some more time, going back and forth, him fishing for answers, her answering seemingly without guile, all the while flirting. In the end, though, she knew nothing of import. “That’s all for now. You may leave.”
“Are you sure you want me to?” Carmen leaned forward, far enough that her breasts practically fell out of her jumpsuit. “It must be lonely out here in space. I noticed a definite lack of women.”
“Because females are disruptive to missions.”
“Not all of us. Some of us would be happy to stay out of the way until we’re needed .” A lick of her lips completed her less-than-subtle invitation.
A moue of distaste twisted his lips. “No thanks. Unlike human males, we control our bodies , and the mission always comes first.”
“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” With a glance meant to be sultry thrown over her shoulder, the brazen female left with swish of her hips.
She’s trouble , that one. With a capital T. While Aramus found it easy to ignore her overtures, he couldn’t deny others might find her and her offer appealing. Not everyone had his iron control when it came to keeping their lust in check.
Cyborgs were a lot of things , strong, fast, enhanced, and lusty. Very lusty, especially once the military programming controlling their every move was eradicated. It seemed good soldiers needed testosterone, lots of it, so while certain parts of them were replaced when they got changed from human to cyborg, the things that gave them their edge, like cock and balls, remained intact. And very functional.
For a logical society, even Aramus couldn’t deny they were a horny bunch. Cybernetic units liked to fuck. A lot. It was why they kept a standing arrangement with a few space brothels. It kept the fighting amongst units down. But there was no whorehouse in this section of space he could travel to, which meant Carmen and her flirtation would probably find takers. He could already predict the trouble that would cause, especially if she didn’t restrict her sexual favors to a single male.
I hope I don’t end up having to smash a few head s together. Then again, he could always use some exercise.
But enough of that. He’d deal with that problem once it cropped up. Back to his current task. Questioning the prisoners. He called the last one in, the petite female he’d rescued and whose hopeful stare had remained with him long after he’d dropped her off.
Why her gaze stuck with him, he couldn’t have said. He’d not found anything particularly extraordinary about her other than her diminutive height. Such shortness seemed defective to him. Then again, he’d noted in the case of at least two of the female cyborgs they’d rescued in the past that those in charge of the cyborg project seemed to prefer experimenting on smaller females.
But the prisoner is not cyborg. She was a human, or so the scans indicated. A human doctor who’d willingly, or not, possibly experimented on his kind and the mutated beings they’d yet to decipher.
He didn’t immediately look up when the door to his private chamber slid open, occupied with glancing over the last radar reports that showed no activity in the area. Then again, as they well knew, their technology wasn’t always reliable when it came to seeing what was truly out there.
“Um, hello?” Her hesitant query brought his gaze up and the sharp retort to quiet until he was ready, died on his lips as he beheld her.
What had happened to the dirty waif he’d rescued? The woman he’d saved stood before him, and he couldn’t help but stare. Her shoulder-length hair brown hair shone in the fluorescent lights, the ends uneven and curling slightly with dampness. Scrubbed clean, her skin exhibited an even creamy tone, except for her cheeks, which pinked as he continued to eyeball her. He couldn’t help himself, especially when he noted how the jumpsuit they’d given her hugged voluptuous curves not meant for the slim outfit, making
“Are you sure you want me to?” Carmen leaned forward, far enough that her breasts practically fell out of her jumpsuit. “It must be lonely out here in space. I noticed a definite lack of women.”
“Because females are disruptive to missions.”
“Not all of us. Some of us would be happy to stay out of the way until we’re needed .” A lick of her lips completed her less-than-subtle invitation.
A moue of distaste twisted his lips. “No thanks. Unlike human males, we control our bodies , and the mission always comes first.”
“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” With a glance meant to be sultry thrown over her shoulder, the brazen female left with swish of her hips.
She’s trouble , that one. With a capital T. While Aramus found it easy to ignore her overtures, he couldn’t deny others might find her and her offer appealing. Not everyone had his iron control when it came to keeping their lust in check.
Cyborgs were a lot of things , strong, fast, enhanced, and lusty. Very lusty, especially once the military programming controlling their every move was eradicated. It seemed good soldiers needed testosterone, lots of it, so while certain parts of them were replaced when they got changed from human to cyborg, the things that gave them their edge, like cock and balls, remained intact. And very functional.
For a logical society, even Aramus couldn’t deny they were a horny bunch. Cybernetic units liked to fuck. A lot. It was why they kept a standing arrangement with a few space brothels. It kept the fighting amongst units down. But there was no whorehouse in this section of space he could travel to, which meant Carmen and her flirtation would probably find takers. He could already predict the trouble that would cause, especially if she didn’t restrict her sexual favors to a single male.
I hope I don’t end up having to smash a few head s together. Then again, he could always use some exercise.
But enough of that. He’d deal with that problem once it cropped up. Back to his current task. Questioning the prisoners. He called the last one in, the petite female he’d rescued and whose hopeful stare had remained with him long after he’d dropped her off.
Why her gaze stuck with him, he couldn’t have said. He’d not found anything particularly extraordinary about her other than her diminutive height. Such shortness seemed defective to him. Then again, he’d noted in the case of at least two of the female cyborgs they’d rescued in the past that those in charge of the cyborg project seemed to prefer experimenting on smaller females.
But the prisoner is not cyborg. She was a human, or so the scans indicated. A human doctor who’d willingly, or not, possibly experimented on his kind and the mutated beings they’d yet to decipher.
He didn’t immediately look up when the door to his private chamber slid open, occupied with glancing over the last radar reports that showed no activity in the area. Then again, as they well knew, their technology wasn’t always reliable when it came to seeing what was truly out there.
“Um, hello?” Her hesitant query brought his gaze up and the sharp retort to quiet until he was ready, died on his lips as he beheld her.
What had happened to the dirty waif he’d rescued? The woman he’d saved stood before him, and he couldn’t help but stare. Her shoulder-length hair brown hair shone in the fluorescent lights, the ends uneven and curling slightly with dampness. Scrubbed clean, her skin exhibited an even creamy tone, except for her cheeks, which pinked as he continued to eyeball her. He couldn’t help himself, especially when he noted how the jumpsuit they’d given her hugged voluptuous curves not meant for the slim outfit, making
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