Being Green (Cyborg Sizzle Book 5) (3 page)

“Bond with your female and then bring her back to the ship,” Barrel instructed. “Once you’ve retrieved her, we’ll return to cyborg-controlled space.”

Cyborg-controlled space would be the safest location for Shelby but Green doubted his soil-loving botanist would agree to living permanently off planet.

He’d make that decision in the future. He’d focus now on securing his female and saving his plant. “File our flight plan with the cyborg council and set a course for Earth Minor.”

Chapter Two

Twenty-two planet rotations later, Shelby thumped a stubborn clump of soil with her hoe, breaking it into pieces. Earth Minor’s solitary sun shone brightly, the rays heating her bare shoulders. Her muscles ached. Her clothing, a flower-image-covered sundress patterned after the garments worn by her ancestors, was moist with perspiration and covered with dirt.

She was a mess, but the ancient Earth plants, bees and butterflies, were unable to comment and there were no other beings on the planet to see her. Solar cycles ago, when she first arrived, she had shared the space with the founder, an eccentric elderly botanist determined to replicate the ecosystem of his favorite place and era. Once he had transferred his duties to her, he had voyaged into the forest and had never returned. She suspected he was dead.

There were moments when she craved company. Recently, those instances followed her verbal exchanges with a certain stubborn cyborg.

Which meant she’d been experiencing them every sunrise since that first surprise hail. Green used any feeble excuse to contact her, hailing her at least once every planet rotation, and she answered, unable to resist those stolen opportunities to see his face, hear his voice.

It was torture, a pain she embraced so she wouldn’t ever forget. Her gaze settled on the rosebushes surrounding her domicile. Hope involved risk. She’d once planned for the future and lost everything, every being she loved.

She couldn’t do that again. The loss would kill her.

Living in the kinder, gentler past, a time when humans hadn’t heard of Mantidae, hadn’t ventured into far space, had thought themselves alone in the universe, was less perilous. None of those beings had lost their families or their friends to an alien attack.

And Shelby couldn’t rejoin the modern world, even if she wanted to. She had made a commitment to her predecessor. Some being needed to tend to the botanic time capsule, to ensure the ancient plants survived for future generations.

No being, especially not a cyborg like Green, would join her in her self-imposed isolation and that was okay. She was happier on her own. Shelby scowled as she dug into the ground.

Yes, she might finger herself after every conversation with him, stroking her pussy while visualizing his broad face, energy-infused blue eyes, clipped short black hair, gray skin, his model number inked under his right eye.

And, when she came, she might envision Green’s broad shoulders, narrow hips, bulging biceps, imagining all of the parts she hadn’t yet seen.

But that meant nothing. She moved a wiggling worm out of the path of her hoe. A female was entitled to her fantasies.

Shelby attacked the soil with more vigor, venting her sexual frustrations on the ground. Sweat dripped down her spine, between her ass cheeks. Her skirt fluttered around her legs.

A rumble filled her ears. She ignored it, concentrating on her task.

It grew louder and louder.

Shelby looked up in time to see a single being shuttlecraft fly past, its smooth silver underbelly skimming dangerously close to the top of the fir trees. Shit. It looked like it was going to land.

The drone of the engine slowed.

Shit. Shit. Shit. It was landing.

Her tiny planet was being invaded.

She ran toward her one story domicile. Her heart pounded. Her boots sank in the tilled ground. Dirt splattered against her bare calves.

Shelby knew how invasions worked. She’d researched the Mantidae attack on her home planet, learning the signs the settlement’s council had missed, the stages her loved ones had encountered.

This first being was a scout. If luck smiled on her, she might defeat him. When the scout didn’t report back, the aggressors would send a large heavily armed second wave.

She wouldn’t survive that. Shelby pushed through her domicile’s front door. But she might have time to send the rarest seeds and bulbs into underground storage.

She glanced around the crowded main chamber. Where had she left her gun? She hated the weapon, disliked having it in her domicile, a reminder that violence, loss, could breach her sanctuary.

