“Keith, are you defending the underground?” Graeme’s voice was taut with disgust.

  I put up both hands. “No, no, not at all. I’m just… they’ve been in the news so much lately. I’m trying to figure them out.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out.” Graeme waved a hand. “Honestly, we’d be better off if the government phased out sims.”

  “No, it wouldn’t.” Lacey shook her head. “Science has proven people are happier with the orgasmic dopamine release on a regular basis, and it’s cleaner and safer to achieve that through a sim. And as long as people don’t have any kind of skin-to-skin physical contact, then there’s no temptation.”

  Graeme thumped his finger on the table. “But what people experience in their sims makes them curious, and then it’s not enough. You get people who decide they just want a little touch, or a little contact, and the next thing you know they’re bringing home incurable diseases from a wireless lounge. Or kids fathered by God knows who.”

  “And without the sims, people will kill each other,” I said.

  “Then they just need harsher penalties for the degenerates who think they need more.” Graeme’s lip curled. “I don’t care what people are curious about. We’re better off like this. As a civilization and as a species. If the outliers want to break the rules and get themselves sick or arrested, then fine. But it’s still a better life for the rest of us. So it’s a damned good thing the police are on top of it. These reckless idiots would send us back decades if they weren’t kept in check.”

  Lacey nodded. “Amen.”

  There was a time when I had believed that fully, without question.

  Deep down, though, I knew that was over.

  Maybe they were right, Graeme and Lacey. Millions upon millions of people in this city were perfectly happy using sims to get the recommended release of dopamine. They got what they needed, and then they moved on with their lives, whereas I’d been tripping over my own feet since the moment Aiden had first peeled off my glove.

  The break room conversation replayed in my head for the rest of the day, but that wasn’t the only thing stuck in my brain. All the way through my shift, all the way back to my apartment, I couldn’t stop thinking about the lounge, or Aiden, or the sweaty, full-contact things we’d done, and all the things we hadn’t yet done.

  Things we shouldn’t do, Keith. It’s a bad idea. All the way around.

  I rubbed my temples, but that didn’t help. The pressure did, but the gloves separating my fingers from my skin—from my own goddamned skin—only reminded me of what it felt like to actually touch someone. Which got me thinking about Aiden’s touch. Which started turning me on for the thousandth time today.

  I am losing my mind. Absolutely losing my fucking mind.

  Something had to give. I had to do something. Relieve this tension, clear my mind, something.

  I went into my bedroom and dug through a drawer until I found the suppressor that had been in here for ages. It wasn’t expired, fortunately. I hadn’t used one in years, so I didn’t even know how long I’d had this one.

  Suppressor in hand and stomach fluttering with nerves, I lay back on my bed. I turned the inhaler around and around between my fingers. I’d heard these things could get just as addictive as real sex. Couldn’t see how; I’d used them before, and they were awful.

  But if I had any hope of sleeping tonight, all these fantasies and spine-tingling urges had to go.

  I put my lips around the inhaler, pressed the button, and pulled in the puff of bittersweet vapor. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back on the pillow. I breathed slowly and deeply while the suppressor worked its way into my bloodstream.

  It didn’t take long to kick in. The numbness started on the inside, almost like it was expanding from my lungs outward. My arms, then my legs, were warm and heavy, not quite tingling, but almost. And then the part I hated the most: my head spun. Lightened. The thoughts were still there, but less coherent. Scattered. The very edges of concepts and memories that I couldn’t quite grasp and form into something clear and solid.

  Even if the thoughts managed to crystallize, my body was too numb to react. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Heavy, yet unsubstantial, like only a fraction of my body’s molecules still existed, and those that did had turned to lead. A hard wind might’ve blown me away, or I might’ve sunk through the floor. That disconcerting sensation alone made arousal impossible.

  All the while, in the back of my mind, I knew the suppressor would wear off in an hour or so. And where would that leave me? Still itching for a jaunt to the wireless lounge? Desperate to jerk myself off in the shower and risk someone auditing my apartment cameras?

  I was so screwed.

  Great choice of words, idiot.

  The suppressor did help me sleep, fortunately, but when I woke up, my mind was clear enough to take me right back to where I’d started. My body was hungry, and not just for breakfast and coffee. With thirty-six hours remaining before I’d cross the tracks to the wireless lounge, I ached. Badly. I wanted Aiden. Contact. Freedom from this damned suit and the release of being wrapped up in his arms.

  God, I was going to go crazy. In fact, I was pretty sure I was already there.

  Maybe I needed more relief than a suppressor could offer. Fact was, every simtech had the occasional unscheduled sim. It was one of the perks of the job, as long as the schedule was light and the rooms were free. It only raised eyebrows if it became a habit. And I’d take raised eyebrows—and the interrogation-like inquiries—over the consequences of visiting the lounge again. Which I was supposed to do tomorrow night.

  No. No, I couldn’t go. I had to resist the temptation. A few suppressors, an extra sim now and then to take the edge off, and eventually the novelty of the real thing would fade away and I could move on with my life.

  I locked up my apartment and headed to the simhouse.

