“Y’know…” He could almost hear her mulling over what she was going to say. “If you promise not to try anything…”
Royce scoffed into the bedding, frustrated with his own helplessness as well as her ill-conceived worry. “What the hell would I try?”
Shani’s hand slid up his thigh and she gave him a small squeeze—this one with a hint of fingernails. “Well…” A deep breath. “Back when I was first in operation, I used to run a program to do this for a guy.”
Pain seared at the spot between his legs. He held back his sob, wanting to consider what she was offering before refusing on principle.
“I mean, maybe you’d rather it be a man. But I’m sure your operating system is set up to make do with either.” She lifted her hand from his leg, but he could feel her fingers hovering.
Royce pressed his eyes closed and shook his head. Somehow this was all getting too personal. His naked skin tingled against the sheets where he could still feel. Her voice was warm and soothing and female.
“They tried. I’m supposed to like guys too.” A surge of current shot through him when her hand trailed up his thigh to where exquisitely sensitive flesh met parts that were numb. “But I always pretended they were women when the client was male.”
Shani pulled her hand away. She must have realized her touch was making it worse.
But damn her to hell, Royce wished she’d stroke him again. “Well, if you can still run it…” He didn’t, couldn’t look at her. He swore he’d imagine someone else screwing him. All he needed was the right stimulation in the right spot and the pain would go away. It was a mechanical thing. No different than what he did every other night of his un-life.
She got up off the bed and he heard her clanking stuff in his bag. Of course, he had a harness. If she’d been in the same business as him she probably knew that.
“Did I tell you to stop fingering yourself?”
Caught off guard by her commanding tone, Royce craned his head around. Shani was standing with her hands on her hips and her chest thrown out, holding his harness in her hand. Her eyes were fierce, determined. She’d already fastened in a cock—a larger one than he’d chosen.
He chuckled. “You do seem to know what you’re doing.”
Shani’s voluptuous lips curled into a slow, mean grin that would have been a lot scarier if Royce hadn’t been programmed to make exactly the same expression on certain occasions. “Face down, ass up, boy!”
Suddenly, the ache in his crotch didn’t seem so terrifying. Royce imagined the blue balls, the odd sense of humiliation, even the zaps of current were all part of the game as he flipped over, assumed the position and joyfully responded, “Yes ma’am!”
Chapter Four
This isn’t sex
, Shani reminded herself. She shoved off her pants, noting where they were in case she needed to grab the stunner in a hurry. Then she tugged her shirt over her head and, wearing only her underwear and sports bra, stepped into the harness. The cock at her front bounced when she shifted her weight.
Fine—
she admitted in her mind
—maybe it’s sex for him. Me, I’m just doing my job.
His fingers reached below his body to stroke at the base of his testes. Shani figured that was where the nerve block ended. “Arms over your head!” She could handle the not-sex better if he didn’t try to touch her.
He did as directed. Royce even added a little ass-wiggle, which forced a smile to her lips. No doubt about it, Royce Harden knew he looked as good with his perfect little behind in the air as most men looked in a tuxedo.
She’d never been turned-on while pegging any of her clients, only less miserable than while doing other acts. However, Shani was starting to see the appeal. Royce was a beauty to behold, and so trusting she almost felt guilty for topping him. Almost.
“Hurry, please?” he asked. His quivering words aimed at a breathless tease but landed on an outright beg.
Shani swiveled to get used to the weight of the cock at her front and climbed through the dinette.
“Be gentle with me?” He looked at her over his shoulder, that cocky grin from the club dancing across his lips. Instead of annoying her or making her nervous, his expression struck her as charming.
Shani climbed onto the bed. An uncomfortable twist of pity took up residence in her gut. “You ready?” She moved behind him and rubbed the rubber dick along the furrow of his ass. He was smooth there, she noticed—had probably been given electrolysis by his makers.
“Okay, honey,” she whispered, allowing a hint of kindness. Shani pretended the way his body shook was part of the act, let herself believe that he gasped because he’d been programmed to respond that way. Still, when his head dropped between his forearms and he shivered, she placed a hand on his damp shoulder and squeezed. “You okay?”
He nodded, his breathing slowed. The swagger, the confidence was gone—dissolved like light shone into the darkness. Shani pumped in gently, fighting the irresistible urge to press her lips to his shoulder, to stroke a hand down his side, to do something to connect. But he whimpered as he eased back to meet her, and Shani knew that if she showed too much sweetness, if she lay bare the reality of the situation, Royce might crumble.
