He was back before dark, just like he promised. Once he helped me inside the sleek machine, I told him if he planned to stick around and help, we might need to go to his place. “Dillon knows where I live.”
“I’m not scared. What do you want to do?”
“I want to go home. But not tonight. You can meet Arlo tomorrow.”
“Who?”
“Prime truck. He’s staying at my neighbor’s house.” I’d let my irritation with Arlo come through in my voice.
“You don’t sound very happy about that.”
“Well,” I started, wanting to be honest. I did need someone in my corner. “I’ve stock piled supplies there. That was before he showed up. He said, his friends are coming soon, too.”
“You should have told him to move on.”
“I am just a woman living alone, you know. I can’t make anyone do anything.”
“Bullshit. Just ask me. I’ll make sure they don’t take your things.”
“You do have water at your place, right?”
“Yes, don’t worry. I got you.”
After he carried me inside, Troy switched on a battery powered lantern. His place did have water, gallons and gallons of it stocked up all over the living room. He explained, he’d been getting it and running it through Brita, Pur and Zero Water Pitchers, any he could find and storing it in anything he could. Taking me up the stairs to a big bathroom, he sat me on the side of a huge jacuzzi tub. He lit some candles and disappeared with the lantern to retrieve the water. Waiting in the low flickering light, I longed for a bath. I knew I’d have to lose my disgusting clothes. Someone would get to see my new body, after all. Trying not to be nervous about Troy seeing me naked, I tried to sit up straight and failed. I slumped and almost fell into the tub. Yipping, I caught myself on my elbow.
“I can’t leave you alone,” Troy commented. He filled the tub a gallon at a time until it was few inches deep.
“I think we should try to get as much off before I get in the tub.” I was talking about the zombie filth on me. I didn’t want to sit in a stew of it.
“Okay. You’re going to have to take off these clothes.”
If it were just my ankle, I’d stand on one foot and do it myself. As it was, I was sore all over. I wasn’t entirely sure nothing else was broken. My knee ached, and I’d probably bruised a rib or two, falling. I held my arms over my head. “Help me, please,” I laughed out.
Troy laughed too. “That’s what I like to hear.” Getting on his knees, he carefully helped me out of my tank top. His large hands fell to my waist band and face leaned in close to mine. “A little help,” he suggested, and I got his drift. I put my arms around him to rise, and he dragged down my leggings. He threw the nasty clothes into a garbage bag. I didn’t think he would go any further, half expected to bathe in my underwear, but I was wrong. “These are going too,” he said, as a matter of fact, returning face to face with me. He snatched the sides of my drawers. Quivering, I set my arms around his neck again and let him take my panties clear away. My bare butt returned to the cold porcelain, making his skin feel even warmer against mine. Without changing position, his breath tickled my ear as he went after my bra’s clasp, undoing it. Unmoving, he slipped the bra away and ran his hands down my clean, bare back. “You’re trembling,” he remarked, as he rubbed my back and then my arms, drawing himself away. “Are you okay? The water will be cold.”
“I’m okay,” I breathed out, not cold at all. Too hot more like it. I wondered for a moment if I had a fever. Well, I had a fever, but it wasn’t for more cow bell. My fever was for Troy.
“I think you can probably save these if you want them.” He spoke of my undies that he held while I sat completely nude before him. He didn’t divert his gaze. He was drinking me all in. Covered in goo, I tried to forget I was exposed, and cool down, but it was hard. Speaking of hard, my eyes fell to Troy’s shorts. Even in the low light, I could see the bulge. Noticing me staring, Troy’s eyes dripped heavy with desire. He sighed. “You’re going to have to get in.”
