* * *
Wind whipped her hair back as the motorcycle traveled down the country road. The fall air was crisp, and Nina shivered, pulling in tighter to Creed’s leather-clad torso. She fell into a trance after a while, the rumbling of the bike under them, the cold air against them, her hands holding firmly onto Creed.
The roads were surprisingly clear of cars here in the country, so they were able to drive relatively quickly without too many stops to navigate the bike gingerly around obstacles. They took a break for lunch, parking Creed’s motorcycle in the middle of the road and sitting on the asphalt, like they were having a strange picnic. The storm clouds they’d spotted in the morning had faded.
Nina fished two MREs out of one of the saddlebags she’d stuffed with food before leaving her parents’ house.
“Here,” she said, tossing a random package at Creed.
He examined it. “Tuna casserole? Sweetheart, that’s about the shittiest food even when it’s not prepared to last an eternity.”
She shrugged, not in the mood for games. “Sorry it’s not a gourmet meal,” she said, snatching it from his hands and handing him another one.
He looked at her for a long moment, most likely trying to assess why she was in such a bad mood. She didn’t want to talk, though, so he’d just have to keep on silently guessing.
Finally he smirked. “Who pissed in your MRE?” he asked. “And honestly, don’t lie here, do you think that would make it taste worse, or better?” He raised an eyebrow.
She couldn’t help it. A smile cracked through her stubborn bad mood.
“And there it is.” Creed grinned, tore open his meal packet, and poured water from a drinking bottle to the fill line. These MREs had a built-in heater, and Nina watched Creed sniff the food, then start shoveling food into his mouth before it was even warm.
“You’re such a slob,” she said, unable to keep herself from going back to their usual banter. As much as she wanted to remain aloof, it was hard.
“This isn’t Downton fucking Abbey.” Creed made a show of licking his finger, and despite herself, Nina felt a surge of arousal hit her out of nowhere.
“Doesn’t mean you have to turn into a caveman,” said Nina, ripping open the tuna casserole MRE. “Oh. God.” She held it out in front of her as the smell of cat food filled her nose.
“Too bad it’s not a gourmet meal.” Creed echoed her words from before, winking at her as he did. “Makes you wonder if it’s tuna in here, or chopped-up roadkill, right? These things are practically indistinguishable. Still, protein is protein. Eat up.”
“You are such as asshole,” she muttered, but she was smiling as she filled her pack with water and waited for it to heat up. It was gross, but she was amazed at how willing her body was to consume things that previously she’d never have touched.
She watched Creed as she ate. He was sitting on the ground, his leather jacket unzipped so she could see where his T-shirt tucked into his jeans, his washboard abs apparent even through his clothes. The muscles of his legs were obvious under the denim that covered them, and Nina felt herself tingle thinking that she knew exactly what those legs felt like. She’d run her hands over each and every muscle of his corded limbs as they caged her in, as he made love to her that morning. No, not love. Sex. They’d had sex. They’d fucked, according to Creed.
She was being stupid to even think the word love. You don’t fall in love during the apocalypse. Not that there was an Apocalypse Rulebook out there. But if there was, that would be rule #1. Sex? Yes. Love? No. Way too risky. There was too much chance of losing people. Already she was afraid—more afraid than she’d ever been of anything in her life—that she’d get to her grandmother’s house to find it vacant. Abandoned. Destroyed. No sign of her family anywhere. She wasn’t sure she could survive that. And there was no way she was going to open herself up to any more of that, to another person she might lose.
CHAPTER EIGHT
–Creed–
They rode for two more hours after lunch, the afternoon sky growing darker quickly. Creed knew they needed to find a place to stay for the night, a place they could make warm either through body heat (his preferred method), fire, or both. They’d been traveling steadily on country roads that were ridiculously beautiful, leaves falling gently to the ground, as though everything was normal with the world. Except, of course it wasn’t. Far fucking from it.
He was glad they were riding so they couldn’t talk, because he felt like they needed to discuss the fact that they’d fucked that morning, needed to get things straight. But what was there, really, to straighten out? They’d slept together. And he wanted to do it again. And again. Make it part of their routine. Should they talk about that? Or, with someone like Nina, would that make it worse? He’d known he shouldn’t get involved like this.
He was checking out the farmhouses as they passed, looking for a good place to board themselves in for the night, when he saw movement up ahead. Two people near a car, both looking at him and Nina as they drew closer. He slowed the bike and felt Nina’s body shift. He knew she was getting ready, knew her hand was hovering over her revolver.
It was an older couple, probably in their sixties, the woman looking frazzled and afraid, the man pointing a rifle directly at them. Driving closer, Creed put one hand in the air to signal peace, but he was ready, like Nina, to grab his gun in a split second if necessary. Rationally he knew he should just keep driving past, but something compelled him to talk to these people. Gut reaction. He’d never been steered wrong by his instincts.
He stopped the bike when they hit the gravel driveway leading up to the house, which was surrounded by cornfields as far as he could see. Perfect season for it, he thought, thinking of the vast amount of only slightly overgrown corn out there.
“Don’t come any closer.” The man, with white hair and a long white beard, like a skinny version of Santa Claus, lifted the rifle higher.
