Chapter 5

CHAPTER

FIVE

JESSICA

The tinting on the windows is amazing.

By the time I finally wake, the suns are high in the deep yellow sky, but the room around me is still as dark as a gloomy rainy day back home.

I stretch, letting the fabric slide across my skin as I laugh at the idea of which of my colleagues would kill for access to the pad beside the door.

Trench could give or receive all of the head he wanted if he was willing to hand over those kinds of secrets.

My muscles are still languid from the orgasm, but the light of day—dimmed or not— reminds me that I have to live with the consequences of that bad decision now.

But the hallway is dark. He might not be awake yet. I might have time to start figuring out his kitchen.

I try not to play through all the options of how today could go as I get dressed, pulling on jeans and a chunky sweater.

It’s probably not even something he’s worried about. Men here are used to no-attachment sex. They have clubs for it. And I’ve had plenty of “fuck away the stress of this grant proposal” buddies in the past.

I shiver as I remember the way his tongue worked me. None of those fuck buddies had ever been quite so memorable, though.

I try to be quiet as I move down the hall, but Trench isn’t sleeping.

He stands in his kitchen, glaring down at the countertop. I can see a whole hell of a lot more of him than I did yesterday.

Pausing at the top of the stairs, I look him over and remember the forked tongue hidden behind his lips.

He’s wearing the same thing he was last night—almost nothing.

He’s all gorgeous green skin from the top of his head down to the low waist of his… I’m not sure what he’s wearing. The garment reminds me of harem pants, or a wrap I’d seen in Polynesia once.

If that’s what he’s going to wear day-to-day, I should have ample opportunity to study his musculature.

When he turns to look up at me, I know he knows I’ve been watching him.

It’s what I’m here to do. So, why do I feel embarrassed?

Because that face was buried in your cunt last night and you barely even said thank you.

“Good morning,” he says and I am very glad he can’t hear my thoughts.

“Good morning.” I make my way down the stairs and across the room, but—and maybe this makes me a little bit of a coward—I keep the island between us. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you. You?”

“I—” he looks at me for a moment and I see the moment he decides not to lie to me. “I did not. Through no fault of your own, your presence is… disturbing.”

“I see.”

But before I can ask him if he wants me to find somewhere else to sleep, he asks, “Do you have your knife?”

My kn— “I left it upstairs.”

He scowls, and I wonder what I could possibly need a knife for in his home.

A loud beep echoes from behind him and he turns.

God, the scars that cross his skin are beautiful and grotesque.

They cover his back and arms in lines that are thicker and thinner, in starbursts, with more peeking out from beneath the fabric.

“Coffee?” He asks and I look up, meeting his eyes in the reflection of the glass appliance in front of him. He knows exactly where my gaze traveled.

“Yes, please. Is coffee a Sian thing, too? Or do you import it from Earth?” I take the bag and remember immediately that it was among the things in my little care package.

“To my knowledge, most Sian don’t enjoy the taste. I only know one who does. But I have a theory he’s just a masochist.”

He pours, and I watch the dark liquid instead of the way his skin shifts over muscle with each movement.

“I can order a machine that will make it perfectly for you every time.” Trench says, offering me a bottle of syrup and carton of cream—Laurel definitely had her hand in the welcome basket.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” I tip the bottle of syrup and watch the dark liquid drizzle. “There’s something therapeutic in the ritual.”

He’s quiet as I finish making my cup and while I take my first real sip, he whisks the fixings away.

“I’m not here to be waited on hand and foot, by the way. You are going to have to let me do my part, eventually.”

“I will.”

That feels like a lie.

“How long have you been up?”

“A while.” Which only reminds me of his earlier comment, and I almost question if he’s been awake this whole time.

But when I go to look out the window, I get a clear look at all of him. There isn’t a dark stain where there had been hours ago, so I’m certain he’s changed, at the very least.

I look out at the bright blue ice and the far wall of the inner caldera. “It’s really beautiful up here.”

“Yes, it is.”

“You’d be fighting people off for this real estate if not for the monsters.”

“I imagine I prefer fighting off the cavrinskh.”

“Cavrinskh.” I repeat the word and it sounds so odd on my tongue. “They sound like actual nightmares.”

