Fuck. Stop. He cleared his throat, feeling awkward, like he needed to make small talk. He’d never have guessed making conversation would be a skill he’d need during an apocalypse. “So, you’re a seventh grade teacher, right?”
“Was. I was a seventh grade teacher.”
“You liked it?”
“Loved it. Yeah.” There was wistfulness in her voice.
“So what? You taught during the day. Jogged in the evenings. Took, what? Martial arts classes? Jiu-jitsu? Something, ‘cause you can fight like a fucking demon. Went to the movies with your girlfriends on the weekends. Sometimes tried wine bars. Set up a profile on some dating website but never actually used it…”
“Excuse me, but I never set up a profile on a dating website.”
Creed laughed at the indignation in her voice. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
“What makes you think you know so much about me anyway?”
He shrugged. “Am I wrong?”
“No, just…”
“I bet I know your type too.”
“Oh yeah? Tell me, Creed. What’s my type?”
Creed smiled. She was getting worked up, and he was enjoying it. “The last guy you dated was… let me think… an accountant. At first he seemed interesting because he was smart—you like smart guys—but after a few dates you realized he was really boring. And he was an awful kisser.”
Nina didn’t respond, but her forehead crinkled.
“I’m right. I know it. Come on, Nina. Tell me the truth.”
She rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t an accountant.” She was silent for a few seconds. Then she burst out laughing. “He was a financial analyst! And he was the worst kisser ever. His mouth was really dry, and he moved his lips in this weird way, like a fish.” She pushed her lips out opened and closed them quickly.
Creed chuckled. “Told you I could guess your type.”
“That’s just one guy. Not a type.”
He shrugged. “I bet they all bored you, though, didn’t they, sweetheart? You strike me as the type who can take care of herself. You want to be in control. But at the same time, you need someone who won’t let you walk all over him.”
“You strike me as the type who thinks he knows more than he does.”
“Am I wrong?”
“How is this any of your business?” She scowled at him. “So what’s your type, then, since you think you’ve got mine all nailed down.”
“Don’t have one.”
“Equal opportunity dater?”
“Pretty much.” He shrugged.
“I bet you,” said Nina, “avoid relationships like the plague.” She gave him an assessing look. “You have that extra helmet to take girls for rides on your motorcycle, impress them with your virility and masculinity, but once you’re done with them, you push them out the door.”
Fuck. She was right. He enjoyed women, but ever since getting back from Iraq, he’d wanted nothing to do with emotional attachments. Hearing it out loud, though, sounded pretty awful.
“Am I wrong?” This time she was the one asking.
“Either we’re both open books or we’re both armchair psychologists,” said Creed.
“So I was right?” she asked, almost gleefully. “Love ‘em and leave ‘em?”
“But I never led anyone on,” he added, wanting to make that part clear. “I was honest from the very beginning.”
“So it’s OK to be a dick as long as you tell them you’re going to first?”
“Seriously? I wasn’t treating anyone like a dick. It’s OK for two adults to have a casual sexual relationship if that’s what they’re after. Don’t tell me you’re that much of a prude.”
Nina put her hands up. “I’m sorry.” She sounded like she meant it. “You’re right. I just like teasing you. And for your information, I’m not a prude.”
“So you and Fish Lips got all wild and crazy, huh?”
“Shut up!” Nina grabbed a throw pillow and swung it at him.
Creed laughed loudly as he threw up his arms to defend himself.
Nina settled back down, stretching her legs out in front of her and resting her feet on the coffee table.
Creed’s laughter stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away, not even if someone had held a gun to his fucking head.
Nina’s legs were bare, glowing in the light from the fire. Firm, muscled, the swell of her calves strong but sweet. It took all of his strength not to move closer, not to reach out his hand to caress the soft skin just above her knee.
He cursed inwardly at his weakness for her, at the fact that a mere hint of skin could get his entire body on edge.
“Anyway,” she said. “I’m going to go get something to drink. You want anything?” She stood up, holding the blanket closed with one hand.
“Nah, I’m good.”
She shrugged and turned to go, and for no good reason except acting like a thirteen-year-old playing pranks, he stood up and stepped on the end of her blanket that trailed on the floor, so as she walked away, it fell right off.
For a second she stood still, and all Creed could see was her ass, perfectly round, partially covered by a pair of black panties. She was gorgeous from behind, her long red curls falling down past her shoulders, which were covered only with the thin straps of her tank top. The dark fabric clung to her back and waist, and then that ass. It curved back at him, begging for him to reach out and touch it, grab it. Except he knew she’d be pissed.
She was probably already pissed, and there was no way she’d believe the lie that stepping on the end of her blanket had been an accident. He braced himself for an onslaught of curse words as, slowly, she turned around.
Nina didn’t yell at him, though. Instead she stood there, her hair looking like fire in the glow from the flames. There was just enough light so he could tell she was staring right into his eyes.
That feeling. That instant when you know the other person wants you too, and just as fucking hard.
Creed felt his whole body pulse, his cock harden fast, as he waited to see what would happen next. He could make the move, but he wanted to wait a second to see if Nina would do it first. Like everything with Nina, it was a game, a challenge.
