Bloody Sunrise: A Zombie Apocalypse Romance

by Gwendolyn Harper

  Their search of the pantry was a little disappointing, until Nicole found the cellar, and the stockpiles of canned goods. Finding the generator, and that the house was on well water, was even better. They had light, a cooktop stove, and a working shower.

  “This was worth the effort,” Nicole said, setting out cans of green beans. “They’ve even got canned meat down there—sausage and salmon and chicken.”

  Booker’s head popped up from where he was testing the stove. “You say chicken?”

  She beamed as she nodded. Nicole started back for the cellar and Booker followed. As he passed Caitlin, he grabbed her waist and kissed her neck.

  “We’re gonna eat good t’night, darlin’,” he said against her ear. As he walked away, he smacked her ass playfully, making her giggle.

  They still had plenty of daylight, which meant they had more work to do.

  Booker found a tool box and started repairing the fence immediately while Caitlin and Nicole dragged the Geeks out of the yard, placing them meters away from the house at all sides. It was a trick Nicole had learned from her last group—Geeks weren’t that interested in eating other Geeks, and were repelled by the smell of a rotting virus-infected body. Like creating a Geek moat, they counted out how far the bodies needed to be, so they wouldn’t have to breathe in the stench, and dropped the corpses end to end.

  It was hard, disgusting work but it was worth it. Especially when Booker turned the gas line on and started cooking.

  They ate around a real table, sitting in real chairs, using real plates and cutlery, and Caitlin had never felt more decadent in her life.

  Nicole got the shower first while Caitlin searched the rooms for clothing that might fit her. She had nothing in comparison to her and Booker. Most of the outfits were a little dated, but she managed to find a pair of jeans and a couple shirts they could alter to fit her. Caitlin also found a pair of shorts in Nicole’s size. Given they weren’t even through the worst of summer, she was going to need them.

  Caitlin laid out her extra set of clothes for Nicole to put on after her shower—they’d wash her others in the morning—and started looking for anything she could sleep in or that Booker could wear.

  “Not those.”

  His voice brought her head around and she smirked. “Not a fan of checkers?”

  “Not when it’s the color of Easter eggs,” he said, entering the room. “I got an undershirt you can wear if ya want.”

  Caitlin smiled. “Got any pants to go with that?”

  “I didn’t think you’d be needin’ those t’night,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her.

  “Sounds good to me,” she said against his lips. “But I’ll need something for tomorrow.”

  “I’ll getcha sorted.”

  His hand snaked beneath the waist of her jeans and she laughed. “Like I trust you to dress me in anything functional.”

  “I’ll have you know the outfit I had in mind was very functional.”

  She raised her eyebrow at him. “For which kind of activity?”

  Booker paused.

  Got him.

  “Uh huh,” she said, tickling his side. “Knew it.”

  Nicole stopped in the doorway, wrapped in a towel.

  “Oh sweetie, I put my extra set of clothes out for you on the bed in that room,” Caitlin told her. “We’ll wash a bunch of stuff in the morning.”

  “You didn’t have to—”

  “Oh please,” she interrupted. “Consider it pay back for ruining your shoes that one Fourth of July party.”

  Nicole laughed on her way to the spare room.

  Booker glanced down at her curiously. “Mud?”

  “Jaeger. Lots and lots of Jaeger.”

  He wrinkled in nose and shook his head. “Nasty.”

  Returning the checkered shirt to the drawer she found it in, she took him by the hand. “Shower’s free.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They practically ran into the bathroom, stripping as soon as the door was shut.

  Once upon a time, Caitlin would have treated a hot shower with an attractive man as elaborate foreplay. She would have indulged the sensuality of it all, taken her time, maybe even got right to the act there against the tile wall.

  But now? Now she just wanted to feel clean, to wash the grime and sweat off herself.

  “Can you pass that conditioner?” She asked as she rinsed shampoo out of her long hair.

  Booker paused his own soaping up to look for it. The family that had once lived there had left quite a few toiletries behind. Caitlin didn’t want to think about why.

