by Louisa Bacio
“Strip poker?” he asked, knowing the answer but still hopeful.
“You wish.”
“Well, I did get you to strip last night, and we weren’t even playing games. What’s the incentive this time?”
Her smile flashed big. “Who gets to be on top?”
“You’ve got yourself a game.” He twirled the seat around to sit on it facing the back and leaned his elbows against the table.
“Let’s make it a little fairer to start with.” After undoing a few buttons, he rolled his shoulder out of his shirt and batted his eyelashes at her.
“Oh, come on!” She flicked a few cards at him.
“Hey, you’re pretty good at that.”
“Plenty of practice.”
“Uh-oh, don’t tell me you’re a cardshark.”
“Then I’ll make sure not to tell you.” She shook her head at him and dealt the hand. “Five-card draw.”
He watched Kayla’s expression as she picked up her cards: blank. Hmmm, she held a good poker face. He did his best to set his and then picked up his own hand. Three aces to start. Was it a setup? The serious way she studied at her own cards and moving them around as if they were magically going to transform into something else told him she wouldn’t stack his deck.
“I’ll take two, please.” He pushed them across the table toward her.
“And dealer takes one,” she said.
Damn. One card. What could she be holding? Please, please let me get a good hand.
Two kings. Hells, yes! A full house. Aces over kings. Almost impossible to beat those odds.
“I call,” she said.
Slowly, he laid down each card, and her eyes grew wider. After his last one, he reached over and tapped the bottom of her jaw shut.
“Now show me what you got.”
“You won. No worries there.” She put the deck back together then.
“No fair. You called, and I showed. What do you have?”
With a sigh, she laid down three jacks and two tens—another full house. “Ooooh, so close,” he commiserated.
“Sure, I can see you’re all torn up about it. Better to take your contacts off before we go there. You wouldn’t want them to wash out from all that crying.”
She stuck out her tongue. He grabbed the tip and gave it a little squeeze, eliciting a screech from her.
“You better watch out, or I’m going to make you use that thing,” he warned.
“I’d like to see you try.” She reshuffled the cards. “Double or nothing?”
“No freakin’ way. You didn’t say best out of three when we started. Now that I’m ahead, I want to take advantage of the situation. I want to take advantage of you. Let me tell you a little game me and the band picked up here in the good ol’ U S of A—fifty-two card pickup.” He grabbed for the deck, split it in half, and aimed upward.
“No, don’t do that!”
They shot upward and rained down upon them. Kayla laughed until tears ran down her face.
“Now weren’t you saying someone got to choose being on top?” Sebastian took her hands in his. “I think I want you on top and utilizing that tongue of yours. It seems to need a bit of exercise.”
As they moved across the bunker, toward the cots, he kissed her. Like an accelerant to a flame, passion flared out of control. He’d have her again right here, right now. They should be looking for an escape, or hatching some sort of a plan to conquer the locked door, but the moment their lips met, though, all thoughts of escape fled. She tasted like the cookies, all cinnamon sugar, sweet with an underlying spicy flair. After such a short time together, he was discovering her many layers and her complexity intrigued him.
He pushed down her shorts, happy to find bare arse under his wandering hands.
“What’s fair is fair.” She returned the favor by removing his borrowed sweatpants. A burst of cool air brushed over his cock. Like she didn’t want to know when he’d stocked the condoms in the guitar, he didn’t want to know about the change of men’s clothing in the shelter.
“Who got the top, winner or loser?” she asked.
“You,” he said, lifting his hips upward. “The answer would be you.”
“Good.” She stroked him, exposing the tip of his cock, and then leaned forward to envelope him in her mouth. She cupped his balls, massaging gently, as she sucked.
Eyes closed, he took in the sensations. Every nerve in his body fired sensual alerts. If this was how they’d pass the time together, he’d be happy to stay. The warmth of her mouth disappeared and he opened his eyes. She leaned over and grabbed a condom from their stash and put it on him.
“Ready for me?” She straddled him.
The moment of anticipation stretched, and his heart ached for the moment to last forever. She looked at him with longing and desire, her eyes half-mast and her mouth turned up in a sultry smile.
He didn’t bother to answer. His cock jumped at the question.
She sank onto him, sighing as she took him to the hilt. Bracing her, he held onto her hips, thrusting upward as much as possible. She rode him hard, head tossed back and her clit rubbing against his pelvic bone. Their movement shook the cot beneath them, while overhead, the shelves shuddered.
Couldn’t be, could it?
“Aftershock,” she said, clamping down hard and increasing the rhythm. “Let’s ride it out.”
Her moans of pleasure came out in a staccato of pants as she came. Once stilled, she draped her lush body over his and trembled. He ran his fingers along her damp back and thrust upward, taking his fill. His orgasm lasted longer than the temblor.
With a contented sigh, she slipped off and cuddled beside him. Her breathing settled as she drifted off to sleep.
Still wired, his mind turned toward the lyrics floating about his head, his writer’s block gone
Bunker Girl
You bring sunshine to the darkness.
