by Kylie Scott
Angus gave a grunt and a heave and the infected flew backwards. Angus rolled to the side, scrunched up into a ball.
Now.
Natalie pushed the pot off the railing. Gravity took over and it plummeted straight down. The infected was rising slowly from the ground, ready to attack Angus again. The pot smashed into its shoulder and the thing tumbled back onto the pavement, arm dangling crookedly and a low moan coming from its mouth.
Angus wasted no time. He leapt to his feet, grabbed the shotgun and reversed it. Rammed the stock into the thing’s face. Bone splintered and cracked. It didn’t move again.
Thank God.
Other infected had gathered below. They stood rattling the fence, wanting in. The chorus of moaning grew louder by the minute. Angus had a hell of an audience assembling, straining against the barrier, bloody hands reaching out to grab him. The glare of the sun obviously forgotten in their hunger.
“Hurry,” she hissed. Loudly. “Get up here.”
Angus nodded and shoved the shotgun into his pack. Pulled up a deck chair and stepped onto it, stretching, reaching up for the first-floor balcony. He started to climb. He was moving. He was safe. It would all be okay.
But the ground loomed below and blood surged hot inside Natalie’s head, drowning out everything like a bass drum beating loud behind her ears. She staggered back from the railing, legs like water. Throat shut tight and her shoulders up to her ears.
It was so high. The balcony was bad.
Really. Just. Bad.
She stumbled inside, sat her butt back on the thick carpeting before she fell down. Breathing deep. Waiting.
It didn’t take him long to reach her.
Angus’s big hands gripped the bars of the railing and he pulled himself up slowly. The muscles in his arms bunched and strained in ways that took her mind off the height thing. His eyes shone and his teeth were gritted but he gave her a wide, relieved smile when he cleared the top. She grinned back, helpless to resist. If she hadn’t already been sitting she would have hit the floor.
He was actually there. He hadn’t left her after all, this beautiful boy.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey, yourself.” Her eyes welled anew. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“No.” He looked taller than she’d realised. He seemed … well, it was harder to dismiss him as a boy when he was this close. When he had just risked his life for her. Angus knelt down in front of her, dark brows drawn together. “Are you alright?”
She nodded, hoped it was convincing. Seemed she’d used up her daily allotment of courage. Her trembling hands itched to grab hold of him. To hold on tight and never let him go, keep him safe somehow. Huh. She’d probably scare the crap out of the poor guy.
“You sure?” he asked, eyes not unkind. “You’re looking kind of freaked out.”
“Oh, I’m fine.” She gave a rough laugh. “Another day in paradise.”
Angus didn’t laugh.
He had short, dark blonde hair and a strong jaw covered in stubble. His nose was a little wide, his mouth a little generous. Pale blue eyes as clear as the summer sky stared back at her. “You went out onto the balcony, Nat. That was really brave.”
“No, what you did was brave. I threw a pot.”
“I’d be dead if you hadn’t been there.”
“Oh. I was worried about you.” Natalie tucked her brown hair behind her ears, studied her toes. Over-aware of everything all of a sudden. The way he watched her was … intense. Sitting around in her shorts and a tank top had seemed wise back when she hadn’t been expecting any visitors. Angus wore sneakers and cargo shorts, a T-shirt of some band she didn’t know. The Soviet X-Ray Record Club, whoever they were. He looked good, while she showed a lot of skin—including dimpled thighs definitely not belonging to a girl in her twenties.
Such a stupid thing to worry about, given the situation.
Natalie wrapped her arms around her knees, rocked back. Gave the poor guy some room from the desperate thirty-something eyeing him off like a meat tray at a raffle.
He gave a cautious smile and edged closer. “I can’t believe we’re finally in the same room together.”
“I know! What were you thinking?”
One thick shoulder rose and fell, and he sat back on his heels, nonplussed.
“I’m serious, Angus. You could have been bitten. I thought you’d left town.”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you leave? It was the smart thing to do.”
