by Louisa Bacio
“Can you move? I can’t see,” she said. Even without him touching her, she felt his nearness like the electric currents from his body jumped the space between them and sizzled. If she shifted backward half a step, her body would be flush against his. Rocked by indecision, she lashed out. She could move away, or move closer.
“Sorry, I’m trying to help,” he said, stepping back, hands up in surrender.
“You’re distracting.” Frustration built. She couldn’t concentrate on what needed to be done with him…there. “Yes, there should be a backup. Always have a back-up plan. A Plan B and a Plan C. Guess what? Those plans don’t always work.”
With a pencil tip, she attempted to press in the reset hole. A snap and give told her she’d broken the tip off. Why hadn’t she thought to store a few paper clips? Paper clips could be used as lock picks in a pinch. Another thing to add to the list.
She banged her fists against the door, rewarded with a deep thud. “I give up. We’re not getting out yet.” She glared at him, mentally daring him to say something—anything—sarcastic.
He, wisely, said nothing. Her muscles protested as she stood and stretched out her back, twisting side to side.
“Right,” she said, more to herself, wiping off her hands. “So now to check out the radio.” At least she’d invested in a good one, with rechargeable batteries, a solar panel, a crank, and an external antenna. She also grabbed an old watch from the same shelf. Almost seven-thirty.
She’d been unconscious for that long? She touched the sore spot on her head, wincing. It could have been so much worse.
The radio powered on with a crackle, and she searched through the stations, static, and voices melding together, until she recognized the familiar voices of the hosts on KFI AM 640.
“Power’s out across the Southland. Minor injuries reported.” A burst of disruption broke through, cutting out the voices. “105 Freeway closed, checking for structural damage.” She could all too well imagine the stretch of freeway closed down for inspection. She hated the long overpass connecting the 405 to the 105. It stretched high up in the air and ended at a stoplight to join the flow of traffic. The last time she’d been on it, she’d gotten caught at the highest point for almost ten minutes. The entire time she was up there, she’d thought, What if there was an earthquake right now? She and the rest of the drivers would go plummeting down, cars and all. Maybe not. Engineers in Southern California studied ways to keep everything intact in such situations. Still, did they know what would happen before it struck?
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sebastian slump his shoulders. “Not much help at the moment,” she said as she turned the radio off. It would be useless to try to look out the periscope at night, when the lights were out. The lack of news was much better than a high death count and looting. She relaxed a bit, but he seemed even more wound up.
“Sounds like we’re going to be here for the duration,” he said. He cracked his knuckles, picked up his guitar, and settled down on the cot. The music possessed a longing that allured, attracted, and seeped into Kayla’s soul.
Chapter Four
They settled into a quiet truce on opposite sides of the bunker. Sebastian stretched out on a cot while Kayla worked in the kitchen, making bread. Working with her hands was relaxing, and gave her freedom to think. The repetition soothed her, plus, there was the added benefit of coming up with something delicious.
From a shelf, she took out a plastic bowl and wooden spoon and added some seven-grain flour, a pinch of brown sugar, baking soda, salt, oil, and buttermilk powder mixed with water. As a secret ingredient, she tossed in dried bacon. She mixed it together then stretched to flick on the fan.
A loud whirling sound erupted in the enclosed space.
“What the bloody hell is that?” Sebastian said, bolting into a sitting position.
Stifling a laugh, she pointed upward. “Exhaust fan. Takes out all the smoke while I cook.”
He humphed in response, but got up and watched what she was doing.
She turned on a small portable burner and placed the dough in a pan, covering it and checking her watch. Within a few minutes, the sultry scent of bread seeped out, and she resisted the urge to take a peek.
“What are you making?” He poked around in the food-storage area. “You sure do have a variety down here.”
Passing over the first question, she answered, “I tend to get bored eating the same thing over and over.” She shrugged. “Sure, basic shelter food may be some nonperishables, but I figure why be boring? If it’s the end of the world and we’re isolated, then why not bring some delicacies, too.”
“No beans ’n franks? I thought canned food would be a staple.”
“Don’t worry; I’ve got plenty of that, but I’m also all about whole grains that can be milled. Some complex flours. Might even have a secret stash of chocolate. You know, all those necessities.”
“Mmmm, chocolate. Maybe we can melt some on your hot body later.” He gripped her hips, and let his presence be known. His actions earned him a swat away.
“Don’t make me burn this. Even with a fan, I don’t think burned bread is going to smell good down here.”
She grabbed the spatula and slid her hand into a pot holder, lifted the lid, and flipped over the bread, satisfied with the nice browning on one side. Now, to slice salami and a little bit of cheese. As a final thought, she opened a can of olives with a pull-tab and poured them in a bowl. She hated those pull-tabs on a daily basis, but they sure came in handy in an emergency.
After unfolding a small table, she spread out her favorite tablecloth, a cornflower-blue-and-yellow Provence pattern. The cheerfulness infused her with a springtime happiness like a picnic on a sunny, secluded beach, and about now she needed it. Okay, it was really an oversize napkin not a real tablecloth—there wasn’t that much room down here—but it still had the same effect.
