Free Being Green (Cyborg Sizzle Book 5) by Cynthia Sax Page B

that she would fantasize about him. “This is Green. I require your assistance.”
    “Green, the sick plant guy, you’re here.” A face peeked out of the covering sheet and Green inhaled sharply, the sight of his female stirring his desire.
    Fraggin’ hole , Barrel muttered though their private line. She’s beautiful. There will be no dissuading him now.
    She was beautiful, her face round and tanned a warm golden hue, her lips as red as Windy’s petals, her hair as brown as his plant’s soil, and her eyes—
    Her eyes are green. Zip’s transmission was edged with wonder. I didn’t know humans could have eyes that color.
    They’re the shade of newly formed leaves. Green gazed at his female, enthralled, yearning to touch her, to determine if her cheeks were as soft as they appeared.
    She gazed around the chamber. “You’re not physically here.” Lines appeared between her eyebrows. “But I hear your voice…I think.” Her laughter flowed into Green’s soul and settled deep in his core. “I could be hallucinating. I’ve been alone for so long.”
    He heard the yearning for companionship in her voice. “The hailing frequencies are open.”
    “Oh shit. Did I forget to turn them off?” She scrambled off the sleeping support. The thin, faded, sleeveless chest covering and skimpy ass covering she wore barely contained her jiggling curves.
    Green didn’t know where to look, every view of her stirring his lust. His shaft pressed against the fabric of his flight suit. His balls ached. He wanted this female, more than he’d ever wanted any thing, any being.
    She slapped her hands along storage compartments. Her fingers were intriguingly calloused and creased with tiny silver scars. “The communicator is around here somewhere. I know it is.”
    Was she seeking to turn it off? “I require your assistance, my female. Windy, my plant, is damaged.” And he wanted to talk with his little botanist, to look at her some more.
    “My name is Doctor Shelby Cooper, not your female.” She moved a plant container, looked behind it. “And I have been helping you, haven’t I? I gave you general plant care tips. There’s no need to speak to me directly.”
    There was every need to speak to her. “If you saw Windy, you might have additional insights.”
    She paused. Her head tilted, her curls shifting on her shoulders, the tendrils long and tangled. “That’s true, I might, and you’ve already contacted me.” Her patting of storage compartments resumed. “But to see Windy, I first have to find the communicator.”
    “It’s located one row up, three columns to your right,” he directed, trusting her to continue their conversation.
    The female’s chambers are a mess. Barrel wasn’t as amused as Green was by her disorganization. Why does she require so many containers?
    My female has no means of replacing them if she discards them. He understood her thought processes. His female had little access to external resources.
    She isn’t your female.
    She is. She’s mine . Green rumbled his claim.
    You can’t be certain of that, not yet. Barrel pushed back.
    I’m as certain about Shelby as Rage was about Joan. The C Model cyborg had met Joan and had immediately known that the human female belonged to him.
    Green felt the same way about his botanist.
    Shelby was his.
    He had to impress her, but how? Rage had earned Joan’s love by killing for her. According to Shelby’s own reports in scientific journals, there were no other beings on the small, unknown planet she inhabited, no enemies for Green to battle.
    “There you are.” She retrieved the communicator, setting it before her, at eye level. “You’re a…” Her lush lips rounded. “No, this must be a mistake. You can’t be Green. You’re a cyborg.”
    “I am Green.” Did his female have an issue with cyborgs? Many humans did, viewing them as machines, not living beings capable of free thought and emotions.
    “You’re contacting me about your plant.” She