Numbers (20 page)

“You want my touch?”

“More than anything.”

“I’m angry.”

“I know.”

“I could hurt you.”

She relaxed, keeping her gaze locked with his. “I’d rather
feel your temper than nothing at all.”

He curled his hands into fists and flattened his knuckles on
the door next to her chest and closed his eyes. It was easy to inch closer
until he pressed lightly against her body. She pushed her face forward to rest
her forehead against his chest. He just stood there, feeling her warm breath
through the thin material of his shirt. She felt small, but that was nothing
new. His Candi had always been tiny but fierce. It also made it real. She was
alive.

“Do you remember what you did when you woke up after they
first brought you into my cell?”

“I cried,” she murmured. “I knew my mother was dead and
Christopher had taken her from me. He abandoned me in a cold room, and I knew
he wouldn’t ever let me out. I didn’t even think I’d see him again.”

He lowered his chin, resting it on top of her head. She fit
there, as she always had. “You hurt my ears with all that sobbing.” He pressed
a little closer. “You looked up and saw me crouched in the corner.” He smiled
at the memory. “I believed you’d start screaming or make louder sounds but you
didn’t. You just crawled off my mat and right to me. I thought you might attack
and I tensed, prepared to knock you away since I’d been told I couldn’t hurt
you. Instead you threw your arms around me. You held on so tight.”

She turned her face a little, pressing her cheek against his
chest, nuzzling him. “You let me. You even took me back to the mat and curled
up with me. I was cold and you were warm.”

“You needed me.”

“I’ve always needed you, and I always will.”

He stopped pushing his fists against the door and eased them
back, opening his hands. He hesitantly placed them on her waist. Her skin,
where it was bare, felt cool to his touch.

“You were my one weakness,” he admitted.

“I never meant to be. You were always my greatest strength.”

He tightened his hold on her just above her hips and backed
up a little so their bodies were no longer pressed together. He opened his
eyes, looking down at her. “I’m going to lift you up to take the pressure off
the belts. Slip them off. Don’t do this again. Do you ever listen to me? No one
wants to be restrained to a wall.”

“I’ll do it over and over again until you stop avoiding
touching me.”

“What am I going to do with you?” She made him feel so much
at once. Frustration, irritation, pain, but also good things. Amusement,
warmth, and the need to get close to her and keep her there.

“Anything you want.” She blinked back tears. “I’ve always
been yours and nothing can ever change that.”

He lifted her and his anger surged. He snarled. She didn’t
flinch at his sudden outburst. She just kept looking at him as if she had nothing
to fear.

“You should weigh more.” It infuriated him. She felt so
frail. He hoisted her higher and adjusted his hold, wrapping one arm entirely
around her waist to anchor her in place. It freed his other hand to tear at the
tight belt to loosen its grip. The red marks on her wrists where the leather
had indented would probably leave bruises.

“Silly female,” he growled. He got her loose and backed
away, carrying her over to his bed. “You’ve hurt yourself.”

She tugged her wrists out of his hold before he could set
her down on top of the mattress. It startled him when her legs came up and
wrapped around his waist as she threw her arms around his neck. She clung to
him tightly.

He lowered his face, burying it against her throat. He
breathed her in. The scent wasn’t quite the same, but it was familiar enough
that there was no denying she was his Candi. He just stood there, holding her
and allowing her to hold him. He remembered the first time he’d claimed she was
his…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The cell door opened and one of the technicians shoved Candi
into their space. When she nearly tripped and went down, 927 shot to his feet
and snarled at the human male. Tears streaked Candi’s face and he could pick up
the acidic odor of her pain. He also picked up the scent of fresh blood. Hers.

He snarled louder and glared at the technician with rage.
The male snorted, pulling his weapon to keep him from attacking.

“I didn’t hurt her. Dr. C is to blame if you want to kill
someone.” He slammed the door.

927 went to Candi and grabbed her around her waist. He
lifted her off her feet and took her to their mat. He sat, putting her on his
lap. He sniffed to find the source of her pain. It didn’t take long. He grabbed
the shirt she wore and pushed the material up her arm. A bandage had been placed
just under her wrist and the white gauze was soaked with bright-red blood.

“What did Dr. C do to you?”

She lifted her tear-filled gaze. “He took blood because he
thinks I might not be his daughter. He’s going to test it against his own to
see if I am. He said horrible things about my mommy.”

He spotted bruises that were forming on her wrist and upper
arm. “You fought?”

“He was so mean, and the needle hurt.” She sniffed. “He said
I might be a bastard. That means I don’t have parents since he killed my mommy.”

