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Get up. Get out! I’d blundered into a dangerous, compromising situation.
But instead of jumping up from the table and putting distance between us, I continued holding her hand, unable to speak for fear I’d spew out the rest of the truth.
The humanity I’d lost had returned—because of her.
First, trickles over time. A spate of frustration or annoyance. A kindling of concern. A spark of amusement. A flicker of desire. I hadn’t needed to stalk her as assiduously as I had—or at all. I could have bugged her devices at the start and tracked her electronically. But those twinges of feeling ignited a desire for more. I’d become addicted to her; I’d craved that emotional hit.
Now, just when I required a clear head and a clean emotional slate the most, I’d been swept away in a torrent of conflicted feelings.
I ached. I hungered.
Obviously, the transformation to cyborg hadn’t erased my emotions, only locked them behind a wall.
Tempest had the key.
The key to my ruin.
She radiated mixed signals. Perhaps she wasn’t about to defect. Perhaps stress and burnout caused her erratic behavior. But if I took her word at face value, and I was wrong, I’d be in deep shit. In my line of work, trusting the wrong person could be fatal.
An old Russian proverb said trust but verify.
She had to provide me with proof of whose side she was on before I could save her. Time was running out. I’d already set her death in motion and pinged Jodane with a progress report before bringing up the food.
“You have a beautiful voice,” I said, apropos of nothing. “I heard you singing in the shower.”
A pale-pink blush crept up her neck and face. Her pulse fluttered in her wrist. “I didn’t realize you could hear.” She tugged her hand free, and I felt an immediate sense of loss.
“That embarrasses you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know why, other than it seems personal and private now, something I do when I’m alone. I used to be in a choir.” Her lips curved in a slight smile, as if she remembered happy times.
“Why did you stop?”
A shutter snapped over her happy expression. “Work took a higher priority.” She glanced at our half-eaten meals. “I’m done. Are you done?”
I nodded.
She collected the dirty plates and carried them to the kitchenette bar. She scraped the dinner remains into the refuse chute. I pushed away from the table and grabbed the used glasses and silverware. We loaded the dishes in the cleaner, working side by side. Despite a palpable, buzzing tension, the domesticity of our actions shot a sharp pang through me.
I’d always assumed one day I’d meet a woman, fall in love, and live happily, if busily, ever after. But in losing my emotions, I’d lost the ability to form deep connections.
Maybe I hadn’t met the right person.
Tempest has certainly gotten under my skin.
Once I’d hooked up with Jodane, I was relieved I’d never married. A wife would have been a source of vulnerability that could have been used against me. I would never wish to jeopardize the life of someone I loved.
Tempest tightened her robe belt. “I’m going to bed. It’s getting late.”
Late? Normally she was still at her desk at the White House this time of night. She was making excuses so she could escape. Then again, she’d had a harrowing flight through a sandstorm.
“Um, we should discuss sleeping arrangements.” Her gaze flicked to the bedroom and then the sofas.
“You take the bed,” I said. I wasn’t being chivalrous—although if the situation were different, I still would have given her the bed—but I needed to keep an eye on her, and I could do that better if she slept in the bedroom and I stayed outside rather than the reverse.
She leaned against the bar. “I could flip you for it.”
I chuckled. “What are you going to flip? Do you have an antique coin stashed somewhere?” Cash had become obsolete more than a hundred years ago.
“Well, you did give me a penny for my thoughts, remember?” she joked. “I do have a coin. But not with me. My parents gave me a 21st century dime set in a pendant—it’s in my jewelry box in my condo on Earth.”
“So, the coin won’t help you here, then.” I inched closer. My heart hammered. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. “Tell you what...” I sidled closer. The silk of her robe dusted my toes. She had to tilt her head to meet my gaze. A pulse throbbed in her throat.
Don’t do it. Don’t do it. You’ll regret it.
“Tell you what,” I repeated. “I’ll kiss you for it.”
She wet her lips. “How’s that?”
“I’ll let you have the bed for a kiss.”
The flash of desire in her eyes before she banked it shot straight to my groin. “You already said I could have the bed.” She folded her arms, the action enhancing the cleavage revealed by the gap in her robe. I could see the edges of a lacy scarlet bra. Red lace. My new fetish.
“I lied,” I said.
“That’s not very nice!”
“I never claimed to be nice.” I snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close.
She planted her palms against my chest and pushed weakly. “This is a bad idea.”
“It’s the only one we’ve got right now, seeing how you left your coin on Earth.”
She snorted. “You’re crazy.” One wayward finger stroked, searing my skin through my shirt.
“Can’t deny that.” I dipped my head.
“Bane...” she protested. That wayward finger stopped stroking.
“Benjamin,” I coaxed. I needed to hear her speak my name.
“Bane.”
I pressed a light kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Benjamin...” I whispered.
She gave a little moan. “You don’t play fair...Ben.”
With a growl, I claimed her lips, enticing them to part with a caress of my tongue, and then deepened the intimacy. Her arm slid around my neck, and she pressed her mouth hard against mine, her tongue seeking mine. Overpowering feeling rushed through me, a Tempest of desire and longing. Never had I reacted so strongly to a woman, not even before the transformation. This was no mere kiss. This was more than lust.
I slid a hand over her spine to her ass and then bunched up the fabric of her robe until I could slip my hand underneath to palm her lace-covered butt cheek, urging her closer, harder against my erection. I continued to play and tease, brushing my lips over her mouth then kissing deep and hard and exploring the inner contours, savoring her taste and feel.
Her nipple tightened to a hard bead against my palm as I cupped her breast through her silky robe.
