by Emma Castle
Then she was transported to a research hospital and escorted to a hospital room. A nervous-looking nurse left her a pair of scrubs on the bed before dashing out the door. A man in a hazmat suit drew a blood sample, hair sample, and saliva sample before leaving her alone with a tray of food and a few bottles of water. She ate everything and drank every bottle, to the point where her stomach felt like it would burst. Then she collapsed back on the bed and sank into a sleep so deep that not even the nightmares could chase her.
“You are the lone O’Hare survivor?” Lincoln asked, holding his breath. He had known about that incident. Adam had briefed him about it while everyone was still at the White House.
“You heard about me?” Caroline’s cheeks reddened, and it reminded him how long it had been since he’d kissed her. Too fucking long. But he’d let his pride override his lust these last three weeks. He’d been unable to protect her. He’d failed at the very mission that had kept him going. And he’d gotten shot by a bunch of fucking amateurs. There was nothing worse to a man’s ego than being unable to look after himself. Caroline had handled everything, and that had filled him with a bone-deep shame. His arm was getting stronger, hand e’d soon be able to protect her again and prove that he was worthy of her.
“I’d only heard there had been a confirmed survivor. The CDC worker there reported back to the vice president, Adam. She called you ‘the hope for all mankind.’”
“The hope for all mankind?” She blushed again. “I’m not the only survivor. You survived too.”
He shrugged. He’d been lucky, that’s all. He could have died a thousand times over the years, fighting for his country secretly, behind the scenes. This was just another brush with death. Lincoln had never wanted to claim recognition for any of that. He only wanted to find peace within himself and banish the demons of his past.
“What happened after the quarantine? I remember hearing that you were escorted to the research facility for testing.”
“That was the plan,” she said with a sigh. “I arrived at a private research hospital just outside Chicago. But I was only there a few weeks before Hydra-1 wiped out the staff. I was abandoned. I just woke up one morning in my room and could hear machines and alarms beeping. When I went outside to see what happened, I found that most of the staff had left and the rest were dying. Someone delivering supplies to the hospital was infected and spread the disease. It happened so fast.”
“I know.” He thought of those final days in the bunker, the way the disease had spread until only he and Adam were left.
Flashes of being back in that hallway, of seeing the mummified bodies of his friends, his team. Then later, hearing Adam weakly call his name. The sweat on his fingers as he raised the gun to his best friend’s head. He would never vanquish that demon—it would linger like a stain upon his soul forever.
“It’ll be nightfall soon. We should stop.” Caroline’s voice broke through the rush of dark thoughts clouding his mind.
“Look for a motel off the highway,” he said, glad to have something to focus on other than the past.
They watched for signs, and when he spotted a decent-looking Holiday Inn outside of Kansas City, she took it. They parked in the lot next to the other cars, making sure their vehicle didn’t stand out. Then they unloaded their bags.
“We can come back for the chickens,” Lincoln said.
They took only their backpacks first, and he entered ahead of her, pistol out but not raised. The hotel was dark, the chairs in the lobby overturned, and the minibar behind the desk had been emptied. Ice cream had melted into hardened puddles on the floor. Basic medicine, razors, and shampoo bottles were still there. He touched his beard, considering shaving it. What would Caroline like? Beard? No beard?
“Let’s go to the second floor,” he said. He would come back for those supplies later.
“Why?” she asked in a hushed whisper.
“Tactical advantage,” he explained. “We can still leave quickly if there’s a fire, but we aren’t as vulnerable as we would be on the first floor. Most scavengers look for a quick and easy hit. Break into the ground floor, check those rooms, and move on.”
“Oh, got it.” Caroline adjusted her backpack and followed him as he led them to the staircase used by employees.
He found an empty room and checked the door adjoining to a neighboring room was locked on their side. Then he went back to their door and checked the sliding bolt lock.
He noticed her watching and cocked a brow. “What?”
