Die For You: Catastrophe Series, Book 1 (7 page)

He let go of her hair and pushed back slightly, letting her stand on her own. His eyes tracked her, glittering like chips of hard black rock.

She gulped down breaths in an effort to remain quiet. Her stomach fluttered, squeezed with nervousness.

Who was this man? Was this the same man she’d spent the last three days with? He seemed like someone entirely different. Wasn’t this what he’d been trying to tell her, that she didn’t really know him at all?

And, yeah, she didn’t.

“Is this what you want, Rachel? Voyeurism?”

She didn’t say a word, didn’t answer, just swallowed hard, her heart hammering in her chest as she continued to look at him, stare at him, secretly ashamed. Ashamed because, no matter how fast her heart beat, how much she feared that look in his eyes, the fact remained that her panties were soaking wet and she wanted him desperately. She lifted her chin and continued to meet his gaze, refusing to look away, to show the fear that bubbled inside. She wasn’t a wimp, and she was starting to clue in she never had been.

His eyes flashed, and she suspected he understood what her body wanted but her mouth was unable to say. A growl rumbled in his chest. Suddenly, she was pinned against the Hummer again, both her hands over her head caught in his iron grip. His lips dove into her neck. She sighed at the rush of delight that raced through her body. “Do you like this?” he asked as he licked her skin. “Is this what you want?”

Her tummy clenched at his raw masculine power.
Oh, yes, she did.
All man, strong and sexy, muscles and brawn. She loved it. Loved every movement of his tall, bronzed body. A line of perspiration ran between her breasts. He pressed his erection against her stomach again, which sent red-hot signals to all her erogenous zones.

Omigod. It was wonderful.

Her mind snapped back to his list of requirements, to the idea of having sex with someone other than Adam, with Adam watching. He’d said that, hadn’t he? Along with all the other stuff, he’d said he wanted to watch while other men fucked her.

Uh oh.
Rachel tensed. Nervousness fluttered in her chest. Sexual energy drained away, her entire focus reverting to the idea of how she might be passed around like a sex toy. This gorgeous man was restraining her, in a way she found surprisingly hot, but all she could think about was what if he let every other man they met have sex with her? Suddenly, she wasn’t turned on so much anymore—like she’d been doused with another bucket of ice-cold Alaskan water.

“Adam.” Fear finally bled into her voice. “I can’t. Please.” Air puffed in and out of her chest. She was completely freaked out.

Adam cursed and instantly let go, stepping back.

“Do you even know what you want?” he snapped. “I’m the only man you’ve seen alive since the end of the outbreak. Have you ever thought that maybe you want me because you’re desperate for connection, for companionship? That you’re lonely? Are you sure I’m the right man for you? Right now, you’ve got choice. This isn’t your thing, it doesn’t turn you on. You don’t want it that way, that’s fine. You’re a virgin, you’ve never had a man inside you before, and I haven’t fucked you yet, so if we meet other men and you want to leave and go with someone else, that’s your choice. But know this—” he pointed a finger at her, “—if you start something with me, that choice is gone. I don’t play. What’s mine is mine.”

Her brain was so melted with sexual tension she wasn’t sure what to do, how to react. Part of her wanted to run away and hide, scared of him and what he was proposing. Part of her wanted to yell out,
Hell yes, fuck me now!
Both parts warred with each other, fighting for dominance.

“Babe,” he whispered, his jaw a hard, firm line.

What to say. What should she say? That kiss had been brilliant and he was hot as hell, but she still wasn’t sure if she wanted this. What man allowed other men to have sex with his girlfriend and enjoyed it?

Adam. Adam did.

She swallowed. “Can I think about it?”

He froze. The light leeched out of his eyes. His hands dropped like weights.

“Wait, I’m not saying no.” She grabbed his wrist and looked earnestly into his eyes. “I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t know if that’s what I want.”

He jerked away and took a step back. “Having to think about it means no. You needed to hear that, imagine what it would be like so you could decide. And now I know, you’re scared outta your fucking mind. You’ve made your choice. It’s better to know now, for both of us.”

