Forever After (Post Apocalyptic Romance Boxed Set)

by Rose Francis

  While below Leon did much the same, relentlessly tongue lashing her sensitive clit in his frenzy to get the sweet Faith off. He stroked her inner thighs in such a contrastingly gentle fashion as he rode out her climactic release, watching it all over the rise and fall of her body.

  Their insistence kept her cumming long after she should have stopped, and her entire body felt so numb, and yet so alive. She writhed beneath them until finally she could take no more. She cried out, loudly, “Stop!” and immediately Tia pulled away.

  Leon was slower to acquiesce, but finally did, licking around his mouth, clearing it of the honey as he stroked Faith’s soft inner thighs. He gave a satisfied, almost smug, grin to the two women. “I think she liked it,” he declared.

  Faith was panting and struck dumb with the power of her orgasm, still struggling to catch her breath as Tia backed away, stroking the woman’s hair lovingly. She kissed her forehead, but there was nothing sexual in the motion any longer. The moment had passed between the two of them, and now she was once again the older sister caring for her younger.

  She pushed back some matted hair from the wet forehead and cooed softly, “You okay, lovey?”

  Faith nodded, a half smile crooking her lips, but when Leon’s head was finally removed from her thighs, she closed them and curled up slightly. Tia’s hand trailed over her body, caressing her softly. “I’ll go get you a heating pad for the pain,” she murmured, quickly excusing herself from the room.

  Leon watched Tia leave, then climbed up atop the bed, stretching out beside Faith. Stroking her hair and lower stomach gently, he spoke to her in a soft murmur, “I wasn’t too rough on you, was I, Hun?” He gave her cheek a kiss tenderly.

  She obviously didn’t have a frame of comparison, but she shook her head, curling tightly against him. She wanted to be held and lavished, the discomfort of her first time finally fully striking her now that she was removed from pleasure.

  Leon simply wrapped his arms around her and held her in close to his chest, coddling her against his broad physique. Kissing her temple, he murmured reassuringly, “It’s alright. It won’t be like this ever again. Just the pains of the first time.”

  She nodded against him, and only a moment later Tia returned, a bag of hot water instantly finding its way to her lower stomach. Tia curled into Faith’s back, her arm draped over the two of them as she nuzzled and kissed Faith’s hair. “You’re a woman now, my sweet Faith. Nothing left to fear.”

  Leon gave Tia a private smile between the two of them at that, then leaned over, kissing her on the lips as he held and comforted Faith in his arms. He was still rock solid and wanting, but he was tender with the woman and put that aside as they slowly drifted off to a thick, warm sleep. Tia gave him an apologetic smile for his lack of an orgasm, but the way Faith was curled into him, it was impossible to tear her away.

  Chapter 13

  He couldn’t linger long in the town, and after paying a short visit to Celia, he was headed off through the forest again. It was just an hour or two past dawn, and he had a good meal in his stomach and a lot of reminders of the life he could have there. A life filled with people who love and lust for him, who feel safer with him around, and who miss him terribly.

  Yet there always came a time that he had to leave, and strike out on his own once more.

  No matter the loneliness of his life right now, and the pangs of missing the people back there, he couldn’t live like them. Not all the time; it would drive him insane trying to be a farmer.

  Sure, he could be useful in regards to protecting them, too, but that also wasn’t the life he had in mind for himself. Standing around, patrolling, and keeping watch over a small community not his own. He’d feel like a servant. And with the world in ruins, that’s one thing he’d never be. What he’d said to Celia on that matter reflected his true thoughts. He was thriving in this life, as grim as it could be, and he wouldn’t settle. He determined that long ago.

  So with his stop there done, it was time to head back to his place. It was about half a day’s travel by foot to his home, and he’d have to stop there before heading back out for another rendezvous or expedition to scavenge in the city.

