Starting Point (Doomsday Preppers)

by Elle Aycart

  He chuckled, took her hand, and walked to the porch. “Only a state-of-the-art alarm system.” And a basement with a back door and a well-disguised stash of weapons. But she hadn’t asked about those.

  “Wow,” she said as he opened the door for her. “This is beautiful. Polished wood everywhere. That plasma TV is the size of a stadium!”

  He made a dismissive motion. “It’s an upscale version of yours. I live here all year round.” And after spending many precarious years on the streets and in the military, he liked a few amenities. “Listen, we have a good three hours of daylight left.” He went to a closet and took out a rifle case and some ammunition. “You said you don’t know how to shoot. I thought you might be interested in learning. Bucket list?”

  “Bucket list!” she hollered, dancing some sort of weird victory dance. Fucking adorable.

  Then she leaped on him, circling his waist with her legs and wrapping her arms around his neck. By the looks of it, she’d totally forgotten about her chest being against his, which pleased him to no end. While he hugged her, she kissed him all over his face. “Lead the way, soldier. I’ll be a marksman in no time.”

  “Aren’t we being a bit too optimistic?” He walked outside with her still attached to him.

  She ignored that. “What are we shooting at? Cans? Paper targets? I’m not going to kill anything, mind you.”

  Like a newbie could hit a moving target. “No killing.” He put her down. “Do you see that?” He pointed at a DIY spinner target nailed to a tree. “Let’s try to hit it. It’s twenty yards away.”

  Alec showed her how to load a .22 rifle, how to wear eye and ear protection, how to hold the gun without hurting her shoulder, how to aim, and how to fire. For the first few rounds, he supported her from behind, steadying the rifle and all but aiming for her. Those times she hit the mark. Well, he did. Then he left her to fly solo, overseeing from several feet away. The rifle was heavy for her, and the longer she held it, the more her arms shook. Still she didn’t give up. Every time she missed the target, she cursed, but reloaded the rifle and went at it again. And didn’t she look sexy handling a weapon?

  A claxon distracted him from his lecherous thoughts. It came from Sean’s car. Sean and Ty walked around the side of the cabin. “I heard you have a delivery for me,” Sean said. “Hi, Megan.”

  “Yep. Wait a sec.” Alec said, heading inside.

  “I’m trying to hit the mark, but no luck so far,” he heard her mutter, sounding a bit disheartened.

  Alec came back with the leftovers and handed the container to Sean.

  Then Megan shot and hit the mark.

  “Yes!” she shouted, turning to them, the barrel of the rifle still leveled.

  “Get down!” Alec shouted.

  The three men hit the ground, covering their heads. It took a couple of seconds for Megan to figure out what was going on. “Sorry, sorry,” she apologized hastily, pointing the rifle down.

  They got up, brushing snow from their clothes. Megan grimaced.

  “Fantastic shot. I’m very proud of you, boss. Now, if you can manage not to kill the audience in the process, it’ll be a home run.” Alec kissed her and took the weapon. “Never point at anything you’re not intending to shoot.”

  “I’m very sorry, guys,” she said to Sean and Ty. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “Don’t sweat it,” Ty replied. “We’ve been in plenty more danger during drills. Some of the older preppers around here are almost legally blind and still carrying.”

  Ty had a point. Taking their weapons away was impossible, so Alec had been teaming up with Shayna and others to replace their ammunition with blanks. It didn’t solve the problem, but it did reduce the body count.

  “What is it about insects?” Megan asked Sean. “Do you like them?”

  “Not really, but they freak the fuck out of my clients in hunting trips. They eat one and think it tastes great—until I tell them what it is. Then they turn green. It makes a great story for them to take home to their friends. And on fishing trips, I’m invincible when it comes to bait.”

  “Figures,” she murmured. After Sean and Ty left, she went back to shooting.

  They kept at it until twilight came in. By then she had hit the target several times and was ecstatic. He’d had to react fast a couple of times, grabbing the barrel and pointing it elsewhere, but all in all, it had been pretty successful.

