A Rose by Any Other Name

by Landra Graf

  He traced a path further down her body, skimming along the top of her panties. She couldn’t breathe or form words. To say it’d been a while would’ve been an understatement. The foreplay made her crazy, and when he finally dipped beneath the silk and touched her clit, she jerked. A devious smirk, and he asked, “Okay?”

  She only got the chance to nod before his mouth latched onto her nipple, one finger sliding into her channel. A loud moan escaped her lips. Tension, like a chemical solution slowly filling a coiled test tube, began to build. He’d just gotten started, and she’d already reached critical mass; it seemed impossible.

  She roamed his back with her hands as he suckled from her, switching between breasts. He slid up inside her with two fingers while his thumb worked her clit, and she began to rock with him, bucking gently beneath his weight. Her orgasm exploded when he bit her nipple with the tip of his teeth. She cried out, and he kissed her, swallowing her cries.

  Her focus returned, and she gazed at the grinning face above hers. She couldn’t help but return his smile.

  “I never knew. I mean I knew, but not with you.” Mental forehead slap; that’s what she needed. Babbling like a fool who’d been writing with too many dry erase markers.

  He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. “You haven’t known anything yet.”

  ***

  Jason slid Emma’s panties off, watching the blush spread across her face and down her neck. He was taking it slow and ogling every square inch of her naked body, a Herculean feat considering he’d been aroused too many times to count in the last two days, this being the fourth time today alone. He wanted to enter nirvana desperately, but nothing said inconsiderate like a man willing to slake his own desire without delivering plenty of pleasure to his partner first. For the sake of making this the ‘more’ he’d originally promised, he’d make sure she received every pleasure possible before taking his own.

  With every piece of her clothing completely gone, his focus was drawn to the small black thatch of hair between her legs. He gently ran his hands along her thighs, reaching up to flick her clit. The movements she made, head turning from side to side with each touch, were the ultimate turn-on. If she reacted this way now, he couldn’t wait to be inside her, to feel her inner muscles clench against him.

  Parting her legs, he positioned himself between them. “Hold onto the couch.”

  She followed his request, grabbing hold of the armrest behind her head. He wrapped her legs round his shoulders, lifting upward, his breath coming in contact with her sweet lower lips. Then he let his tongue sink within the folds, teasing, tracing, and lapping away. Each movement was designed to stimulate her as much as he possibly could.

  She tasted sweet with an edge of salt, the perfect mix and one he’d never forget. Refusing to stay quiet, Em’s verbal appreciation of his attentions became louder with each twist of his tongue looping across her small nub and then plunging within. A small prelude to what he’d do to her later. Soon her legs tensed, her back arched further, coming off the couch, and then the dam broke. Her essence flooded his mouth, and he devoured; in fact, refused to pull away until she shuddered and pushed against his shoulders with both hands.

  He set her legs down and positioned himself at her entrance. “Are you sure?” If she changed her mind, he’d stop, even though he wanted to plunge forward with every part of his being.

  Eyes glazed over, a woman in the last thralls of pleasure, she rivaled any beauty incarnate. “Yes. Please.”

  The words sounded like a plea of sorts, and how she could still want more after two orgasms stunned him. He ripped the foil on the condom packet and slid it on. Slipping inside her, inch by creeping inch, came close to what pure bliss had to feel like. Tight heat and friction were testing every particle of patience he had.

  He groaned. “You’re so wet.”

  A final thrust let him seat himself fully. She gasped and then flexed her muscles as he pulled out, again in a deliberate, leisurely way. He enjoyed the drawn-out tease, allowing the movements to act as additional foreplay before the main show.

  Groaning, she locked eyes with him. “I need it harder.”

  Words any man would die to hear, and from her lips, they were a silky siren’s call. He moved back and then pounded forward, grabbing hold of her hips to pull her against him. His crisis grew. Her silken heat a torture device, she would slow his withdrawal then gasp on a sharp intake of breath as he ground back into her. She drove him insane, more insane than any other woman he’d taken to bed. Then she let loose, her head falling back, and he took full control.

