Afterglow: An Apocalypse Romance (15 page)

“So, I guess I’ll just go ahead and get dressed...” She let her voice trail off, hoping Creed would take the hint.

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m going to clean you first.”

“Am I that dirty?” OK, so she was. She wasn’t exactly smelling her best, and cleaning up would feel great. But there was no running water in this house, no well outside, so how did Creed propose to bathe her?

“I found a pack of baby wipes in the bathroom.”

“Oh.” On a rational level, Nina realized she should be horrified that a baby once lived here in this house, a baby that was now surely dead. But maybe she was too tired right now. Or maybe she was growing cold to the realities of this new world and was able to compartmentalize, to push the thought into another part of her brain.

“I thought after everything that happened today...” Creed sounded uncharacteristically shy, as though he wasn’t sure how she’d react to his proposal.

He was right, though. The thought of a clean cloth wiping away the layer of sweat and grime and horror of the past day filled her with desire. “I’d love that,” she whispered. “Please. Get it all off of me. I need it gone.”

“Lie back.” Creed gently pushed her, still clad in the blanket, so she was lying on the couch. He sat on the edge of the couch leaning over her, then pulled a wipe from the pack. “Close your eyes,” he murmured, his voice husky and low.

Nina felt the cool touch of the cloth on her neck, then caressing her cheek, wiping away traces of sweat, dirt, and dried tears. He brushed it over her forehead and then gently over her chin. Back on her neck, Creed cooled her skin gently with the cloth.

The package crinkled as Creed pulled out a new cloth, and air cooled her chest as he parted the blanket to reveal more of her skin. He began to clean her collarbone, then moved lower. Nina held her breath, waiting to feel the crisp sensation on her breasts.

She didn’t have to wait long. Within seconds Creed moved the cloth over her right nipple, lightly rubbing it, then moved to the left one while the right puckered up in the cool air. Her left did too, and a low growl rumbled from Creed.

Still, Nina kept her eyes closed, losing herself in the sensation of Creed gently cleaning her body. With a new wipe he cleaned under her breasts, then down to her waist, swirling around her belly button and moving lower, stopping only when he got to her bikini line. An involuntary gasp escaped Nina’s throat as she waited for the inevitable touch between her legs. Except it never came.

Instead, Creed got off the couch, settling back onto it near her feet, which he cleaned thoroughly, toe by toe.

“Foot fetish?” she managed to joke through her near-coma of relaxation and arousal, a strange and intoxicating mix.

“Just trying to make you feel good.” His voice was so low it was practically a growl, and Nina felt a charge pass through her body, igniting her clit and beginning the throbbing that she knew had only one cure.

“You’re doing a great job,” she murmured.

“Oh yeah?” His voice was cocky as he ran a cool cloth up the outside of her right leg, all the way up her outer thigh to her ass.

She wanted him to squeeze it, but with his gentle touch he only cleaned her, leaving her wanting more. So much more.

He did the same to her other leg. Then the cloth began to run over the inside of her lower leg, and her body twitched, desire refusing to allow her to lie still any longer.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” The drawl in his voice told Nina he knew exactly what was wrong.

“Nothing,” she whispered.

“Should I stop?”

“No. Please don’t.”

He continued to clean her lower legs, then he leaned down, planting kisses on her neck, his beard tickling her skin. “Sweetheart, I need you to open your legs for me. So I can finish cleaning you.”

Oh god
. The way he said it,
I need you to open your legs for me
, shot sparks through her, and her pussy was instantly soaked. Slowly she parted her legs, wanting Creed to stay where he was right on top of her, to touch her wetness, to sink deep inside of her. She didn’t want to wait.

But he retreated, working his way back down. “I can smell you,” he muttered, the cold cloth working its way up the inside of her right thigh. “I can smell how bad you want me.”

Nina sighed, relishing the way it felt to know that sometime soon this man, this big burly sexy man, would be deep inside her, fucking her hard. Except she wanted that right now. Against her will her hips bucked up, wanting Creed to touch her, to feel her, wanting release from the growing desire inside.

He laughed, a deep guttural sound. “I think you’re enjoying your bath,” he murmured, running the cloth up farther to rub between her legs, touching her everywhere except her clit, which throbbed in need. “But you need to be patient, sweetheart. I’m not finished washing you yet.” Now he moved down once more, starting at her left knee and working his way up, gently rubbing the cloth over her leg, higher and higher until he gently brushed it over her pussy.

“I’m clean, Creed,” she whispered. “I’m all clean now.”

“I don’t know,” he said, and now his fingers were on her pussy, exploring her sopping wet folds, teasing her flesh until she thought she couldn’t take it anymore. “I think,” he continued, “I might have missed a spot.” He moved closer still, licking her clit hard with his rough tongue, so hard that she gasped loudly into the dark room.

“Oh god,” she whispered. “Oh Creed. That feels so good.”

His tongue found a perfect pattern of movement, pushing her clit in circles, then sucking it, then circles again while his fingers deftly moved in and out of her wetness. How could somebody make her feel this good? How could he know exactly what she liked? It was like he was meant for her, she thought in a moment of desire and near-delirium, her body so open and wet and ready for him.

Soon the pace of her breathing picked up and all the muscles in her legs clenched as she felt an orgasm swelling inside her. And then Creed stopped.

“Oh! No! Creed,” she moaned, writhing beneath him.

“God, sweetheart, you taste like heaven. But I need to be inside you right. This fucking second.” With that he was on top of her, thrusting inside, his mouth meeting hers so she could taste the salty flavor of her own desire.

She cried out at the sudden invasion, at how full her pussy stretched to accommodate his gigantic cock. She met his rhythm thrust for thrust, taking him deep inside, feeling the orgasm that had just eluded her returning, the tension building fast in her body until she was filled with sensations, until she climaxed hard. Her pussy squeezed his cock over and over while she cried out again and again.

