Artifice - Man x Man - Book Six

Chapter 6

"I think you're not thinking clearly; you're obviously going through withdrawal." He knows me well. I consider my plan of attack, calculating which way he'd likely try and escape. In a bold act, I place my hands on the table and slowly crawl across it as I glance up at him through my lashes.

"Do you want to know what I think?" He inhales suddenly as I come before him, hooking one of my hands in his pants as my nose nuzzles against his groin. "I think if they're looking for a show, let's give them one-" I freeze as I hear a creak, and at first, I think someone has come in only for the table to groan and crash out from under me.

I sit on the table, in a new room at least, sighing as Tanya finishes putting the sticky paste on the slice in my eyebrow. Verando is still laughing, though it's much tamer now compared to the terror followed by the realization that I was ok if not a little embarrassed.

"So, in the future, tables aren't meant to hold the body weight of a person." She comments, with a look over the top of her glasses, only to glance at my warlord accusingly. I could practically pout if my pride weren't so mangled. Flinching at the sting of the paste on my cut, I hop up to shrug from her grasp.

"Do you know how many tables I've had sex on? Maybe you need a new design for your tables." She flushes at my boldness, and I adjust the smooth, dark-colored cotton shirt. I feel almost naked; there are no vests, no tall socks, no boots or jackets. No robes, no crowns, not even an undershirt. "You people wear minimal clothes." It's almost a complaint. I wriggle in my jeans, not liking the low rise and the way they hug my hips. I feel as though gravity must be against me, and yet they don't fall.

"This is just casual wear." She informs me, offering a shirt to Verando and trying not to make eye contact. The color is black, and with the way it clings to him, I decided that maybe a lack of clothes is a good thing. "When we go out, there are multiple things you can wear depending on where you're going, but for around the compound, this is the most comfortable. Are you ready for your briefing?"

"Briefing?" More English.

"Brought up to speed. Into the loop. What's going on." She explains. Reluctantly, I nod. I was hoping to finish what I started.

A small girl enters the room, and I startle, beyond embarrassed by my lude thoughts. "Mummy, Uncle Tonic says we are ready." Her English accent melts my heart, and I instantly erase my discomfort to admire this pale-haired girl.

"Hello!" I greet her, "What's your name?"

"This is Silvia. My youngest daughter." Tonya introduces.

"I'm four." She holds up her fingers and steals a shy glance at Verando, who smiles at her. "You look like Tyler." She tells me, touching the hem of my shirt. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Of course!" I'm at her mercy as she leads me down the hall, Tonya and Verando trailing behind. I marvel at her thick, wavy, shoulder-length hair and wonder why they've cut it short, though as I think back, Helen also had short hair as well as her mother. My eyes wander as we walk at an unrealistic speed, she bobbles and bounces beside me like a bundle of energy, babbling to me about her day and making comparisons between my double ganger and me.

"I found them, Uncle Tonic! I found them all by myself!" She chimes, tugging my hand excitedly. "Tyler, he looks like you!"

"He does, Silvia. That's why he's here." Tyler holds out his arms, and I reluctantly release her as she runs to him only to yank him back over to me.

"Tell him your name; it's polite." She tells me. I smirk at her and Tonya sighs, picking her up. I swoon at my gray-haired companion, who rolls his eyes at me, shaking his head with a loss of comprehension. It's not fair. He has four children, how dare he judge me so.