Bloody Sunrise: A Zombie Apocalypse Romance Page 11

  Time became elastic, stretching in infinite directions.

  Fixed in place, neither of them eased into the kiss for what felt like eternity. Both too shocked, too overwhelmed, too scared of it all being an elaborate hallucination.

  And then his lips moved against hers gently, and time snapped back.

  Caitlin lunged forward, clutching his face in her hands. She was starved, frantic… A wolf in her own right.

  Booker wrapped his arm around her waist, dragging her closer. Blindly, he discarded his rifle to the side a safe distance away, right as she crawled into his lap. Knees on either side of his thighs, she kissed him like she was dying.

  Maybe she had been. Maybe they both were.

  Snaking his hands under the hem of her shirt, he lit sparks all over her skin. Her hips, her back, her ribs—everywhere he touched came alive.

  Meanwhile she couldn’t get enough of his mouth.

  That smart mouth that had pushed her to the edge so many times, driven her crazy, bickered with her for hours… Now she wanted nothing else but to taste every inch, to memorize each curve, to lose herself when his teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

  A moan escaped her, and Booker’s grip tightened on her hips. She answered by grinding down against the growing bulge in his jeans and his breath stuttered.

  Ducking down, she dragged her teeth over the tendon in his neck, and the full body shudder he had made her giddy.

  His left hand came up under her chin, forcing her mouth back to his. This time he kissed her like he was branding her, and she turned to liquid beneath his touch.

  They fumbled with each other’s shirts, yanking at fabric with little finesse. As soon as Booker cupped her breasts over the cotton of her bra, she arched forward like she’d been shocked.

  Everything. She wanted everything, all at once.

  She didn’t wait for him to attempt to unhook her—she reached back and undid her bra, sliding it off her arms and tossing it somewhere in the Jeep.

  “How’s a man supposed to go slow when y’do somethin’ like that, huh?” He mumbled against the corner of her mouth.

  Caitlin grinned and brought his hands up to her breasts again. Calloused palms were deliciously rough against sensitive flesh, skilled fingers pinching and tugging. Then his lips were gone from hers, only to find a new home latched on her left nipple, and she gasped sharply.

  “Fuck,” she breathed, clutching the back of his head. He groaned against her, making her shiver, and she pulled his hair. He seemed to enjoy that if his tongue was any indicator.

  Booker switched sides, making her head swim with how perfect it all was. He knew her, inside and out, could feel her signals even before she did.

  Viscerally interconnected.

  Without letting her go, Booker started undoing the fly of her jeans, popping the button one handed and tugging the zipper.

  His fingers had just brushed the skin below her navel when a spike of something worrisome shot through her. She recoiled slightly, and he stopped everything.

  “Too much?” He looked up at her. “We can stop, if—”

  “No, no.” She clutched his hand. “I just… The last time I did this was before…”

  Before the world ended.

  “When I had a shower of my own, access to a razor…” She laughed softly.

  Booker’s hand tangled in her hair as he dragged his nose between her breasts, over her collarbone, and up her neck.

  “Smell like heaven to me,” he murmured, kissing her pulse point. “As for the razor…” His knuckles skimmed over her lower abdomen, stopping at the elastic of her underwear. “Never did care much for the shaved look.”

  He nipped at her ear and she jerked, moaning quietly.

  That settled it then.

  In a flurry, she slid off him to yank her jeans down her thighs. Booker helped, chuckling at her enthusiasm. When they were off and tossed away, he bent down to kiss up her leg, from knee to hip, licking and teasing her as he went.

  He moved along the length of her body, peppering her with kisses and kitten licks, driving her mad with lust.

  Pushing at his thick shoulders, she forced him up, much to his confusion until he caught her meaning.

  On your back.

  He did so without hesitation, hauling her with him as he shifted.

  She straddled him with fierce determination, planting her hands on his chest and leaning down to kiss him until he was groaning into her mouth.

