by SP Durnin
"Well, that was plain enough," she said, wryly. "Even she might get the hint from that one."
Jake's head snapped around. His eyes widened for a moment, then took on a wary look. He remained facing away from her and made it a point to think pure thoughts. "Laurel? You, uh… you know you're in the wrong shower, right?"
"I thought you might need a bodyguard after a certain bimbo's tirade downstairs. Besides, we should talk." She tossed the towel intentionally to his left, causing him turn as he snagged it out of the air involuntarily. This gave her an unobstructed view while he struggled to unfold the towel and cover himself. He looked good. The sight made her mouth go dry. She swallowed and yanked her gaze back to his face while he wrapped the towel around his hips.
Here it comes, he thought, this is where the "let's just be friends" conversation happens.
It's your own damn fault, his back-brain told him. If you'd listened to me, you'd have had her already. But no-o-o-o-o…
He tried to ignore his sinking stomach and shut off the water. There were four, eight thousand gallon tanks on the roof, fed by larger ones at the top of the apartments next door, so they had plenty for months to come. He wasn't going to be able to finish washing now, however. Not with her standing there, leaning against the shower entrance, hair tossed over one shoulder, shirt sticking to her body from the steam…
Pure thoughts, pure thoughts. He chanted silently. Don't turn your towel into a pup tent. Think pure thoughts. Puppies… flowers… baseball…
"Alright… What about?"
Laurel was having a hard time staying composed herself. Jake's body was still covered with water and she had an almost undeniable urge find out what the moisture on his chest tasted like. She brought her thoughts back in order and said, "Us."
Jake glanced away. "I, uh…I wasn't sure you wanted there to be an us. Not with everything that's happened. Zombies rising and all. Then Nichole…"
"I don't want to talk about her," she said shortly. "For the life of me, I can't figure out why you haven't just told her to piss off and die."
He was shocked to hear her put it that way.
Laurel went on. "That woman is a user, Jake. Everything is all about her and to hell what other people want."
He frowned slightly. "I thought you didn't want to talk about her."
"I don't!" Anger flushed her cheeks and caused Jake to chant his mantra a bit quicker. "She's not going to let up, you know. She's determined to screw up your head. Or screw you."
"How do you think I feel?" He put his hands on his hips, causing his pectorals to ripple. Laurel felt a rush of heat on her face and tried to remember why she'd started this line of discussion. "I have to take her abuse or this place is going to turn into a battlefield that would put Housewives of…wherever to shame! She harasses me every moment; she follows me around. I had to throw her out of here when she tried to reenact a scene from a bad porno!"
"Which wouldn't be an issue, if you'd just tell her you're not interested!" she quipped.
Jake stared at her in disbelief. "I threw her out of the room, Laurel! How much more clear could I possibly be? She's not right in the head! She thinks every male on earth just has to have her, no matter how twisted up she is! What the hell else can I do?"
They were close now, snapping at each other almost nose-to-nose.
She was getting upset. "Then why don't you give her what she wants and get it over with?"
He stood there, jaw hanging open. "What?"
"Sure!" she said, arms waving. "Why don't you just screw her? That way she'll leave you alone! You won't have to take her crap anymo…"
"Because, I can't fucking stand her!" Jake had her by the upper arms before Laurel knew it, keeping her from stepping back from his anger as he all but yelled in her face. "She's sick, self-centered, and enjoys being cruel! She wouldn't know what a moral was if you slapped her across the face with one and said, look, this is a moral!"
He was furious. She would've recoiled, but his grip held her in place. She'd wanted to clear the air, but this was turning into a case of be careful what you wish for.
"She thinks monogamy is a species of tree! She doesn't care about art, music, literature... none of it! I couldn't tell you whether or not she even has as much soul as those fucking things outside! And, oh yeah! Most importantly, she's not you!" he bellowed.
Jake let her go quickly and stepped back, his face a mixture of embarrassment and fear. He had an awful suspicion that he'd just said way too much.
"What?" Laurel asked.