He dipped down to take off the bandage on my ankle. Then leaned in again, and I hugged him, wrapping my arms around him as far as they would go. I pressed my breasts into him, wishing he’d lost his shirt. He settled me down in the cold bath like I was nothing. Right off he poured another gallon over my head, while I ran my fingers through my hair. The resulting red water dampened my libido. With his help, I shampooed and washed the blood and guts away. He seemed just as determined to get me clean, focusing on the task. We drained the tub, rinsed away the sludge and he filled it again. Although it wasn’t much water, it was finally clean. Free of zombie as well, I relaxed in it, naked as a jay bird.
Troy sat on the edge of tub regarding me, his lust filled eyes still intense. “You want a drink?” He asked, like he needed one.
“Sure.”
“Wine or Tequila?
“Um… Tequila makes me crazy.”
“So, wine.”
On second thought, getting hammered sounded nice. “Tequila.”
“Mind if I join you.”
Made for two at least, the tub was huge. There was room, but I wasn’t sure if I should. Letting him into the tub with me naked was a clear indication I was willing to go all the way. I was seriously attracted to him, but I didn’t know if I was able, physically, after the day I had.
When I didn’t answer, he added, “For a drink… Did you think I was talking about getting in the tub?”
“For a minute.”
“That’s a good idea, too.”
“I’m not sure…”
“So, you’re thinking about it?”
“Ah…” I blushed. “Maybe.”
Troy came back with a bottle and one shot glass.
“Aren’t you having any?”
He realized why I was asking. “Oh, I’ll drink from the bottle.”
“Maybe I should get out of the tub. I’m going to prune up.”
Troy produced a towel and laid it against him so he could both help me up and wrap me into it. He bent down and palmed my waist. I held onto his neck yet again as to not put any pressure on my leg as he lifted me from the tub. I didn’t need to step out once he raised up. He’d pulled me clear out. Weakly patting me with the ends of the towel, he covered my backside. It’d worked sort of only with Troy getting soaked by my dipping hair in the process. He maneuvered me into a honeymoon pose with ease and carried me down a short dark hall. The lantern from earlier already sat on the nightstand, illuminating the huge bed. He placed me down with great care right in the middle of it.
“Was this your room?” I asked.
“When I came home to visit. This isn’t the house I lived in growing up. I bought this place for my parents a few years ago. Don’t worry, they have a big master bedroom, too, only downstairs. My mom can’t climb stairs anymore.”
“Sweet of you to buy them a place.”
“I’d rather they’d moved to Florida, but hey, they may have survived this shit because they refused to… I don’t want to think about it.” He shook his head. “Thankfully, you’ll be okay. I mean… you have survived the virus before, right?”
I touched my bandaged neck. “Yeah, this isn’t my first time…” I paused, thinking of the double entendre as I sat naked in his bed. “Thanks for saving me though. Another minute, and I’d be dead. And thanks for the bath. And…”
He put a finger to my lips. “My pleasure.”
“You’re soaked.”
At my words, he stood up and tore his shirt over his head, flooring me. Troy’s fucking honest to God ten pack abs were marvelous.
Why hadn’t I ever watched basketball? Oh, the men weren’t topless.
He kept on his shorts and poured me a shot of Tequila. We toasted, my shot against the bottle and I threw one back. With no salt or lime, it burned worse than ever. Knowing it would relieve some pain and quiet my nerves, I asked for another. He took a swig from the bottle to match me. Stiff, I rolled my neck around, cracking it
. Within minutes, I felt less stiff. I laid back on the bed, letting alcohol sooth me. I’d needed it after the zombie attack. Troy laid beside me, propped up on his elbow. We talked for an hour. I rolled over to face him after a while, while we shared our best zombie stories. Laughing too much, we tried to one up each other with our tales. He was clearly the winner, seeing much more undead action than I ever had.
He got up and took a drink of tequila. He poured me yet another shot and resumed his position facing me. “Don’t drink too many.”
Up on an elbow, I sipped it. “Why? I can hold my own.”
“I don’t want you to be too drunk…”
I downed the whole shot. “Why, what do you have planned for me?”
