Falling Together (All That Remains #2)

by S. M. Shade

  Falling Together

  All That Remains: Book Two

  by

  S. M. Shade

  Copyright © 2014 S.M. Shade

  All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. All characters and events portrayed are fictitious. Any similarities to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Airen

  A lusty cry fills the room, reverberating off the walls and rousing us from a whopping three hours of sleep.

  “Go ahead, I have him,” Abby mumbles, scooping our screaming bundle into bed with her. I don’t know a lot about babies, but I assume they do occasionally sleep. Lane has amazing stamina for a six week old.

  “Are you sure?” She’s exhausted. We both are.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I watch my wife as she talks soothingly to our little night owl, and offers him her small bared breast. Sunlight streams through the window, surrounding them in soft light, painting her long brown hair with a tinge of red. They’re beautiful. She smiles up at me when I run my fingers through his dark, fine hair that reaches below his ears. It’s so silky.

  “You’re going to have to learn to share those, boy.” My grin is suggestive as I picture her spread out beneath me, begging for more. “It’s been six weeks,” I murmur.

  She yawns, not exactly the response I was hoping to receive. “I’d be happy with a shower and a nap.”

  “I know darlin’. I’ll be three hours. No longer, I promise. Joseph and Troy are coming to help me get the west field tilled so we can plant tomorrow.”

  “Be careful,” she replies absently, meeting my lips for a quick kiss before reclining on the bed, cradling Lane as he breastfeeds.

  “Call me if you need me.”

  It’s been a little more than two years since the plague demolished our way of life, but we’ve found ways to improvise. It’s true she can’t just pick up the phone and call me to come home, or remind me to stop for a gallon of milk, but the two way radios work perfectly well for our purposes. We have power, thanks to Joseph and his genius with alternative energies, and we have an abundant supply of bottled water to drink, but we still have to boil and filter water for bathing and washing clothes.

  Most of our time is now spent growing and preserving food. There is no shortage of canned foods, but many are beginning to expire and we can’t afford to get food poisoning. We’re incredibly lucky to have Julie, finding a doctor among the few survivors was like a miracle. Knowledge is the highest commodity in this post plague environment, and I’m extremely grateful to be surrounded by such intelligent people.

  “You look like hell,” Joseph remarks when I meet him and his boyfriend, Troy, at Julie’s house.

  “Fuck you very much,” I grumble. “Let’s do this. Lane was up half the night and I promised Abby I wouldn’t be too long.”

  “Shouldn’t he be sleeping better by now?”

  “I don’t know. Abby said Carson didn’t sleep through the night until after he learned to walk.” God, I hope that’s not the case. A year of crying and sleep deprivation and I’ll be fit for a straight jacket.

  “Let me have him for tonight, Airen,” Julie offers.

  “Oh! Please!” Jayla says. “I’ll stay up with him.” A grin spreads across my face as I study my daughter. I found her alone in Georgia when she was twelve. She’s a beautiful, caring, and fiercely intelligent child.

  “You may not feel that way when he’s screaming the house down at four a.m. I appreciate the offer, but you don’t have to do that. We can handle him.”

  “Well, of course we don’t have to, we want to spend time with him. Now hand him over so we can love on him until we wear him out,” Julie replies, handing me a large jug of ice water. In addition to being our own lifesaving physician, she’s also very kind, like a mother to us, a grandmother to the kids.

  My mother died of kidney failure during the plague. There are times when I think of her, and miss the soft sound of her voice, but she and Julie are worlds apart. My upbringing was privileged. I had everything I needed and most of what I wanted. We just weren’t a close knit family. It’s true life is more difficult now, more dangerous, but I’ve never been happier. Strenuous love and affection trumps lonely luxury, any day.

  “I don’t know if Abby will go for it. I’ll talk to her.” She really needs the rest, and then I really need to fuck her ragged.

  “It’s settled. I’m coming to get him at noon,” Julie insists, and Jayla dances with excitement.

  “Thank you.” I plant a kiss on each of their cheeks.

  “Airen!” Julie calls as Joseph, Troy, and I file outdoors. “Let the poor girl get some sleep.”

  Giving her my “who, me?” look earns me an exasperated shake of her head. “I promise to behave myself.” I grin, holding up my right hand.

  Joseph snorts his disbelief. “Do you want to talk to Abby before we get started?”

  “Nah, let’s get it done. I’ll explain before Julie shows up to collect him.” With the three of us dividing the work, we finish quickly and head to my house for lunch.

  We’re scarcely through the door when Abby’s voice echoes down the hall, making me wince. “Airen Lane Holder!” What the hell did I do now? Shit, she yells at me like I’m a kid.

  “Uh oh,” Joseph mutters under his breath as we walk into the living room where Abby, Julie, and Jayla are congregated.

  “What the hell makes you think I can’t take care of my own baby? I raised Carson on my own, didn’t I? You send Julie to come to the rescue like I can’t handle it!” Her serious brown eyes glare at me, but I can see a layer of hurt just beneath the surface of her anger as if I’ve doubted her, called her parenting abilities into question.