“I am used to sleepless nights,” he says. “They’re semi-nocturnal.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

I hadn’t, but, “Data calms me down, so after you left, I read through some facts and figures, and then I waited for you to get back.” He really had given me access to anything I wanted in his databases.

He nods, as if it’s the most natural thing on either of our worlds.

“Would you like breakfast?” he asks.

“Only if you let me make it.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He pulls a plate out of a slot in the cabinets. “I made yours when I made my own.”

“Thanks. But you have to let me make lunch or dinner.”

“You are a guest, Jess.” He sets the plate on his table and pulls out my chair. “They did not bring you here so that you could be my chef or housekeeper.”

I almost make a joke about playing “wife” after last night, but I silently concede his point and start in on my breakfast.

He spins a tablet to me and has me pick out a smaller knife. “Is that going to do anything against one of your monsters?”

“You shouldn’t be anywhere near one of them.”

“Then what’s it for?”

“If you need to stab someone.”

He blinks at me like it was a silly question and I blink back.

Finally, he pulls the tablet back and I watch him work for a moment.

Does he think I’ll need to stab him?

He spins the tablet around again. “Will this work?”

It’s a rug. Again, I’m left blinking.

“Yeah, that’ll be fine.”

“Do you like it?”

“Trench, I didn’t ask for the rug so I could redecorate your home. Do you like it?”

He looks down at it again. “I would like you to pick out something you like.”

I purse my lips instead of asking more questions and take the tablet, flipping through the various options. “How about this one?”

He looks at it for a moment and then nods. “Thank you.”

We lapse into silence for a moment before I ask. “How often do you have to go out there? To hunt them down, I mean.”

“Less than we did in the beginning, more than we did before members of the brotherhood started bonding.”

My fork stills in front of my face. “They’re coming after Laurel and the others?”

“And you now, too.”

I don’t like that. Chewing to buy myself time, I look out at the snow.

“I’m surprised your government didn’t force you to be monks.”

He laughs, a low and tired sound. “Curiosity often outweighs caution when it comes to them.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re a biologist, you know we’re different. I think you could guess why our government wants to see what happens when we breed with humans.”

“They think your mutations will be passed on to the next generation?”

“I don’t know what they think. No one’s ever come out and said it, but…” he shrugs as he trails off.

“That’s kind of gross.”

He nods and shrugs again at the same time. “I am also curious.”

“But you don’t have a bondmate.”

“No.”

“Do you want one?”

His lips purse and I immediately regret asking. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business.”

“It’s fine.” But he doesn’t look at me when he says, “I was matched to a woman a few years ago. She got here, was very enthusiastic until she saw these.” He waves his hands in front of his chest, motioning toward the scars. “And then she stumbled into the lab and… well, I decided that she was probably right. No woman deserved to be inextricably tied to a ghoul like me.”

There’s a pain that accompanies those words. He remembers everything.

I don’t want to know what she said to him.

“I hate her.”

He looks at me sharply. “She had every right to demand I take her back to the city.”

“Oh, I agree with that, but you’re not a ghoul. And if she was freaked out by those sexy scars, that’s her loss.”

His lips part and I wonder…

“Is that why you’re topless this morning? Did you think seeing you in full daylight would chase me away? Like you showed me your lab and specimens, thinking I would run.”

He looks down at his chest and the scars there. “If I did this morning, it was unconsciously done.”

When he looks up at me, and his gaze drops to my mouth, I realize I am sucking on an empty spoon.

Oops.

I clear my throat and take my dish to the same slot he used last night after dinner. “Just put them here?”

“Yes, the system will take care of the rest.”

“Fantastic.” I take a deep breath and glance at him. It would be easy to poke and prod at him right now, he’s certainly got enough skin on display for me to have new questions, but, “Should we spend a little time in the lab today?”

He nods and then looks down at my feet. “If you put on shoes, we can go look at the one I brought back last night.”

“Deal.”

I hurry up the stairs and swap my chunky sweater for a pullover that’s still warm, but doesn’t have sleeves that will droop into anything gooey.

Trench is fully dressed and waiting for me downstairs when I get there.

I almost ask him where he was hiding his clothes, but I can figure that out some other time.

I would have preferred to watch the muscles move in his back as I follow him to the lab, but I can’t ogle him constantly.

We’ve barely set foot inside the chilly space before he hands me a box of rubber gloves.

They’re my size. “Part of the welcome package?” I guess.

