Freaks Under Fire (6 page)

At some level she comprehended the danger of letting emotions swamp reason and she struggled to regain the ability to think clearly and logically—a futile effort, for no matter how she tried to think logically she didn’t know what to do—what to say, how to act.

Remain passive and let nature take its course?

State clearly to Tyler that she welcomed the next step, so there could be no misunderstandings?

Perhaps it would be more prudent to show him, rather than tell him—Jay was all too aware that at times her manner of speaking and the way she expressed herself could disconcert humans. But what was the best way to show Tyler she truly wanted to be intimate with him?

And, to complicate matters further, her brain chose that moment to replay a previous encounter with Tyler. One where she’d been ninety-five-point-seven percent certain she’d correctly interpreted his emotional and physical state, and had indicated her readiness for intimacy by grasping his hand to lead him to the bedroom… only for Tyler to turn her down, insisting she wasn’t ready.

The encounter unspooled in her mind.

How to put this so Tyler would understand? “I have extensively researched human sexuality and I am fully aware of what’s involved,” she told him. “Further, if you have concerns at my readiness, I am capable of manipulating my body functions to insure my—”

She broke off as she noted him biting his lip. It appeared he was attempting to hide a smile. Likely, this was one of those times when detailed explanations were not appropriate. But she couldn’t help feeling…
unappreciative
of his capacity to be amused by her at this current time. “Perhaps it would be best if I did not explain my capabilities in this instance.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Awesome as it is to know you can get yourself all fired up without any help from me, we guys kinda prefer to think we’re the ones responsible for girls ‘getting ready’. If you know what I mean.”

“Then before I provide you with any further amusement, perhaps you would care to explain what you meant by your previous statement about ‘readiness’.”

The instant the words left her lips she knew she should have made an effort to moderate her tone, but it was too late. Tyler would have to, as Caro would say,
deal
.

Thankfully, he didn’t take offence. In fact, if his pulse rate and relaxed muscles and even breathing were any indicator, he was now calm and unworried. Which was very confusing indeed.

She re-ran the significant portions of the encounter in her mind, analyzing them for nuances she might have misinterpreted. But there was no misinterpreting what she had seen and heard. Tyler had clearly indicated he desired intimacy. She’d made it clear she desired it, too. Yet he’d turned her down.

What was she missing?

One’s first sexual encounter with a new partner was purported to be a significant act that, inevitably, complicated everything. Surely, then, there must be multitudinous things for a young human male to be worried about? Then again, perhaps Tyler’s reticence stemmed from there being another person in the house—his ex-girlfriend, no less. But that was an excellent reason to retreat to the bedroom, which, after all, was not only a room with a
bed
, but a private area where one person could bed another.

Some of her confusion must have shown in her expression for he endeavored to explain. “I mean you’re still treating this like some lab experiment—you’re analyzing everything. When you’re too caught up in the moment to be analytical about it, then you’ll be ready.”

“But if I’m too caught up in the moment to analyze it, how will I recognize my readiness? How will I know I’m… ready?”

“Believe me, you’ll know.”

Believe me you’ll know…. What manner of explanation was that?

A wholly inadequate one, that’s what.

Jay set that problem aside for the moment and turned her mind to other hopefully more fruitful issues. “Ready” was an adjective meaning “Completely prepared or in condition for immediate action or use or progress. Mentally disposed. Made suitable and available for immediate use.” If these definitions were to be believed, then Jay had been “ready” back then, and she was “ready” now. However it was obvious that dictionary definitions did not take into account the opinions and prejudices and life experiences of the young human male she desired to be “ready” for.

A frustrated sigh hissed from her lips. When you were a cyborg who happened to be evolving—also known as “struggling to understand and cope with the human emotions that smacked you upside the head at the most inconvenient moments”—was it too much to ask that your boyfriend clue you in to exactly what “ready” entailed when it came to matters of intimacy? She was rapidly drawing the conclusion that her vast intellectual knowledge of human sexuality was useless in this situation, and if Tyler believed she wasn’t “ready” then there would be little she could do to convince him otherwise.

