Page 139 of Tracked and Taken

“You have a 0830 with Morrison.”

“I cannot show up to a 0830 with Morrison having spent the morning being whatever it is your thumb is doing to me.”

“I am agreeing with you, Natalie.”

“You are not.”

His mouth at my temple. The purr, low, the home register, which is cheating. The thumb slowing. Not stopping. The pad of it presses just over the two small scars, and the live wire last night put there lights all the way down into my cunt.

“How long do you need to be presentable to Morrison?” he says.

“Forty-five minutes.”

“How long does the wash take?”

“Eight.”

“Then we have thirty-seven minutes.”

“Tael.”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

His thumb is still at the mark. His other hand has found the small of my back and is holding me on him, not grinding, just present, so I can feel every ridge of what declining would mean walking away from. It is doing something that is undermining my ability to decline.

“I have a 0830 with Morrison.”

“You have mentioned the 0830, sweetheart.”

“I am establishing the parameters.”

“Establish.”

“The parameters are: thirty-seven minutes. The wash. No exposure to anything that will require me to do my hair twice. And I am walking into that office able to sit down.”

“Copy, Natalie.”

“Stop smirking.”

“I am not smirking.”

“I can hear you smirking through the purr. And I can feel you against my leg. Do not insult both of our intelligence.”

He laughs into my hair. Quiet. Guilty. Not sorry.

The shower in his quarters is Junction One staff-grade, a single cubicle built for one body of standard dimensions, which means it was never built for him at all and is, when I step in after him, holding two bodies the engineers did not plan for.

He has to duck.

His shoulders fill the cubicle from wall to wall.

I am against the warm wall of his chest before the water has finished cycling up to temperature. Bare. His cock, a thick, wet heat against the small of my back the second the spray hits us. His tail has already found the inside of my thigh, as if it clocked off for the night and reported for duty with the water.

“Sweetheart.”

“Mm.”

“This shower was not built for the two of us.”