Power (Dark Anomaly #2) - Marina Simcoe Page 0,66

pad.

“It’s made from the same material that’s currently used to make mattresses on Earth. It goes from single to double size and even bigger. Which is much more practical than the old way of manufacturing and storing all possible sizes of mattresses,” I chatted, grateful for the distraction.

There was a certain tension in the air, the awkwardness I hadn’t experienced in Wyck’s presence lately, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.

We put the sheets on the mattress on the floor then spread the blankets we had brought with us. At the end, it turned out to be a perfect bed, much more comfortable than anything I’d been sleeping on since the day I got to the Dark Anomaly.

A corner of the top blanket happened to be bent over, and we both reached for it to straightened it out. Our hands touched. A spark of sensation, hot and intense like lightning, shot up my arm. I jerked my hand away quickly, darting my gaze to Wyck’s face.

He was crouching next to me, his thigh touching mine. His expression mirrored my confusion.

We’d touched many times before. We’d kissed. Never before, however, had we been in a place that felt this comfortable for both of us. With no immediate danger to worry about, my attraction to him bloomed brighter. The hunger in his eyes burned hotter than ever.

Since he’d lost his vest, Wyck had been wearing nothing but the gun holster on his torso. The wide, ornately embossed leather belt crossed his massive chest. I balled my hand into a fist to stop myself from reaching out to touch it.

“I better go have that shower,” I mumbled.

Quickly rising to my feet, I escaped to the bathroom.

I slid the door panel closed behind me and yanked the closure of my suit down. Usually barely noticeable, the material of the suit seemed extremely irritating right now, too hot and confining. I couldn’t wait to get rid of it, peeling it off quickly.

Naked, I drew in a long breath. The air in the room seemed to be hot and heavy, too. It stroked along my bare arms and breasts like a caress, making my skin tingle. Leaning over the shower control panel on the wall, I started to program the water temperature and flow. Judging by my body’s reaction, I needed a cool shower tonight, especially if I wanted to share a bed with Wyck—an ice-cold shower.

Suddenly, the bathroom door slid open.

“You forgot the soap.” Wyck stood in the doorway.

His gaze roamed greedily over my naked body. He squeezed his fists so hard, the bar of soap cracked in his hand. Yet he wouldn’t cross the threshold.

My heart thundered in my chest but not from fear, for once. With Wyck, I didn’t need to be afraid. The streams of warm water rushed down from the ceiling, caressing my skin. I wished it was Wyck’s rough hands instead.

“Bring it here,” I said, stepping back to make space for him.

The shower area was just enough for one person. As Wyck entered the bathroom, his huge body nearly filled the entire room.

Pressing the buttons on the control screen, I made the toilet slide into the floor. The sink folded into the wall, and the streams of water rushed from the openings along the entire surface of the ceiling. The whole bathroom had now become one much larger shower with smooth, metallic walls and a fine mesh over the floor.

Water sluiced over Wyck, drenching the material of his pants and running into his boots. His pronounced eyebrow ridges kept the water out of his eyes, diverting it around his face. Wyck wiped it off with his forearm.

“Soap?” He handed me the bar.

I placed the soap on top of a dispenser nearby and took his hand in mine. There was no blood on his knuckles this time, but the size of his hand and the fierce hardness of the ridges on it left no doubt, this hand could be and had been used as a weapon.

“Do you still believe that errocks are born to fight? Do you think you’re inherently brutal by nature?” I lifted my gaze to his. “Do you want to hurt me, Wyck?”

He stepped to me, leaving his hand in mine. There was but a hair-breadth of space between us, yet he wouldn’t close it, ravaging me with his gaze alone.

“I want to fuck you hard,” he growled. “I want to see your hair tangle and your skin drip with sweat. I want to hear you

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