I awakened alone on the sofa; Bandit had vanished. What time is it? With the windows shuttered, it was impossible to discern night from day. Should I roll over or get up? I squinted in the darkness and snagged my tablet from the coffee table to check the time. Midmorning! I never slept this late.
I flung off the covers and fumbled for a switch, flinching as bright light hit my eyeballs. I peered down the hall. Tack wasn’t up yet; Bandit sat outside his closed door.
I opened the tiny panel. Outside, sand whirled as turbulent as ever, the whiteout showing no signs of abating. I didn’t have to leave yet! I could cash in the rain check. Self-reflection and a good night’s sleep hadn’t changed my feelings—I was more committed than ever to indulging our mutual attraction.
Although thrilled to have more time with Tack, I eyed the spinning sand with some concern. When I’d arrived four years ago, storms would come and go, blowing over in a day or two. Lately, they dragged on for three, four, five days. We were going on the third day now. I wondered how much longer this one would last, but also, what did the lengthening storms mean in the grand scheme? Was the alien getting frustrated?
What if my little joke, “get the hell off my planet,” had, in fact, hit on the truth? What if the storms were the alien’s attempt to force the squatters to leave? Were the raging storms a temper tantrum? My degrees were in astrogeology, not alien psychology or extraterrestrial communication. Other scientists needed to be brought in on this project.
But not until I finalize my part. I closed the panel on the door.
Coffee.
Bathroom first.
I tiptoed down the hall. Bandit nudged at Tack’s door, trying to gain entry. As I was about to enter the bath, it hit me—where did the dog relieve himself? He hadn’t been let out of the cabin since I’d arrived. Even with a helmet, it wasn’t safe for him outside during a storm.
Bandit whined, pawed at the door, and then glanced at me. Let me in! It wasn’t too hard to figure out what he wanted.
Letting the dog into his master’s room couldn’t be any worse than flooding the cabin with sand. I eased the bedroom door open. Bandit shot inside like a bullet. Quietly I closed the door.
I’d only planned to use the toilet, but since I was already in the bath and Tack was still sleeping, I took a quick shower and brushed my teeth with the spare toothbrush he’d rustled up for me. My panties were still a tad damp, so I donned his shirt again.
Coffee time! I sped to the kitchen and fixed myself a cup. I’d just settled on the sofa with mug in hand when Tack appeared, tying the belt around a navy robe. His lower legs and a V of muscled chest were bare. Did he sleep in the nude? I wondered. He looked adorably sleepy-eyed and tousled, his hair sticking up every which way.
My mouth dried. “Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Good morning. No, you didn’t wake me. Bandit did.” He glanced at the dog at his side.
I screwed up my face. “Then I did wake you. I let him into your room. He wanted in. Sorry.”
“No, that’s okay. He usually sleeps in the bedroom anyway. He was probably trying to tell me you were awake. How did you sleep?”
“Good,” I said. “Would you like some coffee? I’ll fix you a cup,” I offered, wondering how long I should wait before jumping his bones.
“Let me dash into the bathroom first.”
He took a little longer than expected, but when he returned, his hair lay wet against his scalp, and he smelled of body wash. Like me, he hadn’t bothered getting dressed after showering. He still had on his robe. Positive sign?
I handed him a mug.
“Thank you.” He set it on the kitchen counter and pulled me into his arms for a deep, minty kiss. My body went liquid and hot, and I melted against him. One kiss turned to a half dozen.
“Now, that’s a good morning,” I said when we parted.
He smiled. I smiled. We each took a drink and made goo-goo eyes at each other over our mugs.
“Woof! Woof!” Bandit barked.
Tack made a wry face. “Feeding time.” He dished up a bowl and took it to the hall.
“Where does Bandit go to the bathroom?” I asked when he returned.
“Normally, outside. During storms, he uses a pet hygiene pad in the sunroom off the bedroom.”
No wonder Bandit had wanted in the room!
Auto-cleaning pee-and-poop pads were used on spaceships and space stations. A chemical attractant told the animal it was okay to pee there, and the pad disinfected and deodorized after use.
“I realized during the very first storm contingencies needed to be made. The sunroom was the only available unused space so…” He shrugged. “He’ll be using the pad from now on since I know the sand is an intelligent life-form.”