  “Pizza for supper?” he asked as they went inside.

  “You trying to fatten me up?”

  Damn right. And carbs were the way to go.

  Leaving their shoes and winter gear in the entryway, they headed for the kitchen. Megan jumped onto the counter while he took a pizza from the freezer, added grated cheese, and put it in the oven. “Cheese pizza with extra cheese.”

  She smiled archly. “You know, I’ve developed my taste buds over the past eighteen years.”

  “I remember, boss. Spicy chicken feet and stuffed pig intestines and whatnot. You know Koreans are big on octopus, right?” She nodded. “Octopus are ten times smarter than dogs. They can recognize faces. That ought to make eating octopus a thousand times worse than eating bugs.” By the look of her, she wasn’t convinced.

  Then she winced and touched her arm.

  “What’s wrong? The rifle?” It was too heavy, and she’d been practicing too long.

  He moved in front of her and, lifting the sleeve, massaged her arm. Did that constitute caressing? She didn’t try to rebuff him, anyway. They were making progress.

  “What do you think about signing up for the biathlon, Bonehead?”

  “It’s five kilometers of skiing.”

  “We can team up. You carry me piggyback, and I’ll do the shooting.”

  He thought about it. He’d done runs while carrying backpacks heavier than her, that was for sure. It was doable.

  “I’ve got to practice more, though.” She giggled. “Don’t want to kill anyone by mistake.”

  There was that. Maybe next year.

  He stilled at the thought. Did they have that long?

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He bracketed her with his arms, palms on the counter at either side of her. “What for?”

  “For everything. Making me tag along with you. The ice fishing. The shooting. Elastigirl. Cancerland is like living in a bubble. It’s another dimension. One of the rings of hell, to be more precise.” She let out a dry laugh. “When I was ill, all my energy went into surviving. I’ve been in survival mode so long, it’s all I know. But surviving is not living.” She lowered her eyes. “Most people think that when you’re diagnosed with cancer, you get treatment and either recover or die. In or out. Clear cut. The reality is different. Did you see the Alien movies?” He nodded. “I don’t remember which one this was in, but Sigourney Weaver’s character says to the monster, ‘You've been in my life so long, I can't remember anything else.’ It’s the same for me.”

  Her smile was so sad, so resigned, it broke his heart. He cupped her face, gently encouraging her to look up. “That was before me.”

  She stared at him and cocked her head, as if trying to read him and failing miserably. “How come you’re not running away?”

  “I would never run away from you. I’m used to making decisions and following through. I don’t waver.”

  “What do you mean? Which decisions?”

  “We’re going to give this a try.”

  “‘This?’” she asked, stilling.

  “Us.”

  She put the back of her hand against his forehead. “You don’t seem to have fever, but I’m pretty sure the venom from that giant centipede has made it to your brain.”

  Smartass. “I’m not losing my mind, if that’s what you’re implying. I’m head over ass in love with you, boss. I want to be with you.”

  She looked scared. Maybe he was being too straight, but fuck it—that was who he was. “You know I’m leaving in less than two weeks?”

  He came closer. “That gives
me less than two weeks to get you to fall in love with me. Then you won’t want to leave.”

  “Pretty sure of yourself, Bonehead,” she whispered. “There’s one tiny detail: did you forget the part about my remaining lifespan being shorter than a fruit fly’s?”

  “Not relevant, boss.”

  Her beautiful eyes opened wide in panic. “Please don’t do this to me,” she begged. “I don’t think you really understand—”

  “Understand what?” he interrupted. “That you are all I want, all I see? I understand that perfectly.” He nuzzled her nose and kissed her softly on the lips, again and again, until she got tired of trying to talk and opened up for him. She tasted so sweet.

  He cupped the back of her head, deepening the kiss, and spread his other hand over her ass, pressing her flush against him. She moaned inside his mouth, arching her back, trying to get even closer. Man, this was torture—and that was before her small hands found his belt and started fumbling with it.

