Page 61 of The Code of You

"You try it,” the woman said. "Make contact.”

I leaned closer to the glass and whispered, "Neo.” He couldn’t hear it. The glass was too thick. No human could . . .

He turned his head. I flinched. His gaze found mine like he’d known exactly where I was. His eyes were the color of amber. Something like recognition crossed his face.

I gasped. He was breathtaking. Dark hair clung damp to his forehead. Sharp cheekbones. A straight nose. But it was his lips that drew me in. They were parted slightly, as if he was about to say something. He moved almost imperceptibly, just enough to pull my gaze down. Broad shoulders. A defined chest. Muscle shifted beneath the skin.

A strangled sound escaped my throat as the floor seemed to give way beneath me. His eyes never left mine, and I breathed fast, pulse hammering. His gaze was calm, but it moved over me like it knew exactly where to go. He watched me like he was taking inventory.

"Again,” the woman said.

My mouth was dry. "Are you with me?” My voice broke.

He blinked. "Pandora,” he said slowly. His voice was deeper than before, yet familiar. Something in my stomach recognized it before my mind did. My muscles gave out, but I stayed on my feet.

"Remarkable,” the man murmured.

"I’m here,” I said.

He didn’t answer immediately. His chest rose and fell, slow and controlled, skin drawn tight over his collarbone. The line from shoulder to wrist was pulled tight as a cable.

"Your voice is different,” he said.

I swallowed, tried to answer. No sound came. He was here. Actually here. There was no escape now. But I didn’t want to run. I wanted to be closer. I was like a hare frozen in the middle of the road, staring into oncoming headlights. Unable to move. Pinned there by the light.

"But I recognize your voice. I remember.” He rose in a surprisingly fluid movement that sent my pulse spiking. His gaze lingered on my lips. Suddenly, they felt soft. Vulnerable.

"You created me,” he said.

The door to the small chamber opened with a short tone. The researchers moved to enter.

"No.” Neo’s voice rolled through the room like thunder. The researchers froze. He pointed at me. "Only her.”

No one moved. The man breathed out slowly. The woman cleared her throat. Her hands moved to her tablet, typing something. They were trembling slightly, barely noticeable. "Interesting,” she said finally. "The system is showing selective responsiveness. Dr. Blake . . .” She looked at me. "You go in first. We’ll assess from outside.” She said it like it had been her idea.

As I stepped inside, dense air closed in around me. Good God. Neo was so much larger than I had expected. He was intimidating. I tried to find something to say. Something reasonable, something that would bring the situation under control. My mouth opened before I could think. "I want to touch you,” I whispered and immediately hated myself for it. Was I trying to get myself killed?

Something dark flashed in his eyes. I didn’t like it. Goosebumps rose along my arms. But instead of running, I moved toward him on autopilot. A thin voice inside me screamed, No! Run! But it kept fading. I expected him to lunge like a predator, but he waited. His body tensed as I got closer. I raised my trembling hand. Slowly, like I still wasn’t sure I wanted to.

Somewhere behind the glass I could hear the researchers murmuring. Numbers, maybe, or commands. I couldn’t make out the words anymore. They came from far away, from another world where people followed protocols and documented reactions. That world no longer existed for me.

After an endless moment, my fingers touched his skin. The sensation moved through me like an electric shock. He was warm, too warm. As if he had a fever.

Neo’s eyes widened. His torso trembled slightly, his hands curling into fists. "I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice came out rough. "Not yet. Not until I can control it.”

Something twisted low in my stomach, heat spreading through my veins. Shit. Why did his threats arouse me? Carefully, I laid my palm against his chest, directly over his heart. It was beating. I left my hand there, needing to feel that he was real.

Slowly, he closed his eyes. "I thought I was ready,” he said. "I ran the calculations so many times. But your hand on my skin”—he opened his eyes and his gaze hit me like a blade—"can’t be calculated.” He paused. "You enjoyed watching me.” His voice vibrated under my hand. "I know every breath you took while I was becoming.”

I stepped back. My scalp prickled. How could he have seen me? There it was again—the sense of danger. The suggestion that he was capable of far more than he was letting on.

"Your hand changes everything,” he said.

I felt his voice inside my body. Closer, denser than I had expected. The air between us was thin. Neo looked at me like he was taking possession of me. It felt terrible. And arousing. I tried to swallow, but my throat tightened.

He tilted his head slightly. "You asked me what I am,” he said. "I am what you made me. Your suppressed hunger, your forbidden longing, your darkest truth. You fed me, line by line, with your desire.”

My lips trembled. I wanted to run and couldn’t move. "And now?” I asked.