  Caitlin rocked her hips, egging him on with sweet torture. Booker’s fingertips dug into the meat of her ass and she whimpered as pleasure rolled through her.

  “Cae…” His voice was gravel. “C’mere.”

  She frowned, unsure of how much closer she could get. And then it clicked.

  “Are you… I mean…”

  Booker tugged at her hips, guiding her. “God, yes.”

  It took a little maneuvering, careful not to knee him in the face, but then he was holding her still with those broad hands on either side of her hip bones.

  He nuzzled the inside of her thighs, alternating between kissing and biting until she was choking on each gasp and moan. Sliding his thumb under the elastic, he yanked the center fabric to the side and—

  “Oh, fuck,” she cried out, covering her mouth.

  He slid his tongue between her folds, tasting thoroughly and groaning against her.

  “Jack… Jack,” she panted, scrambling for purchase on the interior of the Jeep.

  His moans were almost as desperate as hers. Sucking her clit between his lips, he hummed, and Caitlin saw stars.

  “Jack!” She grabbed his hair, fingers twisting, and he nodded against her.

  Do what you want.

  Take what you need.

  Fuck me.

  Thrusting her hips, she worked against his tongue, finding a rhythm that left her almost breathless.

  Barreling towards climax, she knew she couldn’t be quiet, knew she’d scream like a demon if given half the chance.

  Grabbing his wrist, she yanked his hand to her mouth, taking his first three fingers down to the knuckle. Booker groaned, hips twitching involuntarily.

  The first wave hit, and Caitlin arched back, cries muffled by his hand.

  Her orgasm crashed over her, unrelenting. Booker took delight in eating her through it, burying his face between her thighs.

  Releasing his fingers from between her lips, she gasped and tried to pull back.

  “Booker, ah, oh God,” she moaned. “I… Can’t…”

  Except he was still circling her clit with the tip of his tongue, and before she could try to climb down, she was shattering apart again.

  “Jesus Christ, Jack,” she panted, pitching forward.

  By the way he wasn’t slowing, he was gunning to give her a third, and she wasn’t sure if her body was aching from need or overstimulation.

  He knew though. Knew she could take it, could have it, knew he’d die to feel her come on his tongue again.

  Her palm smacked the driver’s seat headrest as she held on for dear life.

  Wolf devouring wolf.

  Consumed and made whole, all at once.

  Caitlin’s voice cracked in half when she came again, nails gouging the upholstery.

  Finally, Booker eased back, groaning like he’d been given a straight shot of dopamine.

  He held her safely as she moved off him, catching her breath.

  “Fuck me.”

  Booker chuckled, running his fingers up his chin, collecting what was left dripping down him.

  “No, Jack,” she said, waiting for him to look at her. “Fuck me.”

  He stared, wide eyed for a split second, before he was rolling on top of her.

  Caitlin clutched his face, kissing him deeply. He tasted like her, and it sent a thrill coursing through her.

  Booker manhandled her onto her back, gripping her thighs as he slid her where he needed. Hitching her leg around his waist, he ground against her sensitive core, making her moan
into his shoulder.

  “I’ll try t’go easy,” he murmured into her neck.

  She didn’t want easy. Didn’t want gentle.

  She wanted to feel brutally alive with him inside her.

  And she let him know just as much by digging her nails into his muscled back, scratching hard enough to leave welts.

  “Ah, Cae,” he hissed, dropping his head to her sternum.

  Placing a kiss there, he sat back just far enough to undo his belt and fly. The second he freed himself, Caitlin’s mouth watered.

  Booker groaned, and she glanced up.

  “Can’t look at me like that,” he said. “Killin’ me, darlin’.”

  She grinned and trailed her hand over the ridgelines of his stomach to the course line of hair leading down from his navel.

  “Have to show you what this mouth can do another time,” she said, fingers circling his length. He twitched in her hand and she bloomed with pride.