  Before he handed it to her, he sniffed it curiously. “That’s gonna be weird…”

  Pouring some out into her palm, she said, “What do you mean?”

  “Havin’ you smell like jasmine vanilla whatever that is,” he said, washing his face. “Just don’t suit you is all.”

  She smiled as she worked the product through her hair. “And what does suit me?”

  They swapped places so Booker could rinse, hands grazing over wet skin appreciatively.

  Ducking under the spray, he mumbled, “I dunno. Somethin’… Like one of those spicy smellin’ Christmas candles. Sweet but with some bite to it.”

  “Cinnamon?”

  “Yeah. Maybe with some pine in there.” He scrubbed his scalp, shampoo suds trailing down his neck and back.

  Caitlin laughed. “So, I’m a mountain woman to you?”

  “Y’ain’t vanilla cupcake somethin’ or other, I’ll tell ya that.”

  She stopped with her hand on the body wash. It was such an innocent conversation, but it warmed her all over.

  If Booker was associating her personality, the things he saw in her, with her scent then he knew her. Appreciated who she was, even in the worst of conditions.

  There weren’t many people she could say that about.

  She grabbed the bar soap instead.

  Glancing down, she gasped so sharply Booker jerked and knocked his arm on the side of the shower.

  “Oh my God, they have a razor.” She snatched it up like it was made of gold. “They have several! Booker!”

  “Should I throw confetti around or…?”

  She wiggled happily. “I’m gonna shave. I’m gonna shave everything.”

  Booker cleared his throat behind her and she rolled her eyes. “Fine, not everything. I’ll leave that just for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  She hadn’t been kidding though. She started with her armpits and then quickly moved on to her legs. The last time she’d shaved was at the preacher’s cabin and it had been hasty at best.

  Booker shut the water off to save it and leaned closer. “Want some help?”

  “You’re offering to help me shave my legs?”

  “If ya want.”

  The tingle at her low back gave her a sudden thrill. She suspected Booker wanted it more than he’d ever vocalize, and something about the act was so raw and intimate she couldn’t deny him.

  “Sure,” she said, turning to prop her leg up.

  Handing him the razor, she watched Booker kneel and cup her calf. He lathered her up and placed a quick kiss to her thigh before steadily and gently pulling the razor over her skin.

  The whole time she watched his face. The love and reverence in his eyes made her start to tremble. His hold was firm and careful, each swipe of the razor perfectly angled, never cutting her once.

  She thought he’d stop at the knee, but he repeated the steps all the way up her thigh and then gave her a light pat to signal her to offer her other leg.

  “Jack…” She breathed, and he looked up.

  “Not good?”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s so good. So… You don’t have to keep—”

  He kissed her knee—paying close attention to the scar she’d gotten as a kid, and the fresh bruise from a couple days prior—and she was quiet again.

  “Love it, songbird,” he told her. “Not sure how many chances we’ll get, y
a know?”

  She nodded and let him drag her foot to prop up on his stomach.

  “I gotcha,” he murmured. “You relax.”

  Smiling, she ran her fingers through his damp hair, and let him continue.

  When he was finished, she was nearly a puddle on the shower floor, overwhelmed by his attentiveness. Not to mention how surprisingly sexy it had been to watch.

  Booker stood up and turned the shower back on, pulling her under the spray to rinse. He massaged her shoulders as she washed out the conditioner, helped her scrub her back, and dragged kisses over the curve of her neck.

  The man sure knew how to seduce.

  Shutting the water off, Caitlin turn in his hold and kissed him fully. “C’mon, we’ve got a bed to break in.”

  He groaned, and she giggled, pulling back the shower curtain to find the towels they’d set out.

  After a quick check, Caitlin found Nicole asleep in the spare room and she quietly closed her door. She let her towel fall the second she was in the room she and Booker had co-opted.

  “Shit, you look good,” he said from the edge of the bed where he sat. His towel was still around his waist, but the terrycloth didn’t do much to hide how much he was appreciating the view.