  “Abby, she offered and I thought we could use a break.” Her jaw tightens and she stalks into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Five sets of eyes stare at me, waiting for my reaction. Why does she have to be so damn stubborn? Neither of us has had more than four hours of sleep per night since Lane was born. “Julie, I appreciate the offer, but I guess tonight isn’t a good time. I’ll talk to her once she calms down.” Squaring her shoulders, Julie glances at me and starts toward the bedroom.

  “There goes a brave woman,” Carson says. I think she’s wasting her time trying to reason with Abby when she’s like this, but I reluctantly follow her into the bedroom. Lane sleeps in the center of our bed, while Abby perches on the edge of the love seat, folding a basket of his laundry. It’s amazing how many tiny outfits are in one load.

  “Abby.” Julie sits next to her on the love seat. Abby ignores her and continues to sort through the laundry until Julie grabs her wrist and exclaims, “Stop. Look at me for a moment.” She turns and regards Julie with a guarded expression. “I asked Airen to keep Lane tonight because I wanted to, and Jayla is so excited to take care of him. You’re a wonderful mother and no one doubts your ability to care for your kids, but, dear, everyone needs a break, and you’re surrounded by family
that wants to help if you’ll just give us the chance.”

  My chest tightens as Abby bursts into tears. “He just won’t sleep.”

  She sobs as Julie wraps her in a hug. “You’re exhausted, and you may be having a little postpartum depression. Let me take care of Lane tonight. Jayla and I can handle him.”

  “I know.” With a sniff, she glances up at me apologetically. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  Mark the calendar and alert the press, Abby Holder just admitted she was wrong and apologized in record time. I’m stunned again when she reaches for me, wrapping her arms around my hips, her forehead resting against my stomach. My hands travel through her hair before I lean to drop a kiss on the crown of her head. God knows I love her, but she can try my patience. “It’s okay. I’m worried about you, darlin’. You need some rest.” She nods and wipes her eyes, rising from the sofa.

  Julie collects Lane’s clothes and Abby retrieves a container of breast milk from the fridge. For a moment, I’m sure I’ll have to pry the baby from her arms, but after kissing and cuddling him again, she hands him over to Jayla.

  “Can I stay at Joseph’s tonight?” Carson asks. He wants to get out of here and I can’t say I blame him. Abby laughs and gives him permission to escape.

  Joseph wraps his arms around Abby, and pulls her into a hug. “I’m here anytime you need me, honey. I’d love to watch my godson sometime.” She nods against his chest and wipes her eyes again before thanking him. I hate to see her so weepy. It’s not like her. She hates to be caught crying.

  After everyone leaves, Abby returns to folding laundry while I silently fill the tub with hot water, adding her favorite bath oil. I’m partial to it as well, it makes her skin soft, and the smell of coconut always reminds me of her.

  “Come on.” I tug my exhausted, stubborn, lovely wife to her feet.

  “Air, I should finish this.”

  “Nope,” I reply, moving the basket out of the way and leading her to the sweet smelling bath. “You’re going to take a bath with me and then we’re going to sleep. No arguments.”

  “Yes, sir.” Her sarcastic little salute makes me grin. There’s my girl. Oh, she’s going to get it.

  I pull her shirt over her head, and she slips out of her shorts and panties. Damn. It’s been over six weeks since I’ve had her and she looks so inviting. My hands itch to touch those luscious curves and soft, smooth skin, but I have to keep my hands off her. Once we’re in the tub, she relaxes back against my chest with a soft sigh. I run the washcloth over her shoulders, and my groin tightens when she hums with delight. As I wash her hair, my eyes keep finding their way back to her breasts, round and swollen, nipples hard from the cool air. The feel of the silky strands between my fingers add to the hard on growing between my legs. When her head dips back and she closes her eyes, revealing the creamy curve of her neck, I can’t resist the urge to run my lips down the soft skin.

  “What would I do without you?” she whispers.

  “You could do better.”

  “Never. I love you so much.”

  “Back at you, darlin’.”

  We go from bath to bed, after pulling the curtains to block out the late afternoon sunshine. I want her, but we are just too tired. I should be taking better care of my wife. She presses her naked body against mine and I nuzzle her neck before our eyes slam shut.

  It’s evening when I wake, feeling better than I have in weeks. I pull the covers over Abby and creep out of the room, leaving her to sleep before I succumb to the temptation of her naked body in our bed.

  Wow, the house is spotless, and a note is taped to the fridge.

  Abby,

  We only wanted to help so please don’t beat us in our sleep.There’s a casserole in the fridge for dinner. Troy made it, so I can’t promise it’s edible. Call if you need us.

  Love,

  Joseph and Troy

  We must have been dead to the world for them to have done all of this without waking us. The next couple hours find me stretched out on the couch watching a movie. I can’t even recall the last time I had the opportunity to relax alone so I’m taking advantage of it. I intend to let Abby sleep as long as she needs, but she’s going to get it when she wakes.

  The credits are scrolling up the screen when I hear her moving around, and the thought of her breaks my reverie. There are so many familiar names in those ending credits, friends and coworkers that are two years in their graves. My life as an actor and model seems more and more like a dream instead of a memory. I’m happy here, but I still miss the person I was.

