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“But hopefully we can leave soon and get to Fort Knox in time. I’ll get you there if I possibly can.”
The dread of it—the knowledge that certain doom was coming for the remnant of our town and all the refugees gathered at Fort Knox—sits like a weight in my gut. If it’s as fortified as everyone thinks it is, they’d be able to withstand smaller attacks. But the force of an entire drove?
I don’t see how it would be possible. Their only hope is to flee.
It feels like Travis is waiting for me to say something, but I have no idea what to say.
Whatever is happening between us feels more real than it’s ever felt before, but I still don’t know what it is.
And the truth is I’m scared.
Scared of getting this close to Travis. Scared of needing him too much—emotionally, not just to survive.
What if he gets taken away, just like everyone else in my life?
What if he doesn’t need me the way I need him?
What if he doesn’t feel like I do?
Maybe these are normal fears and questions at the beginning of a relationship, but nothing has been normal since the asteroid slammed into Europe.
And love might be the biggest risk of all at the end of the world.
I give Travis a wobbly smile and lie down beside him again.
I don’t say anything at all.
Nine
WE STAY AT THE HOUSE for four days.
It’s the third day before Travis is able to put much weight on his ankle. He still limps, but he can finally move pretty easily. I assume this is the sign that we need to leave, but he doesn’t say anything about it.
I don’t either.
The truth is I don’t really want to move on.
This weird little house is as safe and comfortable as it’s possible to be in today’s world. We have sustainable power. Running water. Reinforced windows and doors. Plenty of food and supplies. We’re in the middle of nowhere and haven’t seen a sign of another living soul. We can sleep well, eat well, and not worry about getting attacked at any second.
I want to stay here, but we can’t. Not unless I’m prepared to sacrifice everyone I care about.
And I’m not.
I know for sure Travis isn’t going to sacrifice Cheryl.
Which means we need to leave as soon as we can.
One afternoon we bury the bones of the man who built and stocked this house. I say a little prayer over his grave. I don’t know a thing about the man. He might have been a paranoid nutjob or the world’s biggest asshole, but what he left behind has been a blessing to us, and I want to do right by his remains.
On the third day, Travis swears he hears wild turkeys in the woods, so he takes his hunting rifle to go look for them, still limping slightly.
Most vegetation died a few years ago from the ash and blocked sun, but some of it is finally starting to return. We’ve heard bugs. We’ve seen birds.
It’s not impossible that other animals are slowly coming back as well.
I don’t have any desire to hunt for wild turkey, so I stay at the house. Travis tries to get the dog to go with him, but the dog climbs onto the couch with me instead.
The more I get to know this dog, the smarter I realize he is.
Travis has been gone for two hours now, and I’m still stretched out on the couch, reading an old spy novel I found in a box under the bed. It’s not my kind of book, but it’s better than nothing. The dog is stretched out too, squeezed between my legs and the back of the couch and snoring loudly.
Every once in a while, I’ll reach down and stroke the dog’s head.
It’s a good afternoon. I’m clean and full and cozy and have a book to read. And Travis locked the door behind him, so I’m safe.
I tell myself we need to leave tomorrow. I need to mention it to Travis as soon as he returns.
As if my thoughts have summoned him, I hear Travis unlocking the front door. He steps into the main room, looking hot and rugged in his worn jeans and an old gray T-shirt with the sleeves torn off.
I smile at him as he puts his hunting rifle down. “Didn’t find any turkeys?”
“I did,” he says, stepping over to scratch behind the ears of the dog, who gives a few little wags without moving or opening his eyes. “But there were only two. A male and a female. Didn’t wanna kill one of ’em since we got plenty of food here.”
“That makes sense. Fresh turkey would be nice, but I’m glad you didn’t kill the poor things.”
I’m still smiling as Travis scoots me over to make room for himself on the couch. It’s a tight squeeze with all three of us, and I basically have to lie on top of him.
I don’t mind.
He holds me in place with one arm around me, and the dog gives us a grumpy look when he has to get up and rearrange himself by flopping on top of our feet.
“How’s your book?” Travis asks.
“Eh. It’s okay. Better than nothing.”
“Should’ve come huntin’ with me.”
“I’m not a hunter.”
“I didn’t kill anythin’. But I saw a rabbit.”
“You did?” I lift my head to check his expression. He looks relaxed and content but also with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. He must have enjoyed his afternoon.
“Yep. A rabbit and the turkeys and a bunch of other birds.”
“What kinds?”
“A few cardinals. A blue jay. Three chickadees. And a couple of crows.”
“Wow. I can’t believe there were so many.” I rest my cheek against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat. Fast and steady. “I wish I could have seen the chickadees. They’re such cute little things. They used to come to my grandma’s bird feeder. The other birds would perch right on the feeder and chow down, but the chickadees would always grab one little piece of food and fly up to a branch to eat it. But when the other birds got scared off by a cat or something, the chickadees were always the bravest ones. They always came back to the feeder first.”
It sounds like Travis is smiling as he murmurs, “Shoulda come huntin’ with me. Could’ve seen the chickadees.”
“I like crows too. They have such attitudes. It always seems like they’re talking right at you.”
