“You and I.” He frowned at her as though she was being difficult to decipher.
“No,wecannot go anywhere.” She wagged a finger in his face, then pointed at the glowing blue designation at the breast of his uniform. “You literally say ‘pleasure unit’ in big, neon letters. I can’t take you to the grocery store!”
“Why not?”
“Because people will think I go grocery shopping with my sex doll.”
His expression grew considering. “That is accurate.”
She huffed, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes. “You’re driving me insane.”
A silence.
“You are not insane.”
Her arms went slack, and she looked at him between the gaps in her fingers. “You’re saying that after seeing the thing with the sink?”
“Yes.” He gently gripped her wrists, drawing her hands away from her face. “You are sane, Ophelia.”
He stepped into her, still holding her wrists, backing her against the counter in the narrow galley kitchen.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was embarrassingly uneven.
“Your home is clean,” he said, glancing around the apartment. “You do not appear to be concerned about attending a work shift. You do not wish to procure groceries. It seems you have free time.”
She stared blankly at him, horror dawning as his voice turned silky and he pressed his hips against hers.
“You’re tense, Ophelia.”
God, the way he kept saying her name…
One of his hands skimmed up her arm to cradle her neck from behind, massaging the knotted muscles there with strong fingers. She choked back a moan, mortified.
“I can help you with that,” he said, sultrier than should have been possible for a machine.
She should pull away. Tell him to stop. He couldn’t touch her without her consent. All she had to do was?—
His other hand released her wrist, and his fingertips dipped into the waistband of her pajamas. Her breath caught as he idly ran his hand back and forth, not delving any deeper, teasing the very hem of her panties. He brushed over a sensitive spot just inside her hip bone, and she mewled, hips twitching, inadvertently grinding against him.
She felt him growing hard at the friction, his substantial length stiffening against her. His fingers dipped a little deeper, sifting through her pubic hair, and she forgot how to breathe. Her core clenched hard, desperate for him to slip one of those fingers where she ached the most.
Just as the tip of his middle finger was about to dip between her labia, she grabbed his wrist hard.
“Groceries,” she gasped, dragging his hand out of her pants. “We should—we should go now. The rain.”
The robot stared down at her with a hungry gaze she knew had to be some kind of artifice. Machines didn’t get horny.
Then, suddenly, he grinned. It transformed his face, the sexual energy dissipating as his cheeks dimpled. “Very well.”
CHAPTER 8
Thirty-One traileda few steps behind Ophelia, per her request. It seemed an illogical choice to him. With his significantly larger frame, he was sure she would spend less time dodging distracted walkers on the sidewalk if he was permitted to lead. He came programmed with his own GPS system. All she needed to do was indicate which store she’d like him to take her to.
When someone fixated on the holographic video playing above their phone slammed into her shoulder—without apology—he set a hand on the small of her back and fell into step beside her. The crowd parted, eyes traveling the length of his tall frame as they ducked out of his way.
She looked up at him, visibly flustered. “You don’t have to?—”
“Permit me this.”
