by Elle Aycart
Sky obeyed. Pulling up the sleeve, Megan unlocked the cuff. “We don’t want the others seeing these hanging from your wrist. You’ll never hear the end of it.”
Sky felt her face light up like a traffic signal. “You noticed?”
Megan nodded and handed Sky the cuffs. “You also have pink glop in your hair. I was going to ask what you and my bro were getting up to, but the cuffs answered that.”
Sky hurried to hide them in her sweatpants pocket as they headed toward the compound. “Whatever you’re imagining, it hasn’t happened. We keep getting interrupted.”
And they were running out of time. The school had contacted her just that morning to let her know she could move into her apartment in Paris on Sunday. Get started on preparing for classes and becoming acquainted with the school’s facilities. She’d called the rental agency and arranged for another car to be delivered to Logan’s house.
She hadn’t told Logan yet. She’d planned to finish washing Arnie, serve the nice supper, and break the news to him over wine.
Megan laughed. “If you can control your gag reflex, I suggest you try getting it on in the greenhouse, when his students have the day off. No one goes in there. Privacy is at a premium in this town.”
“Where did Logan go?” Sky asked as they entered the main building of the compound. She didn’t know these people. Without her Brazilian ass or boob contour—heck, her underwear—she was feeling exposed and self-conscious.
“Out back. He and Alec operate our drone data collection operation. My brother isn’t too big on this prepper stuff. He does it mainly for me.”
“So you are big on it?”
Megan shrugged. “I’m big on Alec. I go where he goes. Alec’s military expertise is in high demand among preppers, so here we are. My training as a doula appeals to them too. After all, in case of the apocalypse, they’ll need babies to repopulate the earth.”
Sky couldn’t tell if Megan was pulling her leg or not. Probably not, which was frightening. To think that in a major disaster, only this gene pool would survive? Humanity was doomed. Fashion was a goner for sure. Although Megan was admittedly rocking the commando-chick look.
Sky motioned at Megan’s engagement ring. “Alec is your fiancé?” She remembered Logan calling him his future brother-in-law.
“Yes,” Megan answered. “I kept turning him down, but he wouldn’t let it go. I made a bet with him and I lost.”
“What kind of bet?”
“I told him if I wasn’t dead in a year, I’d marry him. I’m not dead. I lost.”
Logan had said his sister was sick; he hadn’t mentioned how serious it was. “It seems to me you won.”
“I did,” Megan conceded, her expression softening. “Anyway, I’m glad you and I finally met. I would have come over to introduce myself—by which I mean, check you out—earlier, but I had to go to Minneapolis right after you arrived. When I got home and back on my feet, Logan was sick. Neither Alec nor Logan were on board with me visiting without a hazmat suit. Overprotective men. In hindsight they were right, although for the wrong reasons. We’re a crazy bunch as it is—no need to be wearing hazmat suits to make the introduction worse.”
Amen to that.
“Yo, Patient Zero, did you bring your beauty stuff?” It was Sierra, fitness guru and champion bowler.
“No. Sorry.”
“Pity. We could have held the crash course here.” Sierra lifted a box and carried it to what looked like the kitchen.
“That’s right!” Megan said, sitting by the fireplace and taking off her jacket. “I’ve heard about your miracles.”
Sky would have followed Megan’s lead and taken off her jacket, but she was feeling too ashamed of her ensemble. “No miracles. They’re just tricks. How to enhance some things, how to make others fade into the background. We all want what we don’t got and vice versa. Fashion is my thing. Not that the way I look at the moment supports my claim.”
“What would you do with this?” Megan pulled the hem of her sweater over her head, revealing a tank top and the edges of a big, colorful tattoo covering her chest where her breasts would have been. “How do you create cleavage when you’ve got nothin’?”
Breast cancer.