“They probably are. Crows are one of the few birds that can identify specific people.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Yep. Crows are real smart. When I was a kid, the boy next door used to scream and throw things at a couple of crows who would hang out on our street. Wasn’t long, every crow in town would squawk their heads off at that boy anytime they saw him. I’m pretty sure the crows on my street told all the other crows about him. They all hated that kid.”
I’m giggling at the mental picture his story has evoked. “Sounds like he deserved it.”
“Sure did. Never liked anyone who’s mean to animals.”
“Me either.” I rub his flat belly absently, enjoying the feel of his firm flesh and tight muscles. “You smell all outdoorsy today.”
“Yeah?” He nuzzles the top of my head. “Thought I always stink like Travis.”
I was teasing him a couple of days ago about his Travis scent, and he evidently hasn’t forgotten. “I never said stink. And you do always smell like Travis. But there are different kinds of Travis smells.”
“Oh yeah? What kinds?”
“There’s the hot, sweaty Travis smell. And there’s the just-took-a-shower Travis smell. And there’s the ready-for-sex Travis smell. And there’s the outdoorsy Travis smell—the one that smells like dirt and trees and air. That’s how you smell right now.”
“Ah. Got it.” I feel a brush of something against my hair, so I tilt my head up to see what it is. But Travis isn’t doing anything when I look. He’s got his eyes closed and the corners of his mouth turned up.
“How’s your ankle?” I ask.
“Good. Still a little sore, but with it wrapped up, I can move fine.”
I put my head back down on his chest, s
till idly stroking his side.
I wait to see if he’ll suggest that it’s time for us to go, but he doesn’t.
He doesn’t say anything as his body relaxes beneath mine. In a couple of minutes, I’m pretty sure he’s dozed off. The dog definitely has. He’s snoring again.
I don’t fall asleep, but I enjoy being snuggled up with them this way.
Pretty soon we won’t be able to do this anymore.
TRAVIS ONLY SNOOZES for half an hour.
When he starts to shift beneath me, I sit up. I have an idea I want to try for dinner, and I’ll need to get started on it in a bit.
Travis sits up too, stretching and giving me a lazy smile.
When he stands, he leans over to adjust the wrapping on his ankle. He bends at the waist, so his butt is right there in front of me, the soft denim stretched tautly over the neat, firm curve of it.
I don’t even think about it. His ass is simply irresistible.
I give it a little swat.
Travis grunts and jerks, clearly surprised. Still reaching down to fix the compression wrap on his ankle, he shoots me a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder.
I giggle helplessly at his expression. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
He straightens up, looming over me. “You couldn’t resist?”
“Right.” I try to keep a straight face but fail hopelessly. “It was too tempting a target.”
A spark ignites in his eyes. Half-fierce and half-playful. When he reaches down for me, I know what he’s going for.
He’s going to swat me on the butt the way I swatted him.
Naturally, I try to keep him from doing so.
We have a silly wrestling match on the couch, with me trying to scramble out of his reach and him trying to turn me over so he can get to my bottom.
I do pretty well. At least I think I do.
I’m laughing helplessly as I keep my butt firmly against the couch cushions.
Finally Travis hefts me up bodily and drapes me over his shoulder so my head is hanging down at his back and my legs are dangling at his front.
My butt is easily accessible now. He gives me a few quick pops with his hand as I squeal and writhe and giggle.
“You’re cheating!” I grab fistfuls of the back of his shirt and pull on it.
“Why is it cheating?” He’s doing better than me about keeping a straight face, but I hear the texture of laughter in his voice.
“Because it’s not my fault you’re stronger than me.” I realize his butt is in reach of my hands, so I smack it a few times. The leverage isn’t good at this angle, so it doesn’t make a satisfying sound.
The dog lifts his head to see what we’re doing and immediately lays it down again, stretching out longer so he’s filling up most of the couch.
Travis huffs and starts walking. “You’re askin’ for it, woman.”
“I’m not asking for anything. Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
It soon becomes clear he’s carrying me to the bedroom. When he reaches the bed, he lifts me off his shoulder and drops me onto the mattress. I try to squirm away from him, but he won’t let me. He moves over me quickly, straddling my legs with his to hold me in place.
He tickles me—my sides, my armpits, the undersides of my knees, my feet—and I squeal and laugh until I’m almost sobbing. He’s laughing too. Soft and low and uninhibited. Then he turns me over and spanks me a few times. Just light swats of his hand.
He’s still poised over me when he stops. I’m lying on my stomach, my head turned to one side and my cheek pressed against the quilt. He’s straddling the back of my thighs, and now he leans forward until he’s holding himself above me on his forearms. His heavy breathing blows against the back of my neck, fanning the hairs that have slipped out of my braids.
My heart is beating like crazy, but the tenor of my excitement has shifted.
I’m suddenly aware of the weight, the size, the heat, the strength of him behind me.
He shifts his position, and I gasp when I feel a bulge in his jeans pushing against my bottom.
“You wanna?” he murmurs gruffly.
“Yes.” I sound ridiculously breathless. Arousal has tightened almost painfully between my legs. “Yes, please.”