“That okay, baby?” She picked up her pace, watching the lovely tensing of his muscles every time she pulsed. His skin smelled nice, she realized. Shani had thought it was his aftershave earlier. But now she realized he had a nice aroma—like leather and iron, and something a little horsey.
“Yeah.” He panted, his hips arching and twisting, trying to get her to hit the right spot.
Shani complied, lifting up a bit and angling down. She picked up her pace, added a little snap of her hips at the end.
“Oh fuck, you are so good at that!” Royce didn’t squirm now, just widened his knees and took her thrusts. There was something oddly masculine about it—his muscled body holding still while she serviced him. A bead of sweat formed on her temple and she shifted position to grip his naked hips.
Damn
if he didn’t feel amazing. Every millimeter of his body was covered in hard muscle that twitched under her fingers. “You gonna come for me, big boy?” She didn’t know why the word “big” attached itself to the start of that phrase, but couldn’t think on it now.
“I think so…” Royce bucked backward, fighting for dominance even though she was obviously the one in charge. He threw his head back, rasping encouragement that made her blush. If the boy had a stitch of shame, he wasn’t showing it. Instead, he took his pleasure spread open underneath her. And Shani felt the weirdest twinge of desire to someday have a turn.
“Goddamnmutherfucking…”
Royce stopped moving, and Shani knew enough to hold still. “Oh fuck!” He grabbed for the towel a moment too late. “Pull out slowly,” he ordered her.
Shani, her mind buzzing as if she was the one who’d come, retreated in time with his groans. Each time she did so, he let loose a string of expletives. Somehow, Shani didn’t think he’d been programmed to curse when he came. The thought made her smile.
“Fuck!” Royce flipped over onto his back, dragging the towel in his hand between his legs. “Oh my God, thank you.” Genuine relief shone in his voice. He smiled so wide he was almost laughing. “Wow. That really helped. I’ll have to tell the others.”
Allowing him to enjoy his moment in peace, Shani scooted off the bed, unbuckled her belt and started to clean up. Though a part of her wanted to roll around with him and grin.
“Hey, honey?” Royce propped himself on his elbows, naked as a jaybird and sprawled across the mattress. He lifted an eyebrow and drawled at her, “You want a turn?”
Her pretty lips parted as she gasped. She recovered fast though, coughing into her hand and pulling on a layer of shapeless clothes. “You wish, pretty boy.” Her smile tried at mean, but came off boastful. Royce figured she deserved to look proud. Manning a rubber dick was no easy feat. He’d learned as much on assignments that called for double penetration, or impersonating some weird alien species.
“I do, in fact.” He stretched out on the bed, not bothering to hide his nudity. Some lifers, he’d heard, felt awkward naked if they weren’t hard, but Royce didn’t have that problem. He arched his arms behind his head. “And if you don’t mind my saying so, you seem like you could use a good, hard nut.”
Shani grabbed some sweats out of a drawer and threw them at his head, but missed. “Put some clothes on!”
He didn’t rush to obey, instead studied her more closely. With Shani’s skin tone, it was hard to make out a blush. But her gaze darted to every corner of the van, not meeting his eyes. “Whatever. If you wanna prance around in your birthday suit, be my guest.” She soaped and rinsed the toys in the sink, then arranged them inside his bag as if she were filing someone’s taxes. “You know, Frank will be able to fix you. As soon as I get you back, I’m sure that whatever it is they’re doing…”
The pity in her voice felt like a kick in the balls. Royce fumbled to pull on the sweatpants. “Listen…” Normally he would have left his shirt off for any kind of negotiation with a straight woman—that was just common sense. But in this case Royce stretched the t-shirt between his elbows and dragged it over his head. “I get that you think you’re doing me a favor here.” He paused on the words, realizing that it was true. She did, honestly, seem to mean him well. “But you need to understand, I’m not unhappy with my job.”
She made a snorting, scoffing noise, but Royce plowed on. “No really. Most lifer men would kill to do what I do.” A hint of pride snuck into his chest when he thought of all his upgrades. “They’d kill to be able to do what I can do.”
Shani rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen steins do things that would make you crap diamonds.” She scooted through the dinette to sit on the bed. When she met his gaze, her expression was more kind than sexy. “And I’m sure you’re everything your makers built you to be.”
Royce wondered why her compliment seemed backhanded.