He shook his head and started to walk around her from the shower. "It doesn't matter."
She put her hand out, stiff-arming him in the chest and bringing him to a halt. "What. Did you. Just say?" Laurel asked, prodding him with her index finger in the solar plexus with each word, until his back bumped against the wall of the shower.
"Well?" Laurel demanded as he turned his face away. She put her weight against him, her hand, letting Jake know he was either going to come clean right then, or there was going to be a fight.
When he looked back at her, his eyes were deep enough to drown in.
"I said, she's not you." He pushed off the wall despite the pressure of her palm, causing her to take a step back.
Jake's words sent a thrill through her. Laurel was suddenly short of breath as his voice started something reverberating, just over the small of her back. "Her mind doesn't make me want to know it better than I know my own. The way her body moves doesn't keep me awake at night in this human-sized hamster cage, half-crazy to have it next to me. Her voice doesn't make me burn…" He clenched his teeth.
She was right there, inches away...
"You should go. It's been a really bad day. My hands are killing me. We watched I don't even know how many zombies walk by this place. I'm pretty stressed out right now and I'm feeling just a little bit like ripping your clothes off, so… you should go."
Instead, Laurel kissed him.
Jake's hands moved to hold her against his chest. They never paused, as if he was trying to imprint the feel of her skin into his fingertips, so he'd never know the texture of anything else. He matched the passion of her kiss, crushing his lips to hers.
She sighed into his mouth as his hands moved her shirt up from behind and whipped it over her head, forcing Laurel to break the kiss. Then taking her by the waist he spun her around and ran his hands up her arms. She raised them back around his neck, pulling him towards her and rubbed her cheek against the roughness of his chin.
Face close, he nipped at her jaw, hands slowly moving down her ribs, tracing the silken waistband of her shorts and the muscles in her stomach, before moving up slowly to cup her breasts.
Laurel dropped one arm down and ran her short nails along the edge of his hip, just under the towel. He drew a quick breath as she flicked the half-knot loose, so it was held in place only by their tightly pressed bodies.
Jake turned her quickly back to face him and ran his lips under her jaw. He moved down her neck, her collarbone, finally to her breast, one hand pressing into her spine, the other cradling her head. Laurel's world spun. He moved from one to the other, applying his teeth gently. Head thrown back, she gripped his hair, all the while making soft noises in the back of her throat that brought something very much like a growl from the writer. He sought her lips again, and Laurel ran her hand down the front of his thigh. Jake managed to pull his thoughts back together briefly and pushed her gently then, when she refused to be moved, more firmly, away.
Her body was humming with tension and Laurel had to make an effort to focus her eyes. "What's wrong?"
"We, ah…we should get some protection." Jake had to force the words out.
Laurel nuzzled his chin, smiling. "You really are a gentleman at heart, aren't you? Most men wouldn't even bring it up."
He'd locked his eyes on hers to keep from watching the rise and fall of her breasts as she spoke. It required every bit of his will. His back-brain was howling at him to shut the
hell up. "Yeah, but really…"
She put her hand over his lips. "Don't worry. A benefit of having a promiscuous, pharmacy tech for a roommate is you get birth control at employee prices. I had the injection eleven months ago. Just over three years left."
He still looked worried. "Laurel, are you sure…"
She grabbed him by his hair again and grated her next words into his face, rubbing herself against his chest. "Oh gods, Jake, will you shut up? We've been together every day for a month now; we're not hopping into bed on the first date. I know I'm not reacting to my hormones and you're not just looking for a quickie. This isn't going to be remotely casual for either one of us. It'll change things. Now, here I am, half naked, wanting you so badly I can't stand it and…"
She forgot the rest of what she was going to say when he kissed her again. He held her like a drowning man grips a life preserver. Laurel closed her eyes and felt as if gravity had lost its hold on her body for a moment.
His towel had fallen to the floor, forgotten. They were separated now only by the thin pair of silk shorts.
Without a word he gripped them by both sides of the waistband, smoothly ripped the interfering silk in half, and tossed the pieces across the shower.
