The Fearless (When the World Fell #2)

One

Liv

" I ncoming." Cruz pointed his knife at an infected woman limping toward me from the right.

I'd already clocked her in my peripheral, so I planted my feet and waited for her to come to me. With a swing of my tantō, I took off the top of her head, sidestepping her body as it dropped to the footpath. I fell into stride with Cruz again, sending him a flirty look that ended with both of us smiling.

The energy between us was different today. Lighter. We'd just kicked off another round of scavenging to stock up on supplies before we left Hammond Rise, our pitstop after the bloodbath in the city yesterday. The sky was the grey orange of dawn and the weeds bordering the pavement glittered with dew—the first sign that the warmer days of early autumn would soon be over.

"Are you feeling all right this morning?" he asked.

Several of the dead were drawn to our location, a few shuffling nearby, while others were slow-moving silhouettes in the distance. Cruz jabbed his knife into the eye of an infected man who'd been lurking outside the house beside ours, shoving him to the ground whilst barely breaking stride. I dodged the body, and we continued along the street, our backpacks semi-permanent attachments to our bodies, our weapons forever at the ready.

"I'm fine." I'd never known a man to care more about my emotional wellbeing than Cruz did. Everything he gave me highlighted what had been missing from my romantic life in the years before he came along. I spared him a glance and went back to watching the houses and the vacant land on the opposite side of the road.

We'd both crashed into a deep sleep fuelled by exhaustion last night, and much to my disappointment, nothing had happened between us other than that one momentous and very sweet kiss. Whenever I looked at him now, the memory of his mouth on mine resurfaced, and it required more effort than I wanted to admit to block out those thoughts. I wondered if I took up anywhere near the amount of space in his head as he did in mine.

"Fine?" he asked over his shoulder as he strode toward another of the dead and put it down. "That's all you've got for me?"

The smile in his voice encouraged one from me. Despite sleeping on the couch again rather than in a comfortable bed, I felt refreshed and in a better place than I was after the shootings. The peaceful environment in a new location helped clear my head and gave me the do-over I hadn't known I needed. I woke this morning with a strengthened resolve I hoped to carry with me for the rest of our journey.

"I've been thinking," I said as I swapped sword for knife and headed down the first driveway with Cruz, "and I've done a mental reset to make the rest of the trip easier on me—and you by default, I guess."

"How do you mean?" He'd washed up in the backyard this morning and thrown on dark jeans and a flannel shirt, leaving the top couple of buttons open just to torture me. He looked clean and fresh, his dark hair damp and glistening in the early morning light. His stubble had grown to the point of being scruff now, and my God, I wanted to run my hands over it—or him in general—and here he was chatting about my mental state like he had no idea of his effect on me.

"I've accepted what happened in Melbourne,” I said, “and I understand how it is now—how it needs to be."

When the pandemic went from bad to catastrophic, I’d seen so many shocking sights, but we were all just doing our best to survive a horrific time that none of us had ever encountered before. Yesterday had been an eye-opener for me in all the worst ways. News reports used to drum into us we were all in this together, and while that may have been an effective strategy for keeping people focused on the positive back then, it just wasn't true anymore.

Now we were fighting over territory and treating people like possessions.

When it came to strangers, there was no we. It was all me, me, me.

We walked around the back of the property, and Cruz frowned as his gaze swept over our surroundings. "And how does it need to be?" The door was locked, so he cracked the glass panel with the butt of his knife, keeping his eyes on me as he reached through to flick the catch.

I followed him inside and closed the door behind me, stopping to take in the room.

The interior had a musty smell to it rather than one of decomposing flesh. I passed a timber dining table surrounded by four black chairs and went straight into the adjoining lounge room. The home was sparsely decorated, with no knickknacks or pictures on the walls, giving the impression the owners had run out of time to get properly settled in; another example of unrealised potential, a life that had never been fully enjoyed.

I turned to face Cruz. Until we met, my separation from the chaos outside my doors gave me the freedom to avoid deciding who to trust and who to let into my life. I hadn't spoken to anyone other than Haruto in all that time, and my focus had strictly been on keeping us both safe. No one else mattered.

"Meaning that from now on, I'm matching my energy to the person in front of me," I said as we went about clearing each room. "If they give off positive vibes and keep a respectable distance from me like you did in the beginning, they'll get my good side."

Our search ended in the master bedroom at the rear of the house. We dropped our backpacks on the floor, intending to search the cupboards while we were here. I hoped to find at least one top and a pair of pants in my size, so I could change out of the clothes I’d been running around in all day yesterday.

"And if they don't?" he asked, sheathing his knife.

I tucked my knife away, too, and planted my hands on my hips. "They'll say hello to my little tantō."