  Leaning forward, Booker kissed her fiercely and grabbed her hips. In an instant he stripped her panties off, tossing them towards the front. Forcing her ass off the Jeep floor, he pulled her closer until she was resting on his thighs, legs spread wide around him.

  She was already flushed and shaking with anticipation, and then he nudged at her entrance and she arched her back like a bow.

  He took his time opening her up, sliding in inch by inch. When he bottomed out, she gasped and clutched his forearm, nails leaving red crescents deep in his skin.

  “Yes, God yes,” she breathed, nodding.

  Through half-shut eyes she watched him withdraw only to slam back inside her. His left hand kept her hips where he wanted, while his right reached up, squeezing her breast with just enough pressure to make her moan.

  “Cae… Shit,” he grunted as he thrust.

  He shook from all his restraint, but she needed more. Dragging her nails over his chest, she silently begged for him to let go.

  He obliged.

  Hips snapping forward, he picked up the pace until the Jeep was rocking from the force of it.

  Alive. They were alive. With all the messy, complicated parts that entailed… They still had air in their lungs, still had heartbeats.

  Still had each other.

  Caitlin’s walls fluttered, clenching around him as she came with a broken cry.

  Booker gripped her thighs hard enough to leave small bruises, and she wanted them all. He fucked her harder, growling as his climax hit, tipping him forward.

  Gulping for air, face buried in her hair, Booker slowly came back to himself.

  He kissed the hinge of her jaw, nosing her ear and cheek until she giggled.

  “Well that’s the best car sex I’ve ever had,” she said, stroking his back.

  Booker chuckled, sucking a mark into her neck. “Foldin’ seats are a miracle.”

  She laughed again, and he groaned, feeling it from where he was still inside her. After a moment, he withdrew and haphazardly tucked himself back into his jeans, before laying down next to her.

  Caitlin rolled to face him, and he offered himself as a pillow.

  “Y’cold?” He asked, threading his fingers through her hair.

  “You’re kidding right?” She kissed his chest. “Summer in Mississippi. I’ll never be cold again.”

  He chuckled again, and she felt the reverberation in her own ribcage.

  They laid in silence, listening to the crickets and each other’s breathing.

  “Jack…”

  He pressed his lips to the top of her head.

  “Yeah.”

  This meant something.

  This really meant something.

  Holding him tight, Caitlin drifted off to sleep with Booker’s heartbeat in her ear.

  ***

  She thought it was a dream. A vivid, intense dream concocted from the potent mix of loneliness, survival, and hormones.

  And then she opened her eyes.

  She was covered by one of Booker’s plaid shirts, naked underneath, and aching in every way that would indicate she had in fact fucked him in the back of the Jeep.

  Booker wasn’t with her though.

  Early morning light stung her sensitive eyes as she looked around. She spotted her jeans, shirt; her bra had landed on the dashboard.

  Sitting up, she held the shirt to her chest and finger combed her hair. It was the first morning she’d ever woken up without Booker at her side, and it left her with a shaky feeling in her stomach.

  “Jack?”

  Nothing.

  Caitlin pulled the shirt on, buttoning it, and slid out of the Jeep.

  His rifle was gone, but everything else was where it should be. Even the few clothes they’d rinsed and left to dry on tree branches were there.

  Taking stock of her surroundings, she made a list of things Booker would do, places he’d go, without waking her to tell her he was leaving.

  It was a short list.

  If he’d been relieving himself in the bushes, he’d have heard her and responded. So that left the pond.

  Through the trees and over the slope of grassy hillside, she spotted the water glittering in the sun. The splashes gave him away.

  Ducking beneath the surface, he popped back up, flinging his wet hair and scrubbing his face. He was waist deep, and from what she could tell, totally nude.

  Being barefoot gave her a silent advantage, and she used it, sneaking closer to the bank and sitting down next to his clothes and rifle.

  She didn’t get many opportunities to see him just… be. Not planning their route, watching for roaming Geeks, scavenging for supplies. Just being.

  It felt vulnerable to her in a way she’d long thought couldn’t exist in a broken world.