“I don’t think that we can say they thought of everything, but most of the major bullet points seem to have been covered.”

He pulls a pair of his own. They’re thicker, and I glance at the pointed tips of his fingers, remembering how they felt on my thighs.

I shake that thought away as he pulls the new creature out of one of the display-like refrigerators.

“So,” I flex my fingers, getting used to the cold. “What do you do with them?”

He arranges it on a slab before he answers.

“I catalog them and try to find any similarities or differences. I am trying to put together a complete picture of one, but they rarely die in one piece, and they decay so quickly…” He grimaces at the creature on the slab in front of us. “Honestly, if you’re okay with working at night, that would help. The head has already started to slope, I don’t think the skull will be intact for much longer.”

“The bodies break down that quickly, even under refrigeration? Why?”

“I don’t know.” He offers me a wry smile. “I’m not actually a scientist.”

“Has the data you’ve collected so far been useful at least?”

“Some anatomical defects make them easier to kill. And there are certain physical characteristics that give us an idea of the ones that will be harder to.”

He might have technically said yes to my question, but he’s not happy about it.

I move around the corpse, not wanting to touch it or even breathe on it, really.

Its canine teeth are massive, the trisected jaw is keratinous, almost a beak. I shiver, and I know it’s not because of the cold.

I lift the mangled remains of its head, studying the deformed shape.

“They eat you. Do you eat them?”

“They don’t usually eat us. Obviously, there have been exceptions, and I’m told that they ate the women and children they killed before, but recently, they don’t seem to like the taste of us.”

“Most Earth animals don’t hunt for sport. It’s a trait relegated to humans, I’m sad to say.”

“I was under the impression your kind hunted for survival.”

“Sometimes.” I grimace as I put the head down and the top flattens a little more.

I don’t tell him about the species driven to extinction for the enjoyment of people who thought it was some kind of accomplishment to boast about.

“Do you always bring them back to study?” I ask.

“No. Sometimes they’re too mangled, or there’s nothing about them that makes me think they’ll be worthwhile.”

“Why did you bring this one back?”

“I brought it back for you.”

Like a cat with a snake or a mouse, presenting it to their owner. I probably shouldn’t wonder if it’s a sign of affection.

“I know you’re only here for three months, but I am hoping for a miracle. I would really like to stop killing things.”

I look up at him, but he grimaces at the carcass, his gaze fixed there. His disgust might not be for the creature after all.

“Do you have access to anyone else’s findings?”

His lips twitch before he frowns. “There is no one else.”

“No one else is studying them?”

“My outpost is the only one with this kind of utility. And the others all have their own secondary tasks to perform.”

“No one in the city has taken an interest?”

“Up until a few months ago, the people in Ilidi thought we had it handled. Except those who wanted to drop a bomb on the caldera and be done with them, of course.”

I let him gloss over the bomb thing.

“And most of our biologists are preoccupied with the fauna in the southern hemisphere. It’s prettier. Warmer too.”

“Well, now I’m interested too.”

“You’d need three or four days,” he says.

“And I’m guessing a field trip like that won’t be approved.” If Drift had a hand in getting me here, he wants me working on these monsters. He’s not going to easily let me work on anything else.

“Maybe next time you come visit.” Trench suggests.

I doubt they’ll give me another chance, and the way he said it, he doesn’t think it’s likely either.

“Give me a day or two to read through your notes and I’ll see if I can attack it from a different angle.”

“You’re not here to only work on them. You should split your time as evenly as possible.”

“I think this takes priority. Besides, you have me, you might as well take advantage of me.”

He studies me for a long moment. “Be careful what kind of offers you make.”

TRENCH

I can still taste her on my tongue.

And now, just watching her work, my cock has started to thicken. It doesn’t help that she puts things in her mouth when she’s deep in thought.

I’d like to be that pen.

Thankfully she’s immersed in data and I can look my fill.

I should leave her alone—I should give myself some space.

But I’ve already determined that’s not going to happen.

Three Earth months sounds like a long time on paper. I know it will be here in a blink, and when I’m alone again, I want every memory of her I can have.

I breathe a laugh and shake my head. I sound like one of those fools who falls for Margot’s employees. One taste of her pussy and I’d do anything she asks.

Saints, if Arc finds out he’ll never let me hear the end of it.