I nodded. Awareness of the nature of the sand changed everything. From the smallest insignificant detail like where a pet could pee to governmental strategy on interplanetary expansion. But this was no time to initiate a serious discussion. My libido was demanding I cash in that rain check.
“You don’t sit in your sunroom and watch the dunes?” I asked. The contrast of stark white curves and waves against a cobalt sky was beautiful, but mainly I was hinting for him to show me his sunroom, which was in his bedroom. Wanna come in and see my etchings? I did! I did!
He shook his head. “The best view is from upstairs, where I spend a lot of time anyway. It’s like being on top of the world. On a clear day, I can see for miles. The storm is still raging, I assume?”
I nodded. “I checked through the little window in the door.”
“There won’t be much to see then, but maybe you’d like that ten-cent tour I promised you?”
“Yesterday it cost fifteen cents. Is part of the tour closed?” Was the bedroom not on the tour? Had he changed his mind?
“Nah, I’m giving you the friends-and-family discount.” He winked. “Come with me.” He took his cup, so I grabbed mine and followed him up the spiral staircase.
Surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows, the loft reminded me of a lighthouse. There was even a skylight on the ceiling. Shutters covered the windows, but I could envision how magnificent the view would be.
“I can’t keep the shutters open for very long because of damage to the glass, but I can give you a quick peek.” With a few keystrokes to a computer terminal, the outside shutters retracted, and I reeled with sudden vertigo, falling back with a gasp as I was transported into the center of the storm. Swirling, whirling sand pelted the glass from all sides.
Tack grabbed my elbow to steady me, and, with a key punch, closed the shutters again. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. It just surprised me.” It had been like being buffeted in the RTC.
“You can’t tell, but the cabin is anchored to a knoll of solid rock, so it sits at a higher elevation. From the loft, I can see beyond the perimeter of my property. He pointed to the skylight, which he hadn’t uncovered. “On a clear night, the stars are amazing. Not quite as good as being in space, but a darn good second.”
I’d seen the stars from space on the flight to Sajave. I shifted my gaze to his work station. I counted a dozen computer screens and terminals, along with tons of other equipment. Several screens were black, either off or asleep, but data crawled across others. One zoomed in and out on a cityscape. I moved closer. “That looks like Stadt!”
“It is Stadt.”
“You keep watch on Stadt?” I squinted at the screen. Something about the vid footage of the city struck me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“On all five cities.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I like to keep tabs on what’s happening. C-Force taught me to stay alert, to question everything, prepare for the unexpected. Complacency gets you dead. Situations change in the blink of an eye. You can’t help but become a little paranoid, and, when you reenter civilian life and the threats are gone, the paranoia remains. I’m a little more paranoid than most.” He moved around the loft, adjusting the tilt of the computer screens. “You should know that about me before we proceed any further.”
Being threatened by one person had done a number on me; to face danger and death every day? It was a wonder anyone could function after that.
I wrapped my arms around his middle from behind. “I have personal space issues, commitment issues,” I confessed. “I’m also slightly agoraphobic. I’m a hot mess.”
He turned in my arms. “You’re beautiful.”
I touched the bruises on my temple and cheek. I’d seen my reflection. The bathroom mirror had not been kind. I scrunched up my nose. “I lost the fight with the RTC.”
“You’re brave, bold, and sexy as hell.”
“Okay, you win.”
He laughed. “You conceded too soon. I had many more compliments.” He kissed me, and our mouths meshed. My stomach clenched with anticipation. “Are you ready for the next part of the tour?” he asked.
“Is the bedroom on it?”
“Unless you’d like to dash out to the brewery again.”
“As tempting as that sounds, let’s move on.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that.”
We turned to descend the staircase, and I caught a glimpse of the streets of Stadt on the monitor. “It’s calm and clear!” That’s what had niggled me! I gawked at the screen. “Is the vid live?”
“Yes. It’s real time via satellite feed.”
“So it’s not blowing there.”
“It’s far enough away to be unaffected by the storm.”
“How far is it?”
“About four hundred miles to the northeast.”
“Can you show me Città?”
He keyed in a command and Città replaced Stadt. Città was also calm and clear. “Città is three hundred miles to the northwest.”