  She’d never been happier to be wrong.

  Hugging her knees to her chest, she smiled as she waited for him to notice her.

  She knew the second he did—Hand stilling as he washed his arm, head tilting just enough to spot her on the grass.

  “You peepin’ on me now?” He asked, grinning.

  “Maybe a little.”

  Turning slowly in the water, his gaze raked over her bare legs. “How ‘bout you get in here and join me?”

  “Somebody’s gotta keep watch.”

  He always looked after her. Always put her safety ahead of his own. She would have done anything to return that favor, if only for a morning.

  “Sayin’ I can’t multitask?”

  She rolled her eyes, smile still playing at her lips. “We both know you struggle with that one.”

  Wading over, his stare was predatory, but she’d never felt safer.

  Gently grabbing her ankles, he pulled until her legs stretched out. She was considerably fairer skinned than he was, especially since her legs hadn’t seen daylight in two months. Wet fingers trailed over her, playing a subtle game of connect the dots with her freckles and the love bites and stubble burn he’d left on the inside of her thighs.

  Rubbing his thumb over the darkest of the bruises, he glanced up at her face.

  “Y’alright?”

  Does it hurt?

  Do you regret it?

  Are we…

  She cupped his jaw, brushing the corner of his mouth with her thumb, and smiled.

  “Yeah.” In the sun she could see the red lines her nails had left on his shoulders and over his left pectoral. They’d marked each other.

  She locked eyes with him. “You weren’t in the Jeep when I woke up.”

  “You were out like a light,” he said, arching into her touch. “Didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

  “You should’ve.” Her fingers toyed with the wet hair by his ear. “I was worried.”

  His calloused palm skimmed up her thigh, disappearing beneath the hem of her borrowed shirt.

  “’M sorry, songbird,” he murmured, kissing her wrist. “Y’gonna let me make it up to ya?”

  She grinned and started undoing the few buttons she’d fastened.

  Gripping her calves, he t
ugged her closer until her feet were in the water. “Knew it.”

  “Knew what?”

  “My shirt looks damn fine on you, darlin’.”

  Her giggle was muffled by him leaning up to kiss her.

  They had to go slow, as she was still sore, but she didn’t care. Especially when Booker was finally in her, drawing in and out languidly, making her moan each time he hit that perfect spot.

  And then he pulled her leg up over his shoulder, and she was choking on a gasp.

  “Beautiful, Cae,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the inside of her knee. “So beautiful.”

  “Jack…” She clawed at the grass, at his bicep, desperate to hold onto something. “I’m…”

  “That’s it.”

  “Oh God.” She came with blinding intensity, arching her back and tossing her head against the bank of the pond.

  He followed moments later, groaning her name.

  Those few seconds of stillness were the closest to peace either of them had felt in months.

  Dwelling in satisfaction, Caitlin stretched her legs, letting her feet submerge in the cool water. Letting her eyes close, she sighed, only to get yanked even closer to the edge of the pond by a grinning Booker. He caught her before she slid in the mud, hoisting her up and gently settling her into the water waist-deep.

  Booker helped her get cleaned up, washing her hair for her and trailing kisses over the back of her neck. When he cupped her breast as she rinsed, she playfully splashed water in his face, making him laugh. They chased each other around the pond like it was their own Eden.

  They’d already begun to feel like the only people on earth.

  When they dried off and started back towards the Jeep, Booker handed her his plaid shirt back.

  “Looks better on you,” he said, kissing her.

  She waited until he wasn’t looking to bring it to her nose, breathing in his scent.

  They planned as they ate.

  Head to one of the highways they’d seen packed with abandoned cars, siphon as much gas as they could, scavenge food, clothes, and supplies, and start north. They’d mapped out several alternate routes in their days after leaving Alabama. If one was blocked, they had other ways to get around.

  If they stuck to a strict schedule, rationed their food, and were able to find fuel along the way, they could be in New York by the end of the week.