She was so little and harmless. It infuriated him that Dr. C
would be so cruel to her, but then again, he’d locked her in a cell with him.
“It doesn’t matter if you are from his blood or not. I don’t have parents. They
call me a bastard.” He reached up and gently wiped away her tears. “It doesn’t
make me cry.”

“You never cry.” She turned her face into his chest and
wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him tightly. “What if I am a
bastard? I don’t belong to anyone.”

He rested his chin on top of her head and held her more
firmly against his body. “You belong to me. He put us together. I would cry if
they took you away and never brought you back. It would hurt me.”

She stopped crying and tipped her head, staring at him.
“Really?”

He nodded. “Yes. No more tears, Candi. I care about you.”

“He told me the date. It’s my birthday today.” Tears welled
in her eyes again and spilled down her cheeks. “My mommy invited all my friends
to my party. Do you think they are looking for me?”

“I don’t know.” He wiped her face again, hating to see her
in so much pain. The concept of having friends or a party was foreign to him,
but it mattered to her. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

“We don’t have cake and my mommy promised me she’d bought me
the doll I want.”

He didn’t know what either of those things were. “They will
feed us soon and you can eat it all.”

“I can’t eat that much. I’d get sick. I don’t want you to be
hungry later.”

“I would let you if you could.” He pushed the hair away from
her face, studying her features. She had grown on him since they’d brought her
into his cell. He did care and it would hurt him if they took her away. “We
will have fun.” He got an idea. “It’s your birthday. Sing to me. You like to do
that. I’ll try to learn the words and do it with you. That will make you
happy.”

Her smile warmed him inside. “You’d do that for me?” She
turned her head to peer at the camera, and then back at him. “They are
watching. You don’t want them to see that.”

“I don’t care if they know I want you to be happy.”

“You’re not a bastard, 927. You belong to me.”

He grinned. “That is right, Candi. It is just us. That makes
it perfect. Don’t let them hurt you or make you cry again.”

“I won’t.”

Candi clung to Hero and she wasn’t letting go. Her wrists
did throb, but it was worth it to be pressed against her male, his arm around
her. The feel of his hot breath fanning her neck tickled a little, but she had
no complaints. She blindly reached for his hair, needing to run her fingers
through those silky strands. They were wet, but she didn’t care. He groaned
when she did, giving her better access when he leaned his head closer to her.

Time could never move fast enough in her experience, but she
suddenly wished it would just stop. She wanted to enjoy that moment forever.
927 was alive and they were together. It seemed too good to be true. She
panicked. What if she was still back in the asylum, experiencing some
drug-induced delusion? It had happened before when they overmedicated her.

She dug her fingernails into his shirt and fisted his hair.
He growled a warning and she eased her hold. 927 lifted his head, frowning with
displeasure, his dark gaze also revealing his puzzlement.

“I’m making sure you’re real,” she admitted. “Life is so
cruel. I half expect to wake up and find myself still locked inside that room.”

His other arm suddenly pressed against her ass, holding her
up. “What did they do to you?”

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing does but this, being with you.
Please just let me hold you. Please?” She’d beg if that’s what he needed to
soothe his pride. Pride didn’t matter when it came to him.

He twisted his head, glanced back, and then sat on the bed.
He shifted her a little so she was firmly planted on his lap. She adjusted her
legs, keeping them wrapped around his waist, and buried her face against him.
She breathed him in, enjoying just being close to him. He was solid, big, warm
and alive.

One of his arms loosened from around her ass and she tensed,
worried he’d try to untangle them. He didn’t. Instead he reached up and stroked
her hair down her back. She relaxed. He nuzzled her head with his cheek.

“You feel so delicate. I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you.”

“I’ll gain weight,” she promised. “I know I’m bony, but I’m
tough.”

“What did Doc Trisha say?”

He was worried about her health. It meant he cared. “She
didn’t find anything alarming, but I’m underweight. She said to eat lots, get
some sunshine and tell her if I have any problems.”

“You said she ran tests.”

“Everything so far is fine.”

“When do all the test results come back?”

“A few days.”

His silence stretched but she didn’t mind. He held her and
stroked her hair, his fingers playing with the strands. It felt heavenly. She
was touch starved. He eventually began to explore other parts of her, running
his palm over her sides, and then down to her hip, wrapping his hand there as
if to test her bones.

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

“I should feed you.”

“I just ate. I’ll get sick if I force food into my stomach
while I adjust to regular meals. I’m not used to it.”

He growled, his displeasure clear. He released her hip and
wrapped his fingers around her upper arm, exploring her shoulder on that side.
She really enjoyed it when he lowered his hand and slid it between the shirt
and her skin, running his palm over her spine. She arched into him, pressing
her breasts tighter against his chest. He froze and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Careful,” he rasped.

