Specimen(24)
“When did I get here?”
“You’ve been at the facility since May of last year,” Riley says. “I know all the specimens were gathered at the military base just outside of Milton several weeks before transformation began. I’m not sure how long you might have been there.”
I’d missed a birthday, too.
“How old am I?”
“Twenty-four.”
Well, that’s news, I suppose.
Her tone is still sterile and cold. Usually when we talk, it sounds more conversational and friendly. She has looked directly at me four times since she came in the room this morning. The only difference between today and yesterday was that I had my cock inside of her last night.
The thought gives me a hard-on.
I have to assume she was upset that it had happened. She’d pushed me away so many times, I had been shocked when she let me take her. She’d wanted it though—I could smell it on her. I felt her body tighten around my cock as she came. She didn’t fake that.
Maybe there’s another reason.
“Are you married?” I ask quietly.
“No.”
I almost sigh audibly with relief.
“Do you live with someone?”
“I have a roommate.”
“Is it your boyfriend?”
She finally places the tablet down and looks at me briefly. She sighs before continuing.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she tells me before she turns her gaze back to her work. “The work I do here doesn’t leave a lot of room for a social life. My roommate’s name is Sharon, and she works in the tech division.”
The news pleases me, but it doesn’t explain why she’s agitated. Perhaps there’s something in the past—a relationship gone bad. Did I remind her of someone else?
“Who was your last boyfriend?”
“Sten, why are you asking me all this?”
“You weren’t a virgin,” I say with a shrug, trying to seem like my questions are purely for information and not because the thought of another man being inside of her makes me want to destroy the room. “You know who you last had sex with. I have no idea if I had a girlfriend or not.”
This much, at least, is true. I’ve had no dreams of a female other than my sister, and I don’t even have a name for her other than “Greenbean.”
“I’m not comfortable with this conversation.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.” Her tone tells me it’s not.
I decide to try another line of questioning.
“Where’s your house?”
“I live in an apartment,” Riley says. “It’s about three miles from here.”
“What do you do when you go home?”
“I have dinner, do laundry, and sleep.”
“That’s it?”
“Sometimes I watch a movie.” She shrugs. She continues to stare at the tablet, avoiding my gaze.
“Do you have pictures of your father at your apartment?”
She tenses and narrows her eyes at the screen. Mashing her lips together, she ignores my question entirely. She’s told me a little about her father and how he died. I know she was close to him and that his death is part of the reason she is here today.
If I could kill the man who killed her father—that would make everything I’ve been through worthwhile.
“Do you have siblings?”
“Sten, will you stop with the questions already?”
I sit up on the edge of the bed, frustrated. The last thing I want is for her to be angry with me. I feel myself tense all over, and I know the only relief I will find is in touching her. If she’s angry, she isn’t going to let me do that.
She comes over and sits on the rolling chair to take my temperature. As she places the thermometer on my finger, I wrap my hand around her wrist. She stills for a moment, and I think she’s going to pull away or tell me not to touch her, but she says nothing. She continues her work as I run my hand up her arm.
I can’t stand it anymore.
“Please don’t be angry with me,” I whisper.
“Oh, Sten.” Riley stands, takes three steps away, and stops suddenly. She rubs her eyes with her fingers and then looks back at me. “I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with myself. Last night…well, it shouldn’t have happened.”
My organs feel like they’re dropping into my lower gut. She hadn’t wanted it. It was the most incredible sensation I ever recall experiencing, and she wishes it hadn’t happened.
She felt it too. I know she did.
“I wanted it.” I push off the bed and walk to her, taking her hands in mine. “I need you, Riley. You’re all I think about.”
“I know you need it,” she says. “With the upgrade of your chemical treatments, I knew the side effects would be…well, impossible for you to control if you didn’t have a sexual outlet. That’s why I brought in the prostitutes.”