Jake all but threw the two of them against the tile wall and her breath quickened. She tried to devour his mouth with hers as she pulled at him. Her legs came up and Laurel curled her calves around his waist, forcing him to draw a hissing breath. He watched her face as they finally came together. She cried out and bit her lip, then the two of them fell into a slow rhythm. They moved against each other languidly, achingly, attempting to forget the hell outside their refuge.
It wasn't long before they were both panting and frenzied. Laurel's movements became short and jerky. Her eyes screwed shut and she bit Jake's shoulder where the meat of his neck met his collarbone. Her teeth left marks there and she shook violently. He simply pulled her against his chest and hoped his ribs would hold out. He could feel them creaking as her legs squeezed him, but continued to hold her while her shudders gradually lessened. Then he realized she was crying.
"Laurel? Did I hurt you? Why didn't you say something?" He began to pull slowly back, nearly out of his mind with worry.
Her face came up, eyes out of focus as she held him stationary. "You didn't… hurt me."
"Then why are you crying?"
She panted against his lips. "Because that was wonderful… and I'm happy… you sweet... bumbling idiot... Did you think… the last month was only difficult for you? I've wanted this since… you showed up, on the day of the outbreak. But we didn't really know each other."
She dropped one foot to the floor, keeping her other leg wrapped firmly around his waist. The movement caused such a rush of pleasure that Laurel caught her breath. "I wanted you. All of you. That means more than just your body. Though I'll admit, that's a bonus." She gently bit his pectoral.
He kissed her again, sending a rush of heat up her spine. Jake's breath caught in his throat at the look on her face and his hands slid up her back.
"So?" she said, from behind low lashes.
"The night is young," he replied.
Her lop-sided smile came to life.
"Tell you what," she said, pushing him back, eyes hot. "Why don't you finish cleaning up, then come meet me in my room? We'll see if practice really does make perfect."
"Screw that." Jake scooped her up and strode from the shower. The hallway was empty and he opened her door by feel, because what she was doing to his neck with her lips was distracting as all hell.
* * *
Laurel woke slowly.
The first thing she noticed was that she wasn't alone, and the other person in the bed holding her was emphatically male. She could tell because her leg lay over his hip and groin.
Jake. She smiled.
She lay half-across him, cheek resting on his shoulder as he held her nestled against his side. She brushed her hand across the tightness of his chest and pressed her face to it. He smelled like cedar.
How is that? She wrapped her free arm over his ribs and snuggling closer. He never used anything but deodorant, and no cologne she knew of smelled that way.
As she lifted herself on one elbow, the second thing she noticed was how sore her body was. Her entire body. Every muscle was stiff and protested the smallest of movements.
Kat's right. Nocturnal gymnastics. Next time—tonight, hopefully—she'd stretch beforehand.
Laurel stroked her hand slowly around his face and Jake stirred in his sleep. She leaned down, pressing their lips together as he came awake and opened his eyes.
She smiled, "Good morning."
He brushed the stray lock of hair out of her eyes, answering with a smile of his own.
"I was afraid it was a dream." His face fell. "I'm not dreaming now, am I?"
She lowered herself to his chest and kissed him again.
"Nope," Laurel said, "definitely not a dream."
She cupped his jaw with her hand, then shivered as his own moved across the small of her back. "I don't think my aching body can take much of that this morning, O'Connor. If you don't stop, I'm going to kick your butt."
"You'll kick my butt?" Jake fought a grin.
"Hey, I lived with Kat the Ninja, remember? I kick butt." She sat up, swiveling her legs over the edge of the bed. Laurel raised her arms over her head and stretched, working the kinks out as Jake moved up behind her. He pushed her hair to one side and ran his palm from her neck diagonally down one shoulder blade. She put her hands on the bed and leaned her head forward, eyes closed, enjoying the moment.