She grinned. “Nothing.” She shrugged casually, which would have pissed him off it had been anyone else. But with her it was actually kind of cute, not annoying like he thought it would be. He didn’t press her on what she was thinking. He just liked knowing she was acting, well… normal. Normal, considering. Like a normal woman would when she teased a man.
“So this is our place tonight, huh?” The way she said “our place” made him grin back at her.
“Yeah.” He nodded at the two twin beds. He had hoped for a king, but he didn’t want to kick down every door in the place looking for one.
Caroline collapsed onto one bed and dropped her bag at her feet. “God, I wish we could watch TV right now.” She flopped back onto the bed, presenting herself as an all-too-tempting offering.
“There are a lot of things I wish I could do now,” he muttered, cursing his sore but mostly healed arm. “What did you like to watch?”
“Sitcoms.” She sighed, gazing longingly the dark TV. “I know they were super cheesy, but I loved them.”
“Why?” His curiosity was piqued. He’d always like documentaries.
“I like to laugh. And no matter how bad a day you had, watching those shows would make you laugh. I haven’t really laughed since…” Her gaze grew just a little bit distant, and the pain in her eyes made his teeth clench.
“What was your favorite show?” Lincoln eased down on the bed beside her, wanting to touch her but hesitating. He’d spent the last few weeks pushing her away because he’d felt weak and ashamed. Now he didn’t know how to get back to where he’d been with her. So he did what he and his men did on their downtime: shared stories, memories, talked about favorite foods and favorite movies. It worked well as a reprieve from the fear and anxiety around them.
“There was this one, about an office with all these employees. This one character was super obnoxious, so this other character pulled pranks on him.” Caroline was smiling now, and the brightness of it would have knocked him over if he hadn’t already been sitting down.
“What kind of pranks?”
Caroline spent the next hour reenacting about a dozen episodes and somehow managing to spoil all the funny parts until they were both laughing. He couldn’t help it. She had a sexy, happy laugh. A laugh a man like him never got tired of hearing.
“I guess what I loved most was how the people were normal, like me. They faced normal problems, but the show made it amusing and true. Like the office romances. It’s hard not to fall for someone you work with, someone you’re close to on a daily basis.” Her face reddened and she looked away, and he had a feeling she was thinking about them and how closely intertwined their lives had become since they’d met.
People bonded in times of danger. People became lovers, soldiers became bands of brothers, strangers became parents to orphaned children. It was human nature to take care of each other. But contagious diseases were different. They drove people apart. They were terrifying because they were invisible and could be anywhere, on anyone. He could still hear Adam on the radio in the bunker, giving the last few messages of hope to those still listening.
“We must never forget who we are. We must care for each other. We must put others before ourselves. The nations of the world can survive this if we stay true to the only cause that matters now—the survival of the human race. Together.”
Lincoln wasn’t sure he believed any of that, but he’d believed in Adam and would have followed him to the ends of the earth. In a way,
he had. Now he would follow Caroline. He saw that same hope in her and that belief in humanity in her eyes. It stirred something deep within him, something he had thought long dead.
“Rest and let me get the chickens. I’ll put them in the room across the hall.”
She stretched and yawned. “You sure?”
Fuck, she was adorable. “Yeah, get some sleep.”
She scooted back on the bed and lay down on her side, falling fast asleep. He envied her that. He had a soldier’s ability to sleep just about anywhere and anytime, but he never slept deeply the way she did. He woke with every creak and groan of the places where he slept.
Lincoln returned to the car and carried the pet carriers with the chickens upstairs, placing them in a room across the hall, which was also empty. He let them out of their carriers and closed the door to keep them inside. He would check for eggs tomorrow. Then he entered the room he shared with Caroline.
