by Gina Kincade
“Gabe?”
Wylee shifted, aware of the stiffness in her body and the discomfort of the hard mattress beneath her. She blinked away the sleep and opened her eyes.
And there he sat at her bedside, hand in hers, slumped over with his head nuzzled into her arm. A wave of love and immense affection washed through her, just like she’d experienced during their vacation on Barracuda Island.
She scrunched her nose and narrowed her eyes, thinking, racking her brain.
Barracuda, barracuda…
Then she remembered.
“Gabe.” She sat upright—they’d apparently released her restraints during her unconsciousness. She shook him. “Gabe.”
He mumbled, startling before lifting his head and latching his gaze onto hers. “Who—what? Huh?”
She couldn’t suppress her grin. He looked so handsome with his blue-green eyes blinking back the gleam of slumber. “Hi, husband-to-be.”
“Wylee. Oh, thank God. You’re awake.” He pulled her into his arms and squeezed her so tightly she could barely breathe.
“Of course I’m awake. No way I’m going to let you get away without marrying me.” She spun her ring around on her finger and held it up over his shoulder, studying the way it glittered by the soft ICU lighting.
I’m going to marry him.
He gripped her upper arms and pulled her away until he could look her in the eyes. “How do you feel?”
“Great,” she said with a bubbly laugh. “Never better. Why?”
He shook his head. “Wow. It’s amazing.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been in a coma for over a week.”
“A week?” She’d been out for an entire week? Wow. She stretched, testing her muscles, and noted she did have some soreness, but no more than a long night of sleeping like a log. She flipped back the sheet and blanket. And thank goodness they’d removed the catheter. “Well, I certainly feel as if I’ve rested up for that long.”
He shook his head. “This is unbelievable. You’ve gone from a complete comatose state to…to this?” He crossed his arms and studied her, his gaze moving over her face as if he searched for answers in her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth. “Wylee, I’m not joking. It’s as if you’ve been given a miracle drug. And your bloodwork, your labs. You should see them. You’re not going to believe the—”
She pushed him away and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Really? Well, let’s go get the chart.”
He pressed his palm to her chest. “Babe, stop. You still need to rest. You’re—”
“Are you kidding? You’re a doctor. You should be telling me to ambulate, get up and move as soon as possible.” She brushed him aside, ripped off the EKG leads and blood pressure cuff, and slid from the bed. The machines beeped and flatlined. She reached over and silenced them with a punch of a few buttons, then she disconnected the IV line from the port in her arm and tossed the tubing over the IV pole. She had a moment of slight dizziness, but she gripped the bedside table and got her bearings.
“You okay?”
“Fine. Except my ankle burns like a son of a bitch.” She noted she had on two hospital gowns, one backward, one open in the front like a robe. Good. No ass peeking, though she did wonder if Gabe had stripped her and dressed her this way. She supposed she should cover her feet, so she dug through the plastic pink bath basin, tossing aside mouthwash, toothbrush and toothpaste, a cheap comb, and some paperwork before finding the sealed package of grip slippers.
After putting them on, she looked down at the ugly things and wiggled her toes. “I like my leather boots way more.”
He followed her out to the nurses’ station. “They’re…they got tossed. The rip from the bite, ya know? As far as your ankle, that’s normal. I ordered the bite site excised, biopsied, and cultured. Hey, wait. Where are you going? There’s a computer at the bedside.”
“I need some air, Doctor. Gotta get out of that tiny room. And I’m craving a Coke like crazy.”
Several staff bustled around, ignoring them for the most part. She detoured into the unit’s snack kitchen and grabbed a soda from the refrigerator. The pop of the can echoed over the noise of staff chatter and machines. She took a swig and swallowed back half of the cola. It gave her that satisfying burn in her throat. She chose a seat and logged into the nearest computer, then scrolled through the unit’s patient list until she found herself.
