Amy

Waking up in a bed with a strong man wrapped around me wasn’t too bad, but knowing I had allowed myself to sleep like this burned. If I wasn’t more careful, I would fall for Nentres. Last night, this fling had developed into something else, and I knew I should keep Nentres at bay. A woman could grow too comfortable with a man like him, fall for all his stories promising forever, until one day she woke up without him and didn’t know which shoe fit on her right foot and which on the left. Dependence.

Daddy broke after Mom had died. Stepmom had been breaking for a long time, refusing to get out there and forge her own path. Instead, she relied on a man to forge a path for her. While she wasn’t kind to me, she took care of my dad, gave herself completely into their marriage. Then, he got drunk and killed himself.

I bit my lip. Admitting I was bitter about what Dad had done was hard. But, God, he’d left me to fend for myself with a woman who’d practically sold me to a stranger. I scooted closer to Nentres, pressed my back to his front.

He moved my hair away from my neck and pecked my cheek. “Good morning.”

He made this morning good. “Morning.”

Nentres spun me around and lay on top of me, resting on his elbows so he didn’t crush me under his weight.

“I’m hungry,” he said, and ducked under the sheets. He spread my legs and dived in.

“Oooo.”

What was the reason I’d wanted to avoid this? Because I forgot. Nentres knew exactly what to do with me and how to get me to do whatever he wanted. Right now, he wanted me to come. I closed my eyes as his tongue leapt up my slit and flicked my clit while his rough chin rubbed against my entrance. I lifted my hips so I could get myself off with even more friction, and before I could spell “breakfast,” my pussy fluttered, and I came on his tongue.

I lay there staring at the elaborate carvings on the bed’s post, ready to go back to sleep again.

Nentres came out from under the sheets and swiped his tongue over his lips. “You hungry?”

He wanted me to return the favor. “Yes.” I tried to scoot down, but he chuckled. “Real food, I meant. Ah, which reminds me, what are those top three breakfast dishes you like?”

I frowned, then remembered I’d written down the food I liked but not the food I wanted. And I’d completely forgotten about the other list and hoped Nentres had too. “You mean grolaplus, balarana, and spinner?”

“Mm-hm.” He rested his chin between my breasts, blue eyes wide. A beautiful man. I must’ve stared too long, because his dimples showed when he grinned. “See something you want? Maybe it would make your other list, you know, the one you never gave me.”

Ah, so he hadn’t forgotten. I half expected he was joking about the five-things list, but apparently not. “Grolaplus is a granola bar packed with protein for an early morning energy boost. A coffee cup on steroids plus yummy and healthy.”

“Why don’t they call it a granola bar?”

“They don’t like being generic. It’s not a granola bar, it’s way better. That’s their ad, actually.”

“They who?”

I shrugged. “Whoever got it from the Cy and makes it now.”

“Hm. And how many of these Cy food factories exist in the habitats?”

I frowned again. “Not sure if they’re considered Cy food factories. We, I mean the cyborgs, make the food.”

“Would you say most people depend on the Cy supplying food?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s call a horse a horse, not a donkey. The Cy own the habitats and everyone in them.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, but I’ll say dependence is bad.”

“I think it depends on the context,” he said.

“Having to rely on someone or something so completely isn’t a good thing.”

Nentres pondered it while he played with a lock of my hair. He stretched it and released. My lock sprang back up.

“I don’t think it’s too bad when two people depend on each other.”

“Until one of them dies.”

“Good Lord, baby. Where’d that come from?”

I shrugged. “I think about it a lot, I guess.”

“About what?”

“Death, dying, morbid stuff.”

Nentres scrubbed his jaw. “Why?”

“My parents. One day they were here, the next day they weren’t. I depended on them, felt…helpless without them, ended up at Stepmom’s mercy because I couldn’t find my footing. But I won’t make the same mistake again.”

Nentres sat up. “What was your mistake?”

I evaded. “Balarana is a banana-based drink. It comes in powder form, and we usually have it with the…granola bar.”

Nentres walked to the bathroom then came back, saying nothing about me changing the subject. “And that’s enough food for you?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“Sure doesn’t seem convincing. Okay, so what’s in a spinner?”

“That’s eggs.”

“Eggs?”

“Yeah. A spin on the egg. Spinner.” He gave me a blank stare. I continued. “All the ingredients and none of the cruelty. That’s the commercial.”

“Sounds delicious.”

I heard the sarcasm in his voice. “My breakfast favorites have changed, though.”

“Oh yeah? What are they now?”

“Pancakes with jam. I want to have pancakes three times a day.” Mom used to make me pancakes.

Nentres jumped back on the bed, grabbed my hip, and pulled me under him. He pierced me with a stare. “I want to have you three times this morning.”

Between my legs, his dicks wanted inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and locked them. “So have me,” I said, but winced when his fingers reached my entrance. He’d stretched me quite a bit yesterday, and the soreness from his unshaven jaw this morning hadn’t gone away. Three times this morning? I wouldn’t be walking for the next two days.

