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WHEN THE ZOMBIE GRABBED her arm, a cold chill swept through Jude. It touched me. Panicked, she swung at the rough claw with the crowbar, hoping her clumsy aim would hit its mark. The bar jarred the zombie’s arm, causing it to drop its nasty grip. Narrowing her eyes, Jude backed up, raised the crowbar with purpose, and smashed it into the zombie’s neck.
It fell to the ground, landing with a muffled thud, its body half in the tall grass of the lawn and half on the walkway. She beat at it with the straight end of the tool, hacking the head to a pulp. Stay down! Perspiration trickled down her neck as she swung and swung again, raising the metal bar higher with each strike, little whines coming from her throat. Her arm ached with the exertion, but she couldn’t seem to stop.
“Jude.” Sky put his hand on her shoulder.
She almost screamed at the contact and swung around, snapping out of her daze. ”Good God. Talk about pissing in pants.”
“Let’s go in.” He gave her a little nudge up the porch stairs.
Jude wiped the crowbar the best she could on the grass, averting her skittish gaze from the putrid mess that now lay on the edge of the walkway.
In the house, she said nothing as he helped her push the bookcase back across the secured front door. She crossed her arms, watching him as he unsnapped the holster from his jeans and tossed it onto the dining room table. His face was pale, and his hand shook as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“I could use a shower,” he said, turning away from her and moved toward the back door. “How about you?”
“No, thanks.” Jude shook her head. “I’m not as bad off as you. My zombie adventure was not as up close and personal.” She wrinkled her nose at the black stains on his jeans. “You might want to get those pants off before that soaks through.”
He looked down. “You’re right.” He pulled his shirt over his head. “Sure you won’t keep me company?”
She gave him a brief, tight smile. “Nah. You need as much water as you can get.”
“Okay.” He gave her a puzzled glance before he opened the back door.
Jude turned and mounted the stairs, shedding her top as she headed toward the bathroom. Her skin crawled with disgust. The sooner she was able to wash away the memory of dry zombie fingers, the better.
She hoisted a bucket of water to the closed commode lid, grabbed a clean washcloth and a bar of soap. The sounds of water splashing came through the half-open window. The reality of what happened hit her so strongly that she paused in the process of washing her arms. Only dumb luck had kept them from getting hurt. She could be cleaning Sky’s blood from her hands instead of black flecks of zombie tissue. She could be sobbing in exhaustion from digging his grave.
Moving in slow motion, she ran the wet washcloth over her face and hair. She didn’t have half as much black spatter as Sky did. From the looks of it, he’d had that zombie right on top of him.
Her stomach twisted in a knot. He had to go. The next time, odds were, one or both of them would be bitten or injured badly. Then what would she do? She’d only had to take care of herself these past weeks. If she had been alone when they showed up, she would have packed her little pipe and smoked until they either went away or brought their friends. But Sky, with his lovemaking and sweet words, had made her care about life again. Goddamn him.
Jude snatched a clean shirt off the shower rod and yanked it on. The sound of the water splashing across the wood continued, which meant she had time.
She hurried down the hall to his room and grabbed his pack. He hadn’t taken much out, so it was a cinch for her to gather up the few things lying around and shove them inside. For good measure, she snatched the book he had been reading off the nightstand, stuck it in, and zipped the backpack. Breathing heavily, she dragged it down the hallway and pushed it down the stairs.
Gnawing at the inside of her cheek, she followed the backpack as it tumbled down the risers and ran into the kitchen. She chose random packets of food and a few bottles of water, which she carried back to the living room and stuffed in the pack. Satisfied that she wouldn’t be sending him into the wild zombie yonder less than prepared, she retrieved her gun and sat on the sofa to wait.
When he entered the living room, freshly showered, wearing new clothes and rubbing his hair with a towel, she almost relented. He was so kind to her and she loved his company. But then she remembered the two graves in the backyard and steeled herself against the rush of sentimentality.
She brought the gun up and pointed it at him. “Were you bitten?”
“What?” When he pulled the towel from his head, his expression went from weary to watchful. A muscle in his jaw twitched as his gaze moved from her face down to the barrel of the gun. “You know,” he said in a conversational tone, “despite everything that’s happened, I’ve never had the dubious pleasure of a gun pointed in my face. What are you doing, Jude?”
At the sound of his voice, her grip faltered for a second. Shut him out. She bit down on her lip and squeezed her hands around the gun, curling her finger against the trigger. At this range, she might spatter a good amount of his brain against the wall if she hit him right.
“I asked you if you were bitten. Did you get bit?”
“Jude, no, I’m not bit.” He held up his arms, the hem of his shirt rising to expose the skin above the waistband of his jeans. “Put the gun down.”
“No.” Her hair had slipped from her knot. She swiped it with her hand to keep it out of her eyes. “Take off your clothes.” If he was bitten, if she saw anything that looked vaguely like teeth marks, she was going to shoot him in the eye. If he was healthy, she would send him on his way.
“What?”