His features tightened and he leant in, getting in her face. “I wasn’t leaving without you.”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you—”
“I would have blamed me.”
“There were three of them in there.” Her voice rose in pitch. “You can’t risk yourself like that. What if you’d been infected?”
“I didn’t get any blood on me. Natalie.” His lips were a grim line, face deadly serious as he stared her down. He reached out and touched her, curled his fingers round the back of her neck. Stroking. “Listen to me.”
Natalie stopped, stunned. It felt so good. He felt so good, his mouth hovering over hers. His body was close, filling her head with the scent of clean male sweat, of the sun and sand. Everything else fell away. It was just a simple touch, but it had been so long. Even before the world went to hell Sean had been disinterested, at best. The press of Angus’s hand against her skin, the warmth of his palm. It all served to remind her that she was still alive and so was he.
“I wouldn’t leave you,” he said. Pale blue eyes so serious and intense and lovely. And young. Best not to forget that amid the haze of dirty thoughts. “I won’t do that. Do you understand?”
She nodded, more than a little mesmerised.
“Good. You and me against the world.”
“Okay,” she said, arching her neck ever so subtly.
“Shit.” Angus gave her a startled look and retracted his hand in a rush. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to grab at you like that.”
“Oh, it’s alright. I don’t mind.”
He frowned, the skin between his dark brows ridging. “You don’t?”
“No.” He had risked his life for her. He could have been killed, this beautiful boy dead and gone. The thought bled her dry. Her hands shook and her spine bowed. She hunched over her knees and held on tight. “But you have to be more careful from now on.”
“Do you mean that?” he asked.
“Yes, emphatically.”
“No. I mean about my hand.”
“Oh.” Her eyelids started batting like crazy, beyond her control. “Yes. It’s fine.”
Angus stared at her, said nothing.
“So … any ideas about what comes next?”
“Yeah.” He leant forward and kissed her.
* * *
Natalie’s mouth was amazing. But then, he’d known it would be.
Angus slanted his head, kissed her again. Slower. Without butting her in the nose this time. He brushed his lips against hers, stroked her neck. Her skin felt silken warm, her soft hair tickling the back of his hand.
If only she’d kiss him in return.
He set a good example, hoping. Hoping and waiting as ever-fucking-patiently as he could manage. Only, he’d been waiting weeks to get this close. Maybe weeks wasn’t long in the old scheme of things, but right now it seemed like a lifetime.
He’d come to the coast with some uni friends for a couple of weeks’ holiday. A chance to do some surfing and see out the New Year. The virus hit Christmas Eve and by Boxing Day his friends were dead. Everyone was dead or gone. It spread like a bushfire, the streets soon empty of all except for the infected. There had been the whine of jet engines, followed by ground-shaking explosions as bombs were dropped inland at the hospital, killing infected and innocent alike. Gunfire. Screaming. The power went out two days after Christmas. He’d holed up in the hotel basement for a fortnight, living off cans of spaghetti and dry Weet-Bix. Everything had been cemetery-still when he emerged. So qui
et. He’d wandered around, hiding at night, hoping to find someone still alive. Someone uninfected. Then he’d found her.
Natalie.
She’d been pacing past her balcony doors. Stalking back and forth, back and forth, darting the outside world nervous glances. Her long dark hair had been tied back in a ponytail, swinging every time she did her abrupt about-face. She’d been wearing the same denim shorts and green singlet top she had on now. Natalie had the best rack. He knew he shouldn’t think shit like that about her, but it was amazing. He’d been lugging around binoculars and finally, that day, he knew why.
“Natalie?” He opened his eyes. Hers were huge. Shocked. Oh, no. Had he read her wrong? His dick was killing him, fucking with his head. Maybe she hadn’t meant what he’d thought she’d meant. He swallowed hard and cursed. “Is this okay?”
“You want …” Her lips grazed his as she spoke because he wasn’t moving back. Not until she said to. She looked so much prettier up close. The sweet curves of her face, the dent in her chin. Everything about her worked for him.