“You’re sore,” he said. He flipped onto his back, then jerked his head toward the window. “Lord Almighty, what now?”

I sat up. “What?”

Nentres walked to the window. He ran a hand through his hair, then rolled his shoulders. “Got company. Cyborgs with invitations. Fuck my life.”

I snickered. “You’re the one who hired me for the ball. You should know. I have a reputation to uphold for when I open up my own place downtown.”

“What?” Nentres said, though I could easily classify it as a screech. Did he believe I would live here with him forever, barefoot and pregnant? Probably.

“Yeah. I want to open up a shop. Downtown.”

“We had a conversation about the town.” He pointed at the wooden spoon on the nightstand. “I reckon just last night.” He lifted his hand when I opened my mouth to argue my point. “I’ll deal with this later.” He stomped inside the walk-in closet and came out dressed in black jeans and a button-down shirt. If I expected him to greet the guests without me, I was wrong. He bent a knee on the bed and grabbed the back of my head to pull me closer and bite my bottom lip. Flames danced in his eyes, promising wicked times. “Be downstairs in five. I…depend on you to fix this.”

“Fix what?”

“They brought two virgins.”

“And you know a virgin from a mile away?”

He winked. “One of my many gifts.”

Nentres left, and I sat there thinking about our domestic and surreal morning. Yesterday, a dragon had saved me from jail time, fought the cyborg patrol, and nearly destroyed the habitat. Then I found out the dragon was actually a man. I’d slept with a dragon-man. Clearly, the moment my stepmother had brought me into the mansion was the moment the real world had ceased to exist and precisely when I’d begun to lose my mind. Because surely I could not sit here and believe this kind of stuff was actually happening to me.

Cy aliens were one thing. Magic—was it magic?—and elementals were another, though I’d witnessed the evidence of both in a mythical creature with a wingspan of about seventy feet. I had ridden a dragon, nonetheless. But none of those extraordinary things measured up with how I felt this morning. Everything between my legs throbbed, the fire warmed the room, and I’d find pancakes made just for me downstairs.

I hid under the covers.

Nah. Let’s call a horse a horse again. I snuggled under the covers because everything, including the bed that smelled of sex, male, and power, gave me comfort. This morning, when I awoke with Nentres, I’d loved and feared everything it meant.

Precisely the reason why I should leave.

I could fall for this guy. He made me feel like the lady of the manor, fed me well, conversed with me, spanked me, and fucked me how I needed to be fucked. Not sweet, but forceful and in control. Nentres was a keeper guy. The kind my mom would adore and the kind my daddy would ask to go virtual fishing with. The kind of guy who took care of shit so that I wouldn’t have to, and before I knew it, I would be barefoot and pregnant, my shop downtown all but forgotten.

I’d gotten out of bed, dressed, and gone downstairs, where Nentres rounded the Cy car and shook everyone’s hands except for the twin girls’ hands. Those he kissed politely like a good Southern boy.

I fantasized about kicking him in the balls as I marched down the rest of the steps. “I asked for a fling,” I mumbled under my breath. I didn’t want a commitment while he looked for one. It would be completely unfair if I blocked him from other opportunities.

The spirit story from last night? A little farfetched even for a dragon. Mother Nature. Really? Me, a spirit? Nah. I was born Amy Trahan, a cyborg reject. I didn’t think Nentres had lied to me, but I thought that somewhere on his journey into the dragonhood, in addition to Christianity, he’d adopted a new set of beliefs. He’d explained his…shift into a dragon with spirits and Mother Nature. Which was fine by me. I didn’t question his beliefs, but I didn't have to believe every story told to me.

Besides, an older cyborg, presumably the twins’ mom, held up an invitation. I had invited them here for the ball, and they’d come early just as my stepmother had come with Marcy and me. Better be a nice hostess and show Nentres I didn’t intend to marry or commit, but he was welcome to both. I’d told him the truth last night when I’d said I loved our fling, thinking it wasn’t fair to get his hopes up.

I didn’t believe it took. He’d tucked me under him and told me to sleep on it. I didn’t need to sleep on it. I knew I wanted out of the mansion and away from him before I did something stupid, like fall in love with him, then die of heartbreak when he died. My dad had died of heartbreak, not so much from the alcohol-induced car crash. He’d never have started drinking if Mom was still around. It was a vicious cycle.

I raised my chin and straightened my shoulders then descended the steps. Nentres smiled, showing his dimples. A brutally handsome man. I imagined him on pre–Ice Age billboards in his underwear. Surely he stopped traffic.

I grinned wide while the girls giggled and blushed as Nentres led the family into the sitting room. They introduced themselves as the Hendrikses. I knew this family—they owned a plastic recycling business and did quite well. I introduced myself as Amy, last name left out of the equation.

Nentres sat on a couch and glanced my way. I sat on the chair next to the sofa which got me a death stare. I shrugged.

“Have a seat,” I told the parents, and they sat on the sofa facing the couch. The girls flanked Nentres while he glared at me.

I cleared my throat.