“Fuck, Nina,” uttered Creed, and he throbbed inside her as he, too, orgasmed.

He collapsed on top of her, their harsh breathing completely synchronized for a few moments. Eventually Creed lifted his weight off of Nina, his arms hard on either side of her. In the flickering light from the fire Nina could make out a compass tattooed on his arm, intricate and detailed. She traced it with her finger.

“What does this one mean?” she asked.

Creed hesitated, and for a second Nina felt like she shouldn’t have asked, but then he shifted their bodies in one quick motion so he was sitting in the crook of the couch, Nina on his lap with his arms wrapped around her.

“I got that one for my parents. It was the first tattoo I got, my senior year of high school. My dad had this cheesy thing he always said, and my sister and I made fun of it. He said my mom was his compass, that because of her, he always knew where to go and what to do. She made him the man he was. Leslie and I joked about it all the time, but when they died...”

“They died? When you were in high school?” How had she not known that?

“Yeah. Car accident.” His words were even, but Nina felt a small tremor in his right bicep, the tiny movement giving away much more than she knew Creed wanted to.

“Oh my god, Creed. I’m sorry that happened. How old was Leslie?”

“Sixteen. She was so messed up after that. Got into drugs and started hanging out with a rough crowd. I was eighteen, but we went to live with my grandparents, and they did the best they could, but it was a dark time. For all of us.” He was silent for a few minutes. Finally he said, “So I got the tattoo. The compass. Because it was important to them, and because I thought it would be a reminder to me to be a good person, like they were.”

“What’s the last tattoo you got?”

“The cat.”

Nina found it, an artistic rendition of a cat, decorated with swirling and detailed designs. “It’s pretty,” she whispered, tracing this one too. “What does it mean?”

“I got it for Kaylee. My niece.”

“That’s sweet.” Nina smiled, even though she felt sad thinking about Kaylee, dead like almost everyone else from the virus.

“When I came to live with them after her father died, she loved to look at my tattoos. She kept telling me I needed to get one of a cat. So I did.” He hesitated for a few seconds before continuing. “I miss her. She was a funny kid. Shy to everyone when she first met them, but when she got to know you? Watch out.”

The softness in his voice when he spoke about Kaylee almost broke Nina’s heart. He’d been through so much, she realized. He’d lost so many people. His parents. His best friend. Then his sister and his niece. She’d never lost anyone close to her and was counting on her family still being alive. Loss like that undoubtedly changed a person in ways she couldn’t yet understand on anything other than an intellectual level.

“I’ve never lost anyone close to me,” Nina said quietly. “Not yet, at least. Or not that I know about yet.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve lost every single person I’ve cared about.” Creed’s voice was suddenly bitter, a complete change from the soft tone he’d had just moments before.

Nina opened her mouth to say something; what, exactly, she wasn’t sure.

But Creed spoke first. “You know what I promised myself, when I realized Leslie and Kaylee were dead? I was half dead myself, barely able to pull their bodies down the stairs and out into the yard so I could bury them. I promised myself that was it. I was done losing people. Loving people. That saying, about how it’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all? It’s bullshit, Nina. Trust me.”

Something inside Nina sank at his words, as she realized how cold and final they were. It wasn’t that she thought he was in love with her. OK, so she had, or at least she’d hoped he was. Just a little bit, at least. She’d finally admitted to herself how she felt about him.

But to hear him say he wouldn’t—couldn’t—ever love someone again made her heart feel like it was literally breaking, like something in it would never work quite right again. And the worst part was she couldn’t blame him. She couldn’t ask him to make an exception for her, not after knowing how much loss he’d suffered in his life. Who wouldn’t feel the way he did about love?

“It’s time to get some sleep,” Creed said, gently but firmly pushing Nina off him.

Nina didn’t know how to respond, didn’t like the way things had turned cold so quickly. She understood, but still it didn’t feel very good. With a sigh of resignation she pulled on the clothes Creed had found for her. The jeans, as anticipated, were much too long, so she folded the bottoms up. The waist was a little loose, but she could find a belt, or something to use as a belt, in the morning.

“Let’s sleep in here,” Creed was saying, spreading another comforter he’d found on the floor, then throwing a few more pieces of busted-up furniture on the fire. “It’s warm. I’ll keep the fire going.”

“OK.”

“I’ll take the floor.” Creed lay down on the blanket he’d spread out. He’d pulled his jeans on but wasn’t wearing a shirt, and in the glow from the fire he was absolutely gorgeous, all hard muscles and lean flesh, his tattoos so intricate and beautiful, Nina knew now, with meaning. Many of them about loss. She wanted more than anything to lie down next to him, to curl up in his arms and fall asleep. But he’d made it clear he needed his space. So she returned to the couch where she cuddled into the comforter and squeezed her eyes shut.

* * *

In the middle of the night Nina awoke to Creed muttering, thrashing back and forth in his sleep. The fire was going strong, so Nina knew he must have put more wood on it recently. He was having a nightmare, muttering words she couldn’t make out but that were filled with fear.

“Creed,” she whispered from the couch, hoping to wake him up enough to relieve him of the nightmare. But he continued to toss and turn.

Nina got off the couch and knelt next to Creed’s body. “Hey,” she whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder. “It’s just a dream. It’s OK.”

His body started, then calmed, and his eyes flickered open. “Nina?”

“You were having a bad dream, Creed,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep.” She got up to return to the couch, but Creed grabbed her hand before she stood.

“Stay. Stay with me.” He pulled her down so she was lying next to him, then folded his huge arms around her, capturing her.

This. This felt good. Right. Nina settled into his arms, against his hard body, and fell asleep to the beat of his heart.

* * *