Jake's palm remained at her waist as he kissed her low over her spine. Laurel's back arched as she inhaled sharply, but she didn't pull away. He sat up, looking over her shoulder, watching as her lips pursed and she breathed raggedly. She turned her head towards him, with an expression that was half annoyance and half lust, and she raised one eyebrow.
"I'll get you for that, later. Right now, I need to get up, or I'm going to be as stiff as you are." She looked pointedly at the sheet, half covering him. "Meet me downstairs. I'll make coffee."
"Mmm, coffee. You're trying to bewitch me, woman. And it's working." Jake tossed the sheet off and rose. "I should finish the shower I started last night, then I'll be right down."
"Running for the shower?" she joked.
He walked around the bed and took her in his arms. "Want to come along?"
The expression on Jake's face made her knees weak. She blushed furiously as the image of him soaking wet flashed in front of her eyes. He bent slightly, moving his lips along her neck.
Oh lordy. I could turn into a nymphomaniac with this man. Laurel was ready, despite her aching muscles.
"I, uh… I don't think I have your willpower, and you're not going to get any coffee if you keep this up," she said, breathlessly. Their actions last night had left both of them more than a little sore, and the sensation of their bodies moving together walked that fine line between pain and pleasure, about which poets wrote verse. "I'd also be… Oh! Don't do that, you'll set me off again... worthless for the rest of the day. Let's make it a date for later. And you'd better not stand me up."
"I think we covered the standing up part last night, but I'm willing to engage in as many repeat performances as you'd like." He assured her. That earned him a stiff-fingered poke in the ribs and a thin-eyed glare, which competed with her lusty grin.
Jake followed Laurel to the door, stuck his head out into the hall, looked both ways and, still naked, walked calmly towards the shower. She watched him stride out of sight, shut the door, then leaned against it.
"Oh, this is going to complicate things."
* * *
The dead were patient.
They stalked the urban corridors now. Legion upon legion of rotting evil, across every country.
While many remained in the cities, some began to roam farther and farther, seeking prey. The noticeable lack of victims was something that even their d
eteriorated brains recognized.
It was a slow process. One here, a trio there, heading north or south along the I-71 freeway. There was no method to their egress. They were driven only by tireless hunger. The ever-greater need to feed...
Chapter Ten
Laurel entered the kitchen minutes later.
She'd put her hair back in a thick braid, then pulled on her loose, calf length, green pajama pants and one of Foster's supply of tank tops. When she walked into the room, Kat waved over her tea. She grinned back, watching as Maggie filled the blender with dehydrated fruit, powdered milk, and about two cups of water.
"Mornin, Red." Maggie had fallen to using pet names for Laurel and Kat, to their delight. She also didn't complain when Kat dubbed her 'The Chesty Texan.'
"A good morning to you too." Laurel saw Gertrude sitting at the table to Kat's left, sipping her ever present cup of tea, and smiled at her widely. "Morning, Mrs. Jennings. Is there any water hot?"
"A bit." Gertrude gave her a fond look. "You might want to put some more on. George and Allen have been awake for hours, and heavens can they put away the coffee. And I've told you before, dear, call me Gertie. It took me forever to break Jake of that habit too."
Laurel dropped a teabag into a mug and filled it about three-quarters full before the pot went dry. She refilled the teapot and lit the gas on the stove as her mug steeped.
"Imagine Jake acting all stuffy. Like a refugee out of a Victorian romance novel. Shocking." That was given voice by the ball of sunshine sitting at the counter, sipping a Bloody Mary. Nichole was wretched that morning, but that was no surprise. She always was.
A month of nothing but movies, the Internet, and getting blind, stinking polluted, had done nothing to improve the dancer's personality. The fact that there was no escape from her bouts of vindictive pettiness made it worse. Most of the group had taken to long workouts, something she didn't enjoy, to escape her yapping. I get my work out on the dance pole, she insisted, which Laurel supposed was true. Nichole was shapely and would be considered very attractive if not for the fact she had the soul of a snake. Once anyone spent more than a day or two around her, they developed a strong urge to be elsewhere. Like say, China.