Nentres narrowed his eyes, then proclaimed it was hot in here. He hooked one arm behind his sweater and removed it, effectively showing his abs, shoulders, and all the other male hotness that made the girls swoon. I grabbed the decorative wooden pen on the stand next to… oh, a letter opener. I got that instead and fisted it. His eyes dropped to my fist, and he smirked. “This is Amy, my—”

“Event planner.”

His eyes widened. And there he sat, thinking I was a very important spirit, a mate to his dragon, a balance for his fire. Boy, we’d gone from hot to cold and back to inferno in five minutes, one of many reasons I had to get out of this mansion. Nentres would get all my inheritance, and he’d also get another event planner. I gritted my teeth to control my anger as the girls’ hungry gazes roamed all over Nentres. No doubt they wanted him. God, who wouldn’t?

The family made small talk with Nentres, and he gave them all his attention while I stared in a daze, wishing they would leave. The twins were identical and very pretty. As a woman faced with another woman, or a pair of beautiful women, I felt both competitive and admiring.

When the fake pleasantries and plastic factory talk ended, I asked, “Which one is the prospective bride?”

“Both of us,” the girl who had introduced herself as Sandra said.

I blinked. “Do you mean both of you would like to be considered for marriage to him?”

“Oh yes,” Sandy, her twin, said.

“Let me ask you something, Sandy,” I said. “Are you a virgin?”

Her Dad choked on the sweet tea Cindy had brought a while ago.

Sandy nodded. “We are saving ourselves for our husband.”

Nentres chuckled. “One husband, right?”

“We do everything together.”

“Oh my, those were some lovely invitations you sent out,” Nentres said and wagged his eyebrows at me. “Whatcha think of that?”

I think I’ll drop the letter opener right on your crotch. “Oh my.” If any man could satisfy two women at the same time, it would be Nentres. These girls? An easy out for me. So why was I having issues? I wanted Nentres for myself and the thought of anyone touching his glorious body made me crazy. I was in real trouble with him. “I have an idea,” I said. If he thought I’d back off from inviting people to his ball, he had another think coming. “I think you girls would be a perfect fit for my…boss. But seeing as marriage is a lifelong commitment, I firmly believe you should get to know your future husband before making the final decision. So you are welcome to stay at the…mansion until the ball. He’s all yours!” I chugged my sweet tea. “What do you think, Mom?” I asked their mother.

The cyborg smiled, a stretch of lips on her right side. The left side seemed to be altered with some sort of facial attachment, perhaps to stretch her skin, make her appear younger.

Their father agreed, and I stood, extending both hands. “Come on, girls. I’ll show you to the most beautiful room in the whole house.”

They accepted my hands, and I practically dragged them out of the sitting room. In the foyer, just as we headed up the steps, flames exploded out of the round fireplace in the center. We screamed, and I let go of their hands so they could run back to their parents, because the fire slid out of the fireplace and trailed on the floor and over the stairs, effectively blocking my way.

“What are you doing?” Nentres barked and marched to stand in front of me.

“Me?” I poked his chest. “I’m just arranging the ball.”

“I told you what I think about the ball.” He pressed me against the stair rail. “You own me, and I’m helpless to even make you jealous. What do you want? What’s it gonna take for you to accept me, hm? What is it? Because whatever it is, I’ll fucking do it!”

The fire around us died down. It disappeared as if it had never burned.

He’d shouted so loudly, the entire mansion heard him, including the girls and their parents, who immediately strode out and into their car. I sighed in relief when I shouldn’t. I had no claim on him, and I didn’t want any. “I don’t want to marry. Ever. Nobody.”

Nentres tilted his head. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to end up depending on anyone. I’ve seen what that does to people. Dad depended on Mom for pure love and companionship and no other reason. He died. When Dad died, Stepmom scrambled to come up with a solution for me. She depended on him first, and then on me accepting the Cy implants, and now on Marcy. And you’re right about the habitat—the entire fucking thing is dependent on the Cy. What will they do if the Cy decided to up and leave us?” I locked eyes with Nentres. “I want the outlaw life. They’re out there, and they’re free.”

“Outlaw life? That’s crazy, Amy.”

“I don’t care.”

“Outlaw life is hard and demanding, and a dangerous place for a young woman.”

“Oh, okay. I can’t do it because I’m a girl.” I turned to walk up the stairs, but Nentres caught my elbow. “Wait a minute now.” He sat on the first step and patted it. “Come on, sit down.”

I shrugged and sat beside him. We watched the family’s transport lift off and disappear into the sky.

“Then there were two,” I said.

Nentres chuckled. “Crazy world.”

“Were you tempted?” I asked.

“I’ve said my feelings for you loud and clear.”

Living in the habitats made us into machines, even those of us who weren't actually cyborgs. One didn’t need to be a cyborg to become a robot; one simply had to repeat menial tasks daily without joy. Or any emotion, for that matter. I’d long forgotten how to show happiness, anger, or any other human emotion. But it didn’t mean I was heartless. I just had to look out for myself.

“I want to leave.” If I didn’t leave now, I never would. Nentres could become an addiction.