“I flew right into the storm, didn’t I?”
He nodded. “With my visual mods, I could see changes in the dunes, but you couldn’t have known or predicted a storm. They develop at random.”
“Or maybe they don’t.” I wet my lips. “What if…what if…the sand is after me?” What if it sought revenge against the evil scientist who’d experimented on it? What if the sand I’d tested on had communicated to the rest of the organism what I’d done? What if it had followed me from Città? “What if the storm is personal? What if the alien is hunting me?” I sounded like a lunatic. But had my RTC been swept up in the dust devil by chance, or had the storm deliberately grabbed it?
Tack gathered me into a protective hug. “No. It was simple bad luck. You happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Oh, I wanted to believe him. “How can you be sure?”
“For many reasons, but I’ll stick with two. First, if the alien somehow managed to single you out from the hundred thousand humans on Sajave, then it knew you were in Città and could have come after you at any time. Why wait until you got here? Second, the storm had hit before you arrived. It had been raging for several hours. As you said, you flew into it. It didn’t come for you.”
I relaxed against him. “That makes me feel better.” I remembered now how I’d fallen asleep in the cab and the RTC had gotten off course. If I’d been awake, I could have flown around the storm.
Tack’s arms tightened, and I lifted my face. I’m sure he intended his gentle kiss to be comforting, but it stoked my desire again. I thumped my fist against his chest. “So how about we finish the tour?”
His minimalist décor extended to the bedroom, which contained a king mattress sans headboard, two bare nightstands, and a doggie bed for Bandit. If not for the jumble of bedcovers, it would have looked like he didn’t occupy the space at all. A wall-to-wall wardrobe stretched along one side of the room. Opposite the closet was the shuttered sunroom, empty except for the pet hygiene pad. Tack’s bathroom was down the hall.
A snort of amusement sputtered out my nose.
“Something funny?” He arched his eyebrows.
“Bandit has an ensuite bath, but you don’t.”
“I never thought of it that way.” He chuckled.
His sexy, low rumbling laugh reminded me why I was taking the tour. I rose up on tiptoe, and he met me halfway and took command of the kiss. Anticipation swelled in my core. Against my belly, I could feel his cock hardening.
He kicked the bedroom door shut with his foot, and then planted another searing kiss to my lips. He scrunched up the hem of my long shirt. “Take this off.” He pulled the garment over my head.
I felt momentarily vulnerable to be naked in front of him for the first time, in front of any man in a long time. I’d lost the extra pounds and kept physically fit, and people said I looked good “for my age,” but they hadn’t seen me naked. You can slow the march of time, but you can’t stop it, and eventually everyone gets trampled. The gap between me and time had started to narrow.
But Tack’s eyes lit up with obvious appreciation, and it emboldened me to untie his robe and push it off his shoulders.
Yep, he was happy to see me. He sported a righteous hard-on in the same bronzy-silvery tone as the rest of his smooth, scar-free skin. I suspected his synthetic epidermis self-healed and regenerated. He’d undergone significant modification to become a cyborg, which had been no small sacrifice, but I couldn’t help but envy his perfection. Broad shoulders topped a muscular chest narrowing to washboard abs. He had no body hair other than on his head and the nest at the base of his cock.
We came together in a full-body hug, and the sensation of all that muscle and smooth skin was so much better than just viewing it. My nipples beaded and rubbed against his chest. His cock pressed against my abdomen. I moaned against his mouth as we kissed.
He slow-danced me to the bed. My body hummed with desire, and my head reeled in wonder. The attraction had been there almost from the start, but until this moment, I hadn’t appreciated how much I’d needed this, needed him.
He calmed old fears and doubts and ignited new dreams and possibilities. Desiring him had given me the courage to shake off the self-limiting fear, and, once freed, I desired him all the more. The men I worked with were good and decent, but none had affected me like Tack. None had inspired me to stop hiding, stop running. Was it because he was a cyborg, a real-life superhero? Maybe some of that influenced me, but mostly I just liked him.
I couldn’t predict what would happen once the storm blew over, if attraction would develop into a relationship, but if I never saw him again, I still would be forever grateful for the transformation I’d experienced because of him.
