by Mary Martel
The door shuts quietly, and the lock slides home.
Fuck.
Any sane response to being alone with the wild man in a locked room would be to scream for help at any cost. Why then does my heart feel like it’s going to beat out of my chest and butterflies flit behind my belly button?
Clothing rustles, and something heavy hits the floor. I pretend to ignore him as I stand directly under the spray and shut my eyes tight. This shouldn't be happening. I’ve slept on the couch and avoided them all to keep from getting myself into situations like this. And now here we are.
From behind me, the curtain moves, and in my panic, I reach out to shut off the water without having actually bathed myself.
A hand covers mine, and my body begins to tremble in earnest. I feel him, just barely, press up against my back. Every hard, delectable inch of him, like a tease.
Hyperventilating is looking like a good idea right about now.
Dear sweet baby Jesus, pull your shit together, Em.
In my ear, Kemp whispers, "Don't tell me you're afraid of me all of a sudden, crazy. What a disappointment."
At those magic words, my spine snaps straight and my eyes shoot open. His arms wrap around my stomach, and I’m pulled back into a hard chest.
And a hard cock.
I have never actually felt one up close and personal before, not pressed up against my bare skin. To my shock, it’s the warmest part of his entire body.
His palm smooths across my flat stomach, making me shiver. This is all moving too fast for me. and I don’t know how to slow it down or even if I truly want to. I should, however, tell him we’re in uncharted waters here, right?
His freehand slides up between my breasts. His fingers splay out, and his palm lays flat against my chest. My heart beats frantically, erratic even, and I know he can feel it against his hand, he has to. My nervousness forces words to spill out of my mouth.
"Kemp," I breathe out, "what do you think you're doing in here?"
I know exactly what he thinks he’s doing, but perhaps words might slow him down a bit. Do I even want him to, though?
No.
The scared little girl inside my head, the one I thought was dead, whispers, Yes.
Once again, I find I’m at war with myself. My body thinks this is a great idea, and we can’t wait to see what he does next, especially that place between my legs. My brain is flashing a neon bright light that reads: Abort! Mission Abort! And my heart? Well, that fucker is busy wrapping itself up in bubble wrap because it knows there’s serious danger of being severely broken when all is said and done.
Kemp's lips brush against my neck, just below my ear, in the gentlest of caresses. "Relax, crazy. You know exactly what I'm doing, but don't you worry. I won't let things get too serious. Wouldn't want to scare you off and have you running away on me."
He nips at my ear gently. "Besides, I want to give you something to think about while that prick Sam is staring at you with hearts and fucking stars in his eyes."
The hand on my stomach slides down even lower, dangerously close to a place no one has ever gone before. No one but me.
"Please," I whisper.
Please what?
Stop?
Go down a little further until your fingers hit that magic spot?
Get the fuck out of the shower and away from me before I turn around and jump your naked ass?
"Shh. I know what you need. It's what I need too because I know you'll be thinking about what I did to your body while that idiot fawns all over you."
What the fuck is he talking about?
"Shut up," I mutter weakly as he kisses his way down my throat.
He chuckles but otherwise doesn’t respond vocally. His knee presses in between my thighs, and my legs part. My feet are pushed apart, sliding across the wet tile easily, and stop at his will.
I lower my forehead to the tile, letting the hot water rain down on me, and suck in huge gulps of air.
Fuck, I have to tell him before he takes things too far and we both end up with regrets.
What if you won’t regret this, Em? Even if you leave…when you leave…at least you’ll have this moment in this fucked up world.
His hand slides down until he’s cupping me in the palm of his hand, and his mouth continues to do wicked things to my throat. The slight sting of his teeth grazing against my skin has my eyes flickering shut.
His fingers slide in between my folds and through the wetness that meets them there.
"I'm a virgin," I blurt out, and everything around me except for the falling water stills. Panicked, I keep going. "I mean... yeah, can we just forget I said that? I'm erasing it from my memory as we speak. You should do the same."
He groans loudly, sounding as if he were in pain, and his mouth finally leaves my neck. The hand on my chest pulls me back, and I’m forced to lift my head from the tile. His hand slips up past my collarbone and all the way up the column of my throat. His strong fingers grip my jaw, and my face is jerked to the side. Slowly, my eyes raise to his, and the possession that greets me makes my entire body tremble. My legs shake, and my chest begins rising and falling with slowly increasing intensity.
"Can I touch you?" he asks in a gruff voice. "Would that be okay? I won't take it any further, not this first time."
Now he asks if he can touch me?
I watch in fascination as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down while he swallows thickly. "I make no promises for next time though, outside of assuring you there will be a next time. I don't care if you let someone else in there before me. In these times, that wouldn't be fair of me to ask of you or the others. But I need you to know that when it's just you and me no dick but mine matters for you. That I’m the only person you're going to think of when I've got my dick inside you. What you do when my dick isn't inside of you will always be my business, but I won't interfere with your relationships with the others. I might not like it, but I won't interfere. Except for maybe with Sam. I don't like or trust him just yet, if I ever will."
