She stretched her legs and placed her feet side by side. “You may proceed.”
He took his time, working gradually up the insides of her thighs, then circling around her pelvis. By the time he wiped the moisture off with the dry towel, she’d fallen asleep. He tossed both towels across his laundry basket and climbed in beside her. Outside, the wind-filled snow continued and the wind howled. Icy flakes brushed the windowpane.
Hayden rolled over and tried to concentrate on the curves of Rachelle’s shoulders and the sexy slope of her neck. He set his hand on her throat and felt the light, steady beat of her pulse.
He couldn’t do that again. He had to get rid of Mattie.
He rolled over, trying not to think about what she’d done to him in the bathroom—lifting him up, setting him on the edge of the sink. Owning him with her emotionless caress. His cock responding to her touch—even when he didn’t want it to. A shiver worked up from the soles of his feet, the rousing tremor, a mixture of fear and sexual need. It wasn’t right to feel this way. It wasn’t human. And there wasn’t anyone alive who could help him.
Unless someone else had been where he’d been and knew what he needed to know.
He wasn’t Mattie’s first. He did his best to quell the roll in his stomach as he accepted what he’d become. A toy. A necessary pet. A sexual servant.
What had become of the others who filled the role before him?
Killed? Or worse, did they become like her, a creature that preyed on others?
If she hadn’t come in through the library window when she had, interrupting the research he’d been doing for the newspaper, maybe he’d have the answers. He’d know what to do to protect himself or at least how to keep Rachelle safe. Hayden tossed again, turning away from the storm and the thing that lurked in it.
No, not a thing.
Things.
Chapter Four
“You’ve had enough when I say you’ve had enough.”
“It’s fantastic stuff. You’re going to get more of it, kid.”
Hayden cringed at the word kid. Holding the phone to his ear, he hopped off the curb and leapt over a snow bank, offering his reply as he stomped across the nearly empty street. “This whole zombie thing is going to blow over. The snow will melt, the comic convention will end, and everyone will get back to their life and forget about zombie tribes and life-or-death sex.”
“Life-or-death sex. I love it! Get that down, use it for the next headline.”
Hayden reached the corner and jumped over another pile of snow. “There doesn’t have to be another headline.”
“What’s your problem, college boy? You too good for zombies?”
Not by a long shot, apparently.
“This is the best angle we’ve had in months and you know it. Get your ass back over to the library right now, or wherever you dug that stuff up, and write me something about that life-or-death sex. And more pictures. I want more of those.”
Images of the previous night slashed through Hayden’s mind as Bob continued. “You do this for me, I’ll do something for you.”
Hayden halted in the middle of the sidewalk. He’d never heard that, or anything close to it, come out of Keeler’s mouth. “I’ll look into it tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’m all the way over in Cambridge,” he lied, then continued with the truth. “I spent hours talking to that widow you set me up with. I got some useable stuff. Papers that prove she’s the long-lost daughter of Punchy McLaughlin.”
“All right. Fine. That does sound choice. But I want you back on the zombie sex stuff first thing in the morning. Don’t even come in to the office. Just get your ass out of bed then get me something hot. And fresh. You know I want it fresh.”
“Yeah. I know.” After Bob grunted a goodbye, Hayden ended the call but didn’t slide his phone into his pocket.
He started walking again, making a list of things he wanted from Keeler. Money. A better desk. But most of all access to the man’s connections. Even though he ran a tabloid, Keeler knew people at The Globe and a few at The Times—people who could offer him a better job. A real job. An introduction to a couple of them, that’s what he wanted most.
The streets were amazingly clear and the snow had stopped that morning, but the going was still slow and his legs ached from stepping over uneven heaps all day. Once he was on Commonwealth, a block from his apartment, he stopped, leaned on a low wall sheltering some steps and hit Rachelle’s number.
She answered on the first ring. Her greeting was the usual, but the tone in her voice made the hair on the back of his neck rise.
“You okay?” he asked. “Something going on?”
“Going on?” She laughed, then added, “What would be going on?”