“What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing. Don’t push against me that way.”

She lifted her head and he jerked his back. They peered at
each other. “Why not?”

He glanced down between them at her breasts and growled
softly. “You’ve gotten bigger in one place.”

“My breasts grew.”

She felt no embarrassment. It was 927. He’d been there the
first time she’d gotten her period. He’d actually known it before she had…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

927 sniffed at her and flipped her onto her back on their
mat. Candi thought he’d lost his mind when he suddenly bent forward. He grabbed
her legs, parted them, and shoved his face right against her private area. He sniffed,
and then jerked back. He looked confused, but stood and turned to stare up at
the camera.

“She’s hurt. Send in someone. There’s blood.”

Evelyn took her out of the cell and explained a woman’s
cycle. She gave Candi pads and sent her back to 927. She repeated everything to
him that she’d been told. 927 helped her figure out how they were to be worn
since they had loops and a belt to go around her waist.

Christopher came in later that evening. He was angry and
demanded that she be taken to another cell. The order traumatized Candi. She
fought him. She just wanted to lie down with 927 on their mat. Her tummy hurt
and 927 had been distracting her by playing with her hair.

Every month after that, she had to leave the cell while she
bled. Christopher wouldn’t allow 927 to be around her during that time. She
hated being alone in the room next to him, but they learned to tap the walls,
to reassure each other that they were okay.

In time 927 had started reacting strangely to her cycle.
He’d tell her she was about to start, and then stay far away from her.

“Come here. I’m cold. Hold me,” she pleaded.

He shook his head, twisted his body against the corner and
growled.

“What is wrong?”

“They need to take you away now.”

“Shush. I don’t want to go.”

“You need to.”

“Why?”

He looked infuriated and turned. “This is why.”

She looked at the front of his pants, stunned. He sometimes
got hard in that area in the morning, the bulge noticeable, but it usually went
away after he peed. It was afternoon now, and they hadn’t just woken.

“It happens when you start to smell of blood. Your scent
changes and I react. It hurts.”

Evelyn had another discussion with her. She repeated it to
927. It changed everything. They wouldn’t allow Candi to return to the cell she
shared with 927 except during what they called visiting hours. She cried
buckets at having to sleep without him. He was enraged. Christopher didn’t want
to risk having 927 and her sharing sex. He said they were too young, and he
wouldn’t allow it. The technicians would watch them and they were rarely
allowed to touch.

Three years passed that way until that fateful day when
Evelyn approached her about the breeding experiment. Her body had changed
during that time. She’d grown breasts and gotten body hair. She told 927 about
it, but hadn’t been able to show him since the technicians would have rushed in
to take her away if she’d attempted to bare her body…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Candi pulled her mind away from the memories and stared into
927’s eyes. They were alone finally and no one could stop them from doing
whatever they wanted.

He was still looking at her breasts. She lowered her arms,
letting him go, and gripped the top of the shirt, pulling it away from her
body. She tugged it down, exposing her breasts to him. She leaned back just a
bit on his lap so he could get a better view. She even arched her spine and
pushed her shoulders back.

His eyes widened and a low growl rumbled from him. He looked
up. “What are you doing?”

“You were staring. Now the shirt isn’t hiding them. You can
touch them. They are soft.”

He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, twisting his head
to the side. “Cover them.”

She felt something under her ass where it rested on his lap.
“You’re hard.”

“Cover them,” he snarled.

She eased the material up over her breasts and gripped his
shoulders. “I didn’t mean to anger you.”

He breathed through his nose, his nostrils flaring.

“I shaved off the hair at Medical. I’d show you that too but
Doc Trisha said it was good grooming to remove the hair on my legs, under my
arms and on my private area. I didn’t remove all of that though. She showed me
a picture of how most humans keep that area trimmed. I kept a little bit of it
on my mound. I didn’t cut myself with the razor.”

He opened his eyes and turned his head, holding her gaze. He
still looked upset, but it wasn’t quite anger. She couldn’t identify the
emotion.

“Why would she make you do that?”

“She didn’t make me. She looked at me strangely when I
stripped naked for her to examine me and I asked why. That’s when she told me
about feminine hygiene and good grooming. I didn’t know. Nobody ever said
anything at Mercile or at the asylum. They wouldn’t have given me a razor
anyway. Doc Trisha wanted me to fit in. Species females don’t have any hair on
their bodies. She showed me a picture and taught me how to shave. It was kind
of fun. Have you played with shaving cream? It comes in a can and it sprays
white foam out. It’s soft and gooey. It smells nice too. I had to spread it all
over my skin where I wanted to run the razor over it. You don’t have to shave,
do you?”