“Yeah. I, ah … I …” He rubbed his thumb against the back of her neck and her skin goosepimpled beneath his touch. Good or bad? Shit. He had no idea. So what if she said no. He’d survive it, somehow. What he couldn’t do was not try. And why this felt harder than storming into that fucking enclosure, he didn’t know. “I want you.”
There. It was said.
Her eyes went impossibly wider and her breath hitched.
Except he wanted to make sure there were no mistakes this time.
Angus sucked in a breath, let it out. “I mean, I want to have sex with you. Now.”
Natalie’s eyes darkened and her mouth opened. But she said nothing for the longest time. Her dark brows drawn tight and lips perfectly still.
He could have choked on the silence.
There was a softly mumbled “fuck it”. Then her soft hands cupped his face, drawing him in. And God, he wanted in. More than he could remember ever wanting anything, he wanted inside of her.
“Okay, Angus,” she said. “Yes. I want that too. I want us to forget about everything for a while.”
Coherent thought sailed straight out the window. He smashed his lips to hers. Shoved his tongue into her mouth. There was nothing smooth or controlled about it.
Natalie made a noise beneath him and it might have been laughter but he was too busy to care. Too taken up with kissing her, deep and wet. The taste of her filled him and he was full to bursting already. His balls aching and his dick so hard it hurt. Her fingers slipped into his hair, holding him to her as she stroked her tongue against his. Nipped at him. Kissed him.
Gave him all the encouragement he needed.
Pure instinct drove him. He slid a hand behind her back, taking his weight on the other, easing her back onto the carpet. Getting her underneath him. Getting between her thighs so he could rub his hard-on against her like some horny kid.
He had to be as close to her as he could be.
His hand fumbled over her shirt, shaking like shit embarrassingly enough, seeking out a breast. He felt sixteen all over again, unsure and overexcited. The hard point of a nipple scraped against the palm of his hand through her layers of material and he closed his fingers around her. God. She was more than a handful, all over. Her body felt so right, soft and curvy. Fucking perfect. But there were too many clothes between them. Far too many.
He was in a mad rush, verging on panic, and he couldn’t seem to slow down. Need hammered at his head. “Natalie …”
“Easy,” she soothed, kissing the side of his mouth, his jaw. Her lips swollen and the skin on her chin pink from his stubble.
“You really want this?”
“Very much so.”
Relief flooded him. He curved his arms up around her head, pressed his face into her neck and squeezed his eyes tight. “Thank fuck.”
“I really thought you’d left.” Her voice cracked and he reared back. Her eyes were liquid-bright.
“No. No, I couldn’t do that.” How could she even doubt it? He’d told her things on that stupid damn walkie-talkie he’d never told another living soul. “You don’t need to worry about that. Ever.”
Her chin wrinkled up and he kissed it too. Again and again.
“Tell me you believe me,” he prompted.
Her mouth opened and her bottom lip trembled. “I’m sorry. I’m ruining it.”
“Tell me you believe me.”
She nodded jerkily. “I believe you.”
“Good. You’re so beautiful.”
“You’re brilliant for my self-esteem,” Natalie sighed and then chuckled. Low, throaty sounds that fulfilled two of the top three items on his list of things to hear before he died. Her hands slid down his body, moulding to his damp back. Clinging to him enough to let him know this was getting to her too. “Let’s get this T-shirt off. Hmm?”
“Yeah.” Angus pushed back onto his knees, ditched the shirt, started tearing open his shorts while he toed off his sneakers. Naked was excellent. Naked was clearly where they needed to go. His heart pounded inside his chest. Sweat slicked his body and his hands were still shaking. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice. “Ah, Nat. Get your clothes off. Now. Please.”
“You’ve got combat adrenaline.” Natalie rose up onto her elbows and eyed the bulge in his boxer briefs with interest. “I read about it once.”
He frowned at her, confused at the change in subject. “Maybe. Does it matter?”
“No.”