A sharp trill pierces the air and Jessica flinches, glaring up at the ceiling. “What the hell is that?”

Her confusion quickly gives way to concern as I stand.

“Another monster?” she asks.

“Maybe.” It’s full daylight out still, but one might have crossed out of the inner caldera.

The countertop lights when I prompt it, and I pull the warning up.

Jess comes to stand beside me, and I take a moment’s breath when she stops with her arm touching mine.

She glares down at the map and gently touches the highlighted section. “Is this just your pie slice of the Zone?”

The jagged shape of the calderas are vaguely round and our territories are vaguely triangular. I would not have likened them to pie slices before, but…

“Yes. Unless one of the others has a night off and the lines shift. Or it’s on the cusp of Richter or Drift’s territories, chances are I wouldn’t get there fast enough to do anything anyway.”

I tap the screen where my problem flashes at me.

Thankfully, it’s mechanical, not monstrous. “One of the perimeter sensors is down.”

Which means cavrinskh could get through without any of us knowing.

“That’s what those are?” She points to the winding line of indicators. “Sensors to tell if a cavrinskh comes through?”

Our language is unsteady on her tongue, but I love hearing it… even if it’s a word I can’t enjoy.

“Yes.”

She follows me toward the stairs. “Why not put up an actual fence?”

“Snow and ice would collect on it and the cavrinskh would climb right over.”

“What about an electric fence?”

“The heat would keep the snow off, but the energy consumption and the voltage required to actually deter them would be astronomical. We’d have to build power stations to accommodate it.”

She hums, musing to herself while following me all the way into my bedroom. “So the sensors don’t require the same power consumption?” She asks as she sits cross-legged at the foot of my bed, seemingly unaware of where she is.

“They’re solar powered with battery back ups and turbine adaptors that can harvest wind during storms.”

“Fancy.” She takes off her glasses and cleans the lenses with the bottom of her sweater before putting them back on.

“But the wind is also the most likely reason it failed.” I pull my shirt off, and hesitate, waiting for her to flee. “It could have damaged the components, blown snow over it, or frozen one of the capacitors. Or maybe a solenoid jammed.”

I shrug. There are dozens of reasons it might have gone down.

“I’ll head out and replace it. Might take me a few minutes when I get there or a few hours. It just depends on what the damage is like.”

She nods, looking pensive as I pull the suit out.

She’s intelligent. She’s had plenty of time to figure out what’s about to happen, so I don’t bother to point out the obvious.

She doesn’t hurry out of the room when I pull my pants off, but her brows do rise.

And her lips quirk in a soft smile.

“Do Sians have underwear?” she asks, “or do you just not wear any?”

“We don’t generally wear anything, but if you would prefer, I can order some.”

“Nope. I don’t mind the view.”

My cock twitches, and I have to remind myself once again: she is not mine. It’s scientific curiosity.

Pulling on the suit feels awkward with her watching me, or maybe it’s the sensation of my body aching for her that is the reason.

If she was mine…

I shove the thoughts away and exhale the tension that has gripped me.

She’s not.

I am a specimen. Every glance, every sweep of her gaze. She is measuring and weighing me. I am data. And I can be content with that.

“I’ll be back as quickly as I can.” I leave the room, and again, she follows me. “Again, feel free to anything in the house.” But I pause at the door to the garage, “Just don’t fall into the lava pit.”

She smiles and I want to trace my fingers along her lips.

“I can safely say I won’t go near it.”

“Good.”

When the door shuts behind me, I take a deep breath of the cold air.

It will be colder out in the Zone.

I’m going to need it.

Boots on, helmet in hand, I grab a spare sensor and prime up my bike.

It’s going to take a half hour to get there on this thing, but walking would be far worse.

I kick the bike to life as the ramp lowers, letting me out into the Zone. I put my helmet on and cast one last glance toward the door.

I’ve never hesitated like this before.

I’ve never had a reason to want to stay.

With a deep breath, I head out.

The bike skims over the snow and I reach the perimeter marker in less than twenty minutes.

I shouldn’t have pushed the bike that hard, but my head is clearer now.

The problem is an ugly and jagged thing.

The rod is broken.

Snapped nearly in half, it looks like a spear, not a sensor.

The bulbous head of the thing is half buried in a mound of snow about thirty feet away. When I grab it, it emits a shriek of tiny servos dying and the indicator lights flash frantically before they go dark.

