Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 15337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
Then there, in the bright sunlight, on the deck of a boat, with zombies on the shore, I did, crying out his name.
His hips started to thrust harder and faster, reaching his own release. As he did, his hands held my hips down as he bucked deep and came with my name hissing between his lips.
I lowered to his chest afterward, face resting in his neck as we both tried to come back down from the orgasms.
“You’re going to need to tolerate this,” I informed him, nuzzling in a bit. “I think I’ve been touch-starved through this,” I admitted.
“I’m comfortable enough in my masculinity to admit that I fucking love a snuggle, Catie with a C and ie,” he told me, arms giving me a squeeze.
“Yeah, speaking of that,” I said, pressing up just enough to look down at his stupidly good-looking face.
“My rugged masculinity?” he asked, smiling at me.
“Normally, I would say no,”
“Ouch,” he said, but that smile didn’t dim.
“But what was up with those GI Joe moves back there?” I asked.
This time, the smile did fall. And just a bit of that lightness and levity left his eyes.
“Decade in the service,” he admitted, trying to shrug it off, but it was clearly something serious to him.
“I believe it. Wait… is that why you looked kind of dark when you talked about the military being one of the first to go down when the virus started?”
“Yeah. I was on base when it first happened,” he admitted. “It was ugly. Had to chop off the head of a man I really respected. So I got the hell out of there, dropped my entire savings on supplies, found my mansion, and Toddy, and the rest…” he said, waving a hand out.
“Nothing about your personality says ex-military to me,” I admitted.
“They tried to force it out of me, but it turns out, it was just lying dormant. And now, you get to enjoy this perfect specimen,” he said, waving a hand at himself, making a laugh bubble up and burst out.
“I can think of worse people to be trapped with during a zombie apocalypse,” I admitted.
“Aw, shucks, is that your way of admitting you like me?” he asked, wiggling his brows. “Don’t worry, Catie with a C and ie, I kinda dig you too. But speaking of those zombies,” he said, moving to sit up, giving me no choice but to scoot off of him.
I quickly made my way below deck, to clean up before making my way back up, still stark naked. Because he’d already seen it all. And because I wasn’t sure the zombies even understood the concept of nudity. A lot of them were walking around with boobs and peens out.
“How’s it looking?” I asked.
“Somewhat comical,” he admitted, head turning toward me, and his gaze moved over me before making it to my face. “That one there,” he said, pointing, “just mistook my blow up lady float for a human. On the downside, she’s now deflated.”
“Yes, what a great loss,” I said, snorting at the memory of the bikini-clad woman with giant boobs. “How long do you think they’re going to wait us out?” I asked, grimacing at the group that had gathered. At least twenty of them.
“Depends on how hungry they are, I guess. Brains are probably in short supply.”
“Well if all they want is brains, then you’re probably pretty safe,” I teased.
“Ha ha,” he said, shooting me small eyes. “Real nice when I just saved your ass back there. Your very juicy ass,” he added, reaching out to give it a squeeze. “I might understand their desire to take a bite,” he added.
“That was really close,” I said, exhaling hard as I leaned into him.
With the adrenaline gone, I was remembering it with a lot more clarity.
“What? No way. I had that covered.”
“I froze. I never freeze,” I told him, wincing at my reaction back on the shore.
“Hey, you don’t always have to be on your game now. I got you.”
It should not have, since I’d spent the last few years taking care of my damn self—and pretty well, I might add—but his words made my heart squeeze a little.
“It’s nice not to be alone,” I admitted.
“Yeah, you got me now, kid,” he said, yanking me in front of him, and resting his chin on the top of my head as his arms went around me. “I feel like this moment requires some theme music,” he declared.
“Of course you do.”
“Does Taylor have something that fits this? She was the queen of love and heartbreak songs.”
Was.
Because we assumed everyone was dead.
“Did you see her concert?” I asked, cringing hard as a trio of infected people tore through tens of thousands of people in what looked like a blink. I’d needed to turn off the TV.
“Hey, you’re killing the mood,” he declared. Then, deciding on Sinatra, started to sing.