Lark cranked on the water and while they waited for it to warm up, they once again stripped off their wet boots and clothes, tossing them aside. When Lark yanked the elastic out of her hair and freed her fire, Grady’s breath hitched. Almost reverently, he slid his fingers into the long, wet locks. “I love your hair,” he told her. Bringing it to his face, he inhaled the floral scent and closed his eyes for a moment to savor the sensation. “I want to feel it wrapped around me.”
Lark’s cool fingertips touched his cheek, a small, pleased smile playing on her lips. “I’ll add that to our to-do list,” she told him.
Taking his hand, she pulled him into the shower and for several moments they stood under the hot spray just holding each other tightly in their arms. She fit perfectly against him, and in her arms, he felt normal for the first time in a long time. With Lark, he was just a man, holding a woman.
“Let me wash your hair,” he offered.
When she nodded, he kissed her forehead and stepped back to grab the bottle of shampoo. Popping the top, he went to pour the liquid into his other hand. His mechanical hand. A weapon that could crush bones with barely a thought. That’s when his bubble burst. He wasn’t normal. Not even close. And the thought of putting this hand anywhere near Lark’s head… he shuddered at the thought.
Lark wasn’t a mind reader, but she didn’t need to be. What Grady was thinking as he stood there, staring down at his prosthetic, was written on his face. His expression was bleak and laced with regret.
She’d been too wrapped up in the pleasure of their lovemaking earlier to notice, but she suddenly realized that any time he touched her, if he could help it, he only did so with his right hand. The hand that was still flesh and blood.
Purposefully, she reached out and traced her fingers over the grooves and ridges of his metal palm and while she saw him flinch at the light touch, he didn’t pull it away. “Can you feel me touching you?”
His eyes met hers. “Yes.”
A sudden snapshot of files she’d pored over before she’d been injured filled her head. Information about the Resurrection project and the details about the prosthetic arms all of the soldiers had been fitted with. Weapons systems, data ports, technology used to bypass security systems and crack code, but also, sensory processors that allowed them to feel.
Taking his hand in hers, she moved it toward her breast, but Grady froze. His head shook adamantly back and forth. “No.”
“It’s part of you, Grady.” Holding his eyes with hers, she told him, “You won’t hurt me.”
His lips twisted with disgust. “How can you stand to even touch it?”
“Because it’s part of you.” She let him see the truth of that statement on her face.
His expression crumpled.
With a little murmur, she stepped in close to him and wrapped her arm around him while she pressed his robotic hand to her chest, repeating, “It’s part of you.”
He shuddered, and the fingers of his prosthetic curled gently around the small mound of her breast. Feeling her, shaping her, memorizing her, but never hurting her. Grady would never hurt her. She knew that with every fiber of her being. It was time he did as well.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Theyshouldbesleeping.As everyone seemed to want to point out at every opportunity, Lark had just woken from a coma and he’d undergone a major procedure earlier that day. But neither one of them was in a hurry to call it a night. It was late, and dark in Lark’s bedroom as they lay close together, facing each other on her bed, while rain tapped gently against the windows. Perfect for sleeping. It was also perfect for talking and Lark had been telling him about the first time she’d met the General. The day she’d been freed.
A clatter at her front door had both of them looking in that direction, but neither one of them got up.
“Since when do you lock your door?” Kong shouted. A few bangs with those meaty fists were followed by, “Are you in there, Lark?”
“I’m in here. Go away!” Lark returned, grinning broadly.
“Why would you lock me out? That hurts my feelings.”
She rolled her eyes and Grady quietly chuckled. She called out, “You’ll recover.”
There was a beat of silence, and then, Kong asked suspiciously, “Is Grady in there with you? Are you two getting busy?”
“None of your business.”
“Fine. Tell Grady I’m not waiting up for him.”
While Grady expected that to be the end of it, Lark held up her hand and raised a finger. A second later, she added another, when she raised the third, Kong called out, “Did you hear me, Grady?”
Lark snickered. “He’s fishing,” she whispered. “But I’ll leave it up to you if you want to answer.”
With a grin, he called out, “I heard you. Good night, Kong.”