Cruz's low laughter filled the room and his gaze passed over me, lingering in places I'd never seen him visit before we kissed.

I ignored the tingle of awareness that moved through me and lifted my chin. "I'm serious." I wouldn't let myself feel bad anymore for hurting people who had nefarious intentions, especially when all they needed to do to avoid a confrontation with me was leave me the fuck alone. It was truly that simple.

His dark eyes turned warm with affection. "I know."

I frowned. "So, why are you laughing?"

He wandered over to the chest of drawers and picked up a framed wedding photo, taking in a picture of a smiling couple who had no clue how much their lives were going to change. "I'm just trying to figure out why that turns me on… and what that says about me."

The mixture of emotions that flooded my body left me lost for words. "Oh."

When he looked up from the photo and locked eyes with me, a thrill streaked through me.

The humour and desire in his expression reminded me of the old days when life was more about living than surviving, and death and devastation hadn't been waiting outside our doors. He made me feel feminine and… normal for the first time since the pandemic had upended our lives.

But if witnessing my violent side was doing it for him, he must have been semi turned on the entire time we were together. "Want me to punch something? Stab a pillow? Tell me what you need."

He smiled as he looked me over, and I could have sworn the temperature climbed a few degrees. "You, Olivia . I just need you."

Every part of me heated to the point of being unbearable. The way he said my name in that intimate tone might have been inappropriate if other people had been in the room with us. My heart filled with so many emotions. Excitement, tenderness, relief. It was just so nice to be desired again and feel nervous around a ridiculously attractive man who challenged me and made me feel safe. "I'm right here, Cruz."

Uncertain times were ahead of us. Neither of us knew whether we'd still be alive when the sun set each day. While we were safe here in a quiet house on a deserted street, I wanted to search for little pieces of joy wherever I could find them.

He returned the frame to its previous position and kept his steady, thoughtful gaze on me, but he didn't make a move in my direction. "Bad idea, querida. "

My heartbeat quickened as I wandered over to the bed. I avoided the multitude of decorative pillows and perched on the edge of the mattress, resting my hands in my lap. "Why?"

"That kiss last night was…" He glanced past me toward the window, then his eyes came back to mine. "Problematic."

My brows shot up, but when I picked up on his reluctant humour, I instantly relaxed. "What problems did it create for you other than the one I felt when I was sitting on your lap?"

His sudden breath of laughter brought a smile to my face. "Why don't I show you, and we'll see if you think it's a problem, too?"

Wait. What did that mean? The roughness of his voice set off a shiver inside me, and I held my breath as he came toward me. He strolled across the room like a lion stalking its prey, and my stomach bottomed out as I tilted my head to keep holding his gaze. It was equal parts exciting and terrifying to discover someone could have this much power over the inner workings of my body.

When he reached me, Cruz leaned down without warning and shoved his hand under my butt, scooping me up like it was nothing and depositing me in the centre of the bed. I couldn't remember ever being manhandled like this, and I gasped in surprise, smiling as I landed on my back.

He climbed over me, letting his big body hover over mine, and my humour died a quick death. Warmth rushed through me and skated across my skin. My breathing hitched, and I braced myself for the most thrilling moment I’d experienced in years.

With one hand resting beside my head, Cruz ran his other palm up my thigh, smiling a little at the shallow breath I inhaled. I stared up at him, mesmerised, wondering how far he'd take it now that we were both in a better place.

His hand slid over my stomach and grazed my breast with a featherlight touch that shouldn't have had me squirming in the way it did. Before I could get too caught up in that sensation, he cupped my cheek and leaned in until his mouth was almost on mine. Just a breath away, and so tempting I wanted to lift my head and close the gap.

"What do you feel?" he asked.

God. Too much . His heat, his soft breaths whispering over my skin. His closeness, and the realisation that he could never be close enough. The world around us disappeared and all I could focus on were his words, his mouth. I wanted every part of him touching every part of me. "You."

He left a trail of soft pecks over my cheek, then a series of light, sucking kisses down my neck. When I tilted my head to invite more, his jaw grazed my skin like sandpaper and I pulled in a shuddering breath, hoping I wouldn’t do or say anything to embarrass myself.

"What do you smell?" he asked, touching his lips to the underside of my chin.

I didn't know where these questions were coming from, but I played along out of curiosity. Struggling through the haze of desire, I picked up on the mint of his toothpaste, the scent of shampoo in his still-damp hair, along with his heady, unique maleness. My forever favourite smell. "You."

Cruz lifted his head and gave me a vague smile, then his mouth took mine without hesitation. Surprised, I clung to him and made a desperate sound in the back of my throat.

