Afterglow: An Apocalypse Romance (10 page)

“I told you to stay down.” His voice was mean, but he didn’t care. And he told himself he didn’t care either when he saw the crushed look on her face.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a good shot and I can take care of myself. I’m not some little girly girl who needs your—or anyone’s—protection.”

“Goddammit, Nina!” he cursed, but after that, he was at a loss for words. She was right. She was capable and strong, but he hated seeing her in danger.

Even worse, it hit him that there was more here than just the two of them crossing the country together. There was more to what he was feeling. And that would make sex with her a mistake, a huge one. It wouldn’t end well—it never did with him—and there wasn’t anywhere for either of them to escape, not until they reached her grandmother’s house at least. Not to mention the fact that everyone he’d ever cared about, and everyone he’d ever tried to protect, had died. His parents. His best friend. His sister. His niece.

“You should get some sleep,” he said, his voice even. He nodded toward the bedroom.

For several seconds Nina just stood there, almost naked, her hands at her sides, one still holding her revolver. It was too dark to make out the expression on her face, but that was a good thing. He didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to know. He was being an asshole, but he didn’t care. There was no choice.

Finally, without a word, she turned, the dark hallway swallowing her up. The bedroom door shut with a quiet click. It would have been better somehow if she’d slammed it, because then he could try to justify his anger. Instead all he felt was empty.

* * *

Creed couldn’t sleep. The world was silent around him, the house dark, the only light an orange glow from the embers in the fireplace. Occasionally he’d hear an animal outside, an owl or, once, a high-pitched screech of something being injured or killed. He knew he needed rest—there was no way he’d be good to drive hundreds of miles the next day without some sleep.

But he was wound up, anxious and angry. Pissed at himself for letting things go too far with Nina. Pissed for not letting them go further. He should never have crossed that line between friendship and something more. Hell, even friendship with her was too much involvement. His original plan to get her to her family and then head out on his own was the best plan. The only plan.

Still, he felt conflicted. Angry that he’d hurt her. That he’d been a dick.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair. What was Nina doing? Was she sleeping? Or was she, too, lying awake wondering what had just happened, wondering how he’d gone from kissing her to being a complete and total asshole?

He got up, shone his flashlight down the hallway. Waking her up would be a shitty thing to do, but he needed to apologize and he didn’t want to wait for morning. That’s all he would do. Wake her up, say he was sorry, admit he was an asshole, and leave. Then he could get some sleep.

Outside her room he hesitated, one hand on the doorknob. He was being a pussy.
Man the fuck up
, he thought.
Just go in there
.

Instead he headed back to the couch to toss and turn till morning.

–Nina–

Sunlight streamed through the worn-thin white curtains on the bedroom window, and Nina stretched and yawned. Thank god they could leave today. Being on the motorcycle meant she and Creed didn’t have to talk, which was the last thing she wanted to do with him. Humiliation tinged the anger she felt about what had happened the previous night.

After pulling on her clothes, she headed to the kitchen. The back door was open, and he was on the porch drinking coffee from a steaming mug. He was leaning back against the porch rail, one denim-clad leg crossed casually over the other, as he stared into the distance.

Taking a deep breath, she headed outside.

“Morning,” said Creed, gesturing at the camping pot of coffee and an extra mug he’d set on the porch railing. He didn’t even look at her.

“Morning.” Nina poured herself a cup of the thick coffee and held it, warming her hands. “So. You ready to get out of here?”

In response, Creed gestured at the sky behind them, and Nina’s heart sank when she saw dark clouds looming, a contrast to the sun in front of them.

“Dammit,” she hissed. She didn’t want to wait here any longer. She needed to know what had happened to her family, and sitting around a house with Creed and his weird moods wasn’t helping. “I think we should go anyway. Get as far as we can and then find a place to stay if the weather gets bad.”

Creed looked at her for a long time, and she hated that she had to wait for him to agree, that she was dependent on him. If only she’d learned how to ride a motorcycle and had one of her own; then she could take off whenever she wanted. For a second she imagined doing just that, imagined the freedom she’d feel as the wind blew her hair back and she embraced the adventure.

She was surprised, though, to feel a leaden sadness too as she pictured leaving Creed behind and never seeing him again.
Not good
, she thought.
This isn’t what I’m supposed to be feeling. I can’t trust him. I can’t trust anyone. And he’s an asshole anyway.

“Alright.” He lifted one corner of his mouth in a half-smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Really? I seriously didn’t think you’d agree with me. You giving in pretty much calls for a celebration.”

Creed looked at her hard, his brown eyes intense in the morning light. “You act like I’m some sort of uncompromising asshole, sweetheart,” he said, a slight drawl to his voice.