Sky composed herself and answered as matter-of-factly as she could. “In your case, it’s not so much about what you’ve lost, but what you’ve gained. That’s a kickass, fuck-cancer survivor’s tattoo. You should show it off. It’s so vivid and has so much depth, it looks 3D. The pattern has texture and extra dimension. It’s all you need.”
“I like you,” Megan said after a short pause. “Which is a first. I tend to dislike the women my brother gets involved with. They’re all stuck-up bitches. They’d never wear Prada with rubber boots, or a man’s shirt that’s ten sizes too big.”
“In all honesty, neither would I. This was an emergency.”
Megan laughed. “I bet it was.”
“Now what?” Sky asked, glancing around. “I’m new at this. Do we sit around the fireplace and eat s’mores?”
“Nope. I’m in charge of checking storage inventory. The supplies are in the underground bunker. You want to join me?”
“Sure. Are panties considered part of inventory? I’m in need of those.”
Sky was leaning on the stone wall around the outdoor grill, breathing deep, Arnie investigating the snowbanks nearby, when she felt strong arms close around her.
“What are you doing?” Logan asked, resting his chin on the top of her head. “You’ll freeze.”
“I needed fresh air. I was with your sister down in the bunker.” Underground bunkers built from reinforced shipping containers felt a bit claustrophobic, to say the least. The fact that this one had been full to the ceiling with shelves of staples didn’t make matters better.
“Ah.”
“She showed me her tattoo,” Sky said in a whisper. “You never told me she was that sick.”
“She was. Alec is the best thing that ever happened to her. She would be dead if it weren’t for him. Now she’s happy, getting healthy, and about to get married. She wants a civil ceremony. Something quick—you know, stop by during your lunch break and tie the knot. Alec won’t hear of it.”
“He’s going to win, isn’t he?”
Logan nodded. “Definitely.”
“This is so not going to happen again,” she said after a long pause.
“You already regretting you came along?”
“Of course not. No way am I staying alone in that crazy town. I could end up kidnapped and autopsied. I mean that I’m getting my own bug-out bag. Have you looked at me? I look like a street addict, for crying out loud. I’ve been scolded for my appearance by people who consider Velcro a fashionable item. I was even offered a camo suit so that, I quote, ‘I could get out of those horrible clothes.’”
He chuckled. “I think you look gorgeous.”
“I think the fumes from dirty diapers have burned your retinas.”
“You’re fucking funny. Either way, I wouldn’t worry about bug-out bags if I were you. We probably won’t do this again before the semester starts. You’ll be safe in Paris by then.”
Ugh. Paris. She’d forgotten that for a moment.
“About that,” she started. Then she was sidetracked as a group of people armed to the teeth began to cover the school bus with camo netting. “Are you sure this place isn’t run by a doomsday cult instead of preppers?” she asked, lowering her voice.
Logan laughed, tightening his embrace. “Sure? No, I’m not sure. But these people are going out with a bang. No way are they committing collective suicide. Which is not to say they aren’t suicidal maniacs, because they are.”
“Right,” she muttered. “And you have it for a fact they aren’t some sort of violent militia with a secret agenda, set on overthrowing the government or some shit like that?”
“Please. They can’t even decide on a name for the town. No way would they agree on a common agenda.”
“Good to kno
w,” she said, shifting her feet. “The last thing I need is for the Feds to blow the compound to kingdom come. Or raid it and I get booked looking like this. Wait—it may be better if they blow it, actually.”
“Stay still,” he whispered in her ear.
His husky voice gave her goose bumps. “Can’t. I’m… antsy.”
“You aren’t antsy. You’re horny.”
That too. “That humongous erection against my behind is not helping.”
“Tell me about it. You wiggling that sweet ass around is making it worse. Settle down.” He put a hand on her belly and pressed his cock forward. “Let me help.” He kissed her neck, his hand slipping under her sweatpants.
Her breath caught in her throat. “What are you doing?”
“Hmm… babe? Why does your underwear reach up past your waist?”
