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“Emma, it’s fine,” he says, nudging me onto my back. He makes an odd hand gesture, and where his wrist meets his forearm, a hole appears, and a dollop of clear goo pours out of it. “See?”

“Is that lube?”

He shoots me a proud grin as he rubs the lube over my labia, then coats his digits in it before entering me again, this time with two fingers.

“Oh god,” I cry out when he starts to thrust, the heel of his hand bumping against my clit in such a divine rhythm it’s making my vision blur.

I reach between our bodies to reciprocate, but the space where his dick would be is completely flat.

“I haven’t added any parts yet,” he says with a soft chuckle, as if I’m just the cutest thing for forgetting his lack of genitals.

Part of me wants to laugh with him at the absurdity of this situation, but then I think, is it really so absurd I’ve found someone I like to kiss who also happens to be a machine with a suitcase full of snap-on parts? Maybe some would find it odd or would look at me differently because of it, but fuck them and anyone like them.

Abe is thrusting into me with three fingers now, and I’m not about to waste a second of this pleasure. My nails are digging into his skin so deep I’m worried about tearing it, but he seems unbothered as he sucks on my nipple. And when he curls his thick digits into a hook inside me, I go off like a bottle rocket. “Fuuuuck, Abe!” I cry out, my body shaking and covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“Shh,” he whispers against my temple. “Rest, my darling.”

It’s the last thing I remember before sleep takes me.

Chapter 12

Abe

Log entry #4

Day 20 of assignment

Emma is…well, how does one articulate being in the presence of someone reaching mythical levels of quintessence? If I found myself humbled and speechless around her before, now I’m not sure of my ability to function.

I was certain my feelings of attraction were one-sided. Even with the occasional increase in her pulse rate or a lingering gaze on my lips, I didn’t expect anything physical between us. Now that it has happened, I must make it my mission to ensure her safety and happiness at all costs, and in equal measure.

Though, is that possible?

My sole focus was previously on her safety, and that took up the entirety of my day. How do I prioritize the happiness and emotional security I wish to provide while also protecting her from harm? Especially when the pursuit of protecting her is usually what causes us to argue the most.

This is a difficult puzzle, but one I must solve because I’m a goner for Mayor Emma Crane. If I had a heart, a soul, she would own both wholly and completely.

I have no idea how to secure my place at her side once the bomber is caught, but I must find a way. Any form of existence without her is out of the question. There is no existence without her.

Chapter 13

Emma

Acramp in my foot jolts me awake. I groan as I turn onto my side, kicking my leg out to flex and curl my toes until the pain stops. My eyes snap open when a hand wraps around my foot and starts massaging my arch.

“A cramp in your foot while sleeping could mean muscle fatigue or low mineral levels, my darling,” Abe says with a mock-scold as he digs his thumb into my heel. “You could also be dehydrated. Would you like some water?”

I’m immediately overwhelmed by several things, the first being how fucking incredible this foot massage feels. Unfortunately, I can’t let myself enjoy it because Abe just called me “my darling,” and based on the way his suit still hangs off his waist and the rumpled state of his hair, I’m guessing he was lying in bed beside me.

Abe doesn’t sleep, though, so what was he doing while I was? Was he…watching me the whole time? I assume that’s what he does under normal circumstances, but that’s from a chair across the room, for my protection. This is painting a picture of domesticity that’s making me anxious.

“Thank you,” I tell him when the pulsing pain subsides. “I’d love some.”

When he returns with a glass of water, he sits beside me on the bed and watches me with eager eyes as I take each sip. By the fourth, I’m uncomfortable with this level of attention. “Is there something on my face?” I ask, hoping he says, yes, there’s a giant booger dried to your cheek, and I’ve been trying my damnedest not to laugh at it.

Instead, he smiles and takes the half-empty glass from my hand. “Not a thing. You’re just as stunning as before your nap.”

I yawn and stretch my arms over my head. “Nap?” I assumed it was morning. But that wouldn’t make sense since I fell asleep in the early afternoon. “What time is it?”