I nibbled on her lower lip, slightly fuller than the upper one then kissed her again, stroking her tongue. We couldn’t sleep together. The last thing I need is a further complication.
But god, she made me want. She created the craving. Only she could satisfy it. If I pushed her away, all that would remain would be the longing.
I broke off the kiss and rested my forehead against hers. Our breaths mingled; hers was scotch-tinged and seductive. My heart hammered. My pulse thundered. Liquid fire ran through my veins. Every neuron fired in a starburst of emotion. It was like a 4th of July fireworks show inside my body.
“You were right,” I said. “I am crazy, and this is a bad idea.” I cobbled together the remnants of my conscience and the dregs of my willpower. “Tell me to go away. Slap my face if you have to.”
She smiled then. “I tried that once—and you kissed me. Remember?”
How could I forget the beginning of the end? That moment had flowed into this moment. Perhaps we’d met our destiny, and we were meant to end up this way. For nearly two years, we’d circled each other like two pugilists fighting a lost cause—our attraction to each other.
“Tell me to go.” I swallowed.
“I don’t want you to go, Benjamin.”
How could I resist that? I kissed her, long and hard, with naked hunger and yearning. Without breaking contact, I tugged the belt of her robe and pushed the kimono off her shoulders. In only a lacy bra and panties, she was smooth skin and soft curves. I pressed my lips to her throat. She tilted her head, and my lips followed the slope to her shoulder, her softness and lemony scent stoking the flames of desire.
On a mission now, I laid waste to her sexy underwear, undoing her bra and removing her panties. Then I set about claiming the territory I’d only been able to fantasize about. Reality proved far better than anything I’d envisioned.
“What about you?” She tugged at my pullover.
I grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” The only thing better than seeing her nude body would be her nakedness moving against mine.
Sultry eyes teased. “You’re good at taking care of things, aren’t you?”
That’s my job. I stifled the quip because on its heels flowed all the unpleasant aspects. Nothing could be allowed to intrude on this evening. Tonight we would be Benjamin and Tempest. I’d worry about tomorrow...tomorrow.
Kissing and caressing, we fumbled into the other room. I yanked the top covers off the bed. She watched as I pulled my shirt over my head and dispensed with my pants and underwear. Boldly, seductively, she checked me out, her gaze palpably roaming over my body. My rock-hard cock tightened more.
We came together skin to skin, her softness against my tautness sending waves of heat coursing through me. In a controlled fall, we tumbled onto the mattress. Mouths locked, tongues sliding, we kissed long and deep. Pleasure and lust swelled with fierce intensity, but I was more shaken by the other emotions.
Tempest had become the ache in my heart. The repeating loop in my mind. The bur under my skin.
Trust me. Please trust me.
I lifted my head and sought her gaze. “I have to tell you something.” I started to shake.
“What it is?”
“You make me feel.” Simple words wrapped around a paradox of irony. I worked as a hired killer for a corrupt politician, and this made me nervous? But I needed her to know tonight what she meant to me. “My emotions started to return after I met you. You did that for me.”
Her eyes widened with surprise, but I could see my admission had pleased her.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have told her. Feelings were an immaterial, inconvenient complication. I could set plans in motion, but the outcomes were sometimes out of my control. A clear head and a stone-cold heart would keep the operation clean and simple. But maybe that was why it seemed vitally important that she know I did care.
An affectionate, amused smile played on her lips. “Considering our...situation”—she caressed the back of my leg with her foot—“that’s good, isn’t it?”
Considering our...situation...feelings were messy, terrifying. But making love to her would not have happened if not for feelings. I swallowed. “Yes,” I said.
I kissed her then, partly out of desire and partly to bring the conversation to an end. But I needn’t have feared she’d pursue it. With hands and mouth, she dedicated herself to more lustful pursuits.
We explored and pleasured with hedonistic, teasing indulgence, bringing each other to the brink of ecstasy then retreating before repeating. A playful, giving lover, she inspired me to be the same. When we finally joined, it was like all the fractured, disassembled aspects of my life had unified.
“Home,” she murmured, burying her face against my neck as her hips rocked in sync with my thrusts. “Home.”
“Home,” I growled and kissed her, and then passion swept us into a vortex of shuddering ecstasy.
Panting, we collapsed in each other’s arms. Not wanting to crush her, I lifted myself off and sank beside her. Sensation continued to sizzle through me. My head reeled, but I shifted to my side, the better to look at her. If all I had was tonight, I didn’t want to miss a second of it.
Messy damp tendrils clung to her temples. Rosy lips, swollen from a marathon of kissing, curved with satisfaction. Her skin glowed with a hint of pink. I’d once thought of her as plain? Fuck. When I’d transformed to cyborg, the wrong parts had been enhanced. I should have had my eyes worked on.
“You’re staring at me,” she said.
“Because you’re so pretty.”
“You have strange tastes if sweaty is pretty to you.”
I laughed. “I won’t argue. Some of my tastes might be strange, but you are pretty, and I’m the one who got you sweaty, so there’s a certain amount of satisfaction in that.”
“You’re such a man,” she said. “But, thank you.” She rolled onto her side and returned the scrutiny while a half smile played on her lips. Her boldness, her relaxation did funny things to my insides. I liked this version of Tempest. So many times when she’d looked at me, there’d been apprehension, even stark fear in her eyes. And I’d put it there. Deliberately.
She jabbed my chest with her finger. “You said if I kissed you, you’d let me have the bed.”
“Did I say that? I meant I’d have you in bed.”
She grabbed her pillow and hit me with it.
I laughed and pulled her close for a kiss. “You know what happens when you hit me.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck. “That was the whole point.”