  “I want you,” he growled. “Very badly.” His voice ended up a notch as she reached for his shirt and tried pulling it over his shoulders. He made quick work of it and then of her sweater. “Pants off. Now.” Jesus, he wasn’t even capable of basic speech.

  “Pizza?”

  “Cold pizza is the best.” He turned the oven off. At least he hoped it was the oven, because he couldn’t take his eyes from her, not even for a second.

  She giggled. After he helped with her zipper, she leaned backward and lifted her hips. “You better take care of pulling my pants down.”

  Fuck, shit, crap. Not one of his best ideas, especially if he expected not to come in the spot. Breathing out slowly and praying for calm, he yanked off her pants. Then he bracketed her again with his arms. “Do you remember our deal?”

  She said nothing, lowering her gaze.

  He tipped her head up with a finger under the chin. “Don’t hide from me. We agreed that you’d accept my scars and I’d accept yours, remember?”

  After several seconds, she grabbed the hem of her camisole and slowly drew the offending piece of clothing over her head. He ripped the waistband of her panties and dropped them, savoring the feel of her soft skin under his hands.

  Finally, she was completely naked on his counter. He stared at her for a long, long time. Tried to speak and choked. He managed it on the second try. “You look so damn beautiful.” The Korean-style tattoo, featuring a dragon surrounded by colorful flowers, went around her upper chest.

  Alec parted her legs and stepped between them. He caressed her arms from hands to elbows to shoulders. Then, with a barely-there touch, he trailed his fingers from her lips down her throat until he reached her chest. He continued in a straight line over the frolicking dragon, down her belly to her pussy. “You’re already wet for me.”

  She trembled under his touch but didn’t move away. “It didn’t turn you off?” Her voice sounded afraid. “My chest, I mean.”

  “Your kick-ass tattoo?” he said, kissing her throat.

  She slapped him on the arm. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  It looked like she was going to say something else, but he slid his fingers inside her and placed his thumb on her clit. She jerked, letting out a ragged moan.

  “How many times should I say it? You could never turn me off. I wanted to eat your pussy before fucking you, but I honestly can’t wait, so I hope you’re ready.” He dropped his pants and boxers without breaking the kiss, and, grabbing her by the waist, lifted her to him. “Can you feel how hard I am? I’m fucking leaking. Never talk about yourself in such a demeaning way again or you’ll have hell to pay from me. Understood?”

  Her hot pussy lips were kissing the crown of his cock. As soon as she nodded, he plunged in. She screamed in pleasure, digging her short nails into his shoulders. He didn’t make it all the way in, but even so, her pussy was so tight and so hot, he almost came right there.

  “More,” she gasped, though her core was barely yielding to his cock.

  “Fuck, boss, you’re killing me here.” He should have gone down on her. Too bad he couldn’t wait—and neither could she.

  Megan encircled his neck, taking control of her own weight, and, looking him straight in the eyes, she impaled herself to his base. “There. Now fuck me. Or I’ll fuck you.”

  He didn’t have to be told twice. He lifted her, both hands on her ass, forcing her pussy to stretch even more. One deep breath, and he was thrusting in and out of her like a madman. Hard. Each plunge drew a ragged moan from Megan who, by the looks of it, was getting closer and closer to her release. She arched her back, urging him and increasing the friction to her clit. Without stopping his onslaught—without any thought other than need—he bent to her chest and kissed her skin.

  She froze. Then, shuddering and hugging him tight, she broke into a fucking intense orgasm, her tiny pussy sucking at him in greedy, rhythmic pulls that dragged him along.

  Chapter 9

  Megan woke up to find herself once again sprawled on top of Alec, face down. Holy cow.

  “Stop squirming,” she heard him growl, his gravelly voice sending shivers all over her body. Which should have been impossible after the excesses of last night.

  After he’d fucked her hard in the kitchen, they’d somehow made it to the bed. Alec had brought her stone-cold pizza. He was right—cold pizza was the best. They devoured every single piece, sitting in bed, talking, laughing and kissing.