Well, other than ripping off his clothing, tossing him on the bed, and taking the matter in hand. Which might not be advisable considering her inexperience with the mechanics of such matters. She might scare him off. Or worse, accidentally injure certain important male parts.

No. Best to leave it up to him and hope that he correctly interpreted her responses. But… what if Tyler truly didn’t understand what she wanted right now? What if she had completely misinterpreted his expressions and tone of voice, his actions and body language, and removing her clothing had merely been the most efficient way to reassure himself she was healing adequately?

She needed to tell him exactly what she wanted and—

She didn’t know the right words to use in a situation like this, and her clumsy attempts to encourage him might ruin the mood.

She shook her head. Make a decision Jay!

Right. She needed to
show
him. But how best to do that?

She could kiss him, of course. But they’d kissed many times, and not progressed to intercourse. So….

So, she would obviously need to kiss him differently, in a way that would leave him in no doubt that
now
was the perfect time to take the next step.

Now
, if only she could figure out how to do that.

Before she could access information about the different methods of kissing, Tyler turned her to face him. “Jay?” He cupped her chin, coaxing her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?”

She opened her mouth to inform him exactly how she was feeling, and then shut it again with a snap. She snatched one breath. Two… and endeavored to sort her emotions into something that could be explained with mere words.

Her breath whooshed out in a rush. “Epic fail,” she muttered.

“Huh?”

She reached up with a fingertip to smooth the crinkle between his brows. “Right now I am incapable of thinking logically. All I can think about is you, and what you’re doing to me—what
I
want you to do to me. I don’t know how else to express this Tyler, but I’m
ready
. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

Before he could respond, she rushed on, the words tumbling from her lips. “Please say you understand. And please don’t tell me I’m not ready. I don’t think I could bear for you to tell me that right now.”

The pupils of his eyes dilated. A flush of crimson stained his cheekbones. The muscles in his jaw clenched and then relaxed as he swallowed.

If his throat was as dry as his swallowing indicated, Jay hoped it was for the right reasons—overwhelming desire, for example—and not because he was about to tell her something she didn’t want to hear. Such as she wasn’t “ready”.

Damn, but she was beginning to loathe that word. In fact, she was sorely tempted to make it her mission to have it excised from the English lang—

His mouth captured hers, lips punishingly hard, tongue demanding entrance.

Warmth bloomed in the pit of her belly, expanded, filling the cold spaces that had lodged in her heart since the moment Sixer had ripped her from Tyler’s side. She parted her lips and kissed him back, pouring all her illogical, terrible,
wonderful
want and need and yearning into the kiss.

His fingers speared into her hair, grabbed handfuls and tightened, holding her still as he took what he wanted.

Jay’s brain registered that moving her head while his fists were clamped around hanks of her hair would result in the human equivalent of pain, and possibly the unintentional removal of some hair. She ignored the warning. She laced her hands around Tyler’s waist and shuffled backward, drawing him with her.

Her heart galloped in her chest as he deepened the kiss, and she instinctively responded by matching his desperation, his ferocity. Please let him not realize she was maneuvering them both toward the bed. And if he did, please let him not conclude she was still analyzing, extrapolating, planning her next move, and not fully engaged in the heady thrill of this moment. Please let him only see and recognize the truth—that right now, for Jay there was only this… this… raging need and the lure of the mattress and a vision of Tyler’s body sinking into hers when he claimed her.

In other words, the only planning she was doing right now centered on the fact there was a large, comfortable bed in the room, and she intended to make full use of it to—

The edge of the mattress butted her thighs and she allowed Tyler’s forward momentum to topple her backward until she lay across the bed. He didn’t attempt to prevent himself falling and landing atop her, though he did have the presence of mind to brace himself on his forearms so Jay didn’t bear his full weight. Not that he could have hurt her, given she was far more resilient than any human girl put in a similar situation.