Creed swung off the bike and put both hands in the air. He heard Nina whisper, “Careful,” behind him, but he ignored her and took a step closer.
“I said, stay the hell back.” The man’s voice was loud but shaky, and Creed saw the woman touch his arm, whisper something.
“We’re not dangerous,” said Creed. “We’re just passing through.”
“Then keep passing,” hissed the man, gesturing with his head for the woman to continue loading up the car with bags near her feet. She was thin too, her long white hair pulled back and spun up into a bun. Her jeans looked old and dirty. Her sweatshirt, on the other hand, was a bright and clean pink, with sparkly swirls surrounding a gray and white cartoon kitten with an impossibly pink nose. Why the hell was he even noticing that? he wondered, returning his attention to the man.
“We’ll be on our way, then.” He began to get back on his bike, but Nina was walking toward the couple. “Nina. Let’s go,” he said, his voice harsh.
“I just want to say hello.” Nina’s voice had that stubborn edge he knew so well now.
“I don’t think they’re trying to make friends,” he hissed, but it was too late.
“Hi,” Nina was saying to the couple. “We’re seriously just passing through. I only wanted to... I haven’t seen... You’re the first people other than him that I’ve spoken to for days. Weeks. I just wanted to say hi.”
The man lowered his gun slightly. Because he’s looking at a hot chick, thought Creed, half bitterly and half in complete understanding.
The woman turned to Nina, eyes sunken, the circles under them like purple half-moons. “You’re going the wrong way.” When she spoke her voice crackled as though she hadn’t used it in a long time.
“What do you mean?” asked Nina.
Creed felt his hair stand on end at the old woman’s words. She spoke with certainty and fear.
“Let ‘em go on their way, Mary,” said the man. “And keep packing.” He raised the gun again, and this time Creed heard the unmistakable sound of the safety clicking off. “You two get on that bi
ke now and drive away from here. I don’t care which way. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” said Creed. “Nina. Let’s go.”
Nina wasn’t stupid, and Creed could tell she understood the danger they were in. She slowly turned back to Creed, when suddenly the old woman ran up to Nina and grabbed her, muttering something in her ear. Creed couldn’t make out the words, and he was focused on the old man, whose face was lined with anger as he yelled at the woman to get back to the car.
“Hold on tight,” Creed urged as Nina straddled the bike. He spun out on the gravel before gaining traction on the road, accelerating as quickly as he could. He didn’t think the man would shoot them, but you never know. He was pissed at himself for being so careless. Stupid to stop like that. His stomach felt tight, like a snake of tension was coiled inside, ready to strike any second.
They rode fast for a few minutes, stress leaving his body second by second as they put more distance between themselves and the old couple. He wasn’t sure how long he drove them hard across the empty road, but after a little while Nina yelled, “Stop. Creed, stop.” He slowed down and stopped right along the dotted yellow line in the middle of the road. He could feel Nina’s body relax behind him as she let go, shook out her arms.
“You OK?” he asked.
“Yes. No. Creed. We have to turn around.”
“What are you talking about, Nina? That guy will shoot us if we come near his house again.”
“No. Creed, listen. The old lady?” Nina’s words were breathless. “She told me they’re leaving as soon as they can. She said there’s a, I don’t know, gang this way. She said it’s a group of people who are on a killing spree. They’re violent.”
“How does she know that? Did she see it on the evening news?” He was being sarcastic, but there was nothing funny about this. Gangs of criminals, of assholes wanting nothing but to reign in short but violent glory was the one thing he’d been most worried about. In his worst nightmares it was other people he most feared; brutal, uncaring men who took what they wanted, throwing other people aside like trash as they made their way through the world.
“I don’t know, Creed. But I don’t think she was lying. “ He could hear the frustration in her voice, mirroring his own feelings.
“Fuck.” He didn’t know what to do. And he hated not knowing what to do. Uncertainty killed him; it left too much room for doubt, too little strength to summon the confidence he needed to push forward. It was better to wait until they could see things clearer, and it was getting dark as dusk was closing in around them. “Nina, we need to stop for the night.”
“Next house?” she asked.
“No. We don’t know what’s ahead. We’ll stay here.”
“Where?” Nina looked around, and Creed followed her gaze. There was nothing. No houses in eyesight. Just fields on one side of the road, woods on the other.
He nodded toward the woods. Nina got off the bike and he walked it off to the side of the road, then in between trees and over the soft carpet of leaves beneath their feet deeper and deeper into the forest. They needed to remain unseen from the road, hidden as best as they could.
Finally he stopped, parking the motorcycle between two trees and unfastening the rolled-up sleeping bag he’d attached to the back of the bike. He tossed it onto the ground unceremoniously. He didn’t like this. Didn’t like not knowing if that old woman was full of shit or telling the truth, and if the latter, how far ahead the supposed gang was.
“You going to fix me dinner, sweetheart?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood, but the tension was everywhere—in the trees, the growing darkness, and both him and Nina.
“You get the Tuna Delight this time,” she shot back at him, but her tone was heavy with worry. “What are we going to do tomorrow?” she asked. “Find a different route?”