This time it’s me who swallows painfully around a lump of emotion lodged in there. I just knew I should have kept my stupid trap shut. One of the main issues with getting involved with them is just that. Getting involved with them, not just the wild man or Sam. It’s hard as hell to work out feelings for one dude, let alone a whole fucking house full of them. Plus, I don’t want to just be a hole they can get off in since women are looking to be scarce. What happens if we move locations or another woman happens into our lives? I’d hate to have to kill another person who’s fought this long to stay alive. Now that I know how he feels, it should relieve some of the ache in my chest, but it doesn’t. Just because he feels this way doesn’t mean the others do. I’m not going to be a homewrecker and break their family dynamic.
"Now," his grip on my jaw tightens, "tell me you understand what I'm saying to you."
I understand exactly what he’s saying to me, but, for once in my short shitty adult life, I have absolutely nothing to say.
Nope.
Nada.
Fucking zip.
My brain has flown the coop and gone on vacation because this shit is simply too much for me to process at the moment. Or, I’m fairly certain, ever.
I should tell him my fears and everything running through my mind, but that small blip in my brain doesn’t allow it. Instead, when my mouth opens, I breathe out blithely, "Sure."
That meant no, but not really. Please don’t stop touching my pussy.
Stupid hussy.
His eyes trace over my face before dropping down to my lips and locking on. He nods, as if agreeing to something I can’t hear, and his mouth descends upon mine. We kiss, and because of my bent backward neck, the angle is odd. However, I feel no pain. There’s nothing but hunger and Kemp.
One of my hands goes to the tiled wall, not far from where I'd laid my forehead just minutes ago. The other one lowers to his hand between my legs. I cover it with my own and shove my hips forward.
/> Moaning into my mouth, his own hips jerk, and his erection rubs up against my ass cheek. The grip on my jaw lessens but his kiss grows even hungrier, needier.
My hips move, riding the hand working magic between my legs and fingering my clit. My orgasm is fast approaching, but I don’t want to be alone in experiencing my very first non-self-induced orgasm. That dirty little voice whispers in my mind again.
Kemp deserves good things too.
Removing my hand from his, I slip it around between our wet bodies. My fingers wrap around his cock, and I gasp into his mouth at the feel of him. So hard but so soft at the same time. And so fucking hot.
I squeeze my fingers around him gently, so as not to hurt, and his mouth finally breaks away from mine. The hand around my throat slides away and down. He wraps his greedy fingers around my left breast, pinching at my nipple lightly.
I hiss and squeeze him. Rewarding me with a grunt in response as I pump my fist up and down on his cock, working him up.
"Fuck, Em."
I moan wantonly in agreement.
Both our hips rock against each other’s hands. His play havoc on my clit while I pump furiously away at his cock.
We’re in a race now to see who could get the other off first. Even though he'd started it, I want to win and make him come first.
My loss is also a huge victory.
I cry out as my orgasm hits me like nothing I have ever felt before. My entire body shakes uncontrollably as it passes through me. I try to close my legs, but his knee keeps them spread apart.
Kemp's hand covers the small of my back, and he presses forward, pushing the entire front of my body against the tile. My cheek presses against the smooth surface as my hand loses purchase on his cock.
His hips move back, away from mine, and his hand leaves my pussy. The one at my back remains, holding me in place. He groans as the hot water continues to pelt us from above.
"Fuck, Emerald," he grinds out as his fingers flex against my skin.
A deeper warmth hits my lower back and the top of my ass as Kemp lets out a sound that is part snarl, part whimper. It’s a sound I know I’ll never forget.
Sucking in a sharp breath, reality seems to flood in with it.
Good fucking God. What have I done?
Warm, soft lips press against my throat and the wet hair plastered to my face is slowly swept away with a gentle hand.
"Let's get you cleaned up before the hot water runs out, and we're both left to freeze to death."
He pulls me back against his big body as he reaches for the soap. I don’t have a reply in me because I’m too busy freaking right the fuck out about what has just happened. Why was he still here? Can't he leave me alone to freak out by myself?
His hands fall away from my side, and he holds the soap out under the spray of water and lathers it up between his hands. Before I can talk myself out of it, I turn to face him, needing to see his expression.
There is no smug smile or arrogance to him whatsoever. Everything about him seems to have gentled, and I’m scared that if I open my mouth and the wrong thing comes out, the smugness will return, leaving this Kemp lost to me.
Keeping my lips firmly sealed, I stand frozen like a fucking zombie, irony lost on no one, while he lathers my entire body in soap and then gently washes it off. Using his hand on my shoulder, he turns me back around and shampoos and conditions my hair.
He never says a word and the gentle sweetness of his actions breaks open something inside of me. I let the tears fall, mixing in with the water, as Kemp rinses out my hair.
He doesn’t bathe himself but makes sure I’m as clean as I can be. Leaving me there under the hot water without saying a word, it’s like he knows I needed a moment to myself and won't appreciate him sticking around to see me so open and vulnerable.