He pushes up enough to grab the waistband of my leggings and peels them off my legs, taking my socks and panties with them. Then he tugs off my T-shirt, and I’m totally naked as he positions me on my hands and knees in front of him.
I look over my shoulder as he takes his shirt and jeans off. He keeps his underwear on as he moves over me again, pressing a kiss against the nape of my neck and then kissing his way down my back. He reaches beneath me with one hand so he can fondle my breasts, and between his mouth and his hand and my helpless position, I’m soon squirming with need.
He raises my hips more and kisses the small of my back, using one hand to feel between my legs. I’ve gotten hot and wet quickly, and he grunts his approval as he slides a finger inside me.
When he withdraws his hand, I assume he’s going to pull down his underwear, but he kisses me again, even lower. The dip just above my bottom. Before I know what’s happening, he lifts my lower body up off the mattress, opening me so he can lick a hard, sloppy line from my clit to my entrance.
I squeal in pleasure and surprise before he lowers me again.
“Like that, don’t you?” There’s a hot smile in his voice.
I look at him over my shoulder as he shucks his underwear. He’s flushed and sexy and tense. “You just surprised me.”
“Uh-huh. That’s all it was.”
“Well, maybe it felt kind of good. But I think you need some more practice. If you want to try it again, I have no objections.”
He gives his soft snort of amusement as he kneels behind me, now totally naked. Without warning, he lifts my lower body and licks me again, this time mouthing me long enough to evoke a long mewling sound.
He puts me back down and pulls apart my ass cheeks so he can line himself up at my entrance. He nudges a few times before he sinks in, and I make a silly moan as he penetrates me with the thick substance of his erection.
“Guess you like that too,” he says between ragged intakes of air.
I can’t even try for teasing sarcasm anymore. My body feels too good, too full, too needy. I press my hot cheek against the quilt and grind my bottom against his pelvis. “Yeah. Oh yeah. I like it.”
He moans as he withdraws and makes another slow thrust.
I gasp and clutch at the covers beneath me.
He thrusts again. And again. Slow. Deep. Torturously good.
It goes on so long and builds up my sensations so much, and I try to smother the loud, agonized sounds I’m making.
Finally I can’t take any more. I beg him hoarsely, “Oh God, Travis, please. Please. I need... Oh God, I need...”
“Tell me what you need.” He’s stopped moving, buried inside me. I can feel the brush of his balls against my sensitized flesh.
“I need it harder. Fast. I need... I need...”
“What do you need, darlin’?”
“I need...”
“Tell me.”
“I need the bouncing,” I admit in a rush, wondering why I’m not more embarrassed at the confession. “I need you to shake me. Hard. I need it to come.”
He makes a huff of sound, and I don’t know if it’s arousal or amusement. But he picks up his speed immediately, pumping into me hard and fast.
I cry out in relief as his motion shakes my whole body. “Yeah! More. Please more.”
He braces himself with one arm and fucks me hard from behind until he’s slamming into me with a slapping sound on each thrust. I’m so loud I turn my head so I can scream into the quilt as climax finally wracks my body.
He’s been grunting like an animal, and he makes a strangled sound as my inner muscles squeeze tightly around him. He pushes against my contractions as I ride out my orgasm, and then he pulls out.
I’m thinking he’s going to come, but he doesn’t. He turns me over without warning, pries my thighs apart, and pulls me by the hips so I’m closer to where he’s kneeling. Then he lifts my bottom and fits himself into me again.
I groan and arch my back, reaching out for something to hold on to and finding nothing but the quilt. I fist my hands in the fabric as he moves inside me again.
Travis’s hot eyes look gray in the artificial lighting, and they’re moving all over my body. My damp face. My bare breasts jiggling from his motion. My belly. My parted thighs. The place where our bodies are joined, where he’s moving in and out of me.
He obviously likes everything he sees. His expression is possessive. Almost primal.
“You want it hard again?” he rasps.
“Yes!” I’m tossing my head helplessly as another orgasm begins to build. “Oh yes. Please. I need it so hard.”
He picks up his speed and his force until he’s pushing my body backward with each thrust. His grip on my hips is unrelenting, and my breasts and my legs and my braids are all bouncing from the momentum.
I’m coming before I know to expect it, and there’s no way to smother the loudness of it this time. I sob and I sob, and I beg him not to stop.
He keeps fucking me until the pleasure is so intense that it frightens me.
“That’s all,” I finally gasp. “Travis. That’s all I can...”
He slows down immediately until he’s no longer thrusting. He rolls his hips slightly. “Y’okay?”
Tears are streaming down my face. “Yeah. Yeah. Just too good for me to handle.” I smile so he knows I’m really all right.
He smiles back, sweat dripping down his face. “I need a minute to come. You want me to pull out right now?”
I shake my head. “Not until you’re ready.”
He starts pumping again, but not as vigorously as before. His eyes never leave me as he works up to a climax, and at the end his gaze is holding mine.
His grunts turn into choked sounds, and then he pulls out of me with a twisting of his features. He’s still meeting my eyes as he squeezes himself through his own climax, coming on my stomach.
For some reason our held gaze is just as intense as my orgasms were.