Chapter 30 #2
Which sounded like exactly the kind of scientific excuse Severin would come up with…except it might actually be true.
Cassie shut off the water. She’d been in the shower long enough—she couldn’t hide from her problems anymore.
The sudden silence felt loud. For a moment she just stood there, dripping and breathing, trying to decide if she was being ridiculous.
Maybe she should keep this to herself. Maybe she should get dressed, pretend everything was fine, and not tell the gorgeous Blood Kindred scientist that her body was acting like it wanted to climb both him and his best friend like a pair of very large, very muscular trees.
But no, that would be stupid, she decided—maybe even dangerous.
If this was the Hunger Virus changing inside her, Severin needed to know. He needed samples, test results, observations—all the annoying science things that made her want to roll her eyes. And if there was a cure, or even a way to slow the reaction down, he was the one who could find it.
Even though explaining her symptoms was going to be mortifying, she needed to tell him.
Cassie grabbed a towel from the warming rack and began drying herself off. The fabric was rougher than she expected and when it scraped over her nipples, she gasped. Pleasure shot through her so sharply that her knees almost weakened.
“Oh, come on,” she whispered, glaring down at her own breasts as though they had personally betrayed her.
Her nipples were tight and swollen—darker than usual against the fullness of her breasts.
The towel brushed them again and another little jolt went through her, hot and humiliating and undeniably good.
She had to dry herself with ridiculous care after that, patting instead of rubbing, because apparently her body had decided that even basic hygiene was foreplay now.
Wonderful…just wonderful.
By the time Cassie was dry, her cheeks were flushed and her nerves felt scraped raw. She found the red nighty hanging from a hook and stared at it with loathing.
“I hate you,” she told it.
The nighty did not answer, because it was a piece of clothing and also because it knew it had already won.
There was nothing else to wear. She didn’t know what had become of her robe—probably it was still somewhere in the decontamination room but it was filthy with blood and zombie saliva from where the Infected had bit her. Even if she could find it, she wouldn’t wear it again.
So Cassie had no choice but to pull the skimpy red silk over her head again.
It slid down over her body like a whisper and immediately clung in all the wrong places, barely covering her breasts and hips, leaving her thighs bare, and doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that her nipples were still hard.
She tugged at the hem, trying to make it longer which didn’t work in the least. Why oh why had she decided to go to bed early the evening she was thrown out of the Crystal City?
If only she’d stayed up a little later she wouldn’t have been caught in the middle of a zombie apocalypse in nothing but a too-short, skimpy red nighty.
For that matter, if only she’d chosen to do laundry when she should have, she would have had her more comfortable pjs on, which she’d brought with her from Earth.
But they had all been in the dirty clothes and she hadn’t felt like laundry earlier that day.
So she’d wound up wearing something she’d bought for her honeymoon with Sskarth and had never worn since.
And so here she was—stuck with the evil nighty.
“This isn’t clothing,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “This is the sum of all my bad decisions with spaghetti straps!”
Unfortunately, it was the only bad decision she had, so she put it on.
Cassie ran a hand through her damp hair and looked at herself in the small reflective panel above the sink.
She looked flushed and mussed and much too awake for a woman who had been attacked by zombies, rescued by aliens, pleasured by two Kindred warriors, and then had to perform emergency oral burn care on a Beast Kindred’s penis before breakfast. Not to mention the little “ride” she’d taken on that self-same penis and the resulting fountain of cum that had bathed her insides.
Despite her long shower, she still wasn’t sure she’d gotten all of Ravik’s cum out of her pussy.
Her life had become completely insane. But if the virus was trying to make her want things she shouldn’t want, then she needed to know that before it got worse.
Taking a deep breath, Cassie turned toward the door.
She would find Severin. She would give him his samples. She would tell him—calmly and clearly—that her body was acting weird.
She would not blurt out that she kept imagining him bending her over his lab table while Ravik watched. She would not tell him about the giant bed fantasy or the kissing fantasy or the fact that her nipples had nearly made her knees buckle when she dried off with a towel.
She would be mature, scientific, helpful, and—thanks to her loathsome red nighty—mostly clothed.
And if Severin gave her that intense, hungry look with his fangs out, or if Ravik tried to pull her into his lap again, she would absolutely not melt into a puddle on the bunker floor…she would try not to, anyway, she promised herself.
Cassie lifted her chin and opened the door. Then she stepped into the hallway to find the Blood Kindred scientist and confess that something was very definitely wrong with her body.
And God help her, she just hoped he could fix it.