The gun had been inherited from her predecessor. He’d boasted of spending multiple planet rotations increasing its capabilities, until, he claimed, it could blast a hole through the hull of a battle station.

The though of blasting anything or anyone made her shudder. But it might be necessary.

Shelby surveyed the space. She hadn’t positioned the weapon near the door, not wanting to arm the invaders, yet she’d left it close enough for her to easily reach. Shelby shifted containers of seedlings to the side, found the gun stuck in a larger container.

She wiped off the dirt. Could she use it on a living being? She’d have to or—

Metal rang against wood behind her.

She spun around.

“You’re even more beautiful—”

She pressed the trigger before the deep sexy voice registered. The kick knocked her backward, onto her ass. The projectile did the same to Green, slamming him against the far wall, pulling an animalistic sound of pain from his throat.

“Oh, fuck.” Shelby dropped the gun and jumped to her feet, paying no attention to her screaming muscles. “Green.” She ran to him.

“Frag.” He clutched his stomach. Blood streamed over his fingers, covering his gray skin. “Barrel was right. I should have let you know I was coming.” His smile was tight.

“This is no time for jokes.” She moved his hands and the floor shifted under her. There was a huge hole in his black battle armor. “Green.” She swayed. Blood gushed from the wound, the strong pulse of crimson scenting the air.

“Sit, female.” He pushed downward on her hips. “Before you collapse.”

She lowered with a thump, her ass smacking against his armor-clad thighs. “I shot you.” She stared at his stomach with horror. “I thought you were an invader. I never would have pressed the trigger if I’d known it was you.”

“That’s good to know.” The strain on his oh-so-masculine face belied his light tone. “Could you help me remove my body armor?”

“Yes, of course.” She fumbled with the task, her fingers clumsy with the shock.

Finally, with his help, she retracted the armor, pulled it over his head, tossed it to the side. “Oh, it’s bad.” Another wave of wooziness swept over her. “Really bad.” Medicine wasn’t her area of expertise but she knew no human could survive the damage she’d caused.

Green wasn’t human. After he first contacted her, she, for some inexplicable reason, had found herself spending every free moment researching cyborgs. They healed quickly, surviving wounds that would be fatal for her. “Can you recover from this?”

“I’ll live.” He grimaced.

“You’re in pain and I have no suppressors.” She’d run out two solar cycles ago. “Is there anything I can do?”

He lifted his head and met her gaze, his eyes bright blue, sizzling with energy, with heat. “Rage, my friend, has a theory that the more nanocybotics a cyborg gives to his female, the more he produces.”

Nanocybotics helped him to heal quickly. She was female. “How do you give them to me?” Receiving them scared her but not as much as the possibility of extending his pain.

“Nanocybotics are concentrated in my saliva and in my cum.”

Shelby had been so concerned about his wound, she hadn’t noticed his nude state. She glanced downward and blinked. He was huge, his cock long and thick and erect, his base hairless. “You’re severely injured and you want to fuck?”

If that was such a bad idea, why was her pussy wet? Why did she crave him, desire his touch?

His eyes glowed. “I’d be satisfied, for now, with a kiss.”

A kiss, she might be able to give him. She nibbled on her bottom lip. He wasn’t a complete stranger. They’d communicated remotely. And she
had
injured him.

“You’re certain kissing will help you heal?” The science to justify that wasn’t completely implausible. He’d produce nanocybotics to replace the ones he lost. An efficient orgasm would produce more to compensate for future losses.

“I’m not certain of anything at the moment, my Shelby.”

Because he was weak from blood loss, from the wound she’d inflicted upon him. “I’ll do this.” She placed her palms on his pecs and he shuddered, his muscles rippling. His skin was warm, human. She’d expected him to be cool, like metal. “But I’m kissing you to ease your pain, not for any other reason.”

“Noted.” Green’s smile was wobbly.

She had to help him. Shelby leaned forward, moving closer and closer to him until his mouth was a lick away from hers. He didn’t move, watching her, his eyelids partially lowered, a dreamy expression on his rugged face. His breath wafted over her cheeks, warming her.