“You’ve still got your clothes on.” He pushed down his cargos and boxers, needing to get naked. Needing her to get naked, but Natalie was busy, watching. The expression on her face when she saw his cock for the first time was immensely satisfying. The dart of her pink tongue across her lips like she was contemplating all manner of stuff. Her eyes roamed over him, breasts heaving like there wasn’t enough air in the apartment, even with the balcony doors wide open.
She really did have the best tits. The best everything. Her voice alone had kept him hanging on for days. To think she’d imagined him gone. The things she’d said to him, how she’d kept him hoping, yearning. She’d given him a reason to live when every last thing was lost. Now he’d gotten to her there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going anywhere without her.
“You’re gorgeous,” she said.
Angus grunted. Not that her lust for him wasn’t nice but he was concentrating on other things. Things like not losing his load right here and now. The need to claim her in some primal way thumped around inside him, burning through his blood.
The effect she had on him.
Getting her top off would take longer so he went straight for the shorts, hooking the elastic of her panties into the deal. Two articles of clothing for the price of one. Eureka! Without hesitation he stripped them both straight down her long, shapely legs, eyeing up her pussy. Every bit as interested in her sex as she’d been in his. No game of ‘you show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ could have measured up. There was a dark strip of hair on her mound and plump, pink lips. So damn nice. Here, too, she was prettier up close than he’d imagined. And he had spent some solid time imagining.
Angus traced her moist slit with the pads of his fingers. Up and down, over and over. Just feeling her. Learning her. Her breathing grew choppy. He eased in a finger, experimenting, sliding it in deep. Pumping first one, and then two, slowly into her. She was warm and wet inside and out, her pussy making soft sucking noises as he finger-fucked her.
“Angus,” she moaned.
He could listen to her say his name all soft and husky for a good long time.
Her whole body tensed and she whimpered when he searched out the top of her seam, locating her sensitive clit. Rubbing either side. Her folds were flushed the darkest pink and his dick screamed bloody murder but he couldn’t pull himself away from playing with her.
Not just yet.
Dark eyes were on him, huge and hungry.
“I want to lick you.” He didn’t rec
ognise his own voice. “But later, okay?”
“Okay,” she murmured, hips bumping against his hand. Demanding more.
The air was laced with the scent of her. It was intoxicating. He twisted his fingers, watching to catch her every reaction. It made him hot, making her squirm. “Angus, enough, come here.”
She smiled and arched her neck, pressed her mouth to his. Kissing him slow and sweet. Opening her mouth to him when he licked at her bottom lip. Making his head spin.
His Natalie.
She pushed lightly against his shoulders. “Let me up so I can put my mouth on you.”
“No, ah, that’s a bad idea.” He eased back, started working her top up and off her. Easy enough, but the bra lacked a front closure. Unacceptable. “Time to change positions.”
Angus rolled them, taking her onto his chest, her dark hair falling over his face. Natalie’s hands gripped his shoulders and she sat up, astride him. What a view. Her breasts jiggled, snaring his immediate attention, but the sudden press of her hot, wet cunt against his tortured cock felt insane. Terrible. Perfect. His jaw locked.
They needed to move forward with this sex thing before he disgraced himself. He hadn’t been this worked up in years.
“Why is it a bad idea?” she asked. “You’d like it. I promise.”
“I believe you,” he croaked. “Take off the bra. Please.”
She did so with a pleased smirk, her earlier shakes and tears long since forgotten. Given half a chance he’d have a smile permanently on her face. She threw the black satin aside. Her luscious tits tumbled into his waiting hands. Hard, brown nipples made his mouth water and his blood surge anew. He shook his head, closing his eyes against a wave of light-headedness. Too much to do. Several lifetimes’ worth and then some.
He rolled her pretty nipples between his thumb and forefinger, plucked them and played with them, making her breath hitch and her mouth fall open. That was nice, but honestly, he was too caught up in pleasing himself to notice much. Maybe next time. No, definitely next time. He’d be all about pleasing her. She’d never doubt him again. Not in any way, shape or form.