He scanned the nearby rooftops and checked under the eaves. “You sound…different.”
Her laugh lowered, the sound making a shiver roll down his back. “I have you to thank for that.”
More images from the night before tumbled through his mind. Some good. Most not. “So everything’s okay?”
“Stop with that already. When will you be home?”
“Soon.” He watched a van from Cindy’s Market drive past, another lie forming as he started to speak. “Hey, I’m expecting a package. You didn’t happen to see a delivery person hanging around out front, or anyone looking for me, or knocking on the door, anything like that, did you?”
“No. Hurry up and get home.”
Hayden kicked a clump of snow. It rolled a few inches then hit another. There was so much snow. It was everywhere, piled high and stacked in corners. And the wind, constant and biting. There was no escaping. “I am on the way, but I have to write up an interview and do…some other stuff when I get there.”
“Other stuff, huh?” She laughed tightly, the sound rolled through him, making his muscles twitch.
Rachelle ignored both his comment and the silence. “Come over to my place as soon as you get home.”
“I—”
She interrupted him with bye now and clicked off. He slipped his phone into his pocket. Overheard, the sun slid behind a cloud and the street dimmed. Off to the west, a new bank of clouds hung in the sky, the edges an ashy gray, the centers dark. More snow. A lot more. A blue pickup passed, its tires making a hushed rumble as it turned away and headed toward the river. A yellow Brookline Cab Company van sat at the corner, its light on, a stream of exhaust chugging out the back. The thin trail of the cabbie’s cigarette dangling out the open driver’s side window spiraled up toward the darkening sky. The cabbie turned, catching Hayden’s gaze as he took a long draw. The man didn’t look away as he flicked the butt out onto the street. The window went up and the van rumbled off.
Hayden pushed away from the wall. When he reached his place, he scanned the rooftops and checked under the eaves. Empty. He jogged up the steps, swung open the door. Nothing. But he wasn’t dumb enough to think she wasn’t around. He could sense her, feel her deep inside his body, thrumming in his blood. She would show up, and there was nothing he could do to avoid it. The best he could hope for was to be ready, brace himself for her effect on him and, most of all, keep Rachelle away.
Once he reached the top landing, he paused to slide his feet out of his snow-covered boots and set them by the wall. He dug out his keys and reached forward to put the key in the lock, but the door swung open slightly, enough for him to see the outline of Rachelle’s body. No fur coat this time. She was wearing a ratty Boston College sweatshirt, jeans and red wool socks.
She swung the door open, grabbed his arm and pulled him in. He stumbled, his stocking feet sliding on the wood floors. “Surprise, your friend from work was looking for you.”
“Hey there, Hayden.”
Mattie. On his couch, smug as ever. Everything about her was the same, except for the addition of a black leather jacket, zipped up high, completely covering her breasts.
“Wipe that look off your face.” She leaned back, arching her back as
she crossed her bare legs. “I didn’t break in or anything. Your girlfriend found me sitting on the steps. She’s a sweetie, so she let me in. If it weren’t for her, I might be hiding under an eave, you know, just trying to keep warm.” She slid a smile over at Rachelle. “Your girl and I have been getting acquainted and I’ve been filling her in on everything.”
Hayden pulled in a breath and the scent—icy, metallic, unavoidable—rippled through him, nearly knocking him off balance.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to keep working on the zombie stuff?” Rachelle swept around the room to stand next to the couch, two feet from Mattie. “It sounds awesome.”
“I— I—”
Mattie cocked her head and ran her palm down her leg. “Did Bob tell you to keep it a secret?”
Hayden turned away from them, using the time it took to set down his book bag and take off his coat to get himself together.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell Rachelle anything at all about our research,” Mattie said.
“Our research?”
Rachelle came around to Hayden’s side. “Mattie told me some about it, it’s, it’s—”
“Sexy,” Mattie cut in, stretching out the word with a low husky growl.