“Let me think about it. Let me figure out what to do, what I want.”

“Rachel, you’re scared. I don’t do scared. I’ve been down that road before, and I won’t do it again. If you can’t stand the heat, you need to get out of the kitchen. You and I, we don’t suit. That’s what I was trying to tell you. We’re not right for each other. And this—” he gestured between the two of them, “—is
not
happening.”

Chapter Nine

Adam snapped his fingers. “Hop to it, Rachel. I could use some help here.”

Rachel disconnected from her daydream where Adam was a normal guy she’d met in college, maybe in Art Appreciation class, and blinked back to the harsh reality of her new life. The world had ended, and the ex-Marine sniper she was traveling with was on the ground, siphoning gas from an abandoned car.

Typical day.

She bent down and handed Mr. Bossy Pants an empty red plastic container and stepped clear. Thoughts swirled in her mind. Lately, she’d come to the stark realization that she’d been completely unprepared for this disaster. Completely unprepared. And it pissed her off.

“Too bad we weren’t religious fanatics, preparing for the end of days,” she chatted. “Don’t you think that would have come in handy? Or even if I’d just been an overly cautious prepper, we could be living in a fully stocked bug-out shelter right now.”

“Oh, fuck no,” Adam replied from under the minivan they’d found on Highway 99 with a full tank of gas. “I’m happy with you just the way you are. The last thing I need is to be saddled with a raving lunatic who thinks we brought the apocalypse on ourselves.” He patted the asphalt, tanned fingers groping for his screwdriver. “Goddammit. Where is it? Rachel? Hand me the—”

“Here,” She slapped it into his hand with the efficiency of a surgical nurse. “You like me just the way I am? You don’t wish I were different?”

“Huh?” The tool punctured the gas tank and fuel splashed into the container. “Yeah, I like you just the way you are. Why wouldn’t I?”

Her mouth went dry. For the last few days, she’d taken that memory of how he’d told her she was beautiful and petted it, using it to get through each terrifying hour as they’d traveled through dead city after dead city. And now he was telling her he liked her just the way she was? Wow. She leaned back against the van, stunned. No one but her dad had ever thought about her that way. She’d been overweight since the age of eleven. Her first boyfriend at fifteen years old had summed up the general consensus—
“If you lost weight, Rachel, you’d be beautiful.”

That one still stung. And for some reason, she’d believed it. She’d always felt that losing weight would be the golden ticket to self-esteem. Sadly, she was learning it wasn’t. Dad had always said pride in yourself came from doing, not from the pretty exterior—not that she’d really believed him. Until now. Case in point—she objectified Adam on a daily basis—who wouldn’t?—but when it came right down to it, she admired him most for his tenacity, his hard work and his daily objectives.

Her dad would’ve approved of Adam.

Hmmm…so why wouldn’t Adam like her just the way she was? There were so many reasons. She picked the first one off the top of the pile. “You could not like me because I told you I hate guns and I can’t shoot.”

Not being able to fire a handgun hadn’t mattered one bit during her old life in San Diego. But now? It mattered. It mattered a lot. Like when those dogs had chased her at the rest stop. If she’d been packing, she could have taken care of herself. Instead, she’d had to rely on Adam to save her, which was just embarrassing. She liked to think that she could take care of herself. But could she? Probably not.

The gas continued to drain and Adam remained silent. Her heart squeezed. What the hell was taking him so long to answer?

“I said I’ll teach you how to shoot,” he finally ground out. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
That
wasn’t going to happen—unless he made sure she was drunk or heavily sedated. He’d already tried to teach her twice, both times embarrassing fiascos.

“No, thanks, I’ll stick with the pepper spray you gave me.”

He snorted and reached out for the other receptacle. She kicked it closer and he dragged it under the vehicle. “And anyway, the main reason I don’t want you to change is because I think you’re funny,” he said. “I like your sense of humor. If you changed, that would change too.”

Her brows shot up. “You think I’m funny?”

Talking to two long legs wasn’t working. They were good legs, with muscular thighs as thick as tree trunks and jeans cupping his pelvis in all the right places. But she needed to see his eyes to really know what he was thinking.

