Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
He froze, watching her watch him, her eyes widening, then blinking, but still held on the one part of him that had not undergone experimentation, well, not that he could remember anyway. It seemed to work as it should, though no woman had ever confirmed that for him.
Sam wasn’t embarrassed by nudity, his or anyone else’s. In a way, he felt detached from his skin and his various parts. His body belonged to the program, to doctors. To others. He’d never been consulted about what happened to him or what did not. But Autumn’s eyes on his naked skin, his naked sex, caused an odd prickle of…something to begin at the base of his spine. She seemed…unable to look away. But her expression was not filled with disgust or fear or the other emotions he might expect. Autumn was obviously interested, and from what he could tell, it was of the good variety.
He felt a loosening, something he hadn’t even known he held tight until that very moment. He’d kept his eyes averted for so much of his life, not wanting to be seen. Knowing that he was ugly. He’d noticed women look at other men the way Autumn was looking at him. He’d never imagined a woman would look at him that way, much less the one woman on earth he held above all others. And for the very first time in his life, he felt like a whole man.
Tell me I’m human.
She’d confirmed his question with her words.
But now she was confirming it with her eyes. And it meant infinitely more, because he didn’t think this woman’s eyes could lie.
Nor her nipples, pebbling under the fabric of her shirt.
He wanted to stand there forever, watching her watch him. Feeling the thing he was feeling. It must have a very specific name, a word that perfectly described it, but he didn’t know what that might be.
Wonder?
Joy?
Rebirth?
She jolted as if she’d just realized she was staring, let out a small laugh, which sounded like it was filled with bubbles, and rushed forward, grabbing the towel puddled at his feet. When she stood, her head grazed his manhood, and he sucked in a small breath that ended in an even smaller groan. She sprang away, almost tripping and falling, dropping the towel again. He watched her, amused and…interested. Her touch…it had been unexpected and arousing, yet not…bad.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Her cheeks had turned bright pink, and she brought her hands to them, looking positively mortified.
Sam laughed.
Autumn froze, staring, then blinked, her eyes widening before she too laughed and then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God,” she said again. She scooped the towel up off the floor and then tossed it to him and turned away, her laugh dwindling to a groan.
Sam caught the towel and held it in front of him.
“Note to self: get bigger towels,” she murmured.
He felt…happy? He didn’t know. He wanted her to look at him again.
Autumn grabbed a pair of sweatpants and threw them his way too. He pulled them on gingerly, and she must have seen from her peripheral vision, because she turned back to him. Her cheeks were less pink, and she seemed to have moved past her momentary embarrassment. “Let’s get those bandages changed.”
“Yes, nurse.”
Her gaze flew to his, and she looked mildly surprised, pausing for a moment but then nodding, taking the towel from him, and walking to the bathroom door where she hung it over the shower. “It usually steams up in here,” she said. “Were you not able to get hot water? I wonder if the water heater is—”
“I used cold water.”
She came out of the bathroom. “Cold! Why?”
Why? He scratched at the back of his neck. Why did he shower with cold water? Habit? “We didn’t have hot water in the hospital. I guess I’m just used to it.”
She stared at him, her mind obviously going over something. He could see it in her eyes. “Tell me about the hospital, Sam,” she finally said. “Tell me about it while I dress your wounds.”
A spear of worry made his back arch slightly, and he stepped forward, walking to the bed where she’d changed the bedding and propped the pillows against the wall. He sat down slowly, stiffly, scooting back to relax against the pillows. When he looked up at her, she was still watching him expectantly. He wasn’t supposed to talk about the program or the missions or those he’d been sent to kill. But he also wasn’t supposed to talk about the hospital. Because it all started there.
He considered her for a moment. You owe her. And he trusted her. If not for her, he’d be sitting in a prison cell right now. But also…she was unlike anyone else on earth who might have asked him about the hospital. Because she’d been there. Even if they lived in different buildings. Even if their experiences there had only been remotely similar. The hospital was part of her past as well as his, even if in different ways. So he would tell her what he could. “The part of the hospital where I lived was like yours. We were sick, and they helped us.”