Forty-Two

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"Stop laughing like that," Charlie hisses, "it's giving me the creeps."

A wider smile comes across my face at his discomfort. He's strapped down to a mental table wearing only a grey medical gown. The man is at my complete mercy, but that's not why I'm laughing.

I'm starting to think we're a half-assed version of Frankenstein's monster. Does it make me Frankenstein? I am the catalyst for this process and a recipient of its perks.

Still, not why I'm laughing.

I'd probably be brutally judged for this thought, but... there's something about seeing a strong man all tied up and nowhere to go. His muscles are roiling and the bulge at the base of his abdomen has never been more front and center in my life. I'm thinking wild, deliciously disgusting thoughts about this man.

Maybe Chris would let me tie him up and suck him off? Would I take the cuffs off when I was done or keep his hands away while I ride him until we both orgasm? Decisions. Decisions.

Laughter is the only thing saving me and my thirsty thoughts. Chris pouting with his hands above his head and his body mine for the taking? Yes, please. Sign me up.

"Awww... is baby uncomfortable?"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't forget, Princess. When I'm out of these things, I'll be just like you."

I pretend to consider his words, lifting a hand to my chin. "I'm sure Chris wouldn't mind putting you on your ass."

"He'd have to get here fast enough." He lifts from the table, straining the bindings at his waist and wrists. "And I don't think he will."

"Big words coming from a man who is still tied down."

"Untie me and see what happens."

"Oh," I shrug a shoulder and point to the monitors hanging on the walls to his left. "I can't. Doctor's orders."

"You're the doctor."

"And I'm ordering you to remain strapped to the table. Do I need to ask Iris to tighten them? They seem a bit too loose."

"Are you scared of me, Princess?" Slowly, he studies me, eyes drawing down my frame with something akin to desire. I don't want to think these thoughts. They don't help either of us.

"Scared I'll have to kick your ass? Not in the least."

"I'll know the truth soon enough—being in your head and all."

My stomach drops.

I'd forgotten about the mental connection. It would be weird having a third person roaming around in my emotions. He, like Chris, would have a front-row seat to the shit show always performing in my mind.

Even now, when the tests were back and things looked good, there was a dark cloud hanging over the recesses of my thoughts. Doubts. Fears. Hopes. Dreams.

All of them wrap into a single incoherent march of information on the backs of Iris' updates and the possible upgrades to my system. Then, there are the designs I'm thinking of and the looming conversations with the nations and corporations I've cut off. Ryker is dealing with them—mostly—but they're demanding I show my face and explain my actions.

As if I have anything to explain to them...

They are the ones who defied me. They are the ones who let in an outside source. And they will pay for innovating and redesigning my systems.

Honestly, they should count their lucky stars I'm not selling to their competitors to destroy them. Yet, I'd never stomach the loss of innocent lives. Their people didn't cause this mess and they should never bear the burden.

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