  “Keith?” Lacey said as I walked in through the front. “Aren’t you off today?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but I…”

  She grinned. “Go ahead. Twelve is available until fourteen hundred.”

  Heat rushed into my cheeks, and I muttered “thanks” before starting down the hall toward the sim room.

  Setting up a sim was second nature. I went through the motions countless times every single day, and had for years. Before long, the equipment was in place and the program was ready to run.

  Maybe I was just making it worse for myself, but Aiden was the only one who turned me on, so I used the sim partner I’d designed after him.

  As soon as the program started, I knew this wasn’t going to work. The virtual Aiden’s expression was flat. His grin was nothing more than the result of a series of superficial facial movements. No life behind the eyes, no devilishness to weaken my knees. There was no quiet desperation in his touch, no wanting. Robotic, tactile stimulation. The medicinal scent of artificial pheromones. And nothing—absolutely nothing—in my sim partner’s eyes except the most compulsory painted-in sparkle instead of the very human gleam in Aiden’s.

  I closed my eyes, shutting out the virtual image of Aiden, and let the memories take over. The machine stroking my cock in a clumsy facsimile of a man’s hand doing the same provided a modest amount of physical stimulation. Everything else came from my mind, from my memory, from that handful of breathtaking moments I’d lived beneath Aiden’s hot, naked body in a forbidden, shadowy corner, and his long-cooled touch turned me on more than this mechanical pantomime.

  I finally came, but it barely curled my toes. A relief of tension, a few pleasant shudders, and then it was over, leaving me still hungry for Aiden.

  After I’d dressed, I didn’t leave the room yet. Instead, I sank onto the chair beside the door and rested my face in my hands. A sim was supposed to relieve stress and give me the release I needed, but I felt worse than I had earlier.

  One thing was painfully clear now—the virtual version of Aiden wasn’t cutting it anymore.

  I needed the real thing.

  * * * *

  I knew the way to the building, and I had the combination for the door, so I could meet Aiden there instead of beside the mech tracks.

  The guard scanned the chip on my neck and then let me through.

  Aiden was waiting near the entrance, just like he said he’d be. I expected my heart to flutter when I saw him, but it didn’t. If anything, it sank. Deeper and deeper as he came toward me.

  What am I doing here?

  Aiden stopped, and his smile faded. He furrowed his brow. “You okay?”

  What the hell am I doing here?

  I exhaled. “No. I’m not.”

  Aiden gestured for me to follow him. I hesitated but then went with him, and we stepped into the hallway near the curtains and bare-bulb lights. It was quieter out here. I probably would’ve been able to collect my thoughts now if not for the man standing in front of me. The object of my distraction.

  We found a curtained-off bubble of privacy, and Aiden faced me. “You’re worrying me, Keith. You look…I don’t know, stressed?”

  “I am.”

  “Why?”

  I glared at him. “Why do you think?” I waved a hand at our surroundings. “I’ve been jonesing for this for days, and I’m scared shitless of someone finding out I’m here. I—”

  “Take it easy.” Aiden put a hand on my arm, which didn’t help me calm down at all. “No one’s going to find you here.”

  “You don’t know that. And even if I could be sure, what about in between the nights I come here? I—the suppressors aren’t working.” I shoved a hand through my hair. “The sims don’t do a damned thing for me.”

  He squeezed my arm. “It’s still new. They’ll eventually take the edge off.”

  “Yeah, but what’s happening to me?” I wrenched away from his touch. “Am I—God, I’m a fucking addict.”

  “No, you’re not. You’ve been here twice.”

  “I know, and I’m already losing my fucking mind.” I raked a hand through my hair. “I can’t stop thinking about…about this, about you, about—”

  “Keith, listen to me.” He lifted my chin so our eyes met. “It’s just new, that’s all.”

  “So it gets better?” It gets better than wishing you weren’t wearing your glove right now?

  He pursed his lips. “It’ll get better, but I wasn’t kidding when I said a sim’s never going to be enough now.”

  “Fuck.” I pulled away from his touch and rubbed my eyes. “So what the hell do I do?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer before I glared at him. “Why the hell did you bring me here if you knew it was going to fuck me up like this? Did you just want to fool around and then—”

  “No!” Aiden narrowed his eyes. “If I just wanted to bring you here, fuck you, and leave you to the wolves, don’t you think I’d have—”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “I want you.” He tenderly cupped my face. “I wanted you to know what it felt like to really touch a man, and…I want you. It’s that simple.”

  “It’s not simple.” My voice shook badly. “This is killing me.” I brushed his hand away so I could fucking think, but breaking that contact was even more distracting. “When I’m here, when I’m with you, it’s perfect. The rest of the time…” I shook my head and exhaled. “It’s hell.”

  “I know. It’s the same for me.”

  “I doubt that,” I snapped. “You’ve been with, what, how many people?”

  Aiden winced. “You’re the only one I want now. I’ll fuck anyone I want, but you’re the one who keeps me awake at night.”

  My heart flipped. “You’re keeping me awake too. And it’s…it’s driving me insane.” Before he could speak, I took a step back. As I did, I swore every nerve ending in my body screamed in protest, but in spite of the undeniable desire to move back into his arms, I whispered, “I can’t do this.” Another step. Another pang of instant regret. “I’m sorry, Aiden. I can’t.”