  When I peek in on her, she’s bent over the sink, brushing her teeth. Christ, look at her in those little boy shorts. A woman once told me men only have enough blood for one head to function at a time, and tonight, my lower one has the upper hand. “What?” she asks with an innocent grin when she catches me staring. She squeals as I sweep her up and toss her on the bed.

  Fighting the urge to rip her panties off and shove inside her, I draw the smooth skin of her neck between my lips and suck gently in the way that drives her crazy. It’s her weak spot; she can never resist. She melts beneath me and her hands dive into my hair, tugging lightly. Later, she’ll try to pull it out at the roots. Smooth, sweet lips close over mine, sucking them before parting to allow access to her warm mouth. With slow deep strokes, I explore the familiar softness that I never tire of tasting, and she responds with a tiny moan, her tongue moving feverishly against mine.

  I have bedded my share of women, but this woman puts them all to shame. She’s that special combination of sweet and absolutely ruthless in her pursuit of pleasure, hers and mine. So passionate, and not afraid to let me see it. If she likes something, she makes sure I know it, and her cries for more strike me like a physical blow, enflaming and arousing me past the point of any cognitive thought. There’s only Abigail. Her smell, her taste, her groans, the feel of her skin plastered to mine, and the clench of her thighs around my hips as she loses control.

  She moans as I kiss down her neck to her breast, pausing to lap and suck at each nipple until she writhes and grinds her hips against me. “Mmm, you’re so soft, I love it,” I murmur, trailing my lips across her belly. Her hands fist the sheets as I lick up her inner thigh before burying my face between her legs. Fuck, she tastes so good. Her moans and whimpers fill my ears and she struggles to hold still as I increase the pressure, working my tongue in slow circles until her legs tighten and her breathing becomes erratic.

  “Airen.” She pants, pleading for me to put her out of her misery, but I keep her right at the edge, drawing out her pleasure and filling my senses with her scent and taste. I live to see this woman lose control. When I slip my finger inside her and find her spot, she comes with barely a brush of my fingertip, shaking and crying my name. Her hands fist in my hair, yanking until it hurts. Fuck, she has no idea how much that turns me on. Without allowing her a chance to recover, I pull her legs around my hips, and she clamps them around me as I drive deep, catching her shocked cry with a tender kiss. God, she’s perfect. Hot and tight and wet. Giving her a second to adjust and stretch is a serious test of my restraint, but I don’t want to hurt her. “You good, darlin’?”

  “Yes… please…God you feel good.” She thrusts her hips and they slam against mine, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. I nearly come from the look on her face, completely uninhibited, her only focus is slaking her need, satisfying her body’s demands. “Harder, please,” she begs, her hands digging into my ass. I increase my rhythm and plunge deeper, losing myself in the feel of her, surrendering myself to the overpowering compulsion to move faster, thrust harder.

  “Fuck, Abby…so good.” Drips of sweat fall from my forehead to run down her neck.

  “Don’t stop…don’t…” A familiar little whimper tells me she’s close. A light scrape of teeth across her nipple and another pounding stroke sends her over the top. I bury myself inside her as she clenches around me and cries out her pleasure. Her arms wrap around me, and h
old me tight while I follow her, growling her name and clinging to her body as if I’ll drown without it.

  “I’ve missed this,” I murmur. Shiny, chestnut hair clings to my skin while her cool cheek rests against the damp heat of my chest, her soft body pressing against my side.

  “Me too.” Her fingers run through my chest hair.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to get up. It feels so good to lie here with you.” I’m met with that shy smile that urges me to corrupt her. In the heat of the moment, when her self doubt is forgotten, she’ll cry out for what she wants, demand and beg with no shame. But after, I get my sweet Abigail who blushes if I stare at her. It’s a disarming combination that makes me want to dirty her up.

  “Oh, I’m not done with you,” I warn, making her giggle. “But first we need some energy. Come on.” I tug her to her feet. “Joseph and Troy brought us a mystery casserole.”

  “That was sweet of them.”

  “I waited for you to taste it first.”

  * * * *

  Abby

  “I needed the rest. I feel like a new person.”

  “Are you actually admitting that I was right?” Airen grins sarcastically, and I roll my eyes at him.

  “What I said was…”

  “I heard you,” he gloats, interrupting.

  “Fine. You win. You were right. I needed a break,” I concede with a giggle.

  A wide smile spreads across that gorgeous face. “It’s good to hear that giggle again. I wonder what could possibly have made you so happy?” he teases, arching an eyebrow suggestively.

  “Yes, Airen, there are no problems that cannot be solved by your penis.”

  “Thank you.”

  I shake my head in exasperation, but he was right. I’ve felt half insane the past few weeks trying to care for Lane. Even the three hours of sleep we get on a good night are rarely unbroken, and it’s wearing on both of us. Julie has offered to keep Lane overnight once or twice per week, and Joseph will watch him for a few hours in the morning so Airen and I can catch up on some much needed sleep, among other things. I swear he’s like a horny teenage boy sometimes.