The hand on his chest moved, languidly stroking his skin as her body pressed tighter against his. She seemed to stretch. Something wasn’t right but he just couldn’t figure out what. Her fingers dug into his muscles a tiny bit, a soft sigh sounded, and hair tickled the top of his shoulder when she adjusted next to him.

“You made it.”

The female’s voice was soft, unknown, and if he could have, he’d have jerked away from her.

She had slept curled against his side with her hand on his chest. Where is 46? Who is this female? Why has she been put in my living space?

Gentle fingers slid up his chest to his neck, pressed along his artery and paused. The pressure eased and the mattress under them shifted just slightly as she changed position. Metal scraped, her heat withdrew from his side and a draft of chilly air took her place. A blanket settled down and she pressed them tightly against his skin. A light caress breezed over his cheek.

“Your pulse is steady. I was so worried you wouldn’t do well off the machines but you seem to be doing fine. Now I need to give you a sponge bath. I’ll change your bag before I reinsert the feeding tube. I’m sorry but I need to do it until you’re well enough to eat on your own. I should have reestablished it last night but I figured you had suffered enough trauma being moved.”

Confusion filled him and nothing she said made sense. He struggled to move, to open his eyes, but was unable to do so.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to take a quick shower while the coffeemaker does its magic.”

The caress on his cheek stopped and he felt a slight tug on his hair as she seemed to manipulate it. “I’m a bear without coffee. That’s a secret.

Most people don’t want to hear that I’m addicted to caffeine but it’s the only way I survived my residency. They really put you through the wringer.” The blanket moved by his chin, tucked tighter, and she petted his chest through the layers of covering. “I’ll hurry. I’m just in the other room, okay? The only bathroom is down here. I’ll even leave the door open. I know you aren’t going to wake that quickly but I can always hope.”

She stopped touching him but he heard movement not too far away. Water ran. A package rustled. He wished he had a keener sense of smell but his nose didn’t seem to work right. Silence followed until louder water came on, something squeaked and then clicked. The water noise became slightly muffled.

880 struggled to regain use of his body. He was alone, according to the unknown female, and her words made enough sense that he worried she was a technician. Why would one of them sleep at my side? What game are they playing? Is it another of their twisted games to see how I react? He could feel the weight of something on his wrists and ankles, more aware of his body as time passed. They’d restrained him flat by his limbs.

He needed to gain control fast.

The water stopped too soon. He hadn’t made headway with his body, but he’d moved his tongue. It was sluggish but he’d been able to feel the roof of his mouth. One pinky finger twitched.

The drug was slowly wearing off. His body would shake the effects of it but it would take time, something he wasn’t sure he had to spare.

She said she wanted to hook him to a machine.

The squeak sounded again and she sighed softly while rustling around.

“Okay,” she called out. “I’m dressed and now about to pour myself a cup of coffee. I’m going to heat up some water too and we’ll get you clean.”

She paused. “Shit. I just realized I’m going to have to strip you down. I’m really sorry about that but it needs to be done. No one wants to be dirty. I’ll be more embarrassed than you. Trust me on that. It’s the one thing that still kind of gets to me. I hated clinic hours when I’d have to look at men’s penises. Let me tell you that it wasn’t always pretty.” She snorted. “Of course that time in the emergency room should have earned me an Emmy for acting as though it was normal for a guy to come in with his dick stuck inside a pipe.”

He listened, unable to do anything else, as she moved around. Her talk of dicks stunned him slightly. She owned a pleasant voice, though, that didn’t grate on his nerves.

“He came up with the lamest excuse ever, as though anyone would believe it accidentally happened. He didn’t trip naked and land on the damn thing. He was a pervert—one with his penis really wedged inside that pipe.” She laughed. “He should have at least used lube.” She came closer.

“You should have heard him scream when I had to, well, you don’t want to know where I had to insert a needle. You’d hate hearing about that procedure. I’m the one who had to do it and I still cringe.”

She had just admitted to torturing a male. He tried to growl to warn her away from him as she approached but his throat remained silent. Rage gripped him as he worried that she planned to hurt him too.

“Okay. We’ll do this together.” She was very near. “It’s warmer now that the sun is up so I don’t think you’ll catch a chill. I’d wait a few more hours but I need to reestablish that feeding tube. You’ve lost enough weight.” The covers were pulled down his torso to the beginning of his hips.

Water dripped on him before a warm cloth touched his face. Her ministrations were gentle as she rubbed every inch until she paused at his throat. The cloth left and he heard water sloshing before it returned. She washed his neck and shoulders.

“Don’t worry. You haven’t lost too much mass.

It’s hard to weigh you but your ribs are more defined.” She washed him there, down his belly, all the way to the covering across his lap. “I’m a professional. It’s okay.”

The cloth withdrew and he tried to snarl again as she slid the material lower. He could feel air hit his hips and knew he wore nothing except something that trailed over one thigh.

“Okay. I said that, didn’t I? This isn’t so bad. I needed to check your catheter anyway.”

He couldn’t move as the female cleaned his skin and he was shocked when timid, small fingers adjusted his cock. She touched him without gloves and he felt his body stir in response to skin-on-skin contact.

“Shit!” Her hand jerked away. “I guess that’s a good sign. Destiny said you never responded when he did that but it’s definitely a reaction to stimuli.” She sounded nervous. “It all looks good.

Everything is secure here and, um, I don’t need to reinsert your catheter.”

Her gentle ministrations became a little hurried as she washed down his legs and covered his lap with something light and dry. It tickled a little when she washed his feet and between his toes with the washcloth.

“Your foot jerked.” Excitement laced her voice. “You haven’t done that before! Maybe taking you away from Homeland was a good thing after all.”

The sounds of her breathing drew closer to his head. Wet hair fell across his bare chest when she leaned over him. The locks were cold but warm breath fanned his throat. Something was removed from over his eyes. It tugged a little on his forehead and cheeks.

“880? Can you hear me? Please open your eyes. I removed the taped pads. You’re safe.

You’ve been rescued from Mercile Industries.

They don’t have you anymore.”

What does that mean? He struggled to see her but everything remained dark.

Fingers rested on his chest and stroked his skin gently. “You just need to wake up. I’m so sorry about what was done to your mate. I know it hurts but you have to come back to the living. You’re young, strong, and have a bright future. There are a lot of people who will help you adjust to life outside the facilities. We all care about you.” She paused. “I care about you.”

What happened to 46? Why is the female sorry? Panic gripped him and he pushed at the fog inside his mind. Memories rushed forth as if a mental door opened that shoved him back into reality.