Rachelle pulled on the hem of her sweatshirt as she glanced at Mattie. “That too, for sure. I was going to say, kind of creepy.” She glanced at Mattie. “But in a fun way.”
Hayden watched Rachelle continue to tug on her sweatshirt, her gaze cast down as her fingers played with the edge. What happened to that sexual machine from last night? What was with the coy act? He dropped into the chair across from the couch. “Creepy but fun?”
Mattie pointed a pale finger at Hayden. “I found one of those zombie tribes you were telling me about. Well, actually I didn’t find it, so I haven’t seen it yet, but someone I know—and trust—told me about it. He saw it.” She dug into her coat pocket and pulled out a wadded-up sheet of brown paper that looked like a piece of a brown grocery bag. She flattened it against her knees. “A guy named Matthew gave this to me. We should go check it out.”
Hayden’s stomach clenched as Mattie pushed the map into Rachelle’s hand. Rachelle lifted the brown paper, her eyebrows twisting as she looked over the scribbled lines drawn with black and blue marker. She flattened it across her legs and leaned closer. “How far away is it?”
“About 40 minutes,” Mattie replied.
“Rachelle? Do you actually think there’s a tribe of zombies camped out near here?” Hayden inflected his voice with disbelief. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It sounds fun, Hayden. Let’s go check it out.” She ran her fingertips along the paper’s edge. “What else do we have to do?”
“You want to go look for zombies? Seriously?”
Mattie unzipped her jacket, exposing the highest of the red wool straps binding her breasts. “If you don’t want to go, Hayden, the three of us could stay here. I’m sure we could find something to do.”
A wave of feral lust so intense it made him nauseous rolled through him.
Rachelle’s attention stayed riveted to the paper in her hands. “I know there’s no such thing as zombies, but the map looks amazing.” She waved it at Hayden. “Maybe it’s a bunch of people pretending to be zombies, that’d be great for you. You could take more pictures. Ask them questions. Bob would love that, right?”
Yes, he would.
But Hayden did not want Rachelle pulled in any deeper. This was his problem. Not hers. And since when was she so concerned about his job? “The roads are too bad to drive.”
“They’re fine. I got here, didn’t I?” Mattie unzipped her jacket another inch. The swells of her breasts showed above the zipper. “Or would you rather stay in?”
Rachelle flopped back into the cushions, her face a mask of petulance. “I don’t want to stay here. I want to see the camp. Whatever it is.” Before he could come up with something to stop the idea, she rolled off the couch, stood. “We’ll take your car, Hayden. That’s why you have four-wheel drive, to do this sort of investigative journalism. Right?” Her phone started to buzz, so she dug into her purse and pulled it out. “It’s Daddy,” she said, then turned away to answer it.
Hayden stood. “I need a drink.”
“Put a kettle on,” Mattie called after him. “We can take some tea on the drive.”
Hayden walked to the kitchen, heading straight for his bourbon. He didn’t bother with a glass. Three swallows later, Mattie came up beside him, surrounding him with her ice-cold scent. “You know we’re going.” She slipped over to the stove, picked up the kettle, shook it, then moved to the sink to fill it.
Hayden took another swig then put the bottle away.
She set the kettle on to boil then leaned on the counter, staring at him, green glimmer fogging her eyes. She unzipped her coat the rest of the way, pushed it open. She ran her fingertips across her nipples, making them peak beneath the red wool. When Hayden looked up from her breasts, her gaze was on his crotch.
“Like I said before,” she murmured, “we’re done when I say we’re done.”
“What happens when we’re done? To me?” Hayden spoke over the bits of Rachelle’s conversation that drifted into the kitchen from the other room.
Mattie continued moving her fingertips across her breasts, playing with her nipples. “If I were you, I guess I’d want to know that too.”
“So tell me,” he asked, trying to ignore the truth that his cock was already hard.
She leaned forward and whispered, “Well, you see, it kind of depends.”
He shifted. “On what?”
A bright flash of green passed through in her eyes. Hayden winced from the pain of his own excitement.
