Reawakening

by Stein, Charlotte

  Somewhere in the middle, she started to make noises. And not just pillow noises either. Real, uncaring, breathless moans. Moans that probably sounded gross and guttural, but really, who the fuck cared? Someone was eating some part of her, and her brain hadn’t conjured up a single frightening zombie flashback.

  It was some kind of miracle. He was some kind of miracle. She would have thanked him if her voice hadn’t been stopped by all the moaning that wanted to come out of her. Plus, she was pretty sure he was getting the thankful message, anyway. In between kisses and licks and smushing his face into her pussy, he said things like—oh you like it like that, huh? and that’s it, baby, give it up, give it up.

  Which she felt translated into total awareness of how much she was enjoying herself.

  And if there was even a chance that it wasn’t clear, she tried to make it so by reaching back to squeeze his hand. Just really, really tightly until he had to know how good he was at this, and how close she was to coming, and how he just made everything all right, he did, he did.

  She held on tight and called out his name and God, here it was again. That twisting, cresting sensation that made her thighs tremble—only this time they fucking spasmed. They went crazy, and her body went crazy and though it occurred to her for the first time right then that Blake was just downstairs, and if he hadn’t heard things before he sure was going to hear them now, she couldn’t stop herself shouting.

  Not even when Jamie suddenly backed away. In fact, his doing so only made her shout louder. Seriously, seriously, did he really think she was going to take him teasing her, again? No fucking way. No, Jesus, she had to get it this time. Her whole body throbbed with delayed pleasure. She felt so close to orgasm, one wrong move would have put her over. She wasn’t even sure she could turn without triggering it, and do what she had planned—order him to finish the job or never get that epic blowjob she was already mapping out in her head.

  But then Blake spoke, and she found she could manage turning without having an orgasm quite effectively. Though that feeling of being unselfconscious in her nakedness? Yeah. That kind of fell by the wayside.

  Chapter Nine

  Part of her expected him to look mad. Or maybe disappointed. How did people usually look when they realized they’d accidentally fallen into a threesome? Kind of turned on? He looked kind of turned on.

  Then he said, “You’re not going to stop just as it’s getting good, are you?” which kind of sealed the deal. That’s what they were going with. Turned on. Maybe. Usually she would have gone with shame of some type but it was really hard to when most of her higher thought processes had fled to that aching space between her legs.

  She wondered, instead, if he could see it—just how aroused she was. Though most of her knew how hard it must have been to miss. She could feel her own wetness on her thighs, for God’s sake. Her nipples felt tiny and tight, and they looked tiny and tight. A giant flush seemed to have spread from her throat all the way down to her stomach.

  And Jamie looked no better. He was casual about it—of course he was—but he couldn’t make his arousal seem laidback. There were muscles in his jaw, ticking and ticking. Even when he tried to sprawl back on the bed and make some sort of greeting gesture at Blake, he looked like something crouching, ready to pounce.

  She would have pegged him as the horniest man in the room if Blake hadn’t seemed in just as bad a state. There was some carelessness in his question, some this is all cool with me relaxedness, but she could make out the tension in his stance and the hot, ever so slightly unsure gleam in his eyes.

  If she told him to go, she knew he would. He was waiting for it, she was certain. She had to let him know, even if it was only with the two clumsiest words in the English language.

  “It’s okay.”

  The room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Some of that humming, bizarre sort of tension remained but it felt better. Lighter. And when he closed the door and put his back to it, a sharp spike of arousal went through her—instead of anything fearful or awkward.

  And when Jamie said, “You wanna come on over here and finish her off for me?” that spike drilled in harder, much harder. It took out things as it went—things like bad memories and strung out survival and death, lots of death.

  “That what you want, June?” Blake asked, though he was walking toward the bed as he said it. She could see him toying with the hem of his jersey, as though he wanted to get a head start on taking it off right before she gave the okay.

  “Yeah,” she said, while Jamie ran a hand up over her thigh. Not even on the outside part, either. On the inside, where everything was wet and crazily sensitive.

  “Come on, and make her feel good,” Jamie said. She tried to make out his expression as he did so but it was impossible. He just looked feral and horny as fuck, and it made her wonder if both things overrode any concerns he had.

  Or if he just didn’t have them at all. Maybe he was simply a generous person. Maybe they both were. Maybe they liked to share—hell, could be they didn’t even think about it like that at all. It was just a joint effort—like building a well or working on a class project. While Jamie kissed her belly and let his hands wander almost to the pouting lips of her sex, Blake gave her a little strip show.

  It was the best class project she’d ever been witness to. Blake didn’t even stop at halfway either. He went the whole nine yards and removed his trousers and the things underneath his trousers, too.

  And boy, was he ever naked beneath those layers. He looked so naked that she couldn’t stop staring for a whole, long minute, at all the bumps on his body and the coarse scratch of hair that went down, down, to the completely nude place between his legs.

  Where there were other things, besides.

  He was hard—of course, he was. He’d have to have been a eunuch to not be, and even then it would have been a close call. But it was just the look of the thing, all thick and swollen and…well…masculine. Very, very masculine.