“But boy…” She lifted her hand from the bed. Royce thought she might touch him—lay her slender brown fingers on his cheek, or pat his arm at least. Instead, she lowered her fist back to the bedspread. “You are more than that.”
He snickered, trying to throw off some of those sickly feelings invading his thoughts. Fear, self-doubt—those were things he only remembered from his very first days. He never planned to revisit that state again. “What they built was pretty damn awesome.” Royce rolled onto his back, breaking their connection.
“Yeah…” Shani did pat his arm then, and squeezed it right over his biceps. Royce smiled to think she’d been appreciating his muscles. Then he realized how fucking superficial that made him sound.
Whatever “but” she’d been planning, Shani left unsaid. “Hey, can you sleep? ’Cuz I’d like to.” She grabbed a couple of thin blankets from a shelf overhead.
“Yeah.” Royce tucked a hand between his legs. The numbness still felt odd—the sensation thick like Novocain. But the darting nerve pain was gone for the time being. “For a while, at least.”
Shani reached up and flicked off the light. Once it was dark, and they both lay cocooned in their own wrap, she spoke. “If… I mean, when you’re in pain like that again…” She let out a breath that ruffled his hair. In the dark, he saw the outline of her wild hair and her curvy body. “Well, it’s not like I minded. You can ask me…if you like.”
He didn’t answer, fearing relief might shake his voice if he said
thank you
.
Chapter Five
Shani perched in a plastic chair at the tiny breakfast spot nestled alongside the campground. Her fingers drumming on the tabletop, she scanned the menu for something that wasn’t processed garbage. Her body hummed with frustrated lust from Royce’s morning pegging. Her mind buzzed with plain old frustration.
Steins could substitute normal food for organ meats for a time—but it helped if said food contained actual…food. “This is all shit.” She closed the menu, deciding on an order of sausage. With any luck, it might have bits of bone in it.
Right behind her, their restaurant owner huffed. Then the woman slammed waters down on their table, spilling half, and stalked away.
Royce pinched his lips on a laugh, a snort escaping his nose. Even in sweatpants and a t-shirt two sizes too big, he looked like a slutty fashion model. “You do have a way with people.” He opened his menu.
“Well, it’s not like anything we eat here will fuel us for the day. And I’ve only got one more meal of organ meats in the camper.” She’d told him about the hold up going back to Seattle. To which he’d merely lifted an eyebrow and muttered,
why does this not surprise me?
“We could always kill someone.” He grinned into his menu, oblivious and flipping his bangs back from his eyes.
Shani snapped, “I don’t even joke about that.”
He looked up at her. His eyebrows pinched in confusion before they rose in shock. “You’ve…” His head pulled back so far in disgust that Shani feared his scalp would fix to the seat. “You’ve…” he whispered. “Eaten somebody? I mean, like, an animal? Or a person?”
She wanted to laugh. He was so innocent—a freaky, kinky, man-slut ingénue. “I was built over fifty years ago. The ‘ethical treatment’ laws didn’t apply to corpses. And if they had, I’m pretty sure my makers wouldn’t have cared.” Shani shut her mouth then, because she knew she’d said too much. Knew it in the way her heart was beating faster and her face felt hot and puffy.
“Wow!” He stretched back in his seat, running both hands through his hair. “So you were built illegally?”
“Yeah.” Shani rushed to say something to lessen his shock. “But you know lifers. If something
can
be done, no law can stop ’em doing it.” She opened the menu again, trying to appear nonchalant. “And if it’s about sex, that goes double.”
Royce’s expression shifted from shocked to wise. “Well, that makes perfect sense then.” He looked across the room hopefully, trying to wave down their server.
“What does?” Shani leaned closer to talk because a couple had walked in and were standing in line for coffees at the counter. She’d told the owner they were contracted from Synaviv’s Los Angeles offices. That they were traveling up the coast to work as stunt doubles in a movie filming in Vancouver. Both of them were too good-looking to pass as military or lab rat, and Shani wasn’t sure how
former sex slave
would go over in the country.
“It makes sense that you would want to escape.” Royce held her gaze for a second, but only long enough to make an impression, before snapping his attention back to the waitress. “I mean, obviously
you
would have issues.”
“I do not have
issues
.” She bent her fingers in mock quotation marks, though his words niggled doubt into her consciousness. “Just because they brainwashed you and made you think—”
“So!” A waitress materialized in front of their table. Apparently the owner wasn’t coming back. “What would you two like?”