“Wylee, listen to me. I really wish you wouldn’t drink that Coke, because—”
“Holy shit.” She scanned the screen, comparing her results to the normal values. “You’re right. My labs and test results are amazing. I’m more healthy now than I’ve ever been.”
He spun her around in her chair and grabbed her face in his hands. “Wylee. Shh.” He gently shook her. “Will you just shut up and listen to me?”
She held his impatient gaze, her thoughts swirling with her dream—no, her memory of their vacation and how it fit into the Twilight Cove crusties outbreak. “But wait, I have to finish, get this out. The boy. Remember the boy you had to…you had to eliminate? We saw him at the lighthouse resort on Barracuda Island in the pool. And the barracuda kabobs. I ate them—a lot of them. Remember? I ate a bunch of barracuda on the kabobs that night, and I bet you ten to one the resort catered the massage, didn’t they?”
“Yes.”
“And then there was the CDC’s warning the day before that. I remember getting a little sick to my stomach, but that was it. Either I got a mild case, or it was my imagination. But maybe the little boy ate some and it made him like…like that?”
Gabe released a slow breath and leaned back in his chair. “Wylee?”
“What?”
“Will you please let me talk now?”
She started to say something, but clamped her mouth shut when his eyebrow arched in warning. Instead, she grabbed her Coke and took a careful sip. She eyed him over the rim of the can. “Sure. Of course.”
“While my Sleeping Beauty here floated in dreamland for over a week, the CDC, FDA, county, state, and federal health departments, and every other outfit you could possibly imagine, have been hard at work quarantining the bi-state area and researching. They have, indeed, traced the outbreak to the ingestion of barracuda along the Georgia and Florida coasts.”
Wylee gasped and slapped the desktop.
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Now hold on. Just let me finish, okay?”
She nodded, unable to blink or drag her gaze from his. Her head spun with the news. Her ears were perked more than they’d ever been freaking perked in her life.
“But the pregnant rotter we saw? Rather than having eaten some barracuda, she had to have been bitten by another mutant, in which case, it was too late for her. Once the body changes like that, there’s no turning back. But women who are immune and later ingest infected barracuda, they are protected from the newly mutated toxins that cause the pre-death stage where they behave like predators—barracuda, if you will. If later bitten by a rotter, these immune women only present with mild flu-like symptoms while their antibodies fight off the toxins. Not one case has been found of an immune person turning into a decayer.”
“Immune? What gives them immunity?”
He clicked to various screens and pointed to her lab results. “Pregnancy.”
“Preg— What?”
He tapped the computer screen. “See your antibodies from a week ago? Elevated, probably due to the bite a few hours prior, but most likely lower than they were after you had the fish on Barracuda Island. I recall you mentioning several times the week we got back to Twilight Cove that you felt feverish like you had the flu. Now compare your results as each day went by. They spike, and then gradually fall back into normal ranges. It was probably a combination of being in your first trimester and then your immune system fighting off the toxins from eating the barracuda.”
“Whoa. Hold on. So, I ate the barracuda that night and my body—because I was p-pregnant—fought off the toxins an
d built up my antibodies? Y-you’re telling me I’m pregnant, and I have been since before we went on vacation and I ate those barracuda kabobs? And so then when I got bitten, I was already protected?”
He grinned, clearly pleased she’d grasped the concept, then he took her face in his hands and kissed her so passionately, she almost forgot what they were talking about. The spot between her legs dampened, but all she noticed was the dampness in her eyes when he replied, “Yes. You’re pregnant, and you’re going to have my babies.”
“Babies?”
He grabbed the computer mouse and clicked to the radiology findings. The results of an ultrasound filled the screen.
Wylee gulped.
“Twins,” he said, his voice catching with his own emotion. “We’re having twins, Wylee.”
Chapter Six
Two weeks later…
Gabe rather liked the Ashbourne Funeral Home. Although some might think it creepy to purchase it as a primary residence, he didn’t mind it.
And neither did Wylee.
