A soldier, a doctor, and a stark white laboratory full of lies.
I awaken in a laboratory.
I don’t know who I am.
I’m inexplicably drawn to the doctor who cares for me. She tells me I’ve been altered, that I’m stronger and faster, that I’ll be a key component in a war between corporations. She says I volunteered for this. She says I volunteered to be transformed, but I have no way of knowing if what she says is true.
Something isn’t right. My memories have been taken, wiped clean, but dreams begin to slip into my conscious mind. I can’t let anyone know when that happens, or they’ll remove my memories again. Somewhere inside of me, I know I need to remember something important.
I’m fighting a war I don’t understand, and the one woman I rely on can’t be trusted.
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“That’s why I can’t stop thinking about fucking you.”
Her eyes widen, and she quickly looks away from me. She stands and starts to pull her hand away, but I push myself off the bed and grasp her arm before she can go anywhere. Our bodies touch, and I reach one arm around her back and pull her tightly against me.
I cup her face with my hand and run my thumb across her lips. Her scent is all over me now, and I want to experience her with my tongue. Would her taste resemble her scent or complement it? I have to know.
Pulling her closer, I press my open mouth to hers. Her body stills, and she grips my shoulder with one hand as the other presses against my chest. Her mouth is warm. I can feel her breath as my tongue slides inside. Her taste is indefinable, smooth like sweet liquor I can’t recall ever tasting.
There is a shift inside of her. It can’t be seen or heard, but I can smell it and taste it. The smell of her skin becomes darker, thicker. I feel her flex her fingers on my shoulder as she tilts her head to allow me to deepen the kiss.
How would her scent change if I were inside of her? What sounds would she make when she comes? Would she muffle her cries or be loud enough for all those watching us to hear? How would it feel to come inside of her? What sounds would I make?
I don’t even know if I’m a virgin.
Reaching behind her, I shove whatever is on the side table to the floor, lift Riley up, and set her down on the edge. I grip her hips and pull her against my stomach. The table is too high. I can’t fuck her from this angle. I break the kiss, lift her effortlessly, turn, and drop her ass to the edge of the bed.
I freeze my actions. My entire body tightens, and my dick throbs in my shorts.
It’s too much. I need this. I need her.
I don’t move.
“You have to let go of me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and withdraw my hands only enough to release her. I keep them close enough to still feel the heat from her body and detect the shift of air when she moves. She uses her hands to push herself backward on the bed, away from me.
The muscles in my legs shake. I’m so wound up, and I can’t let it go. The tension becomes painful and the need for release so prevalent, I can no longer think. I grip the edge of the bed until my knuckles turn white. As soon as she pulls her legs back and pushes herself off the edge of the bed, on the side opposite me, I grab the bed and throw it, smashing it into the mirror.
I glare at my reflection, and the strange dark eyes glare back at me. The unfamiliar lips are curled up in a snarl, and the unkempt beard creates a frightening image. Everything about the man looking back at me is alien.
Didn’t I just shave last night?
About the Author:
Shay Savage lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her family and a variety of household pets. She is an accomplished public speaker, and holds the rank of Distinguished Toastmaster from Toastmasters International. When not writing, she enjoys science fiction movies, masquerading as a zombie, is a HUGE Star Wars fan, and member of the 501st Legion of Stormtroopers. When the geek fun runs out, she also loves soccer in any and all forms – especially the Columbus Crew, Arsenal and Bayern Munich. Savage holds a degree in psychology, and she brings a lot of that knowledge into the characters within her stories.
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