Royce rolled his gaze over the girl in sultry appraisal before flashing a big, wicked grin. “Thanks for asking, sugar. I’d like the steak and eggs, a glass of milk, and another cup of coffee.”
“Yes sir,” the waitress purred. Her cheeks turned pink under his gaze. Apparently lifers would take any flattery they could get, even from the sub-human. “I’ll get that right up for you.”
Shani slapped down her menu a little too hard. “I’ll have an order of sausage.” When the waitress dragged her attention away from Royce and focused on her, Shani tried to smile, but it may have looked more like a sneer. “Rare.”
The girl hurried away, not even asking for Shani’s drink order. When Shani met Royce’s eyes again, he held a hand in front of his mouth trying to hide his laughter.
“What?” Shani folded her arms and crossed her legs, getting more annoyed by the minute at how Royce couldn’t seem to stop snickering.
He wiped his eyes before answering. “Why do you do that?”
Shani’s shoulders hitched. “Do what?” She darted her gaze to the side, even though she knew the expression made her look angry.
“That.” He waved his hand her direction, up and down her body as if pointing out all her flaws. “It’s like everything you do or say is designed to piss someone off.” Royce must have noticed how she flinched, because he leaned back in his chair and lowered his voice when he said, “Honey or vinegar. That’s all I’m saying.”
“And I told you—”
“I know you can be sweet as molasses when you like.” His voice was offhand and mocking, but some emotion played in his eyes. Shani didn’t have time to wonder what that was before the waitress came back with Royce’s milk in one hand and a coffee pot in the other.
“I’m sorry.” She turned to Shani. “I didn’t get your drink order.” The girl traced a line around Shani with her eyes, never looking at her directly. “We have milk of course, juice, um…I could see if health codes would let us pour some blood off the raw meat into a glass if you want.”
“Why the hell would I want that? I’m not a damn vampire!” Shani’s words flew out, along with anger—the pent-up rage that always lurked inside her waiting to go off like a volcano and destroy everything in her tracks. She watched the girl tense up, wondered if she could stop herself from saying something else, when Royce’s hand landed on hers and gave a squeeze.
“Ha! Gosh, you are funny!” He nodded to the waitress, who turned his direction gratefully. “Forgive my friend, she forgets that most people don’t get stein humor.” Back to Shani, he said, “Milk is fine, right?” The way his hand tightened on hers was as much a warning as an admonishment.
Shani nodded, a little scared what she might say if she opened her mouth. Times like this she couldn’t tell whether her makers had programmed her to be a bitch or if she had taken on the challenge herself.
With a thankful look at Royce, the waitress left. Royce went back to snickering into his hand.
“Shut up.” Shani scowled at him. Then she balled up a napkin and tossed it his direction.
Royce responded by laughing outright, taking the straw out of his milk and blowing the paper tip at her across the table.
She tried to be angry when she batted it away, but Royce’s good humor was infectious. His eyes were crinkled around the corners, his grin equal parts fun and sexy. The way he sat with his arm wrapped around the back of the chair just invited a person to sit down next to him, to fold into the bend of his arm, and to get into a good-natured tickle fight that would lead to hot, uninhibited sex.
When she got back to Seattle, Shani was going to spend some quality time with her vibrator and her mental images of Royce Harden’s ass. “So why are you being so nice?” She had to ask. It could only benefit Royce if some kind of scene went down. If the cops got called in, they’d scan Royce’s chip and find out he belonged to Synadate. As Shani was undocumented, they’d turn her over to their parent company, Synaviv, for a scrub and rebuild.
“How do you know I am?” Royce smirked at her, sent her a naughty wink.
And
damn
!
Damn, damn, damn.
The boy was a living, breathing, gorgeous, scrunched-face-when-he-came advertisement for getting naked. And Shani wasn’t sure she’d make it back to Seattle without having to explain why she didn’t want to get naked too.
* * * * *
“When we get back to the camper, can you fuck me again?” Mud from the dirt path seeped into his leather boots. The black goth-gear looked ridiculous with his gray sweatpants, but Shani hadn’t thought to bring him shoes. Despite his horrible wardrobe and the dull nerve pain in his groin, Royce had sort of warmed up to this whole freedom thing. At least—it didn’t seem quite as terrible as it had the day before.
“You hurting again?” She patted his shoulder, and then smoothed a hand down his back. “Let’s get you to the camper and take care of you, yeah?” She brushed up next to him, swung his arm over her shoulder.