She took one step forward, moving closer to him, and that was all he needed to move closer to her, just near enough so that their bodies were almost touching. But not quite.
“Nina,” he growled, reaching out one finger to trace it along her shoulder and down her arm. He could feel her tremble under his touch. He could smell her desire, he swore he could, and it made him drunk and lightheaded, like there wasn’t enough air to breathe in this house. In the entire world.
“Creed,” she whispered, and something about his name on her lips made him even harder.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he muttered, moving a hair’s breadth closer to her, “I didn’t... I don’t...” He wasn’t sure what he meant to say, and his words trailed off.
“I know,” she whispered, reaching out and running her hand up under his T-shirt, feeling along his chest gently, her fingers delicate and cool on his skin.
When her hand moved lower, touching the skin just above the rise of his jeans, he couldn’t stand it anymore. Grasping a handful of her luscious curls, he turned her head upward and bent down, his lips harsh against hers as they kissed. A moan escaped her lips, the sound traveling instantly to his throbbing dick. He bit her bottom lip, then kissed her like he was starving, his tongue finding hers, his body mad with desire.
Nina kissed him back hard, like she meant it, and when her body moved closer still to his, when she ground against him, he felt like he could come just from kissing her. The skin of her stomach, when he ran a hand under her tank top, was smooth and hot, and he spread his hand open wide, feeling as much of her at once as he could. He moved his fingers up until he touched the underside of her breast, then cupped it, roughly playing with her nipple with his thumb. He needed to taste her. Yanking her tank top up over her breasts, he bent his head, suc
king on her nipple, then moving to the other one.
Nina threw her head back, releasing more of the sweet smell of her hair. As he kissed her neck, then bit it gently, she moaned once more. His name, whispered from her lips, was an aphrodisiac, and Creed’s blood heated up, desire coursing through his veins hotter than lava. He grasped her ass in his hands, feeling the perfect roundness he’d wanted to touch for days now, and pulled her toward him hard, his cock swelling against her body.
They kissed again, and he could feel Nina’s hunger in the way her mouth opened so willingly for him, in the way her tongue met his immediately, in the sudden softening of her body against his, like she was saying yes without speaking.
She slipped a hand between them, running it over the denim that covered his rock-hard cock. “Nina,” he hissed at her touch, wanting more, wanting to feel her soft hand against his bare skin.
Nina took one step backward, then pulled the tank top that he’d pushed up earlier over her head, tossing it onto the floor. She stood before him in only her black panties, her body pale, those thick red curls coursing down past her shoulders. Her breasts were round, perfect milky handfuls, and her nipples were small, hard, and dark. He gazed at her stomach, then lower, past her belly button, to the skin just above her black underwear, her hips curving into muscular legs that he planned to have wrapped around him as soon as humanly possible. He thought of those legs squeezing him as he plunged into her again and again.
There was no holding back now. He pulled her toward him once more, greedily reaching between her legs and pushing the damp fabric of her panties aside so he could finally feel her pussy, already so warm and wet. Groaning in desire, he held back, touching her lightly, too lightly, he knew, and she rubbed her body against his trying to gain friction. Keeping his touch light, he found her swollen clit, skimming over it with his index finger just enough to elicit a moan from her gorgeous mouth.
“Creed,” she whispered again, and he devoured her mouth, kissing her hard and fast, plunging one finger deep inside her so she gasped into the kiss. She was wet, so wet, and his only thought was how good it would feel to finally thrust his cock inside her.
He was about to pick her up, carry her to the bedroom, when a loud creaking sound outside on the front door stopped them both. Someone was on the porch.
“Get down, Nina,” he whispered, gesturing to the couch, hoping she’d crouch behind it while he checked out the noise outside. He grabbed his gun from the coffee table, then, keeping low, darted to the front door.
The adrenaline from making out with Nina had quickly morphed into the adrenaline of danger, and he flattened himself against the wall next to the window. Slowly he pushed the curtain back just an inch with the muzzle of his gun, just enough so he could see outside.
He could just make out the shape of an animal’s long skinny legs as the deer looked toward the window, then bolted off into the darkness.
With a sigh of relief, he let the curtain fall back into place. “It’s just a deer.” He took a few deep breaths, the exhilaration of danger falling away.
When he turned back to Nina, he expected to see her down low, staying relatively safe while he checked out the situation. But there she stood, in only those black panties, lowering her gun. She’d been ready to back him up.
There was something about her, almost naked with a firearm, that was sexy. But in that second he saw something vulnerable in her too, and his heart clenched. He liked sexy, but vulnerable gave him pause.
“I told you to stay down.” His voice was mean, but he didn’t care. And he told himself he didn’t care either when he saw the crushed look on her face.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a good shot and I can take care of myself. I’m not some little girly girl who needs your—or anyone’s—protection.”
“Goddammit, Nina!” he cursed, but after that, he was at a loss for words. She was right. She was capable and strong, but he hated seeing her in danger.
