers moved in sync inside her.
The sensations grew, but so did the frustration. She thought about him and the heat of his hand on her torso, his long, precise fingers that had made her whole.
She imagined lying on the medical pod with her legs spread and his fingers sliding into her, where one moment he was professional, and the next he was probing her, playing at being a doctor. Forcing her to submit to him and no one else. Dark light and piercing eyes filled her head.
Clara pressed her fingers deeper in and found the sensitive wrinkle; a hungry moan left her lips.
Her orgasm came out of nowhere and her body shook, feeling every shockwave zing her nerves. She thrust her hips into the air and twitched against each pulse. Her head shook from side to side as the sensations took over. Her hand was soaked, her legs were wet, and the perfume of her arousal and sweat hit her nose. It was fast and perfect and just how she liked it.
As she came down from the high... there were only two things left on her mind.
One, that she would have to bathe herself again, and two, she didn't want artificial sperm in her.
She wanted Reid’s.
REID PANTED ON THE other side of the door.
He heard and smelled everything and it drove him into a rut.
He barely contained his canine form as he walked back and forth across the room, listening to her shaking breath and smelling the ascending arousal. He couldn't feel sexual desire while he was fully shifted and he thanked the nano gods for that, because just knowing what was happening was killing his control.