  As he readjusted his hold to grasp her upper thighs, she shivered beneath him. He intended to get more of a reaction than that. Each new drive forward equated to him physically pulling her to meet him halfway. Flesh slapped against flesh. Soon his breath labored, balls grew tight, and cock went rigid, rock solid hard and ready to release. Relief, pleasure, and satisfaction all wanted equal reign in Jason’s mind as he saw stars, his release emerging as he cried out her name.

  Running a hand through his hair, he pulled out slowly, careful to move her legs and set them gently against the couch. He detoured to the small bathroom in the hallway and disposed of the condom. Then he soaked a hand towel in warm water, grabbed another dry cloth from the rack, and returned to her. Her eyes were closed, body languid.

  “Jason? Oh.” She giggled, eyebrows raised in skepticism as he sat by her. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking care of you,” he replied, pressing the wet cloth between her legs to clean her. Replacing the cloth with the other one, he patted to dry her. The movement caused his cock to stir again, desire he’d leave unsatisfied for now. Taking her twice in one night seemed like pushing things.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Why would you even ask?” She reached up and touched his arm. He was already sliding into his pants, a bit undone by the intimacy of the moment, living the dream, being with this girl who’d made him believe he could be a hero. He could easily ask the question because their whole world was falling apart around them. If this equated to the I-don’t-want-to-die-until-I-experience-this moment, he’d break in two. Regardless, when he turned and met her eyes filled with happiness and her body turning a light blush as he glanced over her nakedness, he pushed aside his insecurities and trusted in the emotional response her body elicited.

  “Well, we made love; a little roughly, I might add, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t hurt you.”

  “You couldn’t have hurt me. I know you wouldn’t.”

  She pulled her shirt on and grabbed a quilted blanket from the back of the couch. Jason slipped in behind her, wrapping the blanket around them. He pulled her back against him, and she sighed as he held her. The sound made him long for a chance to repeat nights like this in the future. Insecurities be damned. He wanted the opportunity to be with her indefinitely. Without impending doom.

  “Goodnight, Emma.”

  A kiss against his cheek was the only response received. Content with her nonverbal answer, he closed his eyes and mentally prayed they’d survive.

  ***

  Emmaline stared at the pictures spread across the mantel as she blew on the steaming cup of coffee in her hands. A rooster crowed in the distance, signaling a new day, a day of decisions. After a couple of hours sitting in the recliner staring between Jason’s sleeping form and the various objects around Rose’s living room, she had figured things out. The passionate night spent in Jason’s arms had melted away the tension, the pain, and made her realize she wanted to live her life with this man willing to do anything to save her. The pictures told the same story—dozens of photos with all three of them, swimming, boating, and going to concerts. At each event, he’d not only played devoted boyfriend to her best friend, he’d also protected her. Any tears she’d shed over boys or the lack thereof, he’d proved as much of a support beam as the woman responsible for the carnage ravaging the town.

  That though
t brought her to the list of ideas on how to rid Charming of the zombie problem. Such a list ran extremely short, and she wasn’t sure how they could pull anything off. One thing she still couldn’t reconcile— killing Rose, even though she kept trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter. The friend she loved was lost forever, but why did the idea of striking her down still hurt so badly?

  “Hey, you’re up.”

  Emma smiled at him as he stretched on the couch and sat up.

  “Yes, and I made coffee.”

  He frowned. “Did you have trouble sleeping? You could’ve woken me.”

  “No, no trouble sleeping because of anything. My brain was just restless. I guess I just wanted to figure a way out of this.”

  “Any luck?”

  “If you call figuring out a way to attract and kill everyone in town luck then I guess I had some.”

  He walked over to her and caressed her cheek. She leaned in and laughed as he slipped the coffee cup from her fingers and took a big drink. “Don’t beat yourself up about this. It’s not like we chose this. Things just happened.”