  The most he saw on the way back was a deer, though it looked slightly off. Some of the animals did, now, as if they, too, knew of the old gods and what used to lie beneath the earth. Almost maniacal in some manners, yet the graceful fawn let him pass unthreatened.

  It was nearing evening by the time he finally got back, the sun already starting to dip below the horizon and casting an eerie glow along his paradise.

  His home wasn’t much to look at from a distance. Elevated upon a sort of hill with a ring road about it, the building was formerly a massive, suburban construction box store. Now it looked burnt out, the ring road locked with vehicles going both ways, bumper to bumper or rear-ended into one another.

  It was all carefully constructed facade however. The vehicles were positioned by him, painstakingly, when gasoline was still able to be found. Together they formed a wall of sorts, deterring a lot of would be intruders who were daunted by scaling the near vertical slope and climbing the jagged mess of vehicles. He’d scorched the brick himself, and though the glass was busted, he had a near invisible, tar-coated box to keep out the elements behind each window pane.

  It was important for his trips away to make the place look as uninteresting to scavengers, looters, or the wild things as possible. And who would bother to climb that hill, scale that wall of vehicles, just to loot a burnt-out old construction supply building when there were tons of empty buildings all about?

  The doors were all well barred and secured, too, with fake “rubble rooms,” he called them, behind each exterior door, in case someone did batter them down. Breaking through the big metal doors gave intruders little more than a look upon charred-up rubble that barred their way yet again.

  The only genuine access point was a service tunnel hidden in some obscure point. He’d camouflaged it well with foliage and branches, though the big metal vault-like door would be enough to deter most anyone even if they did know it was there.

  The old door took several keys to unlock, but entering in, he covered the entrance and shut it up. The long dark tunnel that led up into the building itself would’ve been treacherous, if not for the fact it was perfectly straight and uncluttered. At the end there was a faint glow-in-the-dark indicator that allowed him to know the stairs were there. Though it was unnecessary, he took pains to make sure there were no signs or sounds of intruders. Satisfied at last, he hit a switch, and the whole of the building lit up. Albeit dimly. The lights exposed a mysteriously strange world of his own construction. The building was massive, easily able to house more than the community he came from, the old steel shelves that were used to hold up heavy metals and lumber now mostly supported a latticework of makeshift chambers, each a “home” in their own right.

  It was a scaffold village, suspending on wood and metal, with walkways suspended eight feet in the air. The purpose was also fuelled by his paranoia. It was another security measure, both against intruders and potential flooding, keeping him, and any who might join him—which was nobody right now—safe from the damages, with a high perch.

  A trained engineer, he had made it all work, and the lights were powered by old solar panels he’d scavenged from the store itself and placed upon the roof. He didn’t get much power from them, but with all his time away, it was enough to allow him to keep the lights on when home, with extra to spare.

  Moving to a hidden nook, he pulled a rope and let a ramp come sliding down from above. One of the hidden access points, he climbed on up, heading to one of the “buildings” within his building. He moved about frequently, also for security, but the last place he’d stayed in was still where he’d kept his favourite change of clothes and a store of food.

  It was a long day of travel, and he was ready to eat and relax. He’d do just that, too, after he’d checked everything and climbed atop the roof to make sur
e the solar panels and water collectors were in place and functional.

  His home was exactly as he left it, leaving him to spend his night peacefully alone. With all the business of the preceding days, sleep found him quickly, and it wasn’t until dawn that he woke once more. After the fall, most individuals had returned to their natural rhythms of following sunrise and sunset, their bodies adjusting quickly without the false lights.

  By the time he set out for the city, the sun was just peeking over the forest. The route to the heart of the city seemed straight forward, but with roaming bandits and wild dogs, not to mention any other manner of large animal, it still required caution.

  He had his favourite places in the city, hidden stores and abandoned homes, but after so long it was getting harder to find things in a good condition. With his skill, however, he always managed something.