Concerned for his comfort, Jay widened her thighs to accommodate him. She could feel him pressed against her. And despite her practical inexperience she knew that, physically at least, he was as “ready” as she to take this significant next step.

She gazed up at him, willing him to kiss her again, willing him not to ruin this moment by thinking too hard about why this might not be such a good idea.

He gazed back at her, and she could see the question forming on his lips.

Please, no. Now was not the time for questions.

Unexpected tears burned her eyes and she blinked them back. This time the desire to cry was… was… not something she could explain. It wasn’t anything like the pervading sadness and sense of loss she’d felt during the times she’d mourned Father’s death, nor the misery she’d endured throughout the months she’d been separated from Tyler.

“God. Jay. What’s wrong?” He voiced the question in a hoarse, anguished whisper.

“I don’t know.”

“If you don’t want this, please tell me now and we can stop, okay? You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“I
do
want this.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“Because you hesitated!”

She winced at the shrill tone of her voice. She sounded like a spoiled child denied a treat. Deep breath, Jay…. “And I thought you had decided not to proceed because I’m not… I’m not….” She angled her head to focus on the wooden desk, scarred and pitted with age. She couldn’t look at Tyler right now, didn’t want to face the truth in his eyes.

“Because you’re not human?”

“Because I’m a cyborg. Because I’m not a real girl, merely a skillfully constructed facsimile of one. And why would someone like you want to be intimate with a thing like me?” The hurtful words Tyler’s mother had thrown at her burst from her mouth. “What young male in his right mind would want to have intercourse with a
glorified calculator
?”

Tyler slipped his palms beneath her shoulder blades, wrapped his arms about her, and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder. “I’m still majorly pissed that Mom called you that. It was cruel. If you’d held her upside down and shaken her ’til her teeth rattled, no one would have blamed you.”

“They’re only words. It didn’t hurt at the time.”

“But it does now.”

The faded blue wallpaper behind the desk blurred. “Yes. It does now. I don’t know why.”

“Because words are powerful things, Jay. That’s why I’m compelled to write lyrics for the music I compose.”

She absorbed this insight and nodded agreement. Tyler’s lyrics were indeed powerful. And wonderful. And sometimes terrible, too.

He nuzzled her throat. And the sensation of his lips against her skin skated a delicious shiver down her spine. “Why did you stop kissing me, Tyler?”

The tantalizing nuzzling ceased, and he raised his head to meet her gaze. “There was something I wanted to ask you before we went any further. But I was too chicken-shit to come right out with it so I was plucking up the courage. No pun intended.”

“You can ask me anything. You know that.”

He shifted restlessly atop her. Jay braced herself for the worst and adjusted the angle of her head until she was staring at the ceiling.

“You don’t, um, have periods,” he said.

This was no time to be pedantic, so even though he’d uttered a statement rather than phrasing a question, she answered, “Correct.”

“But everything, um—you know, works okay. Right?”

She cocked an eyebrow and lowered her gaze to his face. What she saw there made her rethink the question she’d been about to ask—the semi-humorous-with-the-merest-hint-of-a-challenge one. The one where she pointed out that they had effectively been living together for many months, and not only had Tyler seen her naked, she’d modeled nude for a group of male artists, and surely everything was in the right place and looked as it should or someone would have commented on it by now, so what led him to speculate that things might not “work” as they should? Instead, she said, “Yes. Everything works.”

Another endearing flush painted his cheeks. “Just checking. You know—that we’re, uh, fully compatible in, uh,
that way
. Not that I’d give a shit if we weren’t. Because there’s, uh, plenty of other stuff we can do. And even if we couldn’t have sex because we weren’t physically compatible and, uh,
stuff
, I’d still love you and want to be with you. You know that, right?”