Page 35 of A Mate For Matrix
Matrix nodded absently, still looking like someone had rebooted his central processor.
Jana laughed softly, her embarrassment fading. She opened the door, the warm breeze brushing her face. Grabbing a shopping cart, she gave one last glance over her shoulder.
Matrix sat there, powdered sugar dusted across his shirt, his sexy lips slightly parted in a bemused smile. She smiled brighter, something warm unfurling in her chest.
She hadn’t felt this light—or excited—since she had left to go to college. It was a feeling that something incredible was waiting just beyond the bakery aisle.
With a pep in her step, she wheeled the cart toward the entrance.
Chapter Fifteen
Matrix sat rigidly in the passenger seat of the battered van, his fingers idly brushing powdered sugar from his shirt as his mind churned. He watched her go, his heart aching with the strange, growing sensation that no battle or upgrade had ever prepared him for: the terrifying, thrilling truth that she was his home.
She had touched his cheek.
She had looked him in the eye, kissed him softly, and called him beautiful.
Not strong. Not useful. Not efficient. Not… salvageable.
Beautiful.
He stared out the windshield, barely seeing the fluttering red-and-white flags above the entrance to Mayo’s Market & More. Her words echoed in his head with a strange, seismic effect—like tectonic plates shifting in his chest.
Since his injuries, since the enhancements… he had never been called that. Not once.
The last woman to see him before the surgeries—Altura—had recoiled the moment the healing ports were removed. Not because of the scars. No, Altura was too well-trained for that. She had smiled, even touched his hand. But her eyes… her eyes had said everything.
Faulty. Altered. No longer a true Zion warrior.
The daughter of one of the planetary governors, Altura had agreed to their joining as a strategic alliance. He had once thought her elegant. Wise. Perhaps she would have grown to care for him.
But after the attack on Elgaron-9 and the subsequent months in a surgical tank, she had cooled.
Become distant.
Then she’d petitioned the Zion Command to have the contract voided—citing ‘genetic compromise’ because of unregulated cybernetic integration.
He hadn’t fought it.
He had been too numb. Too focused on mastering the new systems they’d fused to his body. Too determined not to die a second time.
Now, he was grateful.
Altura had never made his heart race and his palms sweat. She could never have felt the same consuming passion that Jana directed towards him. He also knew he would never have experienced the deep, soul-stirring physical satisfaction he found with Jana.
Jana didn’t care about his implants or protocols. She didn’t see him as inferior. The memory and scent of him taking Jana against the dressing room wall caused him to shift in his seat. His body happily reminded him that he had not yet found release.
The soft creak of the van’s suspension rocked him gently, grounding him. He couldn’t see her because of the signs in the windows and the design of the store. He impatiently tapped his fingers on his knee.
“K-Nine, is everything still secure?” he asked, needing a distraction.
“Yes. The kittens are asleep. What is your ETA?”
“Jana is picking up the last items she needs. I estimate less than an hour,” he replied.
“What is wrong? I detect stress in your voice,” K-Nine said.
He sighed. “I don’t like her being out of my sight,” he confessed.