She was still asleep. He pulled back the covers of the other bed, and then removed her shoes and socks and tucked her in. He checked the bathroom; it had running water. Despite his fatigue, he wanted to collect supplies while he could. The front desk’s cash drawer had been forced open by a crowbar and emptied. Lincoln slipped behind the desk and reached the shelves of bottles of Tylenol, ibuprofen, and other basic drugs. He grabbed a stack of razors and a couple boxes of condoms and shaving cream. Yeah, he knew he was being presumptuous for getting more condoms, but he never wanted to have an “Oh shit, where’s the condoms?” moment if something happened between them. The last thing he needed was worrying about bringing a kid into this fucked-up world.
He searched the kitchen and found a large store of powdered eggs, which had a shelf life of five to ten years, and an endless supply of those tiny single-serving cereal boxes. Those were gold. He would have to pack every one of them into the car. It would be a tight fit, but they could eat Froot Loops like kings.
By the time he got back to the room, it was dark. He settled in the bed opposite Caroline. He was afraid if he tried to sleep next to her tonight, he might do something he’d regret. She was so goddamn irresistible, and she had no clue. This wasn’t just about them being some of the last people on earth—this was about her, who she was, how she reminded him about what was still good in the world. She was like a bottle of hundred-year-old whiskey to an alcoholic trying to make it one day sober.
He swept his small Maglite over their room before he turned it off, wanting to make sure all was well before he let his guard down. Who knew what monsters lurked in the shadows outside, waiting?
10
Here life has death for neighbor,
And far from eye or ear
Wan waves and wet winds labor,
Weak ships and spirits steer;
They drive adrift, and whither
They wot not who make thither;
But no such winds blow hither,
And no such things grow here.
—“The Garden of Proserpine”
by Algernon Charles Swinburne
* * *
The chill woke Caroline with cold, creeping tendrils, stealing beneath the thin hotel blankets. Bleary-eyed, she reached for the comforting warmth of Lincoln’s body. But he wasn’t there. She jolted awake, crying out in fear.
“Lincoln! Lincoln!” Terror shot through her like a shotgun blast. Her lungs seized, her vision blacked out, and she bent double over the side of the bed, dry-heaving.
“Caroline.” Lincoln’s deep, rumbling purr of a whisper was there beside her, his arms strong and warm as they wound around her, pinning her to the bed, like the roots of an ancient tree. He hadn’t abandoned her in the dark. She was safe. She wasn’t alone. Great gasping, gulping sobs escaped her with such force, she wondered if her lungs might bleed from the stress.
“Shhh…” His beard rubbed her forehead, and she buried her face against him, needing to be assured by all five of her senses that this wasn’t a dream. She couldn’t smell things in her dreams.
“I thought you left me…I…”
“Never.” He said the word softly, yet it seemed to vibrate through her, echoing deeper than anything else in her life ever had. It seemed to be more than a declaration of love. It was a vow, an unbreakable one. But how could he make such a vow to her? They were strangers, thrown together by circumstances and tragedy.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her lips brushing his neck.
His arms tightened around her. She realized they were lying down on her bed, his body partially covering hers. He gently cocooned her beneath him, just the way she liked. She couldn’t miss his hardened arousal that dug into her hip, but it didn’t frighten her. She wanted him—she needed him in the most primal way. The fear of losing him had made one thing clear to her. She didn’t want to go another moment without knowing the intimate touch of another, and there was only one man she wanted.
The first day they’d met he’d said it would come to this; animal lust and the desire for physical comfort. Damn him, he had been right. She would hate him and herself tomorrow. But right now she needed him.
“Please, Lincoln.” She kissed his throat and wriggled beneath him, trying to entice him to slide between her legs.
“No, not tonight,” he said, before he stole a slow, drugging kiss that made her body ache and her toes curl.
“Yes. I’ve been wanting you for weeks,” she admitted, arching her hips and curling one leg around his ass. “And you’ve been avoiding me.” God, right now she loved his ass, tight and firm…it gave a girl the best fantasies about digging her nails into it while he fucked her senseless. Not that she’d ever experienced that. Her list of ex-boyfriends was short. She’d cared about each of them, but none of them had really been intense like Lincoln.
