Ineedto fuck her.
She was on his tongue and in his nose.
Reid eyed the door and debated leaving, but to do so would mean he would have to shift. Or let Clara know that her android dog could open doors. Instead, he sprawled himself out on the bed, maintaining his form.
What had he been thinking? Coming into her bedroom and watching over her during the night. What was wrong with him? He hated his instincts, and he hated the pull he felt for the girl who had forced herself into his life. How could he deny her when everything about her was so appealing to him?
He had encountered hundreds of attractive women in his life, but that was all they were. A pretty face, a pretty body. None of them had the alluring violet eyes that ensnared him nor the smell of tart berries, fresh off the vine, ready to be enjoyed. None of them had possessed such open vulnerability and determined strength.
None of them had every attribute that he seemed to have been searching for, even those he did not know existed. He had never felt such magnetism.
Reid was always in control. Always. That was his mantra, but right now that control was slipping by the second.
He had let his beast get the better of him, and because of it, he was trapped in this room smelling her need barely a few yards away. The need he was ready, able and willing to fulfill.
There was no way Clara would ever forgive him if she ever found out that he was more than a mere Cyborg; that he was also the dog she had been spilling her secrets to, encroaching on her privacy and invading her space.
Sleeping in her bed.
He growled and jumped off. Focusing on his need to get away before he lost it, he shifted, naked as the day he was created and managed to walk away. His disgust with himself lingered as he stormed into his office, suited up and hid a gun in the lapels of his suit jacket.
That disgust stayed with him as his lips peeled back, baring his teeth and as he approached the locked garage at the back of the facility and entered his personal flyer.
That disgust stayed with him as he flew to Pecos, Texas with the cop’s phone in his hand, until he traced the source of its last call and ended up at the front of a dilapidated house.
Clara could have her orgasm, and he could have his peace.
Chapter Eight
***
Reid stepped out ofhis flyer as the angel of destruction, with absolute clarity of his purpose.
He straightened out his suit, cracked his neck and narrowed his eyes. No one could hide from him. He was built for this. The street he was on was all but deserted and the remaining structures had seen better days—better centuries, even.
Gravel and dead grass crunched beneath his feet as he walked up to the front door. Reused metal, modified wood, and cement were the building materials of yesteryear. Wooden resources were scarce and when the world was fighting a war, infrastructure took a beating.
