by Katie Allen
She gave a faint nod, her stomach churning at the mention of bullets. “Right.”
“Help yourself to food and water. When you go, close the barn doors after you. You need to be gone by morning.”
“Will do.” She gave a dorky half wave as he left. Once the door closed behind him, she looked down at her still-raised hand in disgust.
Now that she didn’t think her life was in immediate danger, she finally glanced around. Dusky sunlight filtered through the few windows set high in the walls. Although the outside appeared to be a regular, dilapidated barn, the inside was more like a bunker.
Instead of hay and a tractor, cases of bottled water and canned food were stacked against the wall. Although it appeared clean and organized, the barn was filled to the rafters with supplies. Only the area where they were parked was clear. From the neatly hung tools hanging on the wall to her left, it looked as though that section was used as a workshop.
“This is the guy to know when the zombie apocalypse hits,” she muttered.
After grabbing a couple bottles of water and a box of protein bars, she hurried back to the car. Even though the barn owner hadn’t shot them, Lauren was still buzzing with nerves and residual adrenaline. As illogical as it was, she felt more secure tucked in the car with Cal’s unconscious body than alone in the shadowy bunker barn. The car also muffled the faint whump-whump-whump sound of the helicopter.
Only realizing how thirsty she was when the water hit her tongue, she drained a bottle quickly and started on the second. It was half gone when she took a break to breathe and force down a nasty-tasting protein bar. She finished the second bottle and got out of the car. After retrieving four more bottles of water, she returned to the car, climbing into the front passenger seat. Dumping the water bottles on the floor in front of her, she lifted Cal’s head and slid beneath it, carefully lowering his head to rest on the uninjured side of her lap.
“Time to wake up, Cal,” she told him, her voice shaky with tears just under the surface. She combed her fingers through his hair and felt the rough texture of scars on his scalp. “C’mon, you lazy bastard. It’s your turn to lead us into crazy and highly dangerous situations. I kept us alive and away from needle-wielding scientists for...well, I don’t have any clue what time it is, but let’s just say a bunch of hours. It’s your turn now.”
He didn’t move, and she took his pulse. She didn’t have a watch, though, so she could only guess that it seemed slow. Although, as erratic as her pulse had been over the past few days, Lauren figured her sense of normal was completely screwed up.
She waited, stroking his hair, as the light around them faded to black. Exhaustion struck her hard now that she was sitting still, and her head bobbed every so often as she dozed off. Each time, she would force herself awake, talking about anything and everything to an unmoving Cal. She didn’t want to risk falling asleep and not waking up until noon the next day. It really was better not to piss off the guy with the gun by outstaying their welcome. It was hard, though. So hard not to sleep. She didn’t think she’d ever been so tired before.
When he finally moved, Lauren jumped and stared at his dark silhouette. She figured it had been a hallucination caused by sleep deprivation until he shifted again, pressing his face against her uninjured leg.
“Cal?” Her voice shook, making her realize how scared she’d been that he’d never wake up. “You with me, babe?”
His head twisted so he was looking up at her, and he let out a raspy groan.
“‘Bout time you woke up,” she said with a shaky laugh. “I need that GPS brain of yours. Who knows where I’ve dumped us—I took so many turns we might be in Canada, for all I know. How’re you feeling?”
“Thirsty.” His voice was rougher than normal. “Head hurts.”
“Well, I don’t have any pain pills on me, but I can help you with the first one.” She reached down and grabbed a water bottle. When she tried to help him sit up, he groaned again and grabbed his head.
“Dizzy. Fuck.” He lowered his head back onto her lap.
“Here,” she offered, cranking the lid off the bottle, strangely relieved to hear him swear. “Just lift your head a little.”
She helped him take a drink. Although he choked a bit, he managed to swallow several mouthfuls before returning his head to her lap. She screwed the bottle lid back on and tucked it against her side.
“Better?”
He just grunted. Lauren couldn’t tell if it was an affirmative or negative grunt.
“I’m so glad you’re awake.” Her fingers found their way into his hair again. “I think the fact that we didn’t get shot—well, except for your dart—or killed or captured today was sheer dumb luck.”
“Wha’ happened?” He sounded drunk, which freaked her out. Cal was always in total control—well, except for when they were both naked.
She tried, somewhat successfully, to erase the quiver in her voice. “Let’s see...you went unconscious at probably the worst possible time, so I climbed over you, did some kick-ass escape driving, got us thoroughly lost, had a conversation with the business end of a shotgun and ended up hiding from a helicopter in the Unabomber’s cousin’s barn bunker.”
His grunt sounded a little bewildered.
“But, as I said earlier, we’re not bullet-ridden, dead, or being dragged back to an underground lab, so things could be worse. More water?”
After a long pause, she felt him give a short nod. She helped him take another few sips before he returned his head to her lap once more. He lifted a hand, as if to touch her face, but his fingers hovered in the air a good six inches in front of her. She tugged his hand toward her.
“Vision a little screwy?” she asked as he stroked her cheek.
“Yeah.” He sighed and let his hand drop. “You’re so fucking pretty.”
She snorted. “Doesn’t really work as a compliment after you just admitted you can’t see straight.”