  The city was large and urbanized, densely packed in the middle with high buildings and large stores. Some of it had been cleared out with the rise of the “Government,” the self-proclaimed police of the area. The Traditionalists, like Tia, took to more secluded places, and anyone such as he with a taste for individualism got the hell out of their grasp as quickly as possible.

  Glorified bandits, they were termed.

  Leon had in mind things to get, for his own use, for trade, special requests. Before leaving Tia and her crowd he’d met with the man to go over what it was exactly he’d like. With any luck, it wouldn’t be too hard to get, not for Leon anyhow. He knew his way around, and with all the clothing stores and abandoned dressers and closets in a city this size, what he wanted was out there. Somewhere.

  The going was always slow though, because he didn’t rush things. He took his time, agonizingly so, gun at the ready, always scanning the area ahead. He was a big man, but that didn’t keep him from creeping ahead stealthily on his way to his first target, one of the ritzier clothing stores.

  Christian had still obviously had troubles thinking in such terms of what Leon could get for him, only requesting a few clean pairs of rather simple, though attractive, clothes. A couple of button up shirts and pants, a jacket for winter, some boots, and undergarments. He obviously wasn’t thinking big, and it was Leon’s chance to impress.

  As he turned the block toward the upscale stores, however, there was a howl let loose. A few miles away, he knew from experience just how these packs moved and how far their howls were based on the way they bounced off the building. Another responded.

  After their masters died off and could no longer care for them, the dogs of old returned to being beasts. Worse than that, he would bet whatever those damned things were, those gods from elsewhere, had done something to them. They were ravenous monsters now, and he knew better than to risk encountering them.

  With a quick scan, he looked about, trying to find the best place to slip into and hide, to await their passing.

  At the last moment he saw an outside stairwell leading up to an opened window in a tall building. Scrambling up it, he could see the three dogs converge beneath, sniffing the air for him. Large, vicious-looking things, he could almost see a red glow in their eyes before he ducked in the window.

  It smelled inside. A rotted corpse sat at a computer console. It was obviously an office space prior, likely of the store below. The room he first entered was small, though only occupied by that one body, likely a middle-management sort, by his dress. Against the closed door, however, there was the sound of scratching. A shadow moved along the bottom as whatever it was out there paced, scratching on the door at regular intervals.

  It was a closer call than he’d have liked. These damn mutts could cling to a scent persistently, and he’d rather not have to try taking them out. Guns were noisy, but knives were dangerous, requiring him to get up close. He wore thick clothes in layers, his trench coat, sweater, and layers of leather padding keeping him pretty safe from bites. But there were no guarantees, not even with his riot armour looted from a police station.

  Satisfied the pack was kept out, he began to search about as best he could, trying to find some way to another area of the building, or out entirely, a route the dogs couldn’t follow.

  The room was in a corner, having two rather large windows including the one he came in through. The door likely led to a hallway, and were he able to get through whatever animal was out there, he might be able to move freely within the building. The scratching continued, however, growing louder and more insistent. A soft whining came from the beast, though there was no howl or bark to address the pack. It could be anything, though he knew from experience it was more likely an escaped house pet or a fox at this point.

  He wasn’t about to just sit around and wait things out. That wasn’t his way. Hearing just the one on the other side, and peeking beneath to try and gauge if he saw the shadows of more than one dog’s legs, he stood up.

  Sliding his hunting knife free, he slipped his trench coat off. The heavy garment, he judged, would allow him to throw it over the dog, blinding it and rendering it unable to hurt him, and then he could pin the damn thing down and stab it. It’d probably mess up his coat with blood, but hey, that was the least of his worries.

  The moment the door opened, whatever it was on the other side scampered away, frightened by the sudden motion. He only caught the tail end of light orange fur as it slid out of view and around the corner. With nothing else impeding his way, he was free to head down the stairs and into the department store below.

  Struck off guard by the sudden departure of the animal, he slung his coat back on and moved ahead. With the rifle over his shoulder he had his hunting knife in hand, fighting ready as he pushed on to search the rest of the building as quickly and quietly as he could for a way out.