There was no easy slide into the kiss this time around, no tentative touches or sweetness like we’d shared last night. He went for shock value, and I found myself thankful for his decision as exhilaration flooded me.

He lowered his body until the glorious weight of him rested on me, pressing me deeper into the mattress. When his tongue made one long, lazy sweep inside my mouth, I couldn't for the life of me see the problem he'd mentioned. I gripped his hair and arched my breasts into his chest, keeping up with his pace, kissing him back to release all the pent-up frustration I tried so hard to contain around him.

Our mouths moved together as our bodies aligned, and when my legs parted, his hips sank between them as if they’d found their way home. Feeling him pressed up against me, his hardness a tempting promise of things to come, I let out a sharp breath through my nose and kissed him with more force. His belt clashed with mine. Our buckles clinked together, and his hatchet somehow got tangled with my sword. We were wearing too much of everything, but I didn't want to let go of him to take any of it off.

Just when we were teetering on the brink of control, he pulled away and pressed his cheek to mine. "What do you hear?" he asked, his voice deep and strained beside my ear, his breaths coming quicker than they were only seconds ago.

"Your breaths, my weird noises," I said, feeling him smile against my skin. "My heart beating way too fast… and the voice in my head begging you not to stop."

Rather than answer me, Cruz rose on his elbows and let me take in his features. We stared at each other with a tense kind of silence hovering between us, heavy with unspoken words. "And what do you see?" he finally asked, his gaze filled with a mix of heat and affection.

What did I see?

Soft eyes, lips slightly reddened from our kiss, a strong jaw covered in whiskers. He was such a beautiful man, in the most masculine kind of way. Part of me wanted to forget all about our mission to reach Bridgehill and hole up with him here for days. Weeks. Spend all that time making each other feel alive. "You." I drew a shaky breath, and then it all clicked into place with a rush of heart-stopping clarity. "Just you. That's all I see."

Cruz swept his thumb across my brow and down my temple. He kissed me again, slowly, stroking his tongue over mine, grinding his hips against me in an unhurried way that made me restless and needy. I wanted to tear off his clothes. Mine too. Remove every physical barrier between us—but he stopped and pulled back to look into my eyes. "See what I'm getting at now?"

Most definitely problematic. I wanted to disagree, to come up with a clever argument to tear his viewpoint apart, but the whole time he was touching and kissing me, every one of my senses had been locked on him. Complete tunnel vision. Someone could have crept up on us at any stage and I wouldn't have had a clue.

It was dangerous and reckless—and holding off on taking it further only made it slightly less so because we still had to deal with the sexual chemistry that followed us everywhere.

" Nooooo ," I said, drawing it out to show how painful it was to admit. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, locking him against me in a last ditched attempt to keep him close. It wasn't an easy move with our belts and weapons in the way, which only made it more obvious that he was right. Dammit. This was so unfair. To get intimate— truly intimate—we needed to strip away all our clothes and weapons, leaving us physically vulnerable if something unexpected happened.

Cruz let me keep him captive for a while, then lifted himself up on his elbows. "You're not missing much anyway," he said, kissing the tip of my nose. "I haven't been with anyone in years. It'd be over in seconds."

A strange combination of feelings took hold of me. Respect, admiration, and an attraction so strong it knocked the breath out of me. A Do Not Touch sign had just been slapped on the most appealing man ever. Here’s the perfect guy for you, Liv —everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more—but you can’t have him, okay? It sucked, and at the same time was so utterly, unbelievably hot to be told no by a man who wanted nothing more than to say yes.

I risked another soft, sweet peck on his lips. "The best thirty seconds of my life."

Cruz made a low groaning sound in his throat and kissed me again—hard—stirring to life long-dormant feelings, a side of me I thought had been lost forever to this new, harsh world. "You're not making this easy," he murmured beside my mouth.

He should try seeing it from my side. I wasn't the smouldering, sexy one with all the muscles and the gorgeous brown eyes. The amount of restraint I had to dig deep and find surely deserved some kind of formal recognition.

He lifted his head and looked at me as if he wanted to memorise every feature. A long stretch of silence passed between us, and an overwhelming rush of softness and warmth moved through me. It could have been the feeling of being truly seen for the first time in too long, or just the joy of experiencing an intimate human interaction in a world that now belonged to the dead.

Whatever it was, I treasured the moment—and him.

“Well, what the hell do we do now?” I threw my hands out beside me on the mattress, lost and confused.

“Focus on the goal and try to ignore what’s going on between you and me?”

I sighed. “You say that like it’s easy. Maybe it is for you.”

The side of his mouth kicked up in the most appealing smile. "Hardly. I want to be inside you more than I want to take my next breath—and when we meet people we can trust, when we can finally let down our guards, I'm coming for you, querida ."