“Me neither.” Clara peeled her eyes from him, the tension between them growing too heavy for her to handle. She settled back instead. “I’m ready.”
He let go of her hand. “Are you now?” Reid was taunting, teasing her. “You’re going to have to take off your pants.”
She closed her eyes and sighed, again. Then she opened them and looked directly at her doctor’s dick before shuffling up and pulling down her jeans, her shoes, and leaving them in a pile at her feet. “Can I keep my underwear on?”
“Hmm.” Reid blatantly checked her out.
“I hate you.”Why are you a rollercoaster in a man-suit?But the way his eyes followed every curve and groove of her body, as if memorizing it, dispersed some of the chill in the air.
Knowing they could be naked and thrashing on her bed right now didn’t help at all. Clara didn’t wait for him to answer before positioning herself back in the chair.
The machine with the sperm stopped vibrating. He went over to it and took the tubular contraption out before returning to her side.
“You don’t hate me,” he said while rolling the tube between his fingers, making her eyes follow its movement. “This sperm was taken from a Cyborg before he awakened, stolen and labeled anonymously, in a way that can’t be traced back to him without being in direct contact.” Reid handed it to her. The container was cold to the touch.
“We don’t have rights until our central nervous system, our organics, are paired with our nanocells and our pre-created internal technology. Once that first connection is made, we have rights, but until then... This one...” he tapped the side of the tube with a finger as she stared at it. “Has a singular cellular strain of nanocells, ones with reflective properties, almost like a mirroring effect.
“Although your son will be human, he’ll be able to change the transparency of his body in minor ways. He’ll be able to change the sound of his voice to mimic another perfectly—if trained—his eye color, hair color, and length, he’ll even be able to change the way he smells. Depending on how strong he is and how much of you is in him versus the nanocells, he may be able to change more.”
Clara’s stomach sank and Reid snatched the tube out of her fingers. Suddenly this felt wrong. Everything was wrong.
And he was smiling at her like a bastard.
“Let’s get you pregnant,” he said before she could respond. The slat she sat on lengthened at her feet and pulled them apart, lifting them in the air. A band snaked out to clasp her feet. The back of her chair lowered further and she had to fight to remain sitting up.
“Wait!”
Reid ignored her and swiped a series of numbers at the control panel of her interchangeable pod. The machine took the tube from him and it disappeared into the confines of the chair.
Clara slipped her feet from the confines and scurried from the moving tech around her. “This isn’t right!”
Suddenly there were arms around her. Warm hands gripped her skin and pressed her back into the seat. A hot breath brushed over her temple and she was trapped back into the chair with Reid leaning over her.
The smell of metal and iron blood, sanitizer, and antiseptics filled her nose, along with the wave of heat that flowed over her skin, banishing the chill. His heat. Her stomach pulled and tugged. So much warmth pooled between her legs. Her fingers pulled at his shirt and met the unrelenting wall of his flesh beneath.
The room remained frigid and he grew hotter, his dark eyes searching hers, his heavy breaths sucking her in, and his lips frustratingly too far away from her skin. One hand curled around her neck while the other was out of her sight.
Neither one of them moved, locked in position, staring at each other. She read him and he did the same to her. Clara didn’t know how much she could handle today.
“Is this right?” he rasped out at last, goading her.
She shook her head. “No.”
Reid leaned back, his smirk back in place, and pulled at the nape of his shirt. With one hand still curled around her neck, he unbuttoned it slowly. His fingers kneaded the tension from her neck while the other revealed the muscled chest previously hidden. When he was midway, he stopped and stared at her.
She reached over and tugged the bottom of it out of his pants.
And when his chest was revealed in its fabricated and inhumanly perfect glory, she pulled at the sleeves until his shirt was gone.
“Lie back.” His voice was hard, pulling her eyes from his abs. “And slip your feet back into the harnesses.”
She lay back and did just that, closing her eyes as he moved between her spread legs—legs that spread wider as the machine shifted to allow him to press closer. Clara bunched her hands within the cloth of her shirt, over her scarred stomach, nervous.
His finger slid over her panties with enough pressure to jerk her hips into the air. The next moment, his arm clamped her waist to the seat, her legs went wider, and his singular torment continued. She wrenched her eyes shut, half-mortified but aroused beyond belief.
If I can pretend this is a fantasy...But Reid rubbed the pad of his thumb up and down her again, applying enough pressure that the soft material creased, and she forgot how to breathe without making her body squirm.
“Relax.” His voice filled her ears and Clara swore she could feel his warm breath over her clit through her panties. She was sure of it as he began to pant. The heat of it curled her toes. Her eyes shot open. The medical machinery that littered the room outside her bubble hummed with life. The lights they gave off, red, blue, and green, were in stark contrast to the clinical white of the room and the spotlight above her.