“Don’t know.” Creed spread the sleeping bag out and gestured for her to sit down next to him. He tore the wrapper off a granola bar that Nina handed him and ate it in two bites. “We’ll see. Check the map in the morning.”
“OK.” Nina took a small bite of her granola bar.
“Eat.” It was an order, and he wasn’t surprised when Nina shot him a stubborn look.
“You can’t order me around, Creed.”
“You won’t be much of a help to me or yourself if you’re weak.”
She narrowed her eyes at him but took another bite of her granola bar. Wind blew through the trees, rustling the leaves around them, and her body convulsed in shivers. It was cold and bound to get down into the thirties at night. A fire would give away their location if it was true about the gang. At least the sleeping bag was rated to twenty degrees.
“Get in,” he said, gesturing at the bag.
“Where are you going to sleep?” she asked.
Creed laughed out loud. “That’s funny. Get in.”
She did, and he took off his leather jacket, folding it in half and placing it down as a pillow. “Scoot over,” he said, heart thumping as he lowered his body to the ground.
The sound of a motor on the road startled him, and he froze as he listened to a vehicle approach, then grow quieter once more as it passed them. It was ridiculous that a car passing by could make his heart pound like that, but he had to operate under the assumption that everyone out there was evil. Doing anything less was sure to get them both killed. He could see the alarm in Nina’s eyes too as she stared in the direction of the road. They were far enough away from it that they couldn’t see it, but close enough that they could hear.
“Bedtime,” he muttered, lowering himself once more and squirming into the bag next to Nina.
“Ow,” she complained as he accidentally kicked her shin. “You’re too big.”
“Oh honey, that’s not what you said this morning,” he said in a purposely low voice.
“Ugh, Creed! You’re squishing me!” Her voice was a playful whine.
“I think you like it when I do that.”
“Creed,” she said, a hint of warning in her voice as she pushed against him to get comfortable. “This is the most uncomfortable pillow ever.”
“This isn’t the fucking Marriott.”
“You’ve already made that joke,” she said, her teeth chattering as she spoke.
“Even better the second time around, like tuna casserole,” he joked, but another noise from the surroundings had him on high alert.
Dammit. He hated that they were outside, exposed to the elements like this. He felt like an asshole, a fool, for not planning ahead better, for not finding them an actual roof to sleep under.
“Come here.” He grabbed her hard against him, pulling her ass up against his crotch. Which, of course, was already twitching, the proximity to Nina making his cock come to life.
“What?” She struggled slightly but settled back against him quickly, eager, he knew, for the warmth. And maybe because she felt it too, the undeniable desire that coursed between them. She had to feel it. There was no way this morning would have happened if she didn’t want him as much as he wanted her.
“Don’t. Move. So much,” he muttered. It was pure agony to feel her ass rubbing against his dick, even through the barrier of their clothes.
“It’s not like I have much space,” she argued.
“You are aware of what happens every time you fidget against me, sweetheart, aren’t you?”
“I can feel it, Creed,” she answered in a smart-ass tone.
Her voice made him want to fuck the smart-ass right out of her, leave her breathless and pliant and soft like he had only hours ago, despite the fact that he’d known it was a mistake. “Nina, hold still or I’m no longer responsible for what I do.”
“Oh yeah?” Her body went completely still. Then, suddenly, she wriggled her hips, gyrating purposely against his already rock-hard cock.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
“OK,” she whispered, and his heart pounded as hard as the throbbing in his cock.
He couldn’t move quickly enoug
h, reaching around her to unzip her jeans, pushing them down with both his hands and his feet, needing to feel her, to touch her, to be inside of her. With equal urgency she helped remove her clothes from the waist down. He lowered his jeans and boxers, fumbling with urgency, not even bothering to take them all the way off.
“Just like this,” he growled into her ear as he grasped her, pulling her bare ass toward his cock. Snaking a hand between her legs, he felt her pussy, so soft and wet and ready for him.
Nina’s body was hot, firm, her breath coming out in small moans as she moved her body to line up with his. With one hand between her legs, he guided his hardness inside her from behind so the tip was in, then slowly, holding back as much as he could, pushing into her wetness.
She melted in his arms, moaning into the cold night air, and he pulled out, then sank in once more. It felt so good, so impossibly good. The only thing that mattered at that moment was Nina and her body.
If he’d stopped long enough to consider it, he’d have been scared of how powerful this was, this feeling of near-perfection in an otherwise chaotic world, but he didn’t. There was nothing that could stop him as he thrust into her, slowly at first, taking a luxuriant pace, and then quicker as her breathing and moans accelerated.
“Touch yourself,” he demanded in a harsh whisper.
When her right hand moved lower to touch her clit, his cock throbbed even harder and his balls tightened. He needed to come. He was going to come. It would feel so good, but he would wait for Nina. Her hand moved quickly over her bud; he could feel her body writhe as she touched herself in time to his thrusts. Her pussy was so wet, so hot, tightening up around his cock as she came closer to orgasm.
“Nina,” he muttered, “you feel so fucking good right now.”
Afterglow: An Apocalypse Romance Page 10