She’d been thrilled when their contract offer had been accepted last week by the owner’s only surviving heir. They closed on the massive property and received the keys yesterday, and the movers had just carried in the last box and bit of furniture not an hour ago.
She tiptoed from the nursery and peeked through the narrowing crack, catching every last possible glimpse of the twins’ empty cribs before the door clicked in the doorjamb.
“It’s going to make the perfect nursery. I adore those cribs,” she said, stroking her still flat belly. Her whimsical tone accentuated the love and beauty shining from her eyes.
“Me, too, darlin’. The three of you are going to make me the happiest man in the world.”
“You know what would make me happy right now?”
“No. What? Practice on making some more babies…hopefully?” he asked as they strolled hand-in-hand down the carpeted hall and took the sweeping stairway toward the foyer.
She laughed and the tinkling song of it captured his heart and stroked his cock. “Um, no. Not just yet. Between work, moving and unpacking, and you and your…appetite, I’m exhausted. How about some wine and a movie?”
“Appetite?” They continued to descend the long stairway. “Sweetheart, you haven’t seen the full extent of my ‘appetite’ yet. Speaking of which, uh, we got something in the mail from Gideon and Megyn on Barracuda Island.”
She paused on the bottom step and gazed at him, her sexy crystal eyes never failing to make his pulse speed up a few extra miles per hour. “What would they possibly have to send us? Did we forget something?”
“Remember the tent and the massage?”
“Of course I remember. How could I forget?” She smiled and followed him into the den. “They sent us the tent?”
“Ha! No, darlin’, no.”
He had the big-screen TV already installed above the fireplace. All he had to do was pluck up the remote, because he’d already popped the cork and had her pegged for a wine night. He lounged on the U-shaped sofa and poured wine in stemware he’d set on the coffee table.
He patted the cushion next to him. “Well, sit down. I’ll show you what they sent us. It’s a movie…”
“A movie?” She gave a hollow laugh. “What, an island-resort promotional video to get us to come back? Should I go make some popcorn?” Her voice was husky, teasing. She snuggled into him, pressed a warm hand to his chest, and rained soft kisses along his neck.
Gabe sucked in a hiss through clamped teeth. His cock already started hardening behind his zipper. “Believe me, you’re not going to want to eat when you watch this. At least not popcorn.”
“I’ll admit, I’d prefer something else over food.” She stroked him through his jeans. If he didn’t hurry up, the sex would be over before they even started watching the video. He pressed a button on the remote and an image of them flashed on the huge screen as they entered the tent for their massage.
Wylee leaned forward, grabbed their glasses, and offered him one. “Cheers, honey,” she said, clinking her glass to his.
“To us, and to my gorgeous wife-to-be and our amazing family.” They took some long sips and he kissed her. “But how about we watch the movie?” He set his glass on the coffee table, then he took hers and set it down with his.
On the TV screen, Wylee was saying hello to Gideon, and the sound of her own voice brought her sitting upright and removing her hand from Gabe’s crotch. “Are you serious? They recorded our massages?”
He dragged her onto his lap so she faced forward, and forced her legs apart until she straddled him.
His hands roamed beneath her short nightie and found the fleshy mounds of her tits. He squeezed their plumpness and rolled the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. “Damn right. I paid for it. We have my proposal recorded. And me fucking this really hot chick from behind on the massage table.” He grazed his palm down her flat belly and slipped two fingers inside her.
She moaned and thrust her hips forward, forcing his fingers deeper.
So tight. So wet.
He inhaled against her neck, savoring the fragrance of her sexy perfume mixed with the aroma of her pussy. “Mmm, you smell great, babe.” He lifted his finger and sucked on it. Her sweet cream burst on his tongue. “Tasty, too.”
“Put it back in,” she begged. She leaned her head on his shoulder and let her weight blanket his erection. “Please. Don’t stop.”
He forwarded through the part where she ate the barracuda and stopped when she ripped off her dress in front of Gideon.
Damn. Gabe’s mouth watered.