“Yes. You’re a laugh a minute,” he said in monotone. “Here, pull these out.” Two heavy containers sloshing with fuel appeared.

She grimaced. Why was he always ruining their moments and pushing her away and not giving her a chance to think?

Goddammit.

Perspiration rolled down the back of her neck. She dragged the tubs out of the way. Adam scooted out from under the car and stood. His lean, bronzed body towered over her like a pro basketball player. Her blood heated and her heart hammered. Again. He was so handsome. She literally had to glance away sometimes, because it was like trying to look directly into the sun.

He smiled down at her. She gulped. His eyes sparkled, actually sparkled and turned into a warm hazelnut brown, the corners crinkling. His perfect white teeth made an appearance between full lips. The scar that ran down the side of his face curved up at the corner of his mouth. She wanted so badly to trace the line with the tip of her finger.

Underneath the bossiness and the dominance was a soft marshmallow core. A heart of gold. And after her ex-boyfriend—the asshole who beat her up—being with a man who respected her wishes to the point where he pushed her away because he thought he wouldn’t be good for her… Well, as weird as it sounded, it made Adam even more desirable.

Her face heated up. She jerked away and pretended to examine the van, not wanting Adam to know she’d turned into a desperate groupie. But how could she not? Those first days she’d been holding her own, admiring him from afar, maintaining their co-worker relationship as they drove from city to city, surprisingly okay with it. But everything had changed after that kiss. That
kiss
. She was living in isolation with a man she lusted after, a man she admired, a man who’d kissed her within an inch of her life and then yanked the passion away. Poof, as if it never happened.

It was almost mean.

She was seriously rethinking her words from three days ago. She often replayed his touch and what he’d said to her, and now that she’d had time to process, it didn’t sound quite so scary. In fact, it was starting to sound pretty darn good. Being told what to do and having all control taken away? Maybe if the man you were with knew what he was doing? Maybe she’d be willing to try it out with a man she trusted.

And what he’d said about other men…did that mean one man or many? She didn’t know what he’d meant by that. Maybe she just needed to ask, get clarification, but she had no idea how to start a conversation like that with him.
Hey Adam, do you plan on passing me around to every guy we meet?
Yeah, she couldn’t pry the embarrassing question out of her mouth.

She couldn’t forget how turned on she’d been while caught in Adam’s arms, his aggressive words in her ear sending a pool of wet between her thighs. Rachel smiled to herself, imaging Adam’s hand on her ass. Spanking her ass? Her belly fluttered again and her body heated up.

Please, Adam, spank me
.

Wow, she was learning all kinds of new things about herself these days, wasn’t she? Learning she could take care of herself. That she
wanted
to learn how to take care of herself. Learning that in this story, she didn’t want to be the heroine who stood by the side, screaming while the hero rescued her. She was becoming completely different from the shy, insecure girl she’d been a few months ago.

All those episodes of
Sex and the City
were starting to make sense.

She chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Adam asked.

She glanced at him and bit her lip. “Oh, nothing.”

God, she needed him. Wanted to sleep in the same bed with him, run her fingers across his ripped torso, to kiss and explore. To wake up in the morning with his warm body pressed against hers. Her breath caught.
Heaven.
They could talk about their plans. Figure out what to do next while cuddling together in a sleeping bag or in a big hotel bed. She was tired of sleeping alone, lying lonely at night, scared out of her mind, wishing Adam were next to her, not in another room or a separate tent, but next to her, holding her close.

His words floated back through her brain.
“I don’t play. What’s mine is mine.”
She shivered. Caught again on that razor edge between fear and desire. It sounded so final. If she started something with Adam she had to be sure, because if they met other survivors, other men, she would still be his, no going back.

Rachel chewed her lip. Did she
want
to have a man who possibly allowed other men into their bed? She twirled a lock of her long, auburn hair. Maybe.

He’d said not one word about the day he’d told her of his sexual preferences, pretending it never happened, reverting back to their previous arrangement—treating her again like a co-worker or a kid sister, and she hated it. No, she detested it. At least before, she hadn’t known what she was missing. Now she did.