Sebastian had made his way back on the cot and was strumming his guitar again. It seemed like his go-to position. In the few hours they’d been trapped together, she’d learned so much about him, his quirks and idiosyncrasies. So far, she found them both infuriating and cute.
“Are you ready to eat?” she asked, setting out two glasses.
“You can count on it.” He approached her with a smile and when his gaze landed on the feast, they grew wider. “Damn. You weren’t kidding.”
He tucked into the meal and his enthusiasm made the half-hour of cooking worth her time. Nothing like a satisfied customer. The bread had come out crunchy and dense, not as perfect as if she’d baked it in an oven or even a bread machine, but she couldn’t beat the quick time and results. Without preservatives, they’d have to eat it within a day or so. By tomorrow morning, it would be hard but still edible.
The perfect bite was composed of a thin slice of bread, topped with salami, cheese, and then an olive on top. She tossed the combination in her mouth and moaned in delight. Maybe next meal, she’d unpack some of the sundried tomatoes, too.
“I like that,” Sebastian said, disturbing her culinary fantasy.
When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her. “Like what? The food?”
“The noises you make. I imagine that’s what you’ll sound like when I make you come. For someone so quiet, you enjoy a lot of the pleasures, don’t you?”
She was glad he couldn’t see the full blush on her cheeks in the dim lighting. She looked down, coming back to center. He’d delved deep into her psyche, too. Since she spent so much time alone, she made sure not to scrimp on the finer items. Who knew when the Big One, the big earthquake would come along? She could prepare as much as possible, carry an emergency kit in her car, keep a stockpile at home. Still, the future was uncertain. Having someone to share it with, right now, changed her perspective a bit.
Instead of it being her against the world, they were in the disaster situation together.
A flush of emotion made her self-aware. When Kayla had put together this hideaway, she’d thought of
just about everything. Too bad she hadn’t packed any condoms.
When she didn’t answer his question, Sebastian dropped it. “If your family is all prepared for a natural disaster, where are your parents?” he asked. “Will they be worried?”
Glad he had left it alone, she said, “A few years ago, they moved to Missouri. The earthquake in Japan, tsunami, and nuclear meltdown, made my dad want to be in a more centralized part of the US. On the Pacific Coast, we’re too close to potential fallout. Have you seen some of the tracking of waste that’s made the journey across to our shores?”
He nodded. “Sure. I’ve heard blokes say some have taken years.”
“That we know of. Those are the larger pieces. Probably more we don’t know about.”
“We shouldn’t fear what we can’t see,” he said, tapping the table with the bottom of his glass.
“Or maybe we should fear it even more.”
Stalemate. They grew quiet and continued to eat.
Sebastian took a long drink of water. She watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed.
“Only you and your parents, then? No siblings,” he said.
“I’ve got a sister, too,” she said. “She’s a few years younger than me and lives in San Diego.”
Mackenzie was in grad school, and Kayla hoped she was all right. For living so close, they didn’t talk much, but she didn’t hold any hard feelings against her.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to finish.
“She’s not a believer,” she said.
“Doesn’t have a bunker in her home?” he asked, looking around.
“Nope. You know how some people come from a strict religious family, and they grow up with opposing views, kind of like a backlash? That’s Mackenzie. Drives her car down to fumes, keeps enough food in the house to last a week at most. The last time I opened her fridge, I found a few yogurts and Diet Coke. Oh, and a box of leftover pizza, and her cupboards are even worse.”
“She thinks you’re nutters?” he said.
His accent combined with the word “nutters” made his comment even funnier. She hadn’t heard the term before, but it perfectly described how her sister saw her—to the extreme. She laughed, feeling the mood brighten. “Probably as much as I think she’s irresponsible. What about you?”
“I’ve got one older brother and two younger sisters,” he said. “We don’t all get together often. The youngest, Lizzie, still lives at home.”
“Do you miss them?” she asked.
“Only Lizzie.”
She got up and brought the plates over to the sink.
“Can I help you at all?” he asked, moving close enough so she could once again feel his presence.
“Not now; we’ll see how long this goes on for.”
He rinsed off his hands before returning to his music. His fingers slipped into the starting position, and he strummed.
Chapter Five
Close quarters. Despite the amenities of the premises, Sebastian couldn’t ignore they were underground forever. Every time his mind fluttered to that, his heart stuttered and his palms grew damp. Putting aside the guitar, he tracked Kayla’s movements. She moved with efficiency, cleaning up after dinner and taking stock of the supplies. He needed a distraction, and Kayla proved to be the best one around.
“You going to keep avoiding me all night?” he said.
With a half-turn, she glanced at him. “I’m not. I’m just tidying up. You can entertain yourself.”
He wasn’t so sure. Left alone, he tended to get into trouble. In this type of situation, it was even worse.
“I thought that was your job,” he lobbed back to her. He wanted a reaction, a fight, a smile, something.
“I’m no longer on the clock. We’re in survival mode now.”
She squatted down, real low, searching for something on the bottom shelf of a rack. She pushed until satisfied with whatever she was doing.