If she hadn’t so upset, the shocked expression on his face would have made her laugh. Jude frowned and hefted the gun. “You speak English, right? Take off your clothes so I can see for myself.”
She saw his gaze move to the left, toward the discarded gun on the dining room table, and she tsked at him. “You won’t make it,” she singsonged. “Would you rather be naked or dead? Take off your clothes. It’s not like I haven’t seen what you have to offer.”
“I think this is a little different.”
“Naked is naked. So strip. Please,” she added and gave him her sweetest smile. Her lungs felt compressed in her chest, and the heat was suffocating. Her arms, especially the right one, ached from holding the gun still for so long.
“Fine.” Sky unlaced his boots and kicked them off. Next came the clean jeans and shirt, leaving him only in his boxer briefs and socks.
“Thank you,” she said, fighting to keep the gun steady. Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them away. “Now turn around.”
He followed her directive without speaking. His back was abraded, but there were no serious cuts or gouges. That was good for him, but he still had to go.
“Your back is all scraped up,” she told him. “But otherwise you’re okay. And, may I say, I do enjoy looking at you.” She motioned with the gun. “Put your clothes back on.” She jerked her head toward the front door. “Take your stuff and hit the road.”
“You packed my shit?” He pulled on his jeans and his boots. “I thought—”
“Your invitation has been rescinded,” she snapped. “I don’t need to worry about you getting killed on my watch.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” His voice was persuasive and sure. “You don’t.”
The eight-pound gun was starting to feel like twenty. The muscles in her arms trembled. She would have to put it down soon. “I do have to worry about that. If you get hurt or bitten, who do you think is going to either have to care for you or...” She swallowed. “Or put you down?”
“Same thing goes for you, Jude.” He took a step toward her. ”This relationship we have? We carry the same burden.”
“What relationship? We fucked, so what?” Blinking, she tried to keep her thoughts from getting away from her. She refused to get attached to someone who could be dead tomorrow, or would force her to make the same choice her mother had to make.
His expression relaxed, moved from watchful to calm. “Whether you trust me or not, you’re not going to shoot me.”
“You don’t know that.” She was angry that her voice shook and showed her fear. She was also angry he knew she wasn’t going to shoot him. And oh, the gun was getting heavier by the second. Her entire body vibrated with the effort of holding it up. “I want you to get your stuff and go. Please, Sky.”
He took another step toward her. “Why don’t you put the gun down and we can talk about it.”
“I want you to pack up and go when it gets light enough.” She frowned. Now she was negotiating, retreating from her original goal. He needed to get out of the house now. “It should be light in a few hours.”
“Put the gun down, Judith.”
One in the eye, one in the chest. Then in the back of the head once she dragged him outside. A cold wave of anxiety invaded her as she pictured herself shooting him in the face. She had never shot a living person. But why wouldn’t he agree, say okay? Why wouldn’t he stop? “I’ll shoot you. I swear I will.” Sweat trickled down her back, and she exhaled through her nose.
He shook his head once. “Nope. You won’t shoot me, and I’m not leaving.”
Close enough to touch. If she pulled the trigger now, she’d be splattered with his blood.
Sky reached out and placed his hand on the barrel, nudged it toward the floor. Jude let it drop, feeling the relief in her shoulders and arms as the blood rushed back into the muscles. She slipped her finger out of the trigger and allowed him to untangle the gun from her shaky, sweaty grip. He placed it in the corner.
“Jude.” He was too close, crowding her backward until the backs of her thighs pressed against the edge of the mahogany sideboard. There was nowhere else for her to go. The nearness of his body, the smell of shampoo he had used, intensified her inner battle. Don’t get caught up again. She started to raise her hands to push him away, to say thanks but no, thanks. Allowing him to get that close again would be too dangerous for her.
“Jude, look at me,” he said. Though reluctant to make that connection, she raised her gaze to his and held it, silently challenging him to say anything that would convince her his continued presence would be anything but a burden for them both. “You don’t have to do this all alone.”
“Stop with your teacher psychobabble.” She rubbed her forehead. Her chest was tight with warring emotions. “You got what you want. You have a place to stay, right? I won’t say I like the situation, but I can’t turn you out on the street.” Damn it to hell. Stay or go. It didn’t matter when death could be a heartbeat away. “Do what you want.”
Sky took her face in his hands and kissed her, melting the remainder of her stubbornness. She closed her eyes, fascinated at the way every inch of her body strained toward him. He was impossible to resist. The texture of his skin under her palms made her want to touch him everywhere all at once, despite her reluctance to be so connected. Maybe this would work out after all.
He placed a hand at the base of her neck, guided her mouth against his. The gentle swirling motion of his tongue was captivating, igniting a blaze of desire between her legs. When the kiss broke, she was left breathless and dizzy.
Before she could catch her breath, he kissed the skin beneath her ear, then grazed the delicate curve of her neck with his teeth. A warm ache bloomed to life in her lower belly, heating her skin with the flush of arousal.