“Because it’s not mine,” she retorted. “Did you know they keep camo boxers as an inventory item in the underground bunker?”
“You’re wearing camo boxers?” he asked, sounding way too amused.
“Do not remind me. Fashion-wise, this is by far my lowest point ever. I’m an embarrassment to the industry. If at some point we’re going to get smashed on moonshine, I hope it corrodes my brain. Especially the part that stores short-term memory. This is a night I need to forget.”
“What you need to do is come,” Logan said, reaching lower and brushing her sensitive pussy lips. “Your whole body is humming. Your nipples are hard. Your clit too.”
She fought to speak while he caressed her. “You were eating me out when that stupid alarm went off. If you hadn’t teased me, I would have come several times before the drill started.”
“I’ll make it up to you now.” He trailed his finger along her slit and sank it between her slick folds.
“Here? Are you nuts? There are people all around us.” Granted, she and Logan had a chest-high stone wall in front of them, but still. Preppers were buzzing everywhere, and at any second one could stray close and strike up a conversation.
“I can get you off without anyone noticing. You just need to be quiet.” He slid two fingers inside her and swallowed her moans with a demanding kiss.
“But I like making sounds,” she complained, her core flexing to accommodate him. “Let’s go farther out. I’m sure we can find a dark thicket.” She’d never been one to enjoy nature, but difficult times called for difficult decisions.
He flickered his tongue into the hollow behind her ear. “Have you forgotten where we are, Butterfly? There are motion detectors all over this compound. Trail cameras. Boobytraps. Preppers are trigger-happy at the best of times, never mind when they’re running drills. And we’re back to making do with goat intestines. I don’t carry condoms in the bug-out bag.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” She must have lost her ever-loving mind, because she said something she’d never thought she’d say in a million years. “Let’s risk it. I’m on the pill. You clean? I’d rather avoid syphilis if I can.”
He tightened his embrace while slowly finger fucking her. “I’m clean. Negative on all STDs, syphilis included, but if I know something about anything, it’s pills. Birth control pills are very sensitive to interactions with other medicine—and to puking. You’ve been sick and you’ve taken cold medicine, so the pill might not work. Plus, I’m warning you, any child of mine will live with me. I don’t believe in hospitals, and my sister is a doula. Need I say more? If you want to go bareback, I’m all for it, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She froze. “Step away from me. Two feet between us at all times.”
“I’m kidding, Butterfly,” he said with a low chuckle. “Not about the pills, though.”
“So we’re back to dry humping.”
“We’re back to you staying still and letting me work my magic. I can still taste you, babe. I close my eyes and I’m between your legs, licking this glorious pussy, feeling it contracting around my tongue. It makes me so fucking hard, I can’t think.”
“Logan…”
“Shhh. Ride my hand. Open your legs a bit. Gimme space to get deep in you.”
She obeyed, whimpering as he took full advantage and pushed his fingers all the way in.
“Yeah, like that,” he whispered hoarsely, his cock tightly pressed against her ass. “Can’t wait to have you. There are so many things I want to do to you, so many ways I want to fuck you, you won’t be able to walk properly for a week after I get my hands on you.”
Oh, God, just those words had her gasping for breath and on the verge, her core clamping around him tighter and tighter. “Please…”
“So sweet. Love how your tiny pussy sucks my fingers in. You’re getting close. Your body is tensing. Your hips are lifting. You want me to fuck you harder, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
He obliged her, sinking deeper in her and rubbing the heel of his hand on her clit at the same time, her legs almost giving way at the intense pleasure. Man, he did know what he was doing.
She reached behind and grabbed his cock, squeezing hard, relishing how it jerked.
“No,” he growled. “Or I’ll end up fucking you in front of everyone, with Arnie chewing at my throat. This is for you, Butterfly. Come for me. Show me what this pussy can do.”
She exploded in his arms as if on command. She would have shouted her release, but at the last second, he shut her up with an all-consuming kiss that brought her even higher.