Although petite, she was a fireball of energy. He was more used to women who liked to be pampered, not ones who took care of him without some sort of ulterior motive. Sure, her agency wanted his account, but he knew there was something between them. It wasn’t like he shagged every available woman.
Why was he pushing the issue of attraction? He wasn’t hard up or anything. Outside the bunker, he had plenty of women throwing themselves at him, but then Kayla was intense, serious, and he liked the contrast. Despite whatever came with it, the video shoot had introduced him to her. If they could not get rescued, then maybe he’d make the best of it.
Once finished, she stood with her hands on her hips and studied their surroundings. Time to make his move. He drew closer, testing the waters between them. Would she continue to flee from his advances?
She glanced at him and a slight flush lit up her cheekbones. The only sign of emotion. He wanted to rile her up, get a real reaction. As an artist, he displayed his emotions through his songwriting. He wanted to know the real her.
“Why don’t I take out my notebook, and we can write some of those fears down? You know, voicing your fears can sometimes help get rid of them.”
“I’m not afraid.” Despite her strong words, her voice trembled.
The smoothness of her cheek called out to him, and he ran his fingertips down the side, his thumb grazing over her lower lip. She seemed more comfortable flying solo. He glanced around the bunker. Despite having ample supplies, she hadn’t counted on being holed up with someone she didn’t know.
“What are you hiding from, down in here? Life?”
She brushed aside his comment with a flick of her hand, turning away from him. “You don’t know me, and you don’t get to judge me.” Her voice quivered.
“Excuse me for trying to care,” he said. This time, rather than deflecting, he pursued, placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her around. “I want to know you better.”
He stared down at her mouth. “Fuck it.” He kissed her and her soft lips opened under his. A whisper of feeling, lips brushing against lips. Her breath tickled his mouth, and he pressed in harder, wanting more and taking more.
She opened, granting him access to her tender tongue. He ventured forth, stroking his tongue over her full bottom lip before deepening the kiss. Hesitantly at first, the tip of hers touched his, and then the slow, sensuous dance began.
She melted into his arms, plush against his hardness. She tasted sweet, like the chocolate she’d mentioned earlier. Had she snuck a piece during dishes? He grew light-headed, and his passions warred. He knew better than to get involved with her, but he still wanted her—badly. How could one unassuming woman turn his life so upside down, and so quickly? Or maybe, she was making it right-side up.
Sebastian ground his hips against her, his cock instinctively seeking entrance of another kind. Each stroke of his tongue brought their bodies closer together. He moved his hands around Kayla’s waist, over her lower back, to rest on the top of her ass. He reined himself in from going further. He didn’t want to scare her away by moving too fast. Oh, how he wanted to cup her arse and lift her against him. As if she knew exactly what he was thinking, she moaned against his mouth.
Sebastian’s libido spiked, and he was more turned on than he had been in a very, very long time.
He kissed her with all the creative energy and pent-up passion he’d been holding back. Kayla nibbled on his lower lip, and he maneuvered them around to push her against the wall. He held onto her hands, bringing them up above her head, as if holding her chained in place. What would it be like to have his way with her body to do as how he’d like? Her mouth opened farther and he plundered. His body took the cues from his mind, and his spirits lifted. She may be the one able to heal him.
And all this from a kiss.
When they broke away, she breathed heavily and an adorable flush brightened her cheeks. A bit of pride flared in his chest.
“Wow, what was that all about?” she asked.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for hours, and i
t was better than I had hoped.” He smacked his lips. “Hey, were you sneaking chocolate on me?”
“Whoops,” she said, covering her mouth. “You caught me. I promise I was going to share.”
“Right. Naughty girl.”
She worried the corner of her nail, retreating into herself. He didn’t want to push too hard, too fast, so he let her go. He leaned in, barely touching his lips against hers. “Brilliant.”
“What?”
“You’re brilliant. You make me feel alive.”
Kayla’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “It’s only nine-thirty; what do you want to do?” She rushed over to a cabinet and opened it. Inside were a heap of board games.
Oh, he could think of a whole bunch of things instead of the board games occupying her attention. A kiss like that deserved to be followed up with further ravishment. The earth rumbled, giving them a quick jolt. His pulse rate skyrocketed.
“Aftershock,” she said, holding onto the shelf.
Just as fast, it stopped. “That one wasn’t so bad.” He did a mental countdown to calm his nerves and found himself not as panicked.
“Just a temblor.” Holding a game of Scrabble out, she asked, “White flag?”
“Wow, haven’t seen one of those in forever. I’m used to playing the electronic version on my mobile.” He cracked his fingers in an exaggerated stretch. “But I’m sure I can manage old school.”
They laid the board on the cot between them, and each picked a single tile from the bag to decide who went first.
“So, are we playing dirty Scrabble?” he asked, selecting his seven tiles.
“Does everything go back to sex with you?”
“It’s my masking mechanism,” he said. If she only knew the truth. “Hard to think about dire circumstances when your sensual synapses are on overload. How about rather than keeping score, we trade points for kisses?”
She ignored the explanation. She tended to close up when she didn’t know what to say.
“Color,” he said, laying out his word. “C-o-l-o-u-r.”