He shook his head. “How did you reach the back of your
legs?”

“I bent down and kind of twisted.”

He reached down and ran his fingers over the back of her thigh.
He leaned to the side, studying it. “You missed a few spots. The hair is soft.”

“I did?”

“Stand up.”

She hesitated.

He straightened. “I want to see.”

“I’m afraid you won’t let me close to you again if I get off
your lap.”

A muscle jumped just over his jawline when he clenched his
teeth but then his mouth relaxed. “I will let you hold me. Stand. I want to
see.”

She climbed off his lap regretfully, stood in front of him,
and then she turned around. He lifted the shirt she wore a few inches and ran
his other palm along the back of her upper thigh. He surprised her when he slid
off the bed to his knees and bent a little to study her closer.

“It’s just a few spots.”

She turned her head, watching him. He stopped stroking her
skin and released the shirt. He lifted his head, holding her gaze. “Turn to
me.”

She faced him. His gaze lowered to her stomach and he sat
back on his heels. He gripped his thighs with both hands. She saw his knuckles
whiten as if he were squeezing his legs tightly. He cleared his throat.

“I want to see the hair. Show me.”

She fisted the shirt that fell to her mid thighs and slowly
pulled it up. She’d stripped bare to put on his shirt so she didn’t have to do
anything but bring the hem up to her lower belly. She studied his face, curious
what he’d do when he saw it. It was tempting to just pull the shirt entirely
off, but the sight of her breasts made him angry. That wasn’t her intention.

927’s breathing increased as he visually inspected her.
Every muscle in him seemed to tense from his face to his shoulders, and he
flexed his arms as if his hold on his legs had increased. He closed his eyes.

“You need to lower your shirt and back away from me,” he
ground out.

She released the shirt and retreated a few steps. “Why?”

“Go into the bathroom. Give me a few minutes.”

“No. You’re going to leave.”

His eyes snapped open and she saw anger glistening in them.
“Do it or I’ll toss you on my bed and fuck you.”

She lowered her gaze to his lap. The outline of his cock was
clear. His jeans weren’t much of a deterrent to the evidence of his state of
arousal. He wanted her. He was trying to send her fleeing in fear, but it had
the opposite effect. Hope surged. He wanted to mount her.

Candi grabbed the shirt and lifted it, tearing it off and
tossing it down on the carpet. “Do it.”

His eyes widened and he snarled. His gaze locked on her
naked body though.

She took a step closer. “Take me. I’m yours. I’ve always
been yours.”

Raw pain flashed in his eyes as he tore his gaze off her
lower body and looked up. “I’ll hurt you.”

She understood those snarled words. “I’d welcome it.” She
took another step closer and knelt in front of him. She inched closer, putting
her hands on his chest. The muscles under her palms were hard and firm. “Touch
me,” she urged. “Please.”

He trembled.

“I want you,” she whispered. “I need you.”

He moved fast, but she didn’t flinch when his hands suddenly
gripped her waist. He jerked her up off her knees. She did gasp when he threw
her onto her back on the soft mattress. She bounced once and stilled, a bit
stunned. A door slammed and she pushed up to her elbow. He was gone. One sweep
of her gaze revealed that he really had just left her in his bedroom.

Tears filled her eyes a second later when another door
slammed. He hadn’t just left her in his bedroom, he’d left his apartment. She
turned on her side, drew her knees up and curled into a tight ball.

Hero had forgotten about the officer who was stationed in
the hallway outside his door. He stepped around the male. “I’m going for a
walk.”

He took the stairs down to the first floor and burst out the
back door of the men’s dorm. He nearly collided with a female and had to twist
to avoid making contact, slamming his shoulder into the wall. Kit frowned at
him.

“Where’s the emergency, Hero?”

“There isn’t one.” He shoved away from the wall and tried to
step around her.

“Not so fast.” She gripped his arm, shoved him up against
the wall and stepped into him, pinning him there.

He scowled but didn’t shove her away. “Let go and move.”

She eased her grip and removed her hand. “You stood me up. I
was coming to find you.”

He had forgotten he was supposed to meet her at the bar.
“Something came up.”

She growled as she gave him a once-over with her shrewd
gaze. “I see your erection. Who is the female I smell on you?” She leaned in
and sniffed. “Not familiar.”

“I don’t want to talk about this. I apologize, but I need to
be alone.”

“You asked me to have dinner with you. I expected we would
share sex after we danced. I’m owed an explanation.”