It felt nice, having her close. And she smelled really great—like some kind of flowery moisturizer and sun-warmed skin. “I didn’t break my leg.” Royce stood more firmly on his feet, not taking his arm from its position behind her neck, but pulling her to him, not the other way around. “It’s my dick that’s broken.” He meant to sound grumpy, but found his lips twitching into a smile.
She patted him on the stomach in a move he was pretty sure was supposed to be a swat, but came out a caress. “Stop being a baby. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
They walked back to the camper van, Royce pretending not to hobble, Shani pretending he needed her help. “So let’s say I do let you take me to Seattle.”
She made a little face—like a half-irritated scowl. “What do you mean ‘if’? I don’t see as you have any choice.”
“Oh I could make it hard for you if I wanted.” He groaned at a particularly uncomfortable step.
“Oh could you?”
He caught her double-entendre. “Ha ha!” Royce winced, cupping his groin. “Don’t make me laugh!” Each bounce of his body made the pain worse. “Seriously, though. Say I go to your people in Seattle, are you sure they can fix this? I mean our solution isn’t exactly workable in the long term.” They rounded shrubbery separating the path from their campsite. “Though I can’t say I mind.” He added a hint of question, wondering how she might respond.
When she answered, Shani’s voice was all business. “I swear to you. Frank will remove whatever torture device they got on you. He’ll make the pain and the…uh, horniness…go away, and you’ll be just fine.” She took his hand and squeezed, her thick, beautiful lips lifting on one side into a rare smile. “I wouldn’t be taking you there otherwise.”
They wound into their campsite to find a golf cart parked next to the van. The occupant, some state park official or campground manager, wrote on a pad of tickets. “This camper here yours?” he called out as they approached. The guy wore a grumpy expression and a walkie-talkie at his hip. “Y’all didn’t think to register when you came in last night? This spot was reserved. You can’t just wander into any site you want this time of year.” He stepped off his golf cart and slapped a ticket on the windshield of the van. “I need you gone.”
Royce waited a breath for Shani’s explosion. The way she fisted her hands and bent her knees looked like she was planning to run at the guy. He could half-believe she’d actually eaten someone once. “Where the f—?”
He grabbed her arm and yanked her back before she had a chance to finish her statement. “I’m sorry, sir. It was late when we came in, we figured we’d register this morning. Can we pay you now?” He held his smile with gritted teeth.
The state park guy smacked his lips over his dentures. “The invoice is included in the citation. Send it to the address on the form.” He hurried into his little vehicle and started the engine. Royce wasn’t sure what spooked the guy, but it might have been that he noticed their skin, a few scars, and put it all together. He pulled out into the circular drive around the campsites and shouted from a little distance away, “You’d best be out within the hour. And don’t let no one see you either. We don’t allow…” He shook his head, as if unsure where exactly he stood on this topic. “Listen, I have to report you if you hang around. It’s my job.” He pulled away before Royce could read his expression, but Shani picked up a mid-sized rock and cocked it behind her head to throw at him.
Royce caught her hand mid-swing and pulled the stone out of her grip. “That is a really bad idea.” He hauled her toward the van, pinning her shoulders against the white metal frame. “Do you want to get caught? Is that it? Because just give me your cell phone and I’ll call the service.”
Her eyes widened—a jolt of terror lurking in their depths—and her breath rushed out. Then Shani ducked out of his grip and pitched around, swinging a fist at his jaw. Royce caught her arm and flung her off, tossing her onto the dirt before he’d thought, or felt, or wondered about the outcome. And there, from her place on the weeds, she snarled at him. Actually, honest to goodness snarled. Then she launched, flying like a typhoon until they collided and Shani landed on top of him on the spongy ground.
She straddled his hips and landed a short punch in his side, then his shoulder. When he grabbed her hands and held her wrists between them, Shani shook with anger—her lips wet, as well as her eyes.
Royce strained his neck and shoulders. He brushed his nose across the teardrops on her eyelashes. Then he pressed his lips to her mouth.
She stilled, trembling as if she might break into a thousand pieces. She held her hands between them, a barrier to hold him off. Yet her tongue slid into his mouth.
He lay back as she pressed him down, letting her explore, taste, take her time. Royce released her wrists. His hands drifted to Shani’s sides where her waist flared into the swell of her hips.
Her balled-up fists relaxed until slowly, slowly she pressed her open palms to his chest. They were so close—her belly flush against his—without the space that would have been taken up by a hard-on. The thought made him feel oddly sexy and deliciously wrong.