“To be honest, I wanted to try to be a gentleman and not take advantage of you lying in my bed in nothing but a towel, but I think you’re a bad girl who wants me to fuck her.”
His words flowed through me ticking all the right boxes. “How do you know?”
“If you didn’t, you’d be begging for a t-shirt or something. You wouldn’t be taking shots with me, in bed.”
“Four shots of tequila is my limit,” I said. “I know my limit. And just because I’m drinking with you… it doesn’t mean I want to fuck you. I don’t even know if I can. I’m too sore.”
“But you have thought about it.”
I didn’t answer, however, with the alcohol loosening me up, my features gave it away. I gushed like a schoolgirl.
“I can see it in your eyes.”
“Really?” Half drunk, I thought this was hilarious. “I can tell you want to fuck me, and I don’t have to see it in your eyes. I saw it in your pants.”
Troy took that opportunity to kiss me, hard and deep, his hands opening the towel. Cold air hit my body and my nipples hardened. He broke our kiss, glanced down at them and said, “Your nipples are little rocks. So there. You want to fuck me.”
I slapped at his chest. “That does not mean a girl wants it. I’m cold is all.”
“What’s it?”
“To be fucked.”
His huge hand caressed my belly then settled on my hip. “I like it when you say that word.”
Watching his face, I reached down, blindly searching for his cock. My hand trailing down his muscular torso found it, standing at attention way above his navel. I ran my palm down the length of it. “Geezus,” I said, in appreciation.
He cocked an eyebrow.
I cupped his balls. “Fuck,” I said, intentionally sounding sultry.
His focus narrowed, his lips puckered. Troy shifted to come at me. I laid on my back, letting the towel fall away completely. He moved down my body, throwing my thighs apart in one swift motion. He greeted Miss Mary with a kiss, soft and long then feral. Snatching his hair, I urged him hard against me. His beard scraped against me as his tongue beat in and out of my wetness with force.
A long finger replaced his tongue. His hot breath now on my thigh. “What do you want, Sissy?”
“Please, Troy… I want you to, but I don’t know if I can even move.”
“You won’t have to.” One finger became two.
“Maybe I do want to, but it’s complicated. I’m not looking for a boyfriend right now.”
“So, you just want sex?” Two fingers went to three, clearly making way for his amble cock.
“I’m not saying that. I just don’t want to complicate things.”
Troy’s body covered me, warm and hard, without putting any weight on me. Somehow, he’d lost his pants, and I was fine with that. “I’m not asking you to move in with me.”
“I know. It’s just… If we do this, we need to keep it between us.”
He positioned the head of his cock between my folds, rubbing it against my clit. “Is this about that Dillon character?”
“The Stayers would kill you,” I panted out, enjoying his gyration.
“I’m not scared of them, but I get it. You’re scared if we fuck, I’ll go caveman and try to control you.” Troy grabbed my good knee, steering it up and out, widening his way.
“Maybe,” I shifted my hips helping him line up.
“That’s not me. I like you. You like me. We could wait, but we’re going to fuck sometime. It’s inevitable.”
“Are you sure?” I laughed a bit, but a moan overtook it as he lined his cock up perfectly.
His dick revved its engine at my starting line. It was time. It was inevitable, like he’d said. Our eyes met. He nodded an answer to my question I’d forgotten. “Now, beg me, baby?”
“Fuck me.”
“Is that all?”
“Please,” I begged.
Troy obliged, filling me up until I overflowed with dick. Touching me in places I didn’t know existed, his dick went so deep I cried out in a combination of pleasure and pain. Yet, when he left the same places, I longed for him to return. Weak and scrabbling at his shoulders, I couldn’t even hold on as he had his way with me. And he was making me so much weaker, shattering me with his cock. Stabbing me, he was killing me with dick. Troy’s face fell to the good side of my neck, licking it. As much as he was murdering my pussy, he was being careful not to injury the rest of me. I was helpless and completely under his spell. Soon, I was begging him to go deeper and harder, like I was addicted to the rush. Every penetration felt like a shot of liquor, warming me, burning and making me lose control.