Even if it was still working, the break is too sharp, the ends of it too brittle.

The whole thing has to be replaced.

Back at the bike, I tuck the dead sensor into a pocket and pull out the heater I hate using.

Melting the ice is never easy. It backfills and refreezes and I would rather just use the shovel, but quicker means exhausting, and there is still the possibility of cavrinskh to worry about.

I drop the thing over the jagged end of the rod and the circular array of elements glow to life.

And I still have to shovel, anyway. Fuck .

Unstrapping the tool from my bike, I look back toward my outpost.

I can’t see it from here, but I can’t help wondering if she’s at the window, watching for me again.

It’s ridiculous.

The fact that I’ve calculated how long it will be before I get back to her is ridiculous.

The fact that that number leaves me uncomfortable, like there’s grit between the suit and my skin… it’s all ridiculous.

I am fascinated by her and I don’t think I’m going to get over it.

My brain is pumping out chemicals because she stayed, because she never recoiled from the sight of me. Because she whispered my name in her sleep this morning.

I clench my teeth and start digging.

There’s not enough snow on the planet to take my mind off her, but I hear a distraction heading my way after fifteen minutes have passed.

I see the shimmering heat mirage of someone else’s bike distorting the sky five minutes after that.

And when Drift kills his bike next to mine, I almost wish it had been my actual brother here to torment me.

“I’m still mad at you,” I say.

“I can live with that.” He scans the horizon, and I ignore the way his eerie eyes stop right where his line of sight would hit my outpost.

I bite my tongue, instead of asking if he can see her.

The remaining length of the rod is finally free of the worst of the snow, and I twist it out of the locking base that probably hasn’t seen daylight in a decade.

But there’s no sign of corrosion in the ice encased mechanism, so I let the heater loosen that up and throw the broken spike at Drift.

He catches it without turning to me, once again making me question just how far his peripheral vision extends.

“This is ugly.” He studies it, scowling. “But it’s a windbreak. There was a stress fracture.”

“That’s what I thought too. They’re getting old. Do we need to start doing maintenance checks?”

“I’ll put Arc on it. He likes doing laps, he can let us know if he sees anything one of us needs to check out.”

He hands it back to me. “Don’t fall on this on your way home.”

“I don’t plan on it.” The suits we wear would save me from actually being impaled, but it would still hurt.

“Any sign of one of our friends getting through before you made it here?” He asks, scanning the slope of the inner caldera.

“You’d have a better chance of knowing that than I would, but there weren’t any tracks that I saw. No other sensors triggered.” I stab the new one into the base and twist it to lock it in place. “If we’re right and it was the wind, they would have had to have gotten lucky to know where to get through.”

“I don’t think anything that happens with the cavrinskh is luck anymore.” He watches me shovel the snow back into the hole where it will refreeze and stabilize the new pole. “How are you enjoying your roommate?”

I’m glad my back is to him.

I don’t know exactly what he can see, but I have a feeling my face would give away more than I want it to.

“She is interesting.”

“And what does she think of the so-called skeletons in your closet?” Drift has been using more human idioms since he bonded to Kimba.

“The ones I have in the cold room are more than simple skeletons.”

“Hopefully she can give us a different perspective.”

“What you did was really fucked up. You don’t just dump a woman on someone’s doorstep.” I grimace, but I have to admit, “… but I do need her help.”

“She’ll be good for you.” He nods and heads back for his bike. “You’ve got three Earth months to convince her to stay.”

A cold slither runs across my skin that has nothing to do with the snow and ice. “If you gave her to me, hoping I was going to trap her here, I will never forgive you.”

Drift glares and comes back to me, hand clenching around the back of my neck when he stops. “I gave her to you because I knew she would be safe with you. Out of everyone in this Saints-forsaken caldera, I trust you the most, Trench. Don’t ever forget that. The fact that you’re the only one of us who can stomach bringing those dead things into your home to figure out what makes them tick, that is just…” he shakes his head as if looking for the word, “a bonus.”

Nothing about what we do is a bonus.

He looks toward my outpost again and then scowls. “Is she settling in well?”

I think about the way she sat at the foot of my bed like she belonged there. I remember the way she watched me in the kitchen so she’d know how things worked. And I hear the breathless moans as she came on my tongue. “How the hell would I know?”