  He’d turned on the bedside lamp—a luxury she wouldn’t have thought twice about before, but now felt special. He wanted to see her like he’d been able to see her the morning in the pond.

  Crossing the short distance between them, Caitlin stood between his knees, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “Booker, I…” She stopped, biting back the words that almost tripped over her lips.

  He stared up at her expectantly and she kissed the bridge of his nose, making him chuckle.

  “I wanna make you feel good,” she whispered, dragging her lips to the corner of his mouth.

  “Y’think you’ve been strugglin’ with that?” He smirked. “I promise you ain’t been a disappointment.”

  Kissing him fully, she teased him with the tip of her tongue until he was moaning deep in his throat. When she pulled back he chased her lips and she knew she had him.

  “Lean back, Booker,” she told him, pushing on his shoulders. “Got a lot more tricks up my sleeve than you think.”

  Eyes wide, he dropped back onto his forearms.

  “That’s better,” she said, tugging at his towel until he was as bare as she was.

  Her lips parted on a low moan, and Booker’s abs clenched as he tried to steady his breathing. He was watching her reaction.

  Good.

  Ducking her head, she kissed his jawline and neck, his week of stubble burning her skin in ways she never knew she could crave until then.

  Planting her hands on his thighs, she kissed a trail down to his navel before dropping to her knees.

  “Cae, you don’t have t—”

  “Jack, I’ve dreamt of having your cock in my mouth,” she blurted out, hand circling his base. “Please don’t deprive me now.”

  His eyelids fluttered as he took a breath. “Wouldn’t wanna do that, now would I?”

  This wasn’t a hurried fuck in the back of the Jeep. She could take her time, really savor him, learn every spot that rocketed him higher.

  The first swipe of her tongue made him jolt and she grinned. It was gonna be a treat and a half to go down on him.

  Parting her lips, she took him in slowly, making sure he felt each centimeter she had her mouth around. By the time her nose brushed her knuckles, Booker was gulping air and flushing all the way down his chest.

  She bobbed her head, keeping a languid rhythm that teased him into delirium. Booker cursed under his breath, fisting the edge of the sheets. After several expert swirls of her tongue, he dropped his head back, staring at the ceiling.

  Pulling off him, she kissed down his shaft as she said, “I want you to watch me, Jack.”

  He twitched in her hand as he groaned.

  “If I keep watchin’ you, I dunno how long I’ll last,” he admitted, voice tight.

  “That’s a bigger compliment than you realize,” she murmured, licking a wide stripe up his length.

  The noise Booker made was like a desperate wild animal still trying to hold on.

  She didn’t take him back into her mouth until he looked down. Locking eyes with him, she parted her lips and swallowed as much of him as she could, just barely nudging the back of her throat.

  “Shit, songbird,” he gasped, hand flying out to clutch her hair. He released her, but she moaned around him, encouraging him to grab her hair.

  Booker’s eyes were nearly black, pupils blown wide. “You… Y’sure?”

  Caitlin’s reply was to hum and hollow her cheeks until he was growling. His fingers tangled in her damp hair, twisting until she was arching into him. Relaxing her jaw, she picked up the pace, glancing up at him through her lashes.

  “Cae… Fuck, I’m…” He swallowed thickly. “Darlin’ you gotta stop or…”

  Holding eye contact, she dragged her free hand down her body, pinching her nipples and whimpering.

  Don’t fight it.

  I want to taste you.

  Please, Jack.

  Booker groaned deeply, sweat beading on his chest.

  “Ah, fuck.” He curled in on himself, abs flexing so severely she could count them.

  She felt his body tense moments before tasting him at the back of her throat. She didn’t stop, working him through every pulse until he was panting heavily and dragging his thumb over her hollowed cheek.

  “Darlin’… please,” he begged.

  Caitlin released him with a grin, licking her lips slowly to prove her point. There wasn’t any part of him she didn’t want.