“If the shoe fits…” Nina smiled back at his smirk. Banter with Creed felt normal, unlike the weirdness the night before, when he ran hot as fire then cold as well water in a matter of minutes.

“Well, you’re no ray of sunshine yourself.”

“I don’t think you mind, Creed. I can’t see you with a smiley girl who loves glitter and agrees with everything you say. I think she’d drive you crazy.”

“And you think you
don’t
drive me crazy?” As soon as he said it he froze for a split second, as though he’d realized another way his words could be interpreted. And as though that’s what he actually meant by them.

“Do I?” asked Nina quietly. “Drive you crazy?” She felt breathless.

“Your smart mouth is infuriating,” said Creed, looking straight at her. “And your sarcasm, sweetheart, drives me up a fucking wall. But you know what really makes me crazy?” he asked, taking one huge stride so his body was up against hers.

“What?” Nina whispered.

“That you’re so goddamn stubborn,” he said, stepping back with a smirk on his face.

Fuck. Him. Nina flushed with embarrassment at the thought that he’d got her so turned on, so ready for something, and then just messed with her head. Again.
Asshole
, she thought, fuming, as she stalked into the kitchen.

“Hey, hey!” Creed called after her. He grabbed her arm.

She pulled away and set her coffee cup on the table, then crossed both arms across her chest.

“I’m sorry, Nina. I was just playing with you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sick of it, Creed. Since we’re kind of stuck together, at least we could be respectful of one another, OK?”

He put his hands up in defeat, but Nina wasn’t done.

“You can’t act one way, then another, without giving me a clue as to what you’re thinking. Like last night? We were about to... you know... and then you were so angry at me. For no reason. It’s like sometimes you’re funny, and sometimes you’re a dick, and sometimes you’re nice, relatively, at least, and I never know which version of you I’m going to get! You need to tell me what’s going on with you, Creed. It’s not fair to be an asshole without any reason or explanation.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s it?”

“I said I was sorry.” He stood across the room from her, his muscular arms crossed in front of him, legs slightly parted.

His hair was getting longer, and he hadn’t shaved today, so his jaw was rough with scruff. He looked part bodybuilder, part mountain man, and despite her anger, Nina couldn’t help thinking about how big he was, how capable of picking her up easily, dominating her, having his way with her. Which was a ridiculous thought right now because she was mad at him, but hell if things didn’t have to make sense all the time. What was wrong with letting her mind run a little wild every once in a while?

“I don’t want an apology,” she muttered, unsure of exactly it was she did want. Her thoughts were muddled, anger and desire and sadness warring for space in her brain.

“Then what do you want, Nina?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I want you to be honest with me.”

“About what?”

“Everything, Creed! All we’ve got is each other right now. If we can’t be real together, then we’ve both got absolutely nothing! I need you to just be... I don’t know... open.”

Creed looked away, gazing out the window above the kitchen sink. Yellowed curtains decorated with blue and orange flowers were pulled back and hooked over nails someone had hammered into the sills. When he looked back at Nina, his face had changed. His eyes were darker than normal, an intensity she hadn’t seen before leaving her breathless.

“You want open, Nina?” He took a step toward her.

Instinctively Nina backed up.

“How’s this for open?” Creed quickly covered the space between them until he was standing directly in front of her. “From the moment I saw you,
Nina
, even after you tried to kill me and steal my motorcycle, I have wanted to destroy these lips with mine.” He reached out a rough and callused finger and ran it across her lower lip.

Nina drew in a breath, then darted her tongue out to lick his finger, the hitch in his breath when she did shooting a dart of desire between her legs. She sucked his finger into her mouth and watched his eyes close slightly, heard a soft groan in his throat.

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice raspy now. “I have wanted to take your shirt like this and rip it off.” He grasped the bottom hem of her tank top, tugging it up and over her head. He hissed when he saw she had nothing on under it, her nipples hard. Dark. Ready. But he didn’t touch her. And he didn’t kiss her. Instead he stood still, gazing at her, naked from the waist up.

“Creed,” Nina whispered, but he shook his head.

“You know what else I’ve wanted?” he asked but didn’t wait for a response. “I’ve wanted to get you out of your fucking jeans. Like this.” He moved his body right up against hers, pushing her backwards so she was pressed against the wall. Nina’s eyes closed, her lips tingling with desire to feel his kiss.

But still he didn’t kiss her. Instead, his fingers found the fly of her jeans, and she closed her eyes, breathing in deeply, as he roughly unbuttoned, then unzipped, her jeans. The cold air kissed her legs as he pushed the denim down, and she stepped out of her jeans so she was clad only in her panties.