“Wait,” she said, grasping at one last shred of sanity. “One thing. When you go, you go. I stay. That’s not negotiable.”
“Everything’s negotiable,” he said. Embracing her, he slid his hands up her back and unhooked her bra. “Everything.”
Watching her face, he traced around one bare nipple with his finger and brushed his thumb over the stiff bud. A streak of nerve-shattering pleasure shot through her pussy. Hands still under the shirt, he cupped a breast in each hand, rubbing his thumbs back and forth across the sensitive bud. Too flustered to speak, she braced both palms on the sideboard, her arms rigid. She didn’t trust her wobbly legs to support her much longer.
He stroked and tugged at the swollen tips, sending ripples of passionate bliss through her. Minute flutters teased her pussy, making her shudder with delight. Placing one hand on the back of his neck, she pulled him to her for a kiss, opening her legs to rock against the swollen ridge of his erection.
“Unzip your pants,” he said.
“What?”
Kneeling at her feet, he gave her a quick glance as he unlaced her boots. ”Unzip your pants.”
With trembling fingers, she worked the waistband button open, grabbed the little metal tab, and pulled the zipper down. She couldn’t get her clothes off fast enough. She kicked off her boots, then pushed her underwear and jeans down as one. She nudged the bundle away with her foot.
“Up you go.” She gave a small whoop as he put his hands on her waist and lifted her onto the sturdy piece of furniture.
Sky stood between her eagerly parted thighs and stroked the side of her face, started to say something, but kissed her temple instead. Taking matters into her own hands, Jude unzipped his jeans and slid her hands past the light spray of hair on his belly to encircle his cock, stroking the hot, smooth skin.
When she squeezed and caressed him, he made a noise in his throat and shivered under her touch. Touching him, feeling the size of him, increased her arousal, anticipating how he would feel inside her.
“Slow down,” he mumbled against her neck, placing his hand on hers, stilling her rhythm.
“You’re no fun,” she replied, brushing her fingers against his nipples before giving him another delicious, body-heating kiss. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and nipped it.
“We’ll see about that.” He slid his hands under her bare bottom and pulled her forward, entering in one gliding thrust. Jude pressed her knees on either side of his waist, wriggling to accommodate him. She let her hands meander across the bunched muscles of his shoulders and down his back, and then laced her fingers together in a firm hold.
Sky sighed and kissed the top of her ear, telling her how much he wanted her. Jude held him tight, concentrating on the driving rhythm between her legs. She lifted her knees higher and arched to meet each powerful thrust, shivering with overwhelming pleasure. He fucked her like she wanted, fast and deep, each forward glide pushing her closer to climax.
The air in the room was stifling, the silence broken by their harsh breathing and the knocking of the sideboard against the wall. Jude clenched her inner muscles around him, gasped at the increased friction. Close to climax, she bit down on her lower lip, giving a small cry when her orgasm broke, filling her with a blinding rush of delight.
Penetrating deeper with each push, he clutched her hips hard right before he came, groaning his satisfaction. She hugged him to her breasts, feeling his body stiffen and shake in her arms.
Jude rested her head on his shoulder as her breathing returned to normal. She ruffled the hair at the back of his head and kissed his neck as he zipped his jeans.
“You all right?” He helped her down and pushed her sweaty hair off her forehead.
Sudden shyness made her mute. Attempting to cover herself, she crouched down and searched for her clothing in the dim light.
“Hold on.” He crossed the room and brought his T-shirt back to her.
“Thanks.” She wrapped it around her waist while he picked up her jeans and boots.
“Come on”—he put his hand in the small of her back—“let’s get some sleep. Your bed or mine?”
“My bed,” she said, starting up the stairs before him. “That other bed is too hard on my back.”
He patted her behind. “Are you sure it was the bed?”
“Well—”She started to answer when his meaning dawned on her. She laughed softly as her face heated with a blush. “Regardless of the reason, I prefer my bed.”
“Ladies’ choice.” His tone was mighty cheerful for someone who’d been held at gunpoint less than an hour ago.
Jude climbed the rest of the steps in silence. How do you even apologize for that?
In her bedroom, she untangled the bundle of clothes and laid them carefully across a chair in the corner. She placed her boots at the base of the dresser, then went into the bathroom to wash up.
When she came back into the bedroom, Sky was lying under the sheet, an arm thrown over his eyes, his jeans crumpled on his side of the bed. At first she thought he was asleep, but when she climbed into her side of the bed and settled on the pillow, he reached over and took her hand. The tender gesture made her stomach knot with regret.
Jude breathed in, a long inhale that helped gather her courage. “I’m sorry,” she said, almost in a whisper.
“Sorry for what?” he mumbled, stroking her arm under the sheet.
She had to repeat it, to make it real. “I’m sorry for threatening to shoot you.”
He chuckled. “Being held at gunpoint by a beautiful woman is something I can live with.” He squeezed her hand. “That’s a felony, you know. Mandatory prison time.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.” She entwined her fingers with his.
“You got yourself a deal,” he mumbled before falling asleep.