Rachel turned back around to face him, trying to hide her frown. Today, she had Dr. Jekyll, safe and protective. Two days ago, Mr. Hyde. The crazy part was she wasn’t sure which one she preferred.

Adam shook his head and wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. “We’ve got fifteen gallons of gas stored in the back. I’m going to fill the tank up with this and then we’re hitting the road and driving to Fresno.” He picked up the plastic containers as if they were toys and strode over to the Hummer.

“Why are we going
there
?” she said from behind him, trying to ignore how freaking hot he looked lugging gasoline as if it were light as air.

He didn’t slow down. “Because we haven’t searched that area yet.”

“You know, at this rate, we’ll have made a complete circle.” In the last three days, they’d left the Bay Area, searched Northern California—as best they could, considering it was only the two of them searching such an immense area—and driven down through Sacramento, heading south through the central valley of California.

It was exhausting.

She just wanted to stay in one place and sleep for two days straight.

“Exactly,” he said as he began pouring gas into their vehicle. “We’ll end up in Bakersfield.”

“And then what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. You have any ideas?”

She opened her mouth then snapped it shut, shocked that he’d actually asked her opinion. A goofy smile tugged at her lips as warmth spread across her chest. He usually told her what to do, not the other way around. “As a matter of fact, I do. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of drifting around like nomads.”

He scowled. “We’re not drifting. We’re systematically searching for survivors.”

“That’s great, but it’s time to stop searching and find somewhere to live.” She braced for his disapproval. Lieutenant Sanchez was essentially a nice man, but oh, he could be stubborn.
My way or the highway.
“You’ll still have your radio. Let them find us from now on.”

“It’s only been six days since you and I met and we started looking. We can’t give up yet. There are other survivors out there. What if someone is in trouble and needs our help?”

“We wouldn’t be giving up. We’d be creating a home base. You can broadcast from there and keep searching.”

She’d planned this speech for two whole days now, writing and rewriting it in her head, countering each of his possible arguments. She sucked in a deep breath and gestured to the rows of white buckets peeking out from the back of the Hummer. “Thank you for finding that emergency food and those boxes of MREs, but really, anything with a twenty-five-year shelf life is just a step up from those disgusting PowerBars you eat. I need real food. Perishables, like fruits and vegetables. You can only get those when you settle down somewhere and grow them. Like on a farm.” She paused.

Adam kept his head down as he continued to fill the gas tank. “I’m listening,” he said. “Go on.”

“We haven’t found anywhere with electricity since Gilroy, and you know, planning for the power to go out and having it actually happen are two separate things. We need to find somewhere with solar and wind power because I’m not Amish.”

He laughed. “Good point. Neither am I.”

“Look, I think it’s important for us to start thinking ahead and planning for long-term survival. How about we go to a library and research someplace to live? I’m sure we’ll discover a farm that’s built off the grid with its own power and underground well. If the animals were free range, they might still be alive because they didn’t need to rely on feed to survive.”

“You’re right.” His voice held a hint of surprise as he secured the gas cap.

She chose not to be offended by his latent discovery of her intelligence. After all, she was surprised too. Since when did she have an interest in farming?

Uh, never.

“I learned it from all those books I’ve been reading. I’ve been teaching myself about this.”

Adam snorted. She knew he hated the books she’d been collecting from bookstores and libraries, piling up in the Hummer, taking up valuable space. “Hey, we need to educate ourselves. I’ve been learning and I’m ready to live the subsistence life on a farm. I think it would be good for us, and we can find someplace close enough to a city so we could still scavenge for supplies.”

He met her gaze. “I agree,” he announced.

“You do?” She blew out a breath. “Good.”

A cold wind kicked up and floated a strand of hair across her face. She shivered and buttoned her cardigan.

“How about we use the library at Fresno State tomorrow? My cousin graduated from there, so I’m familiar with the campus,” he told her.

“A university library? That’s perfect.”

“No matter what, I’m not giving up,” her powerful, proud Marine declared. “I’m going to continue searching for survivors. I have to know if there are other people out there.”

She smiled at him. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”