Afterglow: An Apocalypse Romance (9 page)

He caught her eye through the window.

“Shit,” she whispered, blushing and sitting back down.

A second later the front door opened. “Enjoying the show?”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

But while he worked out in the rain, all her attempts to read were in vain. Against her will, her eyes kept looking up, glancing to the window, hoping for just one glimpse of those shoulders, those arms, that rock-hard chest. Wet. Big. Straining hard.

–Creed–

Creed peeled off his wet jeans and underwear, toweling off quickly in front of the fire. It was midday but looked like night outside, the heavy storm clouds directly over them now. Nina was in the bedroom changing out of her wet clothes. She’d come out while he was flipping an old tire he’d found near a shed. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and she said she was checking the sheds for supplies. He hated to admit he was glad his muscles were burning, straining, looking bigger than ever. It was fucking ridiculous that he cared how he looked, but he couldn’t help the urge to impress her.

The rain started up in earnest then, pounding both of them with sheets of water, and they ran to the house, where Nina was undoubtedly now taking off her soaked clothes. Her nipples were probably rock hard from being wet in the cool air. He imagined her struggling out of her damp jeans.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he grew hard. Grunting in frustration, he pulled on dry clothes, then spread his wet ones out on the coffee table pushed close to the fire.

A few minutes later, Nina came out of the bedroom, clutching tight to a blanket wrapped around her. She had her wet clothes in her other hand. “Both my sets of clothes are wet,” she muttered. “From the rain, and the other ones from a drip in the ceiling that just happened to be right above them.”

So what did she have on under the blanket? Creed forced his thoughts away from that question as he grabbed her clothes and spread them out on the floor in front of the fire.

“They’ll dry,” he said. “You warm enough?”

“Yeah.”

She curled up in the corner of the couch, carefully covering herself with the blanket, and he sank down on the other end of the sofa. She wouldn’t be naked under the blanket.
Would she?
At least she’d have on panties. And a bra. But maybe…

Fuck. Stop
. He cleared his throat, feeling awkward, like he needed to make small talk. He’d never have guessed making conversation would be a skill he’d need during an apocalypse. “So, you’re a seventh grade teacher, right?”

“Was. I was a seventh grade teacher.”

“You liked it?”

“Loved it. Yeah.” There was wistfulness in her voice.

“So what? You taught during the day. Jogged in the evenings. Took, what? Martial arts classes? Jiu-jitsu? Something, ‘cause you can fight like a fucking demon. Went to the movies with your girlfriends on the weekends. Sometimes tried wine bars. Set up a profile on some dating website but never actually used it…”

“Excuse me, but I never set up a profile on a dating website.”

Creed laughed at the indignation in her voice. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“What makes you think you know so much about me anyway?”

He shrugged. “Am I wrong?”

“No, just…”

“I bet I know your type too.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me, Creed. What’s my type?”

Creed smiled. She was getting worked up, and he was enjoying it. “The last guy you dated was… let me think… an accountant. At first he seemed interesting because he was smart—you like smart guys—but after a few dates you realized he was really boring. And he was an awful kisser.”

Nina didn’t respond, but her forehead crinkled.

“I’m right. I know it. Come on, Nina. Tell me the truth.”

She rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t an accountant.” She was silent for a few seconds. Then she burst out laughing. “He was a financial analyst! And he was the worst kisser ever. His mouth was really dry, and he moved his lips in this weird way, like a fish.” She pushed her lips out opened and closed them quickly.

Creed chuckled. “Told you I could guess your type.”

“That’s just one guy. Not a
type
.”

He shrugged. “I bet they all bored you, though, didn’t they, sweetheart? You strike me as the type who can take care of herself. You want to be in control. But at the same time, you need someone who won’t let you walk all over him.”

“You strike me as the type who thinks he knows more than he does.”

“Am I wrong?”

“How is this any of your business?” She scowled at him. “So what’s your type, then, since you think you’ve got mine all nailed down.”