“You know I’m not wearing any panties, right?” She smirked, then leaned back and crossed her arms right underneath her breasts, shoved them up, her tight nipples straining against the fabric. One quick tug and those breasts would be in full view.
“On what?” he asked again.
A hard smile pulled on her mouth then she mouthed, no panties.
Of course she wasn’t going to answer his question. Bitch.
Hayden did his best to ignore her comment, but the image of her bare pussy wouldn’t leave. “Fine.” He shrugged, accepting the inevitable. “Let’s go. Follow your fucking map.” Hayden pulled his gaze away from Mattie’s body as he called into the other room. “Rachelle, you sure you want to do this?”
There was a pause in her phone conversation, then, she called back. “What, are you kidding? Of course.”
Mattie pulled her coat closed then moved to the hall and tipped her head around the corner. “Do you have some real boots, Rachelle? A heavy coat?” She cut her gaze to Hayden, winked, then added, “It’s going to be really cold and we’ll probably have to walk through some woods. Don’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything like that.”
Rachelle’s reply, Good idea, thanks. I’ll be back in a few was followed more pieces of her phone conversation and the beat of her feet across the wood floors. The phone conversation faded.
As soon as the door slammed shut, Mattie’s coat was on the floor, and she was on him, grabbing his belt, her pale hands a blur. When her fingers tangled, he unbuckled it. With one motion, she shoved his pants and briefs down. She grabbed his dick, caressed it, gently running her cold fingers up and down his warm skin. “If you hurry, she won’t have to walk in on us.”
The kettle’s shrill scream sounded. Hayden scrambled to shut off the flame. The kettle continued to scream until he pushed it off the burner. “Turn around.”
Pivoting on the toes of her boots, she looked over her shoulder. “That’s more like it, library boy.”
“Don’t call me that.” He lifted her skirt and positioned his cock between her ass cheeks. “Hold on to the counter.”
Without worrying about whether or not he hurt her, he impaled her with a single sharp drive. She was tight, but her body accepted his full, hard length. He backed out a
nd plunged in again. She bucked, encouraging him to pound into her and he did, feeling the hard muscles of her ass with each drive. Flickers of the constant sexual fire that she’d lit in him flamed and tore through his limbs in a fierce and angry blaze. He pumped his dick into her pussy with quick, remorseless thrusts, grabbing her hips, digging his fingers into her cool flesh. His cock got bigger, his sac tight, and she grunted as he ground into her.
Tremors rolled over her body, and he felt the walls of her vagina squeeze, starting to pull the cum from his dick. The last few thrusts were vicious and fierce, almost to the point of pain, but he couldn’t control himself, didn’t really want to, and he fell into the dark bliss of the mind-numbing physical release. The pleasure died as quickly as it begun.
He withdrew, pulled down her skirt, then adjusted his own clothes.
A few seconds of his life, that was all the time it had been. That’s what he told himself, but he knew it was more.
Mattie looked him up and down as she adjusted the bindings covering her breasts. That green hue, gone. But for how long?
“You made a mess of me,” she said, pretending to tug wrinkles from the pleats of her skirt. “Well done, researcher.”
Resentment rolled through him, bitterness followed. “Why do you keep calling me that?” he asked, getting past her.
She picked up her jacket and followed him into the living room. “That’s what you do, isn’t it? Research.”
“I write for a tabloid newspaper.” He ran his fingers through his hair, wondering if Rachelle would be able to tell what they’d been doing while she was getting boots. He looked at Mattie, and added, “That’s not research.”
She kicked the back of his calf, and he stumbled until he grabbed the edge of the couch.
“You’re so smart, Hayden,” she said after a husky laugh. “I can’t believe you haven’t figured it out.”
He looked over his shoulder at her.
“What I want from you,” she said.
He pointed to his dick, then moved as far from her as possible, stopping beside the picture window that looked out onto the street. Snow and ice, heaped everywhere, covering everything. There were a few signs of the city coming back to life, cars, store lights, but it was apparent Boston was still in the clutches of a nasty storm. A life-squelching blizzard.
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