  It had heft. When he moved onto the bed, it bobbed low as though its immense weight was dragging it down. And though she knew that such an idea was just her fevered imagination working overtime, she couldn’t quite pull her eyes away from it either.

  He was so hairy down there. And his cock, by comparison, seemed so smooth and pale and kind of knotted with veins. Plus it was slick at the tip, which made her mouth water before she’d even had a chance to consider how weird that probably was. Needing to suck cock that badly—that was weird, right?

  She tried to remember what they tasted like. Sort of salty…and maybe a little—

  “Hey June? My face is up here.”

  Yeah, Blake was definitely getting his sarcasm gene back. He was grinning when she worked up the courage to meet his gaze and Jamie—well. He just cracked out laughing right off, even in the middle of all the kissing of her throat he was doing.

  “You gonna stare at me like that, hon?” he asked, while she tried to force her face back to a normal color. “Guess I better take the rest off, then, huh?”

  Half of her thought no. No, I can’t take anymore! The other half lit up like the Fourth of July. They were all going to be naked, and she’d have two sets of man parts to look at, and that sounded good until Jamie actually started stripping the rest of his clothes off, after which it was just…overwhelming.

  She found herself not actually wanting to look at him. Blake had started stroking above her knee and said knees were really far apart, and he was still kind of grinning from his little crack but some of it had fallen away. He was gazing at her now. Between her legs, at that soft, wet place.

  But even so, the idea of Jamie being naked was worse. If he was naked, then she’d have to take him all in and probably embarrass herself over his body, too, and the thought was making her all prickly and sweaty. She wanted to shift away from them both on the bed but if she did would they take that as a bad sign? Would they stop?

  She couldn’t bear it if they stopped. Not even when Jamie tossed
his pants away and sort of slid back down to lie next to her, and she got a glimpse of everything he had to offer.

  He was bigger than Blake. Much bigger. Scarily bigger. She’d kind of suspected it because of that heavy feel of him rubbing against her thigh, but it was a little thrilling shock, none-the-less. Like learning a dirty secret about somebody that you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

  All this time with the Hawaiian shirts and the dancing and his silliness, and he was going around with that between his legs. Really, it was no wonder he’d kept his pants on for this long. If she’d turned over in bed and encountered that thing in his boxer shorts, she wasn’t sure what she would have done.

  Had dreams about giant mutant cocks chasing her, probably.

  “You know, you can change your mind,” Blake said, and she wondered if he’d just overheard all of those mutant cock thoughts. If he knew what she was considering—how immense Jamie’s fingers had felt. Never mind anything else.

  It had been a long time. A long, long time.

  But then Jamie said, “I bet she’s just thrilled that you’re keeping her waiting there, buddy.” And her mind went to the other issue with long, long times—how much it made things agonizing when two hot guys spent forever withholding.

  “Yeah—isn’t this supposed to be like good cop, bad cop? He’s the tease, you’re the opposite? He holds back, you give it to me?”

  She felt Jamie’s teeth against her shoulder, briefly, when he opened his mouth to crack out a laugh. It wasn’t scary, however. Nothing was scary.

  “Oh, I’m just crazy about you, June-bug.”

  Apart from maybe that.

  Was it weird to kiss Blake after Jamie had said something like that? It didn’t seem as weird as it had in the storeroom but that didn’t take the feeling away completely. For a start, she could still sense Jamie at her shoulder.

  More than sense, in fact. His teeth dug in again—light and non-threatening but obvious just the same. And when she closed her eyes, she felt his hand slide over all the places Blake hadn’t covered with his frankly overwhelming body.

  It was a lot of places. Blake didn’t exactly cover, after all. It was much more like hovering, with one of his arms poled to the left of her. And it gave Jamie lots of room to stroke over things and brush other things that made her jolt and need to open her eyes again.

  Part of her had almost forgotten how on edge she was. But him touching her nipples—yeah, that brought her right back. They were so sensitive it almost felt like a kind of soreness, and it made her grateful that Blake hadn’t pressed his whole body against hers.

  It would only have precipitated an overload. He had his tongue in her mouth and Jamie had a hand on her boob and that was precipitating an overload. Her body wanted to rut up against him and her hands wanted to do something other than float somewhere around his waist, but she found both actions next to impossible.

  He tasted like vanilla and she couldn’t think why. But then she remembered the pudding Jamie had tried to make—the one that sort of resembled ice-cream but was really more of a mousse. He’d done it for her, because she’d asked if they had any. She’d told him she had dreams about it.

  She wondered why she’d never told them she had dreams about this, too.

  “That all you’re gonna do? Kiss her? Gotta tell you, bud. Girls don’t get off that way.”

  Probably because the dreams already matched up with reality so perfectly, she wasn’t even sure if she was actually awake. She’d fallen asleep by the fireside, back to back with Kelsey. Something had made a noise—something horrible. And now she was going to wake up for real.

  “Okay, okay,” Blake said, as he pulled away. “Just gimme a second. I think I’ve forgotten what you’re supposed to do.”

