Page 41 of A Mate For Matrix
From the top of the platform, Matrix stood motionless as he watched Jana throw her arms around Doc Wilson one last time. Her shoulders shook as she hugged the older human tightly, and the doctor—calm, steady, kind—patted her back with a fondness that told Matrix everything he needed to know about their history.
She pulled back, nodding through her tears as Doc gave her a crooked smile and a few last words. Then he turned, walking slowly down the gravel drive toward his battered old truck, fishing pole in one hand and the keys to the clinic in the other. He didn’t look back, but Matrix noticed the way his shoulders were squared, his steps firm with purpose.
“Remarkably calm for a man who just discovered aliens,” K-Nine commented beside him, tail twitching.
Matrix crossed his arms. “And a spaceship,” he added.
“And cybernetic wolf companions.”
Matrix inclined his head in agreement. “Jana was worried he’d be frightened. But… he’s not.”
K-Nine huffed. “I like him. Much nicer than the other human.”
Matrix’s lips twitched. “Agreed.”
Doc had not only accepted what he saw without question—he’d insisted on giving Jana the clinic’s entire remaining inventory of kitten, cat, and dog food, along with a small crate of medications the kittens might need for the next year. “It’s not like I’m taking in any new patients,” he’d said. “I was only keeping this place running because I didn’t want to put you out of a job. Now I can finally go fishing without checking my phone every ten minutes.”
A faint sniff drew Matrix’s attention back to the platform. Jana was wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, a watery smile on her face as she looked up at him.
His impatience to leave—always simmering just below the surface since his and K-Nine’s arrival—flickered and died.
He opened his arms without a word.
She came to him like a wave returning to the sea, flowing into his embrace, burying her face in his chest as another soft sob escaped her. Her fingers curled in his shirt, and he wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from the world.
“I’m sorry,” she sniffled, half-laughing. “I keep crying. I don’t even know why. I mean, I do… but—ugh, it’s ridiculous. Who cries over cat food and vet jobs and stupid old-old houses that aren’t there anymore?”
Matrix murmured something in a language only his people would understand and pressed a kiss to her hair. “You are leaving your life behind. It is not ridiculous. It is brave.”
She tilted her head back to look at him, her eyes glittering but shining with determination. “You’re too good at this,” she whispered. “I’m ready.”
“Thank the Gods,” Matrix muttered under his breath, cupping her cheeks in his hands. Then, silently, he sent the command:
Seal the transport. Prepare for takeoff.
Already on it, K-Nine replied.
He trotted past with a confident swagger, three kittens weaving and nipping at his heels like miniature training drones. “Time to fly.”
Jana looked around at the chaos inside the transport: the stacks of oversized pet food bags, the crates of medicine, and the bags of clothing bulging with new fabric and dreams. “It’s a good thing we’re leaving,” she said dryly. “We’re running out of room.”
Matrix followed her gaze. His eyes paused on a pale pink ribbon of lace peeking out from the top of one bag. His breath hitched. Desire pooled low in his abdomen.
His thoughts returned—uninvited but welcome—to the dressing room, to the soft sighs against his neck and the way her body had arched beneath his hands. He hadn’t forgotten the way she had melted against him.
Or that he had given her pleasure while withholding his own release.
Jana caught the shift in his eyes and giggled, the sound both teasing and electric. She reached down between them, her palm caressing the growing bulge in his pants. “You’re thinking about the dressing room again, aren’t you?”
He let out a low growl of appreciation, his hand slipping to her waist and drawing her flush against him. “Only every five seconds.”
Matrix, K-Nine interjected, voice dry as old circuits. I’ve activated auto-navigation. You have approximately fourteen minutes and twelve seconds before we break Earth orbit and slingshot past the moon’s dark side. Don’t waste them.
Matrix chuckled, already backing Jana toward the bench seat. “We’ll be quick.”
I doubt that, knowing Zion anatomy, K-Nine muttered—but his tail swished happily as he sealed the control deck so the kittens couldn’t escape again.
Jana moaned with need as she sank down onto the narrow bench, her hands tugging Matrix toward her. “This is a tight fit,” she whispered, breathless.