“I mean it,” he said earnestly. He wasn’t slurring his words as much anymore, but he still wasn’t sounding like normal, cranky Cal.
“Okay.”
“No, I mean it, mean it.” He tried to sit up again but allowed her to push him back down. “You’re beautiful and hot and sexy.”
She bit her lip to hold back a smile. She liked drunk Cal.
“AND!” His shout made her jump. “And you’re pretty. And you smell nice, and you’re smart, and you don’t lose your shit in emergencies. You did good, keeping us safe while I was knocked out. Good, good Lauren...”
He reached up again, managing to touch her face on his own this time. She kind of wished he hadn’t when he patted her awkwardly, squashing her nose with his palm. She caught his hand to pry it off her face.
“Okay, drunkie,” she said, sounding nasally with her nose pressed flat. “Why don’t we wait on the physical stuff until your hand-eye coordination improves?”
He allowed her to lower his hand. She kept it in hers for safety reasons.
“I’m a selfish bastard, but I’m glad you’re here.” He turned his face into her stomach. “I kept telling Darwin that he was stupid, but now I’m the dickhead. You’re always in danger with me. I fucking hate that. I don’t hate that you’re with me though. I’m really, really glad you’re here, pretty Lauren.”
Blinking away tears, she pulled his hand to her lips so she could brush a kiss across his knuckles. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”
“Don’t kiss my hand,” he said, lifting his head toward her. “Kiss my mouth. Use tongue.”
“Even loopy, you’re bossy.” She was tempted to give him a real kiss, but it felt too much like she was taking advantage, as if she’d roofied him or something so she could use him for sex.
She opened her mouth to turn him down but, before she could get a word out, he sat up abruptly, startling her into si
lence.
“Whoa,” he said, swaying a little. “Head rush.”
She laughed and then choked when he shifted over into the passenger seat, crowding her. His hands grasped her hips, twisting and lifting her onto his lap in one quick motion. With a squeak of surprise, she grabbed his shoulders, adjusting to her new position straddling his thighs, her knees pressed into the seat. His face was close enough for her to see his grin, even in the dim light.
“Guess you’re feeling better,” she said once she’d caught her breath.
“You were too slow.” He brought his face even closer to hers, until she could feel the puff of air from each word on her lips. “It’d be morning before we kissed if I’d left it up to you.”
She intended to explain her hesitation, but his lips covered hers before any words could escape. Immediately she fell into the kiss, as if she were the one who’d been drugged. He was her weakness, and any misgivings she’d had about doing the drunk guy were lost in the feel of his mouth.
He pulled away, and she moaned, trying to follow. “Now I feel better,” he said before diving in again. His coordination must have improved over the last few minutes, as his bossy kisses felt the same as those he’d given her before he’d been darted. He bit at her lips, just hard enough to make her wet, and took over her mouth with his.
“Wait,” she gasped as his lips left hers, making a line of nibbling kisses toward her jaw. “What if Mr. Doomsday Prepper has cameras or something?”
“It’s dark.”
“Maybe they’re—” she gasped as he bit gently on her earlobe “—night-vision cameras.”
“So we’ll give him a show,” he mumbled against the skin of her neck.
“Okay.” In some part of her brain, Lauren knew that wasn’t a satisfactory answer, but her hormones had taken control.
He managed to get her coat, shirt and bra off before she knew what was happening. Once the cold air hit her skin, she had a half second of sanity before his mouth closed around her nipple and she was lost again. Arching into his touch, she sucked in a breath as he bit lightly and tugged.
“Bite harder,” she demanded, and he did.
She ground her hips against his, but it wasn’t enough. The two layers of denim separating them were endlessly frustrating, and she mewled her complaint. Still sucking and biting her nipples, he grabbed the waistband of her jeans and started to pull.
“No,” she managed to say when she heard stitches start to pop. “They’re my only jeans.”
Although he gave a growl, he quit trying to rip her pants apart and opened the button and zipper instead. He tilted her back until her head rested on the dash and worked her jeans and panties off her hips. As she grabbed for the edge of the seat, trying to keep her balance, he tugged both of her ankles toward his shoulders.
Ignoring her squeal of protest at her awkward, folded position, Cal yanked off her boots and tossed them. She heard the two thuds as they landed somewhere in the back seat. Her jeans and panties were next, skimmed off her legs and over her feet before she could blink.
Feeling vulnerable in her tilted position, with her knees opened and her pussy exposed, she tried to pull herself up and bring her legs down and together. He stopped her easily with one hand on her belly and the other between her thighs. One of his thick fingers pushed into her, sliding easily through her wetness as his thumb found her clit. He added another finger, shoving them deep inside her pussy, as his thumb pressed her small bundle of nerves in insanity-inducing circles.
Just as she felt her orgasm start to build, he pulled her upright, tucking her legs against the seat so she was in her original straddling position. With a shiver, she registered the fact that she was totally naked, while Calvin was still completely clothed.
“You’re still wearing your coat,” she said, not sure if it was a protest or just a statement of fact. There was something oddly exciting about being naked while he remained dressed. She didn’t have time to analyze it too closely, however, since he was unfastening his own jeans and shoving them and his underwear down just far enough to free his erection.