“Don’t have one.”

“Equal opportunity dater?”

“Pretty much.” He shrugged.

“I bet you,” said Nina, “avoid relationships like the plague.” She gave him an assessing look. “You have that extra helmet to take girls for rides on your motorcycle, impress them with your virility and masculinity, but once you’re done with them, you push them out the door.”

Fuck. She was right. He enjoyed women, but ever since getting back from Iraq, he’d wanted nothing to do with emotional attachments. Hearing it out loud, though, sounded pretty awful.

“Am I wrong?” This time she was the one asking.

“Either we’re both open books or we’re both armchair psychologists,” said Creed.

“So I was right?” she asked, almost gleefully. “Love ‘em and leave ‘em?”

“But I never led anyone on,” he added, wanting to make that part clear. “I was honest from the very beginning.”

“So it’s OK to be a dick as long as you tell them you’re going to first?”

“Seriously? I wasn’t treating anyone like a dick. It’s OK for two adults to have a casual sexual relationship if that’s what they’re after. Don’t tell me you’re that much of a prude.”

Nina put her hands up. “I’m sorry.” She sounded like she meant it. “You’re right. I just like teasing you. And for your information, I’m not a prude.”

“So you and Fish Lips got all wild and crazy, huh?”

“Shut up!” Nina grabbed a throw pillow and swung it at him.

Creed laughed loudly as he threw up his arms to defend himself.

Nina settled back down, stretching her legs out in front of her and resting her feet on the coffee table.

Creed’s laughter stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away, not even if someone had held a gun to his fucking head.

Nina’s legs were bare, glowing in the light from the fire. Firm, muscled, the swell of her calves strong but sweet. It took all of his strength not to move closer, not to reach out his hand to caress the soft skin just above her knee.

He cursed inwardly at his weakness for her, at the fact that a mere hint of skin could get his entire body on edge.

“Anyway,” she said. “I’m going to go get something to drink. You want anything?” She stood up, holding the blanket closed with one hand.

“Nah, I’m good.”

She shrugged and turned to go, and for no good reason except acting like a thirteen-year-old playing pranks, he stood up and stepped on the end of her blanket that trailed on the floor, so as she walked away, it fell right off.

For a second she stood still, and all Creed could see was her ass, perfectly round, partially covered by a pair of black panties. She was gorgeous from behind, her long red curls falling down past her shoulders, which were covered only with the thin straps of her tank top. The dark fabric clung to her back and waist, and then that
ass
. It curved back at him, begging for him to reach out and touch it, grab it. Except he knew she’d be pissed.

She was probably already pissed, and there was no way she’d believe the lie that stepping on the end of her blanket had been an accident. He braced himself for an onslaught of curse words as, slowly, she turned around.

Nina didn’t yell at him, though. Instead she stood there, her hair looking like fire in the glow from the flames. There was just enough light so he could tell she was staring right into his eyes.

That feeling. That instant when you know the other person wants you too, and just as fucking hard.

Creed felt his whole body pulse, his cock harden fast, as he waited to see what would happen next. He could make the move, but he wanted to wait a second to see if Nina would do it first. Like everything with Nina, it was a game, a challenge.

She took one step forward, moving closer to him, and that was all he needed to move closer to her, just near enough so that their bodies were almost touching. But not quite.

“Nina,” he growled, reaching out one finger to trace it along her shoulder and down her arm. He could feel her tremble under his touch. He could smell her desire, he swore he could, and it made him drunk and lightheaded, like there wasn’t enough air to breathe in this house. In the entire world.

“Creed,” she whispered, and something about his name on her lips made him even harder.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he muttered, moving a hair’s breadth closer to her, “I didn’t... I don’t...” He wasn’t sure what he meant to say, and his words trailed off.

“I know,” she whispered, reaching out and running her hand up under his T-shirt, feeling along his chest gently, her fingers delicate and cool on his skin.