He was so physically present, so strong and at home in his own skin. That natural confidence was hotter than hell. When he had kissed her that first time, she’d felt almost as confident as him, because she had tasted that primal hunger on his lips and knew it was for her. He just wanted her the way she was in that moment. Naked, gasping his name, and nearly blacking out with pleasure. She’d tasted all of that on his lips and seen it in his eyes. A girl could get drunk on something that like.
“Please…I’ll beg,” she groaned and rocked herself against him. “You want that?”
“Caroline, I’m not a gentleman. I’m…I’m rough. I can’t always hold back once I get started. I will stop if you ask, but I don’t make love—I fuck. Hard.”
All she could do was moan at how his low, rough words made her feel. She was in heaven. Rough was what she needed. Something to distract her from her fears for the future.
“Hard is good,” she assured him.
He kissed her then, devouring any resistance she might have put up had she wanted to. Their mouths stung each other with sharp need. He bit her bottom lip, then licked away the sting, each kiss more blistering than the last. She was greedy for more, wanting to feel his body and his mouth and hands all over her. His tongue invaded her mouth, dueling with hers before he moved down to her neck, nipping and sucking on her skin in between hot kisses. Her body was on fire, wetness pooling between her thighs. The burden of her clothes was suddenly too much.
She struggled with her sweater. He moved quickly, sensing her goal, and with one easy move tugged her sweater off. Then he slid down her body and removed her jeans just as easily. She was down to her panties and bra when he pounced on her. More kisses followed, hard ones that branded her as his. She scraped her teeth over his shoulder and clutched at him in wild desperation.
“How do you want it?” he growled as he reached for his pants. “Hands and knees or on your back?”
“Stop wasting time and”
He didn’t let her finish. He rolled her onto her stomach, then lifted her onto her knees. He jerked her panties down to her knees and put a hand on her back, pushing her so she bent forward and rested on her forearms. Then his shaft was nudging her entrance. She parted her thighs wider, panting
as he rubbed her folds, coating himself in her wetness.
“Yes,” she gasped, wanting now more than ever to feel him inside her.
He rewarded her by filling her completely, his hips slamming against her ass as he fully seated himself, and she cried out at the shock. She felt speared all the way through to her heart. There was nothing else in her head now, no other thoughts. There was only this, only him with her in the dark. She rotated her hips in slow circles, pushing back against him, his rough chuckle sending shivers of sensual delight through her.
Lincoln grasped her hair, pulling it back so she arched her body, thrusting her breasts forward. There was something erotic about still wearing a bra while being fucked, knowing Lincoln was so desperate to take her that he didn’t even stop to remove every last scrap of clothing. He pulled himself almost all the way out and then plunged back in, filling her again. They were one in a way she’d never been with any lover before. She felt attuned to him, and he to her.
Pull, thrust, gasp, moan… They created a symphony of intense sounds accompanied by the tap-tap-tap of the headboard against the wall. They moved together as he relentlessly rammed into her over and over. She cried out over and over with animalistic fierceness as she gave in to her most primal urges. He kept thrusting into her, clasping her hips as he pushed her to her limits. His hold would leave bruises tomorrow, ones she’d wear proudly because he wasn’t hurting her—he was owning her, and she was owning him right back.
They didn’t need sweet words or sympathy right now. They needed this. Dark, primal pleasures, each reminding the other that they were strong and alive. She matched him stroke for stroke, push for push, and when he reached around her and found her clit, rubbing it with his fingers, she was lost.
The orgasm hit her full force, shattering her senses. She surrendered to it, collapsing down on the bed. Lincoln kept her ass in the air as he fucked her hard a moment longer, finding his release within her, and she loved that. His body tensed, and she felt the heat spread deep inside her. A long moment later she lay panting beneath him, and she realized that neither of them had thought to use a condom. He had a whole pouch full, and he hadn’t even used one.