She was in control. That gave her confidence. Shelby brushed her lips against his, her touch light. Green opened to her and she slipped her tongue between his teeth.

His nanocybotics enveloped her, fizzing and popping against her flesh. Her breath hitched and her pussy throbbed with need. She’d never experienced anything like it. It was as though a thousand mouths sucked and released her.

He was addictive and she needed more of him, more of his taste—a mixture of metal and man. She delved deeper. Their tongues entwined and his heart beat faster under her palm, his reaction exciting her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

She slid her hands upward, following the vein pulsing in his neck, the strength of his jawline, and cupped his cheeks, holding him.

Dampness permeated her chest covering. “Your wound—”

“Requires more healing.” Green grasped her hips and pulled her forward. The motion hiked up her skirt, revealing her bare pussy. He pressed that intimate flesh against his hard cock, and they both shuddered.

No longer content to be a passive partner, he fastened his lips over hers, cupped the back of her head, and invaded her mouth, thrusting his tongue inside her. Stars. He was fierce, forcing her to take him, to accommodate his erotic assault. His nanocybotics surged down her throat and the tingles spread across her chest, to her womb, her fingers, her toes. She trembled, her form flooded with sensation, with arousal.

Their kiss was changing her, she realized. Her body was adapting to his, recognizing him as being hers. His musky scent filled her nostrils. His flavor coated her mouth. His fingers splayed over her hips. They were aligning, becoming one.

When he left, she would hurt, but, in this moment, Shelby didn’t care. She rocked against him, savoring his rigid length, the pressure against her clit, and he groaned, the sound muffled by their lips. His chest rose and fell, rubbing against her breasts. Her taut nipples begged for his hands, his mouth.

Green didn’t touch her curves, didn’t break their liplock. She huffed with frustration, wiggled in his lap, arching her back, offering herself to him.

His eyes glowed. “You’re beautiful.” He skimmed his knuckles over her cheek. “And mine. Forever.”

Forever. With that word, she plummeted back to reality.

“I’m not yours.” Shelby pulled away from him. For several delicious moments, she’d forgotten the dangers, the futility of building connections, a future that could be taken from her. “We were kissing to heal you. That’s the only reason.”

“My Shelby--”

“Doctor Shelby Cooper,” she corrected, examining his stomach. The bleeding had stopped. She reached for a cleaning cloth, dabbed it around his wound.

She was unable to find the edge of the wound. Skin, a shade paler than the rest of him, completely sealed the hole in his stomach. Shelby drifted her fingers over the spot, feeling only smoothness.

“You’re the same as you were before I shot you,” she mused. “You won’t ever change.” He was as stuck in the past as she was.

“My body won’t change.” Green covered her hands with his. “Yours won’t either, as long as I share my nanocybotics with you. But
I’ve
changed. I’ll always remember that you shot me, that you were willing to kill to defend the plants and planet you love.” His lips twitched. “I won’t sneak up on you in the future.”

“There will be no future for us.” Dreaming of more planet rotations with him was destined to cause her pain. “Once I cure your plant, you’re leaving.” She stood, her body protesting the increased distance between them.

“
We’re
leaving.” He got to his feet and closed the gap, unabashedly naked and erect.

“I can’t leave. This is my home, and caring for the plants on this planet is my duty.” That was why a relationship between them wouldn’t work. He wouldn’t live in the past as she did. He’d leave, return to his cyborg brethren.

“My Shelby—”

“You wanted me to cure Windy.” She examined the plant set on a wooden horizontal support, escaping into the comforting safety of her work. The metal container was beautifully etched with images of vegetation and fantastical flowers. “Did you craft this?”

“I did.” Green lifted his square chin. “It took me many solar cycles to scavenge for the materials but I finally found them, pieced them together, crafted the container.”

This rough tough warrior had lovingly made the container for his plant. “I see you added drainage holes and a tray.” The tray was just as ornately etched.