He guided me onto his oversized bed. I planted a hand on his chest, halting him when he would have kissed me. “Thank you,” I said.
Humor glinted in his eyes. “Most women wait until after sex to thank me, but you’re welcome.”
I snorted and thumped his chest with my fist. “I mean, thank you for being you.”
He slid his hand under my hair and stroked my cheekbone with his thumb. “That’s the only person I know how to be.”
“Good. That’s the person I want.”
Soft kisses turned hungry, and simmering passion flashed to a roiling boil. He kneaded and cupped my breasts, stroking the nipples to taut buds, then sucked. With a sure touch, he roamed his hands over my body, parting my thighs and seeking my clit. I arched at the intense sensation in my core.
We rode a seesaw of give-and-receive, taking turns pleasuring the other. After he brought me to a shuddering orgasm with his mouth, I meandered on a self-guided tour of his body. I walked my palms over his chest and his sensitive nipples, before skipping down to inspect those rippling abs then wandering to his erection. I closed my fingers around his substantial girth and pumped, enjoying the visuals of his face tightening with passion.
Finally, we joined together. I’d braced for initial discomfort as it had been a while since I’d been intimate, and he wasn’t a small man, but his fingers found my clit, and pure rapture took over. I wrapped my legs around his hips, my arms around his back, and gave myself up to the ecstasy of his thrusts.
Quivering muscles tightened around his cock. Contractions deep in my womb spiraled outward. Toes curling, my body tensed, and I arched as a second orgasm rolled through me.
Pleasure contorted his face with a fierce expression. Those fabulous muscles hardened even more as release claimed him. When his shudders ceased, he braced on his forearms and continued to hold me. He brushed the damp hair away from my forehead and pressed seemingly random butterfly kisses to my face, but I could tell he was kissing away my owies, the bruises and scrapes from the crash.
Good sex always evoked well-being afterward, but the safety and peace spreading through me seemed to go deeper than that. In his arms, I felt a sense of coming home, as if I belonged here. Then again, tranquility could have resulted from the endorphin rush of two intense orgasms. After existing in a state of emotional isolation for so long, maybe I wasn’t qualified to judge. Maybe more testing was required.
My lips quirked as I remembered his joke about being thanked after sex. In truth, I could not remember sex ever having been this good. My smart-ass self was considering thanking him for his service when he rolled us over and tucked me against his side. My head pillowed on his shoulder like it knew where to go. I let out a sigh of contentment and focused on his fabulous abs. The undulation of the muscle reminded me of the waves in the sand.
“Does sex feel any different since you became a cyborg?” I asked.
“Because of my synthetic skin? I suppose it did right after the transformation, but it occurred so long ago, I’ve adjusted to any change, and the tactile sensations are normal to me now.”
I propped up on an elbow. “Well, the sex was pretty spectacular for me.” My lips quirked. “Thank you.” Sometimes the smart-ass had to come out.
He laughed and tweaked my nose. “My fragile male ego had wondered.”
“I love your laugh. You have a wonderful voice,” I said.
“Now you are stroking my ego.”
I considered making a joke, except he looked a little embarrassed by the compliment, which I found adorable. I wondered how many women he had slept with to have become so skilled in bed. Of course, I knew better than to ask—and certainly not in this venue—and I shied away from the answer anyway. Listing my sexual partners didn’t take a lot of lines—it included the asshole and two guys before him. Battery-operated boyfriends didn’t count.
“Have you ever been married?” A fair question. I’d told him about my ex.
His expression sobered. “Yes. Sarah and I had been married for seven years when she died.”
“I’m so sorry.” What a way to spoil the mood. I sucked at pillow talk.
“It happened not too long before I came to Sajave. It’s why I came. I was pretty broken up, making me a liability to C-Force.” He lifted a shoulder. “So I took some time off.”
“I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s a natural question. There’s more to tell, but it’s not a happy story. I’ll share it with you when the time is right.” He smoothed the back of his fingers across my cheek.
I could envision his late wife wasting away from some horrific alien contagion. Cancer, once a scourge, had been eradicated as a human disease, but, upon venturing into the galaxy, we’d encountered dangerous alien microbes we had no immunity to and little medical defense against. “Of course. Tell me as much or as little as you want, when it’s comfortable for you.”