Page 54

“Survival. He might want to scare us, but if he takes down the whole place, he goes with it.” Mason squeezed my hand. “Elevator hold.”

The car jerked to a stop, and I gasped, nearly losing my balance. But Mason was there and caught me neatly before gathering me to him.

“We haven’t had much privacy lately, and there’s something I want to do. Then you can go back to work.”

Before I could say another word, his lips were on mine, salty, sweet, and oh so needy. I sighed, parting my own to allow his tongue access. He backed me into the glass of the elevator and aligned his body with mine. I felt his need pressing against me right through my dress. His one hand cradled the back of my head as his other crept the fabric up and slipped beneath to the edges of my panties. When his fingers pried away the barrier and he felt me warm, wet, and ready, he grunted with anticipation and began sucking on my neck.

“Glass elevator,” I breathed, uncertain I could stop any more than he could.

“Between floors,” he said, coming up for air, eyes glazed with desire. “I timed it.”

I threw my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his waist in response. He unzipped his pants, positioned himself, and thrust into me in one motion, making me moan with pleasure as electric tremors sizzled through my body.

He growled my name as he slammed into me. I responded by clenching him to me with my legs, urging him on as my climax built. “More,” I commanded.

He jostled me in his arms, adjusting his stance, and drove in again, this time making my vision explode into stars. My nails clawed into his shoulders through his shirt as he pumped his hips, bringing me to the edge.

“Oh, God, Mason,” I called out as I exploded into quivering spasms. He moaned in response, releasing as well. We collapsed against each other, breathing like we’d swum a mile. If I wasn’t between him and the doors, I wouldn’t have trusted my legs to stand.

“That was an amazing quickie,” he whispered over my ear. “I promise to take my time next time.”

We put ourselves back together, and I was just tugging my ponytail into place when the doors opened at Engineering.

I strode forward, letting my fingers slip slowly from his hand.

When I got to Alyssa, I found her slumped over the keyboard, snoring lightly. It was hard not to feel for her. I did a U-turn and took a walk around the engineering deck. I strolled past the whirring heartbeat of the central machinery, avoiding the ominous blue glow of the dark waters beyond, as usual. Hardly anyone was downstairs anymore. Mrs. Bennet relieved all extraneous personnel after the murder.

“Less people who know means less people who can leak information,” Nicole had explained like she was lecturing kindergartners.

I made it almost all the way around the loop when Candice’s voice commanded my attention. “There you are!” I cringed, thinking it was the computer again for a few seconds. “Mrs. Bennet has called a meeting, and she wants every involved party present.”

“I should keep working,” I said.

“Like you’re doing now?” Her sickly sweet smile gave no hint at frustration, but her fingers tapped out a rhythm against her leg, suggesting otherwise.

Before I could retort, Graham stepped out from Candice’s other side. She wrinkled her nose slightly but kept her smile plastered on. I wondered if he’d made any inappropriate advances toward her. But I couldn’t imagine Candice actually with anyone. She was more like a robot herself.

“Fine,” I said. “When and where?”

“Now and Alyssa’s office,” Graham answered, offering an elbow.

I ignored it and headed back toward Alyssa, wondering if she’d been caught sleeping on the job.

Whatever happened, I missed it, because all three Bennets were already present, along with Dr. Doyle and my father. Jackson was considered non-essential, since he didn’t technically know what happened and didn’t work here, lucky bastard.

“Report.” Mrs. Bennet’s curt demand clashed with her appearance. Her perfect hair was filled with fly-aways, her skin shadowed and dull.

“There’s nothing to report,” Alyssa said. She sounded tired but at least looked wide awake. “We’ve been working on it for days, and the computer meets every attempt to break through with some new impossible wall.” She chewed at the remaining stubs of her fingernails.

When my father put a hand on her shoulder, I turned away. It seemed hard to look at anything lately, my father, the sea, the robot staff.

“Failure is unacceptable.” Mrs. Bennet smoothed her hair, which popped right back out into its disorderly state.

“Then you try it,” I said, followed with a sigh. I was tired of her meaningless commentary. What was she doing about our situation? “You think we aren’t just as scared as everyone else? Working on this makes us all targets. And we’re humans not machines. We can’t run indefinitely under stress.”

“That’s true,” Graham said, stepping between myself and Mrs. Bennet. “Before you respond, think about it. Look at us—do you want the entire population present to break down?”

Heads lifted, taking in each other’s haggard appearances and bowed postures.