  “You’re right, but no matter what I do, I’m still torn. Especially about Rose.”

  “I can understand being torn. But I saw her, and I’m not sufficiently convinced.”

  She stood up from the chair. “What do you mean you saw her?”

  “I saw her, ripping away at Ewan, two blocks from Main Street.”

  “Did you do anything?” Sweet, unassuming Ewan, who’d twirled her around the floor, giving her a shot at pretending to be more than the second string side-kick who got the pity-me-dates in high school. The tears made another appearance, flowing in a steady stream. She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand and waited for Jason to say something.

  He growled and set the empty coffee cup on the table. “I’d have done something, Em, I swear, but one of Fowler’s zombie deputies rammed the side of the mustang and busted out a back window. I took off. No time to fire off a shot. But Rose stared me down, the look she gave…. Woman’s got soulless, devil eyes now.”

  “I understand. Wish you could’ve spared him the pain.” She walked over to the mantel, running a finger over the prom picture there, across her friend’s flawless tresses, immortalized forever. Pulling the trigger seemed an unattainable deed. “I would’ve hesitated, too. In fact, I did hesitate at my parents’. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be a zombie right now.”

  The truth lie in the fact that neither one of them was perfect. She couldn’t hold him to standards she’d be unable to live up to.

  “But you’re not. So give me a plan?”

  “The plan. We lure everyone into the high school and blow it up.”

  He merely raised an eyebrow and stayed silent. Not wanting to abandon the idea or leave him wondering, she verbalized her thoughts. “We can use what we know about the boiler system in the school along with some well-placed explosive items to weaken the structure and have the building collapse. With a few accelerants, we’d also have a fire on our hands.”

  “Why not just use the chemical plant?” A valid question, but an option she wanted to avoid.

  “We blow that up and hundreds of cubic feet of gaseous chemicals and residue spread through the air. I know we’re trying to save the world, but that’s like saying if I launch a nuclear weapon here, the long-term effects won’t be a big deal. I really want to keep the rest of the population beyond Charming oblivious. A fire at the high school, the possibility of it slowly spreading to the town, and all anyone finds is a reunion celebration gone wrong. Chemical plant, and we expose more people to danger and attention.”

  The plan sounded really simplistic. Of course, more facets existed, but the quick explanation worked for now.

  He stepped closer, reaching for her. “You’re forgetting one thing. What about the two people who were here, but suddenly aren’t?”

  “I’ve got an answer for that.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “We met up for the first time in ten years on Thursday night.” Another kiss, this time on the lips, savoring the taste of coffee and Jason. “Confessed to each other and our parents we were madly in love.”

  A swipe of tongue across the seam of his mouth, and his arms cinched her waist, dragging her chest in line with his. “Then we drove off into the sunset, headed for Vegas, an all-night chapel, and our happily ever after.”

  He smiled and devoured her sweet mouth again. By the time he let her come up for air, they were breathing hard and halfway undressed. “You know, I like your thinking. When do we enact this genius plan?”

  “Right after you show me how long you’ve loved me.”

  Chapter Nine

  He told, too, how…many, many princes had come and had tried to break through the thicket, but had stuck fast and died.

  “Where are we going?

  Jason didn’t bother giving Emma an answer as he barreled into a couple of guys with the front of the car. His conscience had acquired additional guilt for sideswiping his father’s secretary and the head of Charming First Deposit, but those last two were bullies from high school turned trash collectors.

  “We’re going on a supply run. You said you wanted to blow up the school, right?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  He grinned. “Then we’re going to need some heavy duty equipment.”

  The car came to a stop in front of Charming Hardware. There were a few zombies milling down the street, feeding on a dog. The sight nearly killed him, and he’d wanted to shoot the poor thing. Unfortunately, they needed the distraction if they were going to get the supplies without attracting a crowd.

  “Okay.” He focused his attention on Emma. “Are you ready to do whatever is needed?”