Light to the shadows
And love to my life.
***
He couldn’t sleep. It was the third night, and maybe their last.
Sebastian’s heart raced as he lay in the dark, thinking about her and his life up to this point. He hadn’t opened himself up to the possibility of a relationship. Sure, he dated, and he’d been with more than his fair share of women, especially the first few years on the road, but that had grown old quick. They’d all been a gaggle of giggles with bouncing boobs and no depth. They all wanted to touch the magic, steal a piece of him, but, after the sex, a hollowness had filled him, as if they removed a chunk of his soul when they’d left his bed.
He ran a hand through his hair. All in all, it sounded a bit melodramatic, and he definitely wasn’t a drama queen. He supposed he’d gotten something in return. Some sort of muse, energy sucker that he was. Time passed; it had worn him down. When the screaming crowd chased after him, he ran. Let the bodyguards earn their money.
He pushed aside the callous thought.
This past year, he’d spent more time isolated, working on his next album, or so the publicity wranglers explained. In truth, he was hiding from the darkness threatening to smother him, licking his wounds, and praying for the musical muses to return. He couldn’t find them in mindless parties or alcohol-induced slumbers. A tropical-island vacation proved to be a waste of time. All he came home with was a peeling back from a rubbish sunburn. Who decided it was a good idea to shove the Brit in the hot sun with some oil?
In order to stay relevant, they needed something new, the reason his manager had insisted upon shooting this new video. It would be kind of a quirky documentary promo. Instead, he’d found his inspiration dug deep beneath the earth.
Kayla threw her arm over her head and mumbled in her sleep. Energy consumed the woman during her waking hours. Rather than be at peace while asleep tonight, she didn’t rest. Maybe dreams plagued her. Or maybe she was the one who needed an island vacation.
Images of pouring oil over his palms, warming it, and then spreading it over her bikini-clad bo
dy filtered through his mind. With the canary-yellow dress she’d been wearing the first day, he could imagine her in a bathing suit of the same hue. Whenever he saw the color from now on, he’d forever think of her and this time spent together.
How could he ever forget?
So what was it about this one? She knew who he was, and she didn’t care. She’d seemed uncomfortable when they first met, even put off. His celebrity didn’t impress her, and while she looked downright cute in her sunny dress, she hadn’t dressed super sexy and provocative, like many other women in the same position would.
Nope, she hadn’t been focused on selling herself. Instead, she’d wanted to get him in and out in as short an amount of time as possible.
Maybe he should be thanking Mother Nature for causing the earth to quiver, trapping them together. Turned out to be quite beneficial after all. Plus, the shadows in his mind had receded. The impossible had happened. He’d been trapped underground again and survived. Brushing back a lock of her hair, he embraced Kayla as she settled her body against his. He watched the steady rise and fall of her bare breasts, relishing the feel of where she pressed against him. She tucked her head under his chin, and rested one hand on his.
What did her actions mean? Did he have the same calming effect on her. For some reason, the thought gave him solace. He wasn’t the only one invested in this thing between them—what kind of relationship could they possibly have after they’d been trapped in the bunker together for two days? The closeness they shared wasn’t only in his imagination.
Something within him also called to her. She trusted him, too. Trusted him with her body, and her soul. Would she move aside some of the blocks in her heart and let him have a place there, too?
He might have some work cut out for him, but if the past few days had taught him anything, it was he had some pretty damn good survival instincts himself.
If he wanted a spot in Kayla’s heart, he’d have to prove himself to her. He wasn’t quite sure how. She’d not only built up this physical bunker to keep herself protected, but she also had more than a few walls of safety around her heart, too.
Time and persistence were keys, and maybe some good loving.
Chapter Nine
Chewing on the end of a pencil, Sebastian seemed deep in thought. Kayla watched as he pulled the pencil from his sinful lips, made a note, and then closed the notebook.
She caught a flash of silver. “What’s that?”
“Songwriting book.” He held it up.
“No, I saw something. Do you have a paper clip?”
“Yep. A lazy-guy bookmark.”
She kneeled next to him, and held out her hand. “Let me have it.”
“My marker? What for?”
“A lock pick.” His eyes grew wide and he smiled, handing it over.
She unfolded the metal, careful not to snap it. Paper clips might be worth pennies, but this one was priceless.
With the key to their exit in the palm of her hand, she hesitated. Sebastian wagged his eyebrows at her. Once they got out of there, though, who knew what would happen? Despite how close they’d grown, outside lay the real world, and their lives didn’t mesh. Would their time together be over?
But the fear of what life would be like on the outside wasn’t a reason to stay trapped in the bunker. She unfolded the metal and put the paper clip into the lock and jiggled. If she hit the internal mechanism just right, it would pop open. The clicking of the opening locks resounded with a finality that tugged at Kayla’s heart. Their time together was over.
“You did it!” Sebastian picked her up and twirled her around, as much as he could in such a confined space.
Putting on a brave face, she said, “Ready to go out there?”
“Hell yes!”
