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She loved the arid, hostile-to-life planet and the Cancris.
And she was protective and proud of them.
Drift gazed down at his sleeping human. She was curled up on his lap at the moment, restoring her energy levels.
He had inserted a cable into his right wrist socket. That ensured he remained at full functionality also. He couldn’t project what the upcoming planet rotation would hold.
As he held his female, he rubbed her back, savoring that skin-on-skin contact. He’d already cleaned her from the top of her head to the tips of her cute little toes.
The touching he was doing now was pure pleasure. He loved the feel of her. She was strong. Her muscles were firm. Yet her skin was delectably soft.
It was also now 2.3563 percent lighter in color. The orange pigment was fading.
Her simulated fingernails remained on her fingers. The adhesive used was impressively secure.
Her skull, intriguingly, was shadowed with dark-brown fuzz.
Holding her was a gift, and he wished he could do that forever. But the sun would soon rise. He had to contact his captain. And his female had promised she would meet with her friend.
Drift secured his female to his chest and stood.
She murmured words even he, with his enhanced auditory system, couldn’t decipher. Her eyes remained closed.
He carefully transferred her to a nearby chair.
His female didn’t awaken.
He quickly retrieved his body armor and donned it. The pieces had been scattered across the bridge. His lips lifted. That mess was the result of his eagerness to breed with his female.
That yearning had returned. The bulge in his garments was pronounced.
But he pushed his desire to the back of his processors, and he ran at cyborg speed to retrieve a flight suit for his female.
Repercussion had been right to pack them.
Drift would tell the male that later. He wanted to keep his female’s existence to himself at the moment. Their bond was too new, too fragile to share.
And he projected his wary human wouldn’t want him to chatter about her.
He and his brethren hadn’t earned her full trust.
Not yet.
* * *
His female was still sleeping when he returned.
Drift gazed down at her. She was so fraggin’ beautiful. It felt like a malfunction to cover up her gentle curves, lean muscles, and glowing skin with a garment.
But warriors with human genetic matches had noted in the databases that 89.1447 percent of her kind were shy about nudity. He projected his careful female wasn’t the exception to that spec.
He slipped the flight suit over her bare toes. The fabric was the same shade of brown as her natural hair. And it was soft yet durable. His female might like that.
His fingers skimmed the arch of her feet.
His female’s eyes flew open. She flung out her right arm.
He caught her clenched fist in one of his palms. “It’s me. You’re safe.”