“Logan?” she let out when she regained her speech capabilities.
“Yeah?”
“Forget the moonshine corroding my short-term memory. I absolutely want to remember this.”
He kissed the top of her head and chuckled. “Good.”
Chapter 10
“So how did we do on the drill? Did we pass, or would the zombies have gotten us before we made it to safety?” Logan asked Alec, who was downloading data from the drones. Whoever thought preppers were Neanderthals had no clue what they were talking about. The compound had video surveillance. Heat detectors. Atmospheric monitors. The whole shebang.
“Been in many major disaster situations. Never seen a single zombie.” Alec, bless his military soul, had no sense of humor when it came to drills.
“That’s because you’ve never seen Ty the morning after a bender,” Megan said, approaching them. She burrowed into Alec, who wrapped her in his arms.
“Hi, babe,” he said, kissing her on the lips and granting her one of those rare smiles he never bestowed upon anyone else.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Considering they’re civilians and not trained military personnel, it went quite well. No major setbacks. Although two people are still unaccounted for.” He glanced at Logan. “We were a couple of minutes late, which, I might add, has to do with you and your lady friend.”
“Me and my lady friend were unwilling participants in all this. I’d say we did a fantastic job, considering.”
“Agreed. If I’d had Megan cuffed to my bed, I would have shot anyone who interrupted.”
“How did you—”
“Your lady friend is not too skilled at hiding extra gear.”
Megan nodded. “It clinked in the truck. Lost the key in the middle of the mayhem? We always keep an extra key in—”
“Stop it.” He so didn’t want to be discussing this with his sister and her fiancé. “You know what? Alec is right. Next time someone interrupts, I’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”
“I like her,” Megan said.
“Really? Because she’s just like Vivienne, and we all know how much you hated her.”
As a matter of fact, the bitter rift between him and Megan had been caused by his inability to see what was clear to his sister. And by his sister’s inability to keep quiet. It had taken him a while to come around. Without Alec, it would have been too late, and his sister would have been lost to him. Just the thought of it made his gut churn.
Megan waved that off. “Please. Sky might dress and talk
like Vivienne, but she’s nothing like Vivienne. Take my word for it; I know how to read people. She even came down into the bunker to help me with the inventory. You know what your ex would have done?”
Run away screaming, of course. Unless a celebrity or the paparazzi were in the bunker—then she would have dived in headfirst. Vivienne would have drawn the line at commando boxers under any circumstances, though.
“Maybe I could ask Sky to do my makeup for the wedding? I saw Shayna’s pics. She looked like a million bucks. What do you think?” Megan asked Alec.
“As long as you marry me, I don’t care whether you’re wearing makeup or covered in mud.”
“Liar,” she said, slapping his chest. “I offered to find a justice of the peace and tie the knot last week. You turned me down.”
Alec trapped her hand under his. “It’s taken me a year to get you to agree to marry me. We’re celebrating, not eloping. The whole nine yards. And we’re waiting for the star shower.”
“I’m with him,” Logan added.
“Fine. I’m asking Sky to help me organize a blowout wedding with a seven-figure price tag to rival any celebrity’s. She seems to follow the trends. Prepare your wallets. Let’s see how you like it.”
Alec shrugged. “Bring it on. Money means nothing.”
“Really?” she demanded of Logan. “How much money are you making in the diaper business? Because you said you’d fork over half the wedding expenses as your present. I hope you have a nest egg stashed away from your previous CEO life.”
“She’s bluffing,” Alec said. “She hates shopping.”
Hopefully. Otherwise he was going to be in big shit. Alec had spent all his life in the military, and his money had gone into clever investments that had tripled. Logan had been the walking wallet for a wife with Kardashian pretensions.
Yelling interrupted them. It was Shayna and Ty, walking toward the main building. Well, Ty was walking; Shayna was riding, piggyback style.
“Finally. Only two hours late. It was a bad move to pair those two,” Alec said.