  “Told you I had a few tricks,” she said, using his legs for leverage to stand up. Her knees ached but it didn’t matter. Every inch of her was buzzing, warm and alive and needy.

  Booker hauled her to him so fast she stumbled, laughing into his shoulder.

  His mouth was on her before she could even open her eyes, tongue pushing passed her lips, tasting her hungrily. Booker brushed her hair back, cradling her face as he kissed her.

  “Gimme five minutes,” he told her, kissing the hinge of her jaw. “And then you’re all mine, darlin’.”

  “Sounds like heaven.”

  He only needed three.

  Hand between her thighs, crooking his fingers expertly, Caitlin was reeling.

  “Jack…” She gasped when he dipped down, sucking her right nipple into his mouth. “Oh, God.”

  “Y’know how good you feel?” He gave her a gentle love bite before soothing it with his tongue. “All slicked up like this… shit, you’re gonna be a man’s undoin’.”

  Smiling as she moaned, she tilted her head to look at him. “Pretty sure I was already your undoing five minutes go.”

  He growled against her, dragging his teeth over the curve of her collar bone. “That wicked mouth of yours…”

  “Look who’s talking,” she said, gripping his shoulder for support.

  Booker circled his wrist and she arched her back. “Gonna get to that later,” he said, smirking up at her. “But first…” His thumb slid through her folds, finding her clit easily. “Lemme feel you, songbird.”

  He studied her face, her breathing, found the perfect tempo with the rocking of her hips and before she could even prepare, she was shattering apart with a shocked gasp.

  “Oh, Jack!”

  He kissed her neck, held her up as she shuddered. “That’s it… Fuck, Cae.”

  She felt her wetness gushing down her thighs and her cheeks burned bright pink. “I…”

  Booker swallowed her doubt, kissing it away. “Perfect,” he told her, easing his fingers out of her. “So goddamn perfect.”

  Glancing down, she saw him hard against his belly and clenched, already desperate for him again.

  It must’ve been written all over her face because he smiled and licked his lips.

  “Ride me,” he murmured, kissing her aga
in. “C’mon, songbird.”

  They shuffled on the mattress until Booker was propped against the pillows and headboard, beckoning her to crawl up to join him.

  When she ground her core against him, he exhaled like she’d punched him.

  “Want me to go slow?” She asked, lips quirking.

  “Like hell,” he said, gripping the outside of her thighs. “Y’take what you want, how y’want it.”

  She liked an open invitation.

  Lining him up, she took him fully in one motion, delighted by the stretch. Booker held her hips as she moved, watching where he was disappearing inside her.

  She tried to let it build, to draw it out like she had before, but her body was too ready, too keyed up, and he was just too perfect filling her. It was like tripping downhill—once she lost her foothold, she was helpless.

  She came hard, gasping his name. But she never stopped moving, riding each crest to the next.

  Booker’s hands skimmed up her waist to her breasts, massaging and pinching her nipples until she was arching her back. Dark hair tumbling down her back, she rolled her hips and moaned.

  “Harder, Jack,” she pleaded, clutching his hands to her.

  He obliged, and she shuddered, tempo faltering as pleasure burned through her.

  “Look at you,” he murmured, palm grazing the column of her throat down to her sternum. “Never in my life…”

  Her sigh dropped into a groan as he rocked beneath her. Booker held her gaze, brown eyes warm and awed and…

  Worshiping. He stared at her like a devotee would look upon the image of their deity. Open and loving and fully aware they could bless or smite with one word.

  I love you.

  I would do anything for you.

  Please… Please…

  “I love you, Jack.”

  The words flew off her tongue, completely without warning.

  Caitlin stalled, hand clapping over her mouth.

  Booker stared up at her, dumbfounded. She counted the beats until her proclamation sunk in.

  One…

  Two…

  Three…

  He reached up, gently clutching the nape of her neck to pull her closer. Leaning up, he pressed his forehead to hers, noses brushing.

  “Yeah?” He asked, breathing like he was about to have a cardiac episode.