She reached for it, but he was faster, lifting her and lowering her onto his hard cock. Her shudder this time wasn’t from cold. She felt so full, stretched to the point of pleasurable pain.
“Jesus,” Cal rasped, echoing her thoughts. “You feel so good...so fucking good.”
She could only moan her agreement as he started to move, his hands tight on her hips. Lifting her almost completely off his cock, Cal brought her down again as he thrust upward. He drove deeply into her, the head of his erection pounding the back of her channel, bringing that crazy-delicious pain she craved from Cal.
Each time he pulled her down onto his cock, her clit ground against him, adding to the sensations building in her belly. The pleasure built, a wonderful pressure growing with each thrust until he yanked her down hard, shifting one of his hands so his thumb could reach her clit. His head dropped, and his mouth found her nipple, his teeth pinching it hard. She came apart, groaning his name as everything disappeared except the cock inside her and the mouth on her breast.
His thrusts grew faster, harder. The slide of his erection against her slick, gripping walls drew out her orgasm, until she felt as though she’d been coming for hours. Her muscles went limp and she collapsed against his chest, her forehead resting on his shoulder as she panted for breath.
When he lifted her off his still-erect cock, she only had enough energy to give a whimper of protest. Her hand closed around his length, and his bareness registered in her foggy brain. Their lack of protection hadn’t even occurred to her until now—and she was the non-drugged one! At least Cal’s grogginess had worn off enough for him to not come inside her.
She slithered off his lap until her knees were on the floor mat. Keeping her hand wrapped around the base, she lowered her head to the tip of his cock. Without any teasing, she swallowed him to the back of her throat in one motion, making Cal jerk his hips and moan. His involuntary forward thrust pushed the head into her throat, and she gagged around him.
“Holy shit, Lauren,” he groaned, both of his hands cupping the sides of her head. He took control of the blow job, holding her head still and driving his erection into her mouth. She focused on relaxing her throat and allowing him to push deeper with each thrust, until he pushed in a final time and shuddered as he shot down her throat.
After a few moments, he withdrew from her mouth, and she reluctantly let him go. He lifted her off the floor and sat her sideways on his lap, his big arms cuddling her close to his chest. Her eyelids drifted closed right before a full-body shiver raised goose bumps on her naked skin.
“Here,” he muttered, wrapping her coat around her top half.
“No, Cal.” She resisted the urge to snuggle into his warmth and close her eyes again. “We can’t fall asleep. If I do, I won’t wake up until noon tomorrow—today, whenever. The guy with the gun said we have to be out of here by morning, and I’m thinking he meant dawn-morning, not sleep-in-for-a-while morning.”
“I’ll drive, then. You can sleep.” He moved over to the driver’s seat, shifting her off his lap and onto the passenger side.
“You can’t drive!” she protested. “You were seeing two of me just a short while ago.”
“I’m okay now.” He reached for the key in the ignition and then changed his mind, climbing out of the car instead. Lauren blinked against the sudden brightness of the dome light that flashed on when the car door opened.
“Seriously, Cal, you need to sleep it off. You were unconscious for hours. Long, scary hours.”
He didn’t even turn around to acknowledge her words. Instead, he disappeared into the dark shadows at the far end of the barn.
“And we’re back to the horror movie,” she muttered. Another shiver reminded her of her nakedness. She fumbled around for her cloth
es, now grateful for the illumination of the dome light. By the time she’d managed to dress, Cal had emerged from the darkness with a red gas can and was emptying it into the tank.
“There’s a bathroom back there if you need it,” he said.
“Oh, thank you, baby Jesus.” The messages from her bladder had become more and more strident in the hour before Cal woke and...distracted her, but the idea of leaving the barn had freaked her out enough to ignore the pressure. She felt her way through the shadows to a closet-sized bathroom. Once the door closed her inside, she fumbled for a light switch. After she found it and flicked it on, she was relieved to see it was fairly clean, as bunker bathrooms went.
On her way back to the car, she grabbed a case of bottled water and another box of protein bars. From what she could see in the dim light, most of the other food was canned and the type that needed heating. She did grab a box of crackers and a jar of peanuts from the multitudes on the shelf.
As she straightened after stowing the case of water and the food on the floor in front of the passenger seat, she saw Cal was tucking some bills in the gas can handle.
“You have money?” she asked, thinking sadly of her exploded purse.
“Yeah.” He pushed open the main sliding doors and the cold night air rushed inside. “I managed to keep my wallet, even in all the...”
“Car-crashing and swimming and running and being unconscious?”
He nodded as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Good,” she said, sitting down and shutting the car door. “I felt bad not having anything to give to him after he was so nice. Well, the gun-pointing part wasn’t nice, but giving us the water and food and gas and a hiding spot was pretty good of him.” As he started up the car, she watched his dark outline. “Sure you’re okay to drive?”
“Yeah.” The car rolled backward out of the barn. “My metabolism burns shit off pretty quickly.”
She hopped out once the front bumper cleared the opening. She slid the doors closed and returned to the car.