  The rest of his scavenging was uneventful. Walking through the upstairs of the building, he found a stack of books abandoned in a corner of one of the offices which he quickly pilfered. He was able to easily procure a large mass of men’s clothing, not to mention a few lovely dresses for women.

  There wasn’t a soul to be seen, leaving the city eerie and wild feeling. It was surreal, walking the barren streets and not hearing a single person. To not see anyone walking between the stores. It was always a little unsettling, but as the day grew later, he knew not to tarry.

  Another pack of dogs were walking the streets just before he got home, but with his keen listening and evasive maneuvers, he was easily able to avoid drawing their attention.

  He’d lucked out, he realized. Though he’d had a narrow brush with danger, it had paid off immensely. But he needed to rest, and plan.

  His routine was so steady. Head into the city. Grab what he could. Return home to his empty nest. A cat had found him on his third trip out, following him home and begging for scraps, his black frame thin and emaciated. He had a strange limp, likely the cause of his kindness to a human and his inability to hunt.

  He couldn’t help but sigh at the sight of the poor thing. Though in the end a combination of loneliness and pragmatism won out; he’d keep the cat and care for it. With the limp it’d probably be a lousy hunter, but hey, the rats probably wouldn’t know that right away. She might serve to scare the things off.

  It was a week and a half before he saw something out of the norm of Bandits and Government. His usual trek was impassable, a large black bear family threatening him down a different, strange path. Through the edge of the forest that surrounded the town, it was almost as if someone had formed a road, but it was so small and indistinguishable. If it hadn’t been for his skills at tracking, he’d never have seen it.

  Chapter 14

  Pangs of missing the women back at Tia’s town were pushed aside, as he got down to business. Following the trail, he set out with great caution to determine if this was something to be concerned about or not. Any new encampment of people was something to watch out for.

  It curved away from the city, and for a few moments he thought he had lost it before he heard a light voice. It sounded as though it were a wom
an, singing. As he neared it, he could hear the words to some old world song that was far older than the voice that sang it so emotionally.

  Coming upon a very small clearing, he could see her back as she hung up some clothing on a line. She was dressed in a light skirt and an airy top, her black hair pulled to the side in a ponytail. Her shoulder blades were visible through the almost see-through top, and he could see them tense, her motions stopping as she turned to face him.

  Wide, black eyes bored into his, her bangs swept to the side across her arched brows. Her lips turned downwards, and she immediately grasped the gun from the holster on her thigh, pointing it at him.

  Her English had an Asian accent to it, though she spoke it fluently.

  “Don’t come closer.”

  Leon hadn’t had his gun pointed at her, so entranced by her singing was he, though at her alarmed demand he lowered it further. “Hey,” he said in a smooth, calm voice, “it’s okay.” Taking his second hand off the rifle he tried to look as harmless as he could, though it was difficult, being six and a half feet tall and a mountain of muscle garbed in police armour and a trench coat.

  “I was just investigatin’ the trail,” he explained softly.

  She hissed, her beautiful face contorting in annoyance. “Fuck!” she exhaled. “Where’d you pick up on the trail, huh? I don’t have anything here for you to take.” Looking around the clearing, it was likely true. A small wooden hovel and a fire pit were hardly cause for celebration, and she stepped toward him with her handgun raised. “Show me.”

  Slowly he brought the rifle back around behind him, slung over his shoulder by the leather strap. “I ain’t a bandit, nor a crook,” he stated firmly. “And as for where I picked up on your trail... fine. This way,” he said, turning and beginning to walk slowly.

  Watching her, he began to move along at a slow pace. “I was just curious as to if I had new neighbours... and whether I should avoid ’em,” he explained in the same deep, soothing voice. Though he couldn’t help but be amazed by the pale, petite woman he’d just stumbled upon, her obsidian hair in such a stark contrast. She was like something out of a movie of the old world, he thought to himself as she pointed the gun at him.