I slide down the tile, not stopping until my ass hits the floor. I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs. I’m not sad or regret what we just did. I wanted it to happen. Even if I wouldn’t admit it openly, I’ve wanted it since setting eyes on this crew. Confusion and apprehension make my stomach feel like a lead weight. How can I fight something that feels so right? Am I being a greedy slut, even in trying times such as these, wanting to claim them all as mine? For wanting more than what the wild man alone is offering? Months of self-induced quarantine trapped with romance books weren’t enough to prepare me for this moment. For all of the emotions threatening to bury me six feet under in the yard.
I’m not sure how long I let the tears fall, but when my body starts to shake because the water’s gone cold, I decide to get the fuck out.
I’ve slowly come to realize dreams are nothing more than broken thoughts we take to the grave with us. As days turned to months in my solitude, I can’t pinpoint the day my desire to be loved died with the dead. Maybe those tears now washing down the drain were more for that dream than anything. These men resurrected the hope that there’s someone still alive that could love me and treat me the way I deserve. Hell, maybe there are several of them.
Samuel
It feels wrong to be here without Em. Like a betrayal, even. I had come here for her, and she was the sole reason I stayed. They had a nice setup here, and it felt relatively safe. As safe as any place could be, but Emerald was the reason for me being here; safety had nothing to do with it.
For whatever reason, these idiots thought it was a good idea to give the woman space. She needed space like she needed a hole drilled into her head. Space is the absolute last thing she needs, and there is zero chance in hell I'll be falling in line with these assholes and getting on board for that particular plan.
She’s pulling away from them and trying to pull away from me. There’s a wall inside of her that she'd started fortifying brick by brick, and she’s been adding layers to it by the day. Now that I have her in my sights, I'll do almost anything to keep her there. I don't care if she doesn't want me there; I'll stay in her shadow if that's where she needs me to be. And I'll still be there if and when she leaves these fools behind.
These family meetings are complete bullshit if they’re going to purposefully exclude people. How am I supposed to trust them when they've purposefully left her out? Answer: I'm not.
We're all crowded around the kitchen again as per usual when Emerald makes herself scarce. The kitchen seems to be the heart of this house and where everyone naturally gravitates to. Almost like a real family unit.
The farmhouse I had grown up in had been an old, rambling house that had been in my family for generations, passed down from father to son and had been added onto and changed to suit each family that lived there. I'd grown up living in a house with not only my parents and siblings but my grandparents as well.
Mornings and dinnertime had been almost like an event every single day in our house. Chaos ensued, and it was loud but full of laughter. And it had always started and ended in the kitchen. My mother ruled over her domain there, but it wasn't a bad thing, and always a place we wanted to be. Homework got done at the old, worn table. Game night had gone down in there. The kitchen had been the heart of my home too, so that's part of how I knew they were a real family unit.
"What's this about?" the doc asks. He sits at the table with a cup of steaming hot coffee in front of him. "Emerald had a book on plants and their uses with her, and I've been studying up on them. It's really quite fascinating, and I'm hoping she'll go back out into the woods and show me where I can find some things I'm interested in. She's incredibly smart, and the fact that she learned how to do so many things simply by reading about them is most impressive. I can't wait to get the chance to pick her brain."
I'm sure Emerald would like that. Maybe it would make her feel useful and get her out of the house. I don't think it's healthy for her to be cooped up in here all the time, even if it is so she can heal.
The doc glances at Noble. The bald man has an air of authority to him that screams military, and he takes charge of most things easily, as if he’s used to p
eople looking at him and waiting for his commands.
Noble looks around the room and nods. Everyone who's supposed to be here is, and I clench my jaw tight in order to keep my mouth shut. Nothing good ever comes from losing your patience, a lesson I’ve learned the hard way. If I'm patient, Em will see these people for who they really are, and I'll have no problem assisting her in that endeavor by telling her they purposefully left her out of this. My loyalty belongs to Em and no one else.
"Dex and Russ went into town to see if they could track the gang's movements. They seem to have gone to ground. Either that or they've moved on. Something's not sitting right with me on this. My gut tells me they're still close to town but are hiding because they know we're close and don't want us to know about them just yet. Which tells me they might be planning something for us, and I don't like that."
So, we're all just supposed to trust his gut on this one? I don't know him well enough for that. Everyone else around the table tenses at his proclamations but not me. I sit back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest.
Jealousy rears its ugly, green head inside me. I've been on my own for so long, and they have what I always wanted for myself. People around you to trust and call your own. I miss having a family. That's what Emerald represented to me, the chance to have someone I could place all of my faith and trust in and someone to return it in kind.
"I think we should be more active in searching for them." Russ rubs his hand over the scruff starting to grow on his jaw. He holds his hand up when several of the others start to protest. "Not obvious, just active. I just want to be smart about this, and I think getting ahead of the problem before it lands in our backyard is smart. We find them before they find us. We don't have to do anything to them or even engage them, but we need to know where they’re staying."
Everyone agrees, if grudgingly. The doc didn't really seem to have an opinion on the matter either way; he was more concerned about getting back to Emerald’s books.
I don't agree, not that I don't think it's smart to find out where they're staying because it is the smart thing to do. I'm just not going to agree to anything until I discuss it with Em first. If she plans on us staying here, then she should have a voice in the matter.