  And before he could stop me, I left.

  Chapter 9

  One of my regular patients came in just after lunch the next day. Rodney had been coming here for years. Nice guy. Late forties. A little hyper and twitchy, but he was always pleasant.

  Today, though, he was extra wound up. Sitting in the waiting area, he wrung his hands in his lap and couldn’t sit still. He’d been like that a lot lately, and it was getting worse.

  “Rodney?” I said.

  He looked up, and as he stood, I thought he mouthed, “Oh, thank God.”

  On the way down the hall, I asked, “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” He looked around. “Ev-everything’s fine.”

  Uh-oh.

  In the room, I shut the door behind us. Rodney reached for the zipper of his suit, but then he stopped. He lowered his hands.

  “Listen, you’ve known me a long time, right?” He grimaced and shook his head. “I mean you don’t know me, but you sort of do, and—”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Right. So, you know I’m not a freak, right?” His eyebrows knitted together. “I ain’t a bad person. Right?”

  “You’ve never given me any reason to believe you are. What’s this about?”

  He chewed his lip. “Before…before we start my sim, can I talk to you about something?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  He swallowed hard and glanced at the door. When his gaze darted toward the camera bubble on the ceiling, my chest tightened. I’d had a few conversations with patients that started this way, and they nearly all proceeded in the same direction.

  Speaking quietly, he said, “You have to help me out here. Twice a week—it’s just not enough.”

  I pursed my lips. “I can get you more suppressors, but—”

  “No, no, no.” He shook his head and sharply waved a hand. “It’s not enough, man. I had to take three the other night. Three!”

  How long before I reach that point? “There are stronger doses.”

  “They’re not enough.” His voice shook. “You just don’t understand. They make me feel different, but it’s not even taking the edge off.”

  Oh shit. They already don’t take the edge off for me. “You know you have to talk to your physician about more sessions. There’s nothing I can do.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I know, but he’ll… I don’t think he’s willing. Honestly? With as bad as it’s been lately?” He glanced at the door. When he looked at me again, he inclined his head and lowered his voice. “I’ve been tempted to go to a wireless lounge.”

  Sympathy, guilt, and fear knotted together behind my ribs.

  “You don’t want to do that,” I said with practiced professional seriousness. “Just setting foot in one of those is a class A—”

  “I don’t care.” The desperation in his voice was palpable. “It’s getting that bad.”

  “You need to talk to your physician,” I said. “He’s the only one who can authorize more sim sessions.”

  Rodney’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t talk to him.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know how it is. They keep track of this stuff. If your sessions can’t keep up with your libido, they start poking around. Asking questions.” He shook his head. “They’ll take away my kids, man.”

  “And you don’t think they will if you go to a wireless lounge?”

  “Then what do I do?”

  “I’m sorry.” Two words had never required so much breath. “It’s out of my hands. All I’m authorized to do is give you the suppressors and conduct the sessions your physician has rationed for you. I can’t authorize more.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Rodney. It’s out of my hands.”

  He sighed, then nodded slowly. “I understand. I guess we should get this session going, shouldn’t we?”

  “Yeah. We should.”

  “Okay.” Rodney started unzipping his suit, but hesitated again. “You won’t tell no one, will you? About what I said?”

  “No, of course not. Nothing leaves this room.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  He undressed and got into the chamber. I hooked up all his electrodes, shut the lid, and started his program. While his sim ran, I rested my hip against the monitor console. A year or two ago, I’d have put a watch on him. Put out an alert that he might be at risk for going wireless.

  Now? If I’d had half a brain, I’d have put a watch on myself so someone might intervene if I tried to cross the mech tracks again. Watch me, track me, stop me, keep me from giving in to this temptation that was going to drive me out of my goddamned mind. Put me on house arrest if it came down to it.

  From the moment I’d walked out on Aiden at the lounge, I’d wanted to go back. If Rodney thought he was addicted now, he had no idea what waited for him after a trip to the underground.

  Damn it. I needed to go back. I didn’t know if it was the atmosphere, the erotic possibilities, or the man who’d brought me there. I just wanted more.

  I rubbed my eyes. My temptation was a moot point tonight, anyway. I wasn’t going to the wireless lounge.

  Because I had a date.

  * * * *

  I recognized Julianne the minute she entered the agreed-upon restaurant. No surprise there. We’d spoken on the computer three times, as required by the government. We’d been paired up based on being an ideal match to produce genetically healthy children. In fact, Julianne and I had been rated as an exceptional match—if we married, we’d be permitted four children, the maximum allowed. Most couples were lucky to be allowed two.

  Julianne was taller than I’d expected, standing just about eye level with me, and her hair was even blacker than her suit. Very pretty dark skin and nearly black eyes. Absolutely lovely.

  “It’s great to finally meet you,” I said.

  “You too.” She sat across from me, sitting straight in the hard-backed chair with her hands in her lap. “I haven’t been on very many of these. I’m a little nervous.”

  I smiled. “It’s okay. Me too.”

  “Oh. Good.” She laughed shyly. “Glad I’m not the only one.”