“The metal fabric needs to touch skin, so you need to take all your garments off,” he says, focusing my attention back at hand.
You’ve got to be kidding me. Yet another reason they probably have no more women on Planet Jackass. That shit has got to be uncomfortable.
I open the flap on the bag and pull out an armful of tin. “How is this going to fit me?”
“Just put it on,” he snaps, grimacing in my direction. “It molds to your skin. And do it slowly, it might pinch a little.”
“Pinch a little?” I ask, waving a metal leg in the air. “Didn’t you say this might not be compatible with—”
“With your dead, remember? Do you ever stop talking?” he interrupts.
“No,” I snap back.
“Are you afraid?”
Fuck yes. “No!” I growl.
“Do you want to help you sister or not?”
Holding the waist up, I step slowly into the legs. As soon as my skin touches against the inside, the armor begins to vibrate with a low hum. It tingles across my skin, spreading goose bumps over every inch. It kind of tickles, but I bite my lip to stifle my giggles.
That’s when it starts to pinch. And burn.
“Rune. It burns.” The pants are on and immediately they feel like a layer of my own skin. And he’s an idiot if he thinks with bottoms this tight I’d pass for a boy. Every curve of my body is going to show. It feels like silver spandex.
He doesn’t face me. He’s focusing on his metal boots and clicking things into place. “Of course. It’s getting through your pores.”
“This is going into my skin?”
“You can’t be this stupid,” he bites.
“Well, you must be dumb as shit if you think I’m going to pass for a guy with the way it looks on me!”
His head snaps up and a split second of anger flashes across his face, but then his expression changes and he swallows hard.
He’s not even looking at the metal pants. He’s looking straight at my chest.
I haven’t put that part on yet.
In my defense, this metal stuff wasseeping into my poresand burning like hell. I wasn’t thinking about being topless, I was thinking about being burned alive.
His chest is expanding in quick, heaving pants.
I want to say something snarky andasshole-ish,but words escape me. Golden sunlight streaks through the open window. His armor gleams radiantly, making him look like some godly warrior. I suppress a shudder that bites at the small of my back.
The hairs on my arm tingle. I’m sure it’s the cool metal suit on my skin that’s making me tremble, but…the way he’s looking at me.
I put the rest of the armor on and it instantly vacuum packs to my body and burns like it’s tattooing itself to my flesh.
“It needs to touch your…skin…” his voice is soft, millions of miles away.
“It is. It’s on. Look at it,” I say.
“It’s hard not to,” he whispers.
Thoughtlessly, I slap out my hand and smack his arm, clanking metal against metal. “Shut up. Stop looking at me.”
He points to the mask and nudges his chin. “Put that on too,” he whispers hoarsely.