“Look at you. And look at the look on Gideon’s face.” He chuckled and flicked his fingertip over her hard little clit. “And Megyn. I think she liked it even more than he did.”
She rubbed her ass over him. “Get inside me, Gabe. Please. I didn’t realize how horny I was until now.”
He reached between their bodies and fumbled until his dick sprang free. “I gotta agree with you, there.” His hands explored every curve and nook of her body, except the thin panties were in his way. He pulled and ripped them off her.
She gasped, but then it didn’t seem to faze her. She moaned, groaned. It sounded in tune with their moany groans during their massage. He dove his fingers in the hair at the back of her head and turned her face toward him so he could kiss that plump mouth. She tasted of sweet merlot and the cherry cheesecake they’d fed each other after dinner. Their tongues dueled. The movements of her hips sped up, the pressure of her ass cheeks on his cock increased.
He had to get inside her before he came from her rubbing against him. They broke the kiss, panting for air, and watched the part where he climbed onto the table with her.
“Oh, my God, we look so sexy,” she said, breathless.
Gabe had never guessed a “porno” of the two of them having sex would be the ultimate flick to get him off, but here they were. He lifted her, aligned her pussy with the tip of his cock, and slowly plunged her down on his length.
It happened at the very same moment he’d buried himself inside her in the tent on Barracuda Island. They screamed in unison with the TV, as if there were four people in the room instead of the two of them having an intimate night of wine and a movie after. He slammed his head into the couch and let her ride him while he watched himself take her from behind on the screen.
That was when he noticed their masseuses on the edge of the screen. His eyes widened. “Look on the right, there. It’s Gideon and Megyn. She’s…”
Wylee’s pussy got wetter. She sucked in a breath and finished his comment. “She’s giving him a blowjob. They’re…they’re watching us have sex.”
“Is it just me, or is that hot?”
Gideon watched them during their tent excursion, his expression strained, his muscles in his upper body flexing.
Megyn knelt in front of him and took Gideon’s long cock into her throat. She bobbed, licked, and slurped while she rubbed herself between her legs
.
“It’s hotter than hot. It’s making me hornier.” Wylee stiffened. Her muscles tightened around him. “Gabe, I’m going to come. I’m going to—” She let her head fall back and twitched around him. Her fingers dug into his thighs.
Gabe’s balls ached. He hissed and kept his gaze on the TV screen. Then he let loose with Wylee spasming around his girth, the sights and sounds of the two of them getting off on the massage table, and Gideon and Megyn moaning their own releases.
Wylee collapsed on him and pressed her back to his chest. They were breathing hard, both now staring at the intricate treyed ceiling of their new house.
He chuckled to himself. Of all things, a doctor and his nurse fiancée, both who typically save lives, now living in a funeral home.
They sat there, waiting for their breathing to slow. Gabe kept his perusal on the TV. His eyes narrowed when, at the end, right after they’d walked out of the tent in the video, the screen crackled and cut to a time prior to their massage. It was as if their timeslot had been recorded over an earlier recording. Gideon and Megyn finished setting up the tent and the food bar, and walked out.
Then the side of the tent lifted and a small face peeped underneath.
“Wylee… Look, it’s the boy we saw in the pool.”
She gasped, climbed from Gabe’s lap, and stood, straightening her short, silky nightie around her narrow hips. “Was this after we were there? Did the kid see us having sex?”
“No. This appears to be before we arrived at the tent. Our session got recorded over the top of this one.” Gabe scooted to the edge of the sofa. He watched in horror on the TV as the boy scrambled under the tent’s side, scanned the space, no doubt hoping he wouldn’t get caught, and crept to the bar. He popped a slice of a peach in his little mouth, then he grabbed a kabob and gnawed on the meat.
“How horrible!” Wylee screamed. “That poor little thing. He ate some of the barracuda. That must’ve been right before we saw him in the pool. And that’s how he got infected, why we later saw him back here in Twilight Cove…turned into one of them.”