She understood his enthusiasm. Really, she did. But did he have to be so excited to get out of the bunker, away from her?
She’d kept him entertained, mentally and physically, and now he was ready to leave her—and the time they’d spent together—behind. It wasn’t like they could stay in there forever. She hesitated, thinking she should have waited the last few hours before the door opened by itself. They’d spent so much talking about themselves, and yet they hadn’t discussed what would happen once they got out.
The metal cooled her hands, and a chill crept into her bones. She closed her eyes, telling herself to be strong. Whatever happened, would happen. She couldn’t change the outcome, and a few more hours wouldn’t make a difference.
“Here, help me push the door open,” she said.
Side by side, they leaned their shoulders against the heavy door, until something gave on the other side and they came tumbling out. Sunlight blinded her, and she shielded her eyes.
“I never thought I’d ever be so happy to see the sun again,” he said, squinting. “Forget about wishing I was a vampire because I love the night so much. Now I understand the hardship of going without sunlight.”
He barreled up the walkway. “Come on,” he said, looking back and holding out his hand. “What do you want to do first? Microwave some popcorn? How about taking a hot shower with me?” He raised his eyebrows in a comical come-hither expression.
Despite the tumble of emotions plaguing her, her mood lightened. He made it impossible for her to stay serious, which was one of the things she liked about him.
“Maybe we should call and check in with a few people first,” she suggested. “You know, those people who might have been looking for us? I should call my sister and catch the news, see if there was any damage.”
“So practical, you are,” he replied, stopping again, this time to give her a kiss. “Maybe we can even make love later, in a real bed.”
The use of the word “later” caught her attention. “You’re not going to rush out of here and leave me behind?” That was her ultimate fear. Not another natural disaster, but him walking out and dropping her like nothing had happened between them. Like he hadn’t made love to her and etched himself into her heart.
“Are you crazy? I only just got to meet you, and not under the best of circumstances either. After all we went through, you’re going to be hard-pressed to get rid of me.”
Her pulse picked up. “You live in the fast lane of a freeway, and I move at the pace of a school zone. What could you gain hanging out with me?”
Now at the back door to her house, he stopped. “Seriously? Are we going to have to go through this now? I understand insecurities, but you’re a gorgeous, intelligent, and self-sufficient woman. The only woman I know who has an emergency bunker hidden in her backyard.”
“Fine lot of good it did us these past few days. We were lucky not to have been buried alive in that earthquake.”
He shuddered, and she wished she could have taken back the “buried alive” statement.
“Don’t belittle yourself,” he said, standing back and letting her enter first. “We’ve had enough scrutiny and downers over the past few days. Right now, it’s time to celebrate our freedom.”
Inside her house, everything looked the same—comfortable, familiar, and inviting. She longed to stretch out on the couch and turn on the television. It dawned on her it wouldn’t be the same again. Being stuck with Sebastian had changed her.
Over the past few days, she’d thought about his question about “hiding” from everybody. His observation shook her to the core. She’d always been prepared. It was how she was raised. Recently, others had caught up with the trend, but the thought that isolating herself was akin to running scared. Well, it was a reality she didn’t quite want to face.
She turned toward him. She had a question she wanted to ask, but at the same time was afraid of it. Usually, her boss at the agency handled the closing of the deals. This one was all her, and she had more at stake.
“Can you lead me to your shower?” Sebastian asked, oblivious to her distress. “I need to clean up, and I can’t wait to feel the hot water. I hope you’re not one of those women who like it lukewarm; we’re going
burning.”
She stopped, watching him, as if ready for him to turn into a mystical creature she didn’t know if she believed in. Could he be everything she imagined?
“Really, Sebastian, what are your plans?”
At his pause, her stomach tightened. She looked away, noticing a new crack running down one wall.
He moved closed to her, until his breath tickled the back of her neck. “Why did I come here? To rent the bunker for the latest video with my band.” He leaned in, kissing behind her ear. “It’s perfect, and think about the connection of singing the new song there.”
Her hopes soared. Could he be saying what she thought he was?
“And you do know,” he said, slipping his hands around her waist and drawing her close, “I’m going to need someplace to stay while we do the shooting….”
Right now, the real world wasn’t looking all that scary. “I might be able to help out with that.”
“I was hoping you’d volunteer. You wouldn’t mind if I stayed up late and practiced, would you?”
“No worries,” she said, a grin loony with happiness hurting her cheeks. “If you get too loud, I’ve got a bunker you can use.”
Storage Tips
Louisa Bacio used to work for a magazine focused on American survival. One specialty feature was on the proper storage of whole grains, using a mill at home, and making breads.
Flour must be stored in a cool, dry place. It is suggested you store the flour in plastic bags, freeze for two days to kill any sort of inherent insect, and then store in a sealed container. Ground flour is expected to last at least seven months. If stored properly, unground hard wheat is estimated to last upward of thirty years.
Ideally, a shelter should be stocked with several types of products: immediate use, long-term use, and seed for planting for the future.
~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~