  She looked damn cute with her face screwed up in annoyance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That means I’m going to have my hands full. If any zombies wheel around the corner, are you ready to put them down? Remember, their souls are gone.”

  “I can do this. If it means keeping you alive, yes. I. Can. Do. This.” Each word punctuated with a pound of her fist against the dash. Adorable. He grinned at her attempts to psyche herself up for what came next. She seemed hell bent on proving her worth, grabbing the nine millimeter from her lap, releasing the safety, and positioning it in her hands like he’d taught her before they left the house.

  “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

  No surprise that the door to the hardware store was unlocked, crime never being a big issue in Charming, especially without a bunch of young punk high school students to terrorize the residents. The only downside— they had to lock the door behind them and hope a zombie hadn’t decided to roam around inside.

  “Let’s check each aisle and the back room. Follow behind me,” he said, moving into position at the far left row. They progressed down the aisles at a quick pace, stopping every few feet to listen for noises or growls.

  “How’d you learn to do this kind of stuff?” she whispered behind him.

  “Stuff?”

  “The guns, the search procedure. You’re not a cop.”

  As he reached the end of the aisle, he inhaled sharply and then made the turn. Zombie free. Then he exhaled. “Well, being in the business of demolition, you take down all sorts of properties. Small, large, condemned, remodel—doesn’t matter. You get familiar with police procedure for searching buildings to clear out homeless folk and check structure. Then those cops like hanging out with you and take you to gun ranges on weekends.”

  “Wow.”

  Coming to a dead stop, he looked back at her over his shoulder. “Wow, what? See something?”

  “Yes, this awesome person who deals with more than explosives. You should’ve told me sooner or at least given me more details. You don’t lead some boring existence in lower Wisconsin.”

  His pride perked up at her reaction to his hobbies and life. His parents and Rose had disliked his p
rofession and penchant for hanging out with cops who liked to go shooting nearly every weekend. Yet Emma surprised him again. She always did; another reason why he loved her. Love. A word he’d been keeping to himself.

  He frowned. “If this mess hadn’t occurred, I planned to—hell, I planned a lot of things for this weekend. Then the craziness started.”

  “I know you had plans, and I did, too. But we’re together, and I’m learning you’re as amazing as I always thought you were.”

  Those sweet words made the outcome of this insanity more important than ever. Death still hurt; losing the other people close to him hurt, but he embraced Emma’s love in an effort to cleanse. Their future together seemed like fate. He felt it, and he’d make sure he got a chance to enjoy it.

  “You’re equally awesome. Now we’ve got all the aisles clear. Let’s check the back.”

  Moving behind the counter, Jason swept aside the solid sheet hanging from a shower rod. Mr. Hicks, the hardware store owner, wasn’t a big fan of fancy, his makeshift door another fine example of country chic at work.

  The smile Jason wore dropped to a frown as he came face to face with the same Mr. Hicks, red-eyed, with flesh hanging from his teeth, his victim hanging from the big man’s arms, completely faceless. The six-foot-four, trucker hat wearing, hardware expert let out a low growl.

  Memories of purchasing tree house supplies and receiving advice from good ol’ Hickory, as his father called him, flashed through Jason’s mind as he raised the gun and took aim. The man he’d once considered a well-intentioned uncle lumbered forward, snarling and gnashing his rotting teeth. Before Jason could fire a shot, gunfire echoed in his ears, and Hickory crashed to the floor.

  “I used to be envious of you because the old man wouldn’t let me carry tools or supplies out of his shop. Always said carrying stuff fell under a gentleman’s responsibilities, not a lady’s,” Emma said from beside him.

  She lowered the gun, and that’s when he noticed the tear rolling down her cheek. It didn’t matter what lies they told each other—every shot fired, everybody that fell at their hands, would hurt. He lowered his gun and went to hold her, to give of himself. They needed each other to stay sane in the face of so much heartache.