that word was used as a way to remind him he was a thing created instead of a person. I absolutely hated how he used that word and others. And I hated how that choice had been taken from him at birth.
“And before you ask, like the Luxen, the Origins are not carriers, nor are we susceptible to diseases that can be transmitted,” he explained. I had been wondering how to ask that question. “Are you surprised? About the baby thing?”
I gave a little shake of my head. “A little. It was just something Grayson said.”
“I’ve got to ask why you’re naked thinking about something Grayson said. Not that I’m judging. He’s very attractive, and a lot of people find that standoffish ‘I’ve been deeply wounded so I lash out at everyone’ routine to be very alluring.”
I rolled my eyes, not dignifying any of that with a denial. “He said I probably had enough alien DNA in me to make things compatible enough for you and me to make a currently really bad life choice.”
“He may be right for other Origins, but he wouldn’t know my current baby-making-abilities status. The most recent Origins were also sterile. After all, what could be more distracting than having a child?” He pushed off the door, lowering his arms as he took a step forward. He stopped by the vanity. “Does that bother you?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that, because kids were something that hadn’t even begun to be something I’d thought about. So, I decided to be honest. “I don’t know, because I don’t even know if I want a kid many, many years from now.” I thought of Kat’s screams and shuddered. “I don’t know if I’d ever want to do the whole birthing thing. Babies sort of scare me.”
“What about ten years from now? Twenty? When we’re not dealing with the Daedalus any longer and it’s just us raising a herd of llamas?”
The fact that Luc was thinking that far in advance—thinking about us that far in advance—caused my heart to skip happily in my chest. Not only did he think there was a future for us, there was potentially a future for us that didn’t involve the Daedalus or being stuck in the middle of a fight for world domination—
Wait.
“Raising a herd of llamas?” I repeated.
He shrugged. “Always thought it would be cool to have a herd of llamas.”
I grinned. “I like llamas.”
“I know.”
Picturing us with a small house and a herd of llamas in our backyard made me laugh. It was the most ridiculous future.
The best future.
“We could always adopt one day,” I said. “If that’s what we wanted.”
“We could.” His head tilted. “Is the water still warm?”
I nodded.
“Do you still want me—”
“Always,” I said, not needing to hear anything more.
That rare, full smile of his appeared, and I melted like snow on the first warm winter day. And then he was stripping off the rest of his clothing.
I should look away. Wasn’t that the polite thing to do? But I couldn’t. And I didn’t think Luc wanted me to, either.
Even with just the light of the candles, I got an eyeful of everything. It felt like my skin had been heated with the Source, just like the water. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him, but it felt like it, because there was a certain awareness that throbbed between us, full of sharp anticipation and bone-deep yearning.
I started to scoot forward, but Luc’s hand on my cheek stilled me. He tilted my head back as he knelt on the outside of the tub, kissing me.
“Let me wash your hair first,” he said when he lifted his head.
“You don’t have to.” My blood trilled. “It was just a ploy.”
“To get me naked?”
Grinning, I nodded. “It worked.”
“It did.” The pitcher ended up in his hand. “But I want to do this. It’ll give me time.”
“For what?” I watched him from my curled position, still keeping myself from being exposed. It seemed fairer now since the wall of the tub hid all of Luc’s interesting bits.
“So I don’t end up embarrassing myself.”
It took me a moment to realize what he meant, and when I did, all I could whisper was a soft Oh. Despite all of Luc’s experience and his playfulness, this could be his first time.
It could be our first time.
Luc was quiet as he set about washing my hair, taking his time. I’d never had anyone wash my hair. Or at least I hadn’t remembered it, and