“Fair.” He mounts his bike and kicks it to life. “If you need anything, let us know. Laurel will probably show up in the next few days, but Kimba and I are here for whatever comes up.”

I’ve never been glad to be rid of any of the brotherhood, but I dislike Drift on multiple levels right now.

Not the least because he was keeping me here.

The drive back to her—to my outpost —feels like it takes longer than it should. But when I close the garage behind me, it’s been less than two hours since I left.

I listen for her as I pull off my boots.

What did she do while I was gone? Where is she right now?

She’s quiet. All I hear when I locate her is breathing and the sound of clothing brushing against itself.

When I come into the living area, Jessica is spread out on the floor in front of the windows, moving through stretching flows that Richter described to me once.

Laurel does yoga too.

The sunlight spills onto her as her head goes down and one leg goes up.

I watch her for a moment, my traitorous mind supplying the possibilities of that pose.

And then, I knock the door jamb with my elbow and pretend I wasn’t just staring at her like a creep.

“You’re back!” She stands as if unfolding, arms stretching to the sides and her elbows letting out an ugly pop.

But she ignores it, so I do too.

I try not to enjoy the excitement in her words. “And I saw neither claw nor tail of a cavrinskh while I was gone.”

“Good.” She gets a glass of water. “I don’t like the idea of you getting chomped.”

“Chomped?”

“Eaten.” She takes a long drink.

“I don’t like that idea either.”

She smiles and puts on her glasses to look me over, as if checking to be sure I’m not lying about the uneventful task.

I take my coat off to better let her see me. “You’re supposed to be asking me about my physiology, yes?”

“I mean, the Agency definitely wants me to.”

The way her head is tipped to the side as she views me makes me think she does too.

“Ask any question you want. I am yours to study.”

Her lips part with a little surprised sound. “You’re mine?”

“For the duration of your visit, yes.” And possibly after. I can’t lie to myself about that either.

“So,” she touches my arm, squeezing my biceps as if trying to measure it by hand. “Women like to know what they’re getting into and I’m supposed to be giving an unbiased evaluation. The porn the Agency commissions feels a little unrealistic.”

“Does it still?”

She looks up at me and her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “No. You are exactly the kind of man those promotional materials promised.”

“We have an advantage over you. Places like Margot’s make it very clear that you’re real.”

“Are you a member?”

I shake my head. “Not anymore.”

She looks surprised, so I tell her why.

“I did my year to qualify for a bondmate and that went poorly.”

She grimaces.

“I have no intention of applying for another bondmate, so there’s no reason for me to go back.” If Jessica was on offer, I might not delete every Agency communique that comes my way.

“I would have thought getting laid was a good enough reason.”

I shrug, trying not to think about enjoying her company at Margot’s. “I’ve got too much work to do.”

“I vaguely remember Laurel saying something about the brothers going there on their nights off. What do you do instead?”

“I don’t have nights off.”

Her brows pinch. “Really?”

“There is another member of the brotherhood who needs them more than I do.” Hazard has never asked for the extra days, but the memory of how he looks at Hannah… how she looks at him. Someone deserves that kind of happiness even if I can’t have it.

Jessica nods and says, “So, bonded women and unbonded men, there’s no risk of double bonding?”

“I haven’t heard of it before.”

“And what about bonded men and unbonded women?”

“I don’t think that’s ever happened.”

She tips her head to the side and hums, thinking.

“The number of unbonded women on this planet is infinitesimal. She would have to be widowed, or have rejected her bondmate and gone back to the Agency for a new placement.”

Suzette’s face flashes in my mind for a moment and I grimace in spite of myself.

Jess licks her lips and glances away for a second before she meets my eyes and says, “There’s no way for you and I, though… right?”

My cock practically leaps toward her, but, “No. Bonding occurs through vaginal intercourse.”

She hums again, sounding almost disappointed and then, she looks down to where my cock has started to nudge at my suit.

“Can I see you?”

“Can you…” I blink at her. “Of course.”

I pull the suit open and she helps me undress.

Clenching my teeth, I convince myself that this is going to be fine. Right up until the point she goes to her knees in front of me. Her fingers trace my sensitive skin as she explores me.

“Is this okay?” she asks.

“Yes.”

She strokes, and I have to lock my knees so I don’t buckle to the floor.