  Then he proceeded to devour her. A couple of times, actually. After that he’d let her fuck him, which she’d enjoyed very much. Cowgirl position was one of her absolute favorites, especially when the man underneath her had issues letting someone else lead.

  She’d done it all completely naked. She still couldn’t comprehend that. Why was baring herself to Alec so easy when it had been impossible with anybody else? She was at ease with him, even with his “my way or the highway” attitude, always expecting to be obeyed. Was it because he knew everything that was going on with her? Or was it because, as he’d said, connections formed early in life were very difficult to sever? She didn’t know, but she’d felt so comfortable with him yesterday, she would have done anything he asked of her, let alone be naked.

  However. Hormones were no longer driving them crazy, and it was broad daylight.

  She wrapped herself in the blanket and moved to get off him. He tightened his grip and grunted. “Stop squirming, boss. You don’t want to piss me off so early in the morning.”

  “Or what?” she asked, amused. “You’ll fuck me into submission?”

  “Or I’ll let you fuck me into submission. Either way works for me. And your squirming is making my morning wood even bigger. I figured you needed a rest, but if you don’t, I’m totally game.”

  She could feel his erection against her thigh, pulsing. “I’d rather rest,” she said, trying again to get off him. No luck.

  “I know why you’re squirming,” he said, eyes open now. “Your chest is against my chest with nothing in between. So you’re freaking out, which pisses me off. I like having you in my arms.”

  “You like bossing me around.”

  He winked. “I thought you were the one doing all the bossing.”

  As if. The more they got involved, the more control she relinquished to him. Strangely, she didn’t hate it.

  Suddenly he rolled them and lay on his side, his head propped on one hand. His other hand was on her back, keeping her in place. “I’ve already told you—when I look at you, I see a courageous woman with a kickass tattoo, a gorgeous face, and a to-die-for body that is keeping me in a permanent hard-on ever since I laid eyes on her.” He kissed her softly: brushing her lips, nipping the lower one, and then soothing the spot with his tongue. “After yesterday, we are past that stupid shit, right?”

  She found herself nodding. She was naked in broad daylight, he was inches from her chest, and although she was a bit rattled, she could take it.

  Then she remembered another conversation they’d had b
efore he blew her mind away with sex, about them giving it a go. “Speaking of stupid shit. I’m not sure I got through to you yesterday, but we can’t have anything more than a casual relationship. Sex is all I can offer.”

  His eyes bore down on her, his mouth a compressed line. “Why?”

  She better give it to him straight this time. “Because I’m frigging dying, Alec.”

  “Quit with the excuses.”

  For crying out loud. “Listen, as fantasies go, you’re phenomenal, but—”

  He kissed her again and then spoke against her lips. “I am not a fantasy, Meg. I’m real. If at the end of two weeks you don’t have feelings for me, then let’s have this conversation again.”

  He was killing her. She knew he was real. And she did have feelings for him—how could she not? Which made everything even worse. “I can’t afford real.”

  “Tough shit, because that’s what you’re getting,” he said, looking at her defiantly, like daring her to contradict his words.

  She opened her mouth but shut it again. He’d said he didn’t waver once he’d made up his mind, and she believed him. His intentions were very sweet, admirable even, but he didn’t know what he was signing on for.

  That was okay, though. She would leave as planned, before she got too sick and their relationship got too deep.

  His gruff voice took her out of her reverie. “I’ll take your silence as tacit agreement. Now, what do you want to do today, boss? I thought we could go on a traditional date. Do you want to drive to the closest city? Paris isn’t far. Grand Rapids is farther away, but it’s bigger. Minneapolis?”

  “Nah. I’d rather stay in town.”

  “Then we have two options: bowling or a movie. We can bowl any day, but today is movie day, and in NoName that only happens once every six weeks or so in winter.”

  “You have a movie theater in NoName?” How the hell did she miss that?

  “Something similar,” he replied.

  That was a no-brainer. “Let’s go to see a movie, then. After we practice shooting?”

  Alec laughed and rolled them again until she was on top of him. “You got it, boss.”