When her hand moved lower, touching the skin just above the rise of his jeans, he couldn’t stand it anymore. Grasping a handful of her luscious curls, he turned her head upward and bent down, his lips harsh against hers as they kissed. A moan escaped her lips, the sound traveling instantly to his throbbing dick. He bit her bottom lip, then kissed her like he was starving, his tongue finding hers, his body mad with desire.

Nina kissed him back hard, like she meant it, and when her body moved closer still to his, when she ground against him, he felt like he could come just from kissing her. The skin of her stomach, when he ran a hand under her tank top, was smooth and hot, and he spread his hand open wide, feeling as much of her at once as he could. He moved his fingers up until he touched the underside of her breast, then cupped it, roughly playing with her nipple with his thumb. He needed to taste her. Yanking her tank top up over her breasts, he bent his head, sucking on her nipple, then moving to the other one.

Nina threw her head back, releasing more of the sweet smell of her hair. As he kissed her neck, then bit it gently, she moaned once more. His name, whispered from her lips, was an aphrodisiac, and Creed’s blood heated up, desire coursing through his veins hotter than lava. He grasped her ass in his hands, feeling the perfect roundness he’d wanted to touch for days now, and pulled her toward him hard, his cock swelling against her body.

They kissed again, and he could feel Nina’s hunger in the way her mouth opened so willingly for him, in the way her tongue met his immediately, in the sudden softening of her body against his, like she was saying
yes
without speaking.

She slipped a hand between them, running it over the denim that covered his rock-hard cock. “Nina,” he hissed at her touch, wanting more, wanting to feel her soft hand against his bare skin.

Nina took one step backward, then pulled the tank top that he’d pushed up earlier over her head, tossing it onto the floor. She stood before him in only her black panties, her body pale, those thick red curls coursing down past her shoulders. Her breasts were round, perfect milky handfuls, and her nipples were small, hard, and dark. He gazed at her stomach, then lower, past her belly button, to the skin just above her black underwear, her hips curving into muscular legs that he planned to have wrapped around him as soon as humanly possible. He thought of those legs squeezing him as he plunged into her again and again.

There was no holding back now. He pulled her toward him once more, greedily reaching between her legs and pushing the damp fabric of her panties aside so he could finally feel her pussy, already so warm and wet. Groaning in desire, he held back, touching her lightly, too lightly, he knew, and she rubbed her body against his trying to gain friction. Keeping his touch light, he found her swollen clit, skimming over it with his index finger just enough to elicit a moan from her gorgeous mouth.

“Creed,” she whispered again, and he devoured her mouth, kissing her hard and fast, plunging one finger deep inside her so she gasped into the kiss. She was wet, so wet, and his only thought was how good it would feel to finally thrust his cock inside her.

He was about to pick her up, carry her to the bedroom, when a loud creaking sound outside on the front door stopped them both. Someone was on the porch.

“Get down, Nina,” he whispered, gesturing to the couch, hoping she’d crouch behind it while he checked out the noise outside. He grabbed his gun from the coffee table, then, keeping low, darted to the front door.

The adrenaline from making out with Nina had quickly morphed into the adrenaline of danger, and he flattened himself against the wall next to the window. Slowly he pushed the curtain back just an inch with the muzzle of his gun, just enough so he could see outside.

He could just make out the shape of an animal’s long skinny legs as the deer looked toward the window, then bolted off into the darkness.

With a sigh of relief, he let the curtain fall back into place. “It’s just a deer.” He took a few deep breaths, the exhilaration of danger falling away.

When he turned back to Nina, he expected to see her down low, staying relatively safe while he checked out the situation. But there she stood, in only those black panties, lowering her gun. She’d been ready to back him up.

There was something about her, almost naked with a firearm, that was sexy. But in that second he saw something vulnerable in her too, and his heart clenched. He liked sexy, but vulnerable gave him pause.