“And your panties? Goddammit, Nina, I’ve wanted to rip them off your body.” He grasped the flimsy fabric, pulling harshly, and Nina uttered a brief cry of pain as the material cut across her hip before it gave and her underwear were off, torn to pieces by Creed’s greedy hands.

She was about to object that she had a limited number of panties, but his lips finally met hers, crushing them, and she moaned, her body growing limp against his. As if sensing that would happen, Creed pulled her to him, then lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom. He half placed, half threw her onto the bed.

Nina watched in silence as he pulled off his T-shirt, awed, as always, by the sleek muscles of his tattooed chest, those hard abs, the V that dipped down into his jeans, which he was now removing. He was even more gorgeous, not less, because of the scars on his body, marks of bravery and pain and strength, and Nina wanted to touch them, kiss them, dart her tongue over them.

Now, in just a tight pair of boxer briefs, she could see how hard he was, and how impossibly huge. He looked directly into her eyes as he slowly pushed his underwear down and off, and she broke their gaze to look at his gigantic cock, straining up, veined and bigger than any she’d ever seen before.

Nina had never used the word “beautiful” in reference to a penis before, but it was definitely one of the words that sprang into her mind. Creed’s cock was thick; she was sure she wouldn’t be able to fit one hand all the way around it. It was long, too. The head was rounded, and even in the dim room she could see pre-cum glistening on the tip like a pearl, inviting her to touch it, to draw her finger through it and down the incredible length of him, measuring him with his slick fluid.

What would it feel like inside her? It would stretch her with its girth, fill her deeper than she’d thought possible. Her pussy clenched at the thought, and she felt warmth and wetness gather between her legs.

“Since we’re being all open and honest here, sweetheart,” said Creed, taking a step closer to the bed. “I have wanted to fuck you since we met. I’ve thought about how wet and tight your pussy would feel. I’ve jerked off to thoughts of you sucking my dick, imagining what your lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. You know. Since you want the truth and all.” He was grinning at her, half joking but seriousness evident in his intense stare.

Asshole
, thought Nina, because he was teasing her. But her body didn’t care. Every inch of her was turned on, ready, wanting nothing more than for Creed to come closer.

“What makes you think I’d be interested in any of that?” she uttered, trying to sound like a bad-ass but the sarcasm falling short since she could barely breathe.

“This.” Creed was on top of her in a second, his huge body above hers as his hand pushed her legs apart to feel her hot, wet pussy. “You’re wet, baby. You were wet before I even touched you. That’s what makes me think you’d be interested.”

“Oh,” murmured Nina as his hands continued to move, his fingers gently—too gently—gliding just a bit into her pussy, then pulling back again. He was exploring her slick folds but purposely—she was sure it was intentional—avoiding her clit, which was throbbing with need.

“Or maybe I’m wrong?” He stopped suddenly, pulling back his hand.

Nina whimpered, her desire for him to keep touching her intense.

“I thought so,” he said smugly. This time when he touched her he pressed a finger to her clit, moving it gently in circles.

Nina felt her body writhe against his hand. She couldn’t help it. He felt so good touching her, but he stopped again. “Please,” she begged.

“Please what?” he teased.

“Please keep touching me.”

“I will. But only if you tell me what you’ve thought about me. In the interest of our new openness, of course.”

“Oh. Well,” she said, trying to focus on her words despite his fingers working magic between her legs. “At first I wanted to kill you.”

He sank a finger deep inside her, and she groaned loudly, the sound so loud in the stillness of the house.

“Creed! God,” she gasped as he withdrew his finger and tapped it against her clit.

“Keep talking,” he urged, his voice deep, almost a growl.

“I thought you were really hot,” she whispered. “I thought about how you must be huge.”

“What exactly did you think was huge? Say it.”

“Your, uh, cock. I was sure you’d have a huge cock,” she murmured as he touched her clit more firmly, the need inside growing stronger and stronger.

“And were you disappointed?”

“No. It’s even bigger than I imagined, Creed.”

“What do you think it’s going to feel like inside you, sweetheart?” He kissed her now, his lips hungry, needy.

“So big,” she muttered against his mouth. “So big and hard.”

He growled, kissing her harder, then moving down her body to her breasts. His beard scratched against her skin, and she shivered, desire coursing through her. Creed took one nipple in his mouth, biting gently but pulling at the same time, leaving Nina a writhing body of need under him. At the same time he pinched her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending electric shocks straight to her clit.

Creed moved down her body, placing his huge hands on her open thighs as he kissed her lower stomach, then drew a line with his tongue over her hot skin, lower and lower. “Creed,” she whispered. “Oh god, Creed.”