  She wasn’t so sure about that. And especially not when his erection rubbed briefly against someplace sensitive that she couldn’t quite identify, like that neat groove between her thigh and her pussy. Hard to tell, really, when someone else was pulling and tugging at her nipple.

  She tried to say to him—don’t, don’t. Touch something less sensitized. But really, it felt too good to do anything like that. It was revving her all the way up in the same way everything else he’d done had. Soon, she’d be willing to do just about anything.

  Did they want to maybe fuck her at the same time? Yeah, that was cool. No problems.

  “Here’s a clue,” Jamie said, and he was half-laughing in just the same way Blake was. Like they did when they teased each other about basketball skills and the like—only now, here, it seemed about five hundred percent more like foreplay. “You have to be a whole lot lower down the bed than you are now.”

  Then he put his hands on Blake’s shoulders and pushed at them, until Blake rolled his eyes and told him, “Yeah yeah yeah—okay. I got it, maestro.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah—it’s like this, right?” Blake said, just as his mouth found the upsweep of her left breast. Then the place just beneath it. Then the swell of her stomach, and the dip of her navel.

  His stubble grated against each place, overriding the hot wet sense of his mouth. It was like a match, striking against her skin. It was like something too good and too hot and when she squirmed and tried to get away, Jamie did something even hotter than all of the kissing and touching.

  He pulled her against him until her head rested back on his shoulder and his arm went beneath her neck, like the kind of thing you did after sex with the guy you’d just fucked. Only she hadn’t just fucked him. She was about to fuck some other guy, instead.

  So why didn’t it feel like some sort of jerky possessive thing when he did it? When he pulled her onto him and held her close and let his hand trail through her hair, as though he wanted more than anything to soothe her.

  The answer’s right there, she thought. Right there in the word soothe.

  But then Blake’s mouth was between her legs, and she couldn’t think about words and what they meant. She couldn’t even really think about how hard Jamie’s body felt beneath hers and how good it felt to have someone do something as simple as card a hand through her hair.

  Everything wanted to concentrate on Blake’s mouth instead, and how boiling hot it felt even though she was sure her sex had reached some kind of critical heat mass a long time ago. And, of course, there was the fact that he didn’t do it like Jamie. Which should have only been exciting because of the different sensations it provoked, or how it felt when someone lapped instead of licked and so on and so forth.

  But it was exciting because it ground into her that this was a different man going down on her. She’d barely slept with one dude on his own prior to the apocalypse. Here she was, getting it from two guys and oh, they were so different.

  Blake was less greedy. More deliberate—like he wanted to think about it a little before he went for it. He didn’t rub his tongue all rough against her clit and refuse to let up when she went nuts. He made searing circles around that swollen bud in a way that reminded her of how Jamie had started out.

  With teasing, with all of that agonizing teasing.

  Though with Blake, it wasn’t intentional—or at least, she didn’t think so. He was just more careful, more restrained, and he didn’t up his game until she could feel herself buckling. Until she had to dig her heels into the mattress and her body made a bunch of little jerking spasms and it felt good, oh so good to get a handful of the bed sheets.

  This time, pleasure didn’t pulse through her. It charged. It careened around inside her and crashed against things. She became vaguely aware that she was making some real big, weird sounds but couldn’t do anything about them. Jamie had a hand all tight and almost pulling in her hair, now, and he was telling Blake things, dirty things like why are you holding back? Eat that sweet pussy. Go on, go on. Make her come on your face. She just couldn’t do anything about the sounds.

  They got louder, too, when he dug his fingers into her thigh, quite suddenly. When she just had to open her eyes a
nd all she could see was his tongue working in the folds of her sex and Jamie’s body stretched out beside her, all long and lean and, God almighty, he had a big cock.

  Jesus, when was he going to fuck her with that big cock? Right now? Right fucking now? Because her pussy felt so ready and slick and just waiting for something to fill it up that it was almost a physical pain. An empty ache, desperately pulsing at her core.

  “You gonna come, baby?” he said, but she could hardly tell enough to answer him. Every sensation in her body felt jumbled up and tied down, and she just wasn’t sure if anything like an orgasm could break through.

  It had been so easy before, when he’d rubbed between her legs, but this wasn’t easy. It was too big and too much and when Blake slid two fingers into her, sudden and rough and like he’d lost just a bit of his control, she found herself arching up off the bed. Biting into her lip until it went bloody.

  Pleasure welled up inside her, threatening all kinds of things as it went. It was going to kill her when it finally came, and all the little fake outs and the stuttering bursts of sensation only made that idea more real. She couldn’t take it. She had to tell them to stop before she got lost in bliss and never found her way back out again.

  And finally it did come and oh, it was sweet. It burst through her, hot and steady—a good, relief-filled wash of pleasure all the way up from her jumping clit to the roots of her hair. She put her heel hard against something that was not the bed—more than probably Blake’s thigh, instead—and tried to bury herself in Jamie’s body and likely said something really embarrassing and obvious like you’re making me come, you’re making me come.