Even worse, it hit him that there was more here than just the two of them crossing the country together. There was more to what he was feeling. And that would make sex with her a mistake, a huge one. It wouldn’t end well—it never did with him—and there wasn’t anywhere for either of them to escape, not until they reached her grandmother’s house at least. Not to mention the fact that everyone he’d ever cared about, and everyone he’d ever tried to protect, had died. His parents. His best friend. His sister. His niece.
“You should get some sleep,” he said, his voice even. He nodded toward the bedroom.
For several seconds Nina just stood there, almost naked, her hands at her sides, one still holding her revolver. It was too dark to make out the expression on her face, but that was a good thing. He didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to know. He was being an asshole, but he didn’t care. There was no choice.
Finally, without a word, she turned, the dark hallway swallowing her up. The bedroom door shut with a quiet click. It would have been better somehow if she’d slammed it, because then he could try to justify his anger. Instead all he felt was empty.
* * *
Creed couldn’t sleep. The world was silent around him, the house dark, the only light an orange glow from the embers in the fireplace. Occasionally he’d hear an animal outside, an owl or, once, a high-pitched screech of something being injured or killed. He knew he needed rest—there was no way he’d be good to drive hundreds of miles the next day without some sleep.
But he was wound up, anxious and angry. Pissed at himself for letting things go too far with Nina. Pissed for not letting them go further. He should never have crossed that line between friendship and something more. Hell, even friendship with her was too much involvement. His original plan to get her to her family and then head out on his own was the best plan. The only plan.
Still, he felt conflicted. Angry that he’d hurt her. That he’d been a dick.
“Fuck,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair. What was Nina doing? Was she sleeping? Or was she, too, lying awake wondering what had just happened, wondering how he’d gone from kissing her to being a complete and total asshole?
He got up, shone his flashlight down the hallway. Waking her up would be a shitty thing to do, but he needed to apologize and he didn’t want to wait for morning. That’s all he would do. Wake her up, say he was sorry, admit he was an asshole, and leave. Then he could get some sleep.
Outside her room he hesitated, one hand on the doorknob. He was being a pussy. Man the fuck up, he thought. Just go in there.
Instead he headed back to the couch to toss and turn till morning.
CHAPTER SEVEN
–Nina–
Sunlight streamed through the worn-thin white curtains on the bedroom window, and Nina stretched and yawned. Thank god they could leave today. Being on the motorcycle meant she and Creed didn’t have to talk, which was the last thing she wanted to do with him. Humiliation tinged the anger she felt about what had happened the previous night.
After pulling on her clothes, she headed to the kitchen. The back door was open, and he was on the porch drinking coffee from a steaming mug. He was leaning back against the porch rail, one denim-clad leg crossed casually over the other, as he stared into the distance.
Taking a deep breath, she headed outside.
“Morning,” said Creed, gesturing at the camping pot of coffee and an extra mug he’d set on the porch railing. He didn’t even look at her.
“Morning.” Nina poured herself a cup of the thick coffee and held it, warming her hands. “So. You ready to get out of here?”
In response, Creed gestured at the sky behind them, and Nina’s heart sank when she saw dark clouds looming, a contrast to the sun in front of them.
“Dammit,” she hissed. She didn’t want to wait here any longer. She needed to know what had happened to her family, and sitting around a house with Creed and his weird moods wasn’t helping. “I think we should go anyway. Get as far as we can and then find a place to
stay if the weather gets bad.”
Creed looked at her for a long time, and she hated that she had to wait for him to agree, that she was dependent on him. If only she’d learned how to ride a motorcycle and had one of her own; then she could take off whenever she wanted. For a second she imagined doing just that, imagined the freedom she’d feel as the wind blew her hair back and she embraced the adventure.
She was surprised, though, to feel a leaden sadness too as she pictured leaving Creed behind and never seeing him again. Not good, she thought. This isn’t what I’m supposed to be feeling. I can’t trust him. I can’t trust anyone. And he’s an asshole anyway.
“Alright.” He lifted one corner of his mouth in a half-smile. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Really? I seriously didn’t think you’d agree with me. You giving in pretty much calls for a celebration.”
Creed looked at her hard, his brown eyes intense in the morning light. “You act like I’m some sort of uncompromising asshole, sweetheart,” he said, a slight drawl to his voice.
“If the shoe fits…” Nina smiled back at his smirk. Banter with Creed felt normal, unlike the weirdness the night before, when he ran hot as fire then cold as well water in a matter of minutes.
“Well, you’re no ray of sunshine yourself.”
“I don’t think you mind, Creed. I can’t see you with a smiley girl who loves glitter and agrees with everything you say. I think she’d drive you crazy.”
“And you think you don’t drive me crazy?” As soon as he said it he froze for a split second, as though he’d realized another way his words could be interpreted. And as though that’s what he actually meant by them.
“Do I?” asked Nina quietly. “Drive you crazy?” She felt breathless.
“Your smart mouth is infuriating,” said Creed, looking straight at her. “And your sarcasm, sweetheart, drives me up a fucking wall. But you know what really makes me crazy?” he asked, taking one huge stride so his body was up against hers.
Afterglow: An Apocalypse Romance Page 8