Free Man or Machine: 2 (Body Electric) by Electra Shepherd Page A

point, and besides, there wasn’t a security system invented that Hal couldn’t breach. Although Ilsa had scrupulously avoided any information about him since she’d left him, Cally’s news about how he made his money made total sense.
    She wondered if his work annoyed his parents.
    Dallas worked on the other side of the room. He’d greeted her cheerfully when she’d come in, but then he seemed to sense her mood and kept to himself. From the sounds of it, he was learning how to whistle and he was quite good at it. A gamut of friendly tunes accompanied her typing.
    Other than that, she wasn’t sure what he was working on, though it appeared to involve hardware as well as software, and at one point he disappeared for a couple hours.
    She felt bad about that too. Robots shouldn’t have to put up with moodiness. She should be spending time with him, developing his personality and skills, introducing him to the world. It was her responsibility as his creator and besides, she would enjoy it. He was shaping up into a nice guy.
    Nice enough to spend the rest of your life with? asked a little voice in her head.
    She put it aside. Unfortunately, it wasn’t replaced by any more useful thoughts about protocols or algorithms. Instead, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what Hal was doing right now.
    He’d be lying on the king-sized guest-room bed, his shoes off, his legs crossed at the ankle, reading a book. Or he’d be eating the lunch Red would have left for him, absently wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Or maybe he’d be taking advantage of the rare opportunity of free time without any electronic distraction to have a long soak in the sunken bath. The hot water lapping at his skin, steam rising up and caressing his face. His hair damp and curly, his long, sculpted arms and hands lying on either side of the tub. His eyes would be closed, his face relaxed—high cheekbones, straight nose. His mobile mouth would be still.
    She pictured a single drop of water rolling from the hollow under his jaw, down his neck and slowly down his chest. Joining the rest of that lucky, lucky bathwater that was surrounding him, supporting him, touching every inch of his naked body.
    He’d towel himself off with one of the soft bath sheets afterward. Maybe he’d stay naked—the house was warm and Hal had always been unselfconscious about his body. Unlike Ilsa, who favored baggy clothes that obscured her shape. She was very aware she was narrow-hipped and small-breasted, too skinny and unathletic. A poor specimen of womanhood next to her curvy, sensual sister Cally.
    Except when she’d been naked with Hal. In those moments, she’d never felt her body was inadequate. If she had any confidence in her own sexuality, that was a gift he’d given her.
    Ilsa shook her head and tried to focus on the screen. Her relationship with Hal was over. So what if the guy was having a bath? It was a normal thing, not a…fetish.
    And besides, he might have decided to take a shower. Then the water would be coursing down his body, making a silver sheen on his skin. Running down his shoulders and back, skimming off the curve of his ass. Channeling through his wet pubic hair and around the back of his balls. Dripping off the end of his cock. Maybe he would touch himself, as he had when she was watching. Tilting his head back with pleasure. Thinking of…
    “Ilsa?”
    She started and opened her eyes. Dallas was standing beside her, a friendly smile on his face. Blue had given him a pair of jeans, which he wore without a shirt. It made him look a little like a barefoot cowboy.
    “Oh, hi, Dallas,” she said. “How’s it going?”
    “Great, baby. Never better.”
    “I like the whistling.”
    “Oh well, you know, I’m only a beginner.” He whistled a strain of Mendelssohn. Every note, as far as Ilsa could tell, faultless.
    “Some beginner.” She surveyed him. She’d never have expected the whistling. Or the style sense, which quite suited