I lost all control, getting off, but he wasn’t finished. I’d cried out like a loon. Troy smiled wickedly, pleased with himself. He held my arms stretched above my head, as he slowed down to let me rest up. But it became clear he planned to make me cum again without even pulling out. His lips hovered over mine, just as I thought I couldn’t take anymore.
“This time, you don’t cum until I say so.”
Sweet kisses deepened to crazy ones as his strokes became more deliberate, desperate even. He worked me up again. Troy had killed me but wouldn’t let me die. We were insane for each other. Every move, every moan, amplified our descent into madness. The pleasure I’d felt before had doubled, even tripled before he said I could cum. I let go, just as he pulled out, letting hot liquid spill on my belly.
Troy brought me breakfast in bed. Oranges which he’d mentioned before and to my delight, boiled eggs. He’d caught a chicken in Florida and brought it all this way. He kept Sheena in his basement. It was a clever way to keep her away from wildlife or zombies catching her day or night.
“Why did you name her Sheena,” I asked.
“You remember the song, Funky Cold Medina?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought Sheena was actually a rooster for the longest time, until she finally laid an egg. See, I thought it was a hen but then when it didn’t lay, I thought maybe I was wrong. So, I’d sing to her, Sheena was a man.”
Imagining him singing to a chicken, I laughed too hard until it hurt. I held my ribs, doubled over.
“Hey. It’s lonely out there.”
It reminded me I never got the eggs from Dillon. I didn’t want to think about him in bed with Troy. We’d had an amazing night. I thought about what day it was, Wednesday. Dillon would be back Monday if not sooner. I feared with three people, three men running around Creepy, if he got wind of it, he might show up sooner. And I didn’t know what I would do to keep him from killing Arlo, Troy and Rowan.
Troy found me some clothes. Luckily, his mother had been close enough to my size. He’d promised to help me keep the Diner going so our first stop was to fill the generator. Next, I had him take me to the drug store. My knee felt much better this morning, but my ribs were seriously bruised and the bite on my neck would take a long time to heal. I needed some really good prescription, antibiotic cream for my neck, more gauze and an orthopedic boot for my ankle. Able to put a bit more weight on it, I’d decided it was only sprained. Luck would have it we found both, the cream and a boot in my size. With it, I could walk without help from Troy. We collected whatever else we could find in the drug store. Even though I had been there once
before, I hadn’t thought I’d need a boot. I’d already taken crutches down to the basement of Jules Estate. Thanks to Troy, we picked up items I hadn’t been sure I needed before. He seemed to know much more about injuries than I did. He’d said he’d been hurt a lot playing ball.
“I can’t believe there’s anything left.” Troy spoke of the fact there was still stuff on the shelves.
“I can’t get it all.”
He figured it’d all been gone before the evacuation.
The folks in Creepy hadn’t been like that, I told him.
“The Stayers haven’t raided?”
“Why would they? They have Alexandria. Dillon, as bad as he can be, keeps the crazies in line. He says I can have this town...”
“If what? You said he was blackmailing you.”
“I give him a little bit each week,” I said. That was true if I didn’t say what the meaning of the word “bit” was. Suddenly, I felt like Bill Clinton. Troy eyed me suspiciously but didn’t say more. I hobbled out of the store with my arms full.
Helped by the boot, I made us lunch at Mrs. Deans. I told Troy all about her. He told me he remembered the Diner. We reminisced about the town, preapocalypse over bunless hamburgers, fries and some of that beer I’d taken from his place. Today felt worlds away from yesterday. The horror of the zombie attack fading and being able to walk, I wasn’t as receptive to Troy wanting to take care of me. I was getting around just fine, but he insisted he clean up the mess. He planned to stick around and help me.
Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection Page 168