Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
NAV
Movement in the window above distracted me from the fleeing infected. I stopped at the sight of Arena standing there, her pale skin bright against the dark room behind her. All of her focus was on me. Not the infected running away. Not the shirt in my hand. Just me.
Hope and yearning expanded in my chest.
Smiling, I waved and gestured to the shirt I held.
She nodded, not looking away. That ache in my chest grew.
Arena liked to watch me.
I started moving again, noticing the way her gaze dipped to my hard cock.
She had stared at it for a long time after waking too.
At first, I’d thought she was afraid of it.
But then she’d admitted she was only uncomfortable showing her breasts.
Humans liked to cover themselves, and I was relieved she only wanted to cover her top and not her bottom.
As I sprinted up the stairs, I heard the infected trying to get into our room.
Setting the shirt aside, I made a soft sound to attract its attention and watched it turn.
Infected had no interest in my brothers or me once they realized we were hunters, not prey. This one wasn’t sure yet and moved a few steps away from the door. That was all I needed.
I grabbed it by the neck and pulled it farther away. After tossing the body and head outside, I returned for the shirt.
Arena would not be able to stay here for long.
The building had too many rooms and too many ways for the infected to get in.
She would be safer if I could move her to a home with a fenced yard.
Would she be willing to move away from the water, though?
I would need to think of a way to help her companions find her again when they returned for her.
The door opened at my approach, and Arena studied me with her big brown eyes.
I smiled, careful not to show my teeth—our sharper canines scared females—and held out the shirt.
Her gaze dipped briefly, skimming over my chest and shoulders. I liked the way she looked at me. Like she was truly seeing me.
“You have a little blood on you,” she said.
I glanced down at myself and saw that I did.
“I’ll go wash,” I assured her.
“Take your time.” She accepted the shirt and watched me leave.
I listened to the latch protest as she slid it into place. She would be more comfortable in a home with doors that locked and had heat. One with solar panels, a woodstove, and working water would be ideal.
After washing with the lake water in the next room, I returned to the hall. The door did not open at my approach.
“Arena?” I called.
“Were you bitten?” she asked.
“No. The infected usually do not bite me.”
She remained silent for a moment. “Do you have any open wounds?”
I understood then. “You think I will turn stupid. I promise I will not. My brothers and I are immune to their bites. We can wait fifteen minutes, if it makes you feel safer, but no longer than that. I can hear your teeth tapping. They are impatient for me to warm you.”
On the other side of the door, I heard her walking back and forth. Was she trying to warm herself, or was she impatient for me to join her?
I hoped it was impatience. I wanted to hold her again and feel her softness.
“The shirt is a little small,” she said after a few more steps. “Was there anything bigger?”
“Yes, but they would have covered too much.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.”
“I will be able to warm you faster if more skin is exposed.”
“Skin to skin is for when a person’s hypothermic. I’m not hypothermic. Clothes will keep me warm.”
“A shirt will not be enough to do that,” I said, wondering again how she had survived so long. “You will still need me. Are fifteen minutes up?”
The pacing on the other side of the door continued.
“Not yet. What information do you want?”
Relieved she was no longer interested in a longer shirt, I asked what I had been wondering since helping her out of the water.
“How have you survived? Where do you live? Are there more women like you and the females on the boat?”
The movement on the other side of the door stopped.
“What about something else?” she asked. “Like the best locations to find supplies in this town?”
“I already know where to find supplies.”
“What do you need then?”
“Females.”
“No deal,” she said quickly. “I’m not a human trafficker. Pick something else.”
Trafficker?
I knew what it meant for humans to take and trade other humans and felt a heaviness settle in my chest. Was that how Arena had survived?
Had other humans taken her and her companions?
If so, she would not want to rejoin them.
It also explained her hesitation with me.
She didn’t know that I wasn’t like the males who’d taken her.
I would never trade her. I wanted to protect her. Keep her warm and safe and fed.
Would she believe me if I told her that? Unlikely. Humans did not trust easily. Until she understood my heart, she would not accept my help saving her companions.
“Then tell me about the things you like,” I said.
“What I like? What do you mean?”
“Your favorite color, food…anything that makes you happy.”
She moved behind the door, and I knew she was looking at me through the little glass hole.
“My favorite color is teal, a deep jewel-toned teal. And I love—loved—pizza. I miss it.”
I nodded, knowing it would not be easy to find her favorite food. But I could find many things that were her favorite color.
“Thank you. Is my time up?”
The latch made an angry sound, and then the door swung open. She stood before me, bare, welcoming. So beautiful.
I glanced at the shirt on the floor behind her. She had rejected it, preferring me.
Relieved, I pulled her into my arms—her softness welcomed me—and smoothed a hand down her back. She said she was not hypothermic, but her skin felt too cold. Did she not understand how to keep herself warm?
The thought barely formed when she sighed softly and rested her cheek against my chest. Smart female. She knew. Her little hands settled on my sides, tiny ice blocks that desperately needed somewhere warm to rest before they turned blue like her lips.
I carried her to the bed and pulled back the covers. She tensed slightly in my hold and tried to climb off me as I lay down, but I kept her in my arms, centering her slight weight on top of me. She remained stiff and unyielding as I stroked her back, just like the first time.
“You got too cold again,” I said, nuzzling the top of her head, hoping my warmth would help relax her.
I loved the way it felt when she relaxed on top of me. Like she owned me. If I had a choice, we would never sleep any other way.
Keeping my strokes unhurried and even, I slowly warmed her back. She shivered, her fisted hands tucked tightly against her sides, her forearms pressed into my chest. After a few moments, she let out a shuddering exhale and opened her hands, fanning her fingers out over my skin, taking my heat.
I knew she needed more. Her toes had not warmed at all.
“Tuck your feet under my legs,” I said.
She opened her legs without hesitation, but then tensed. It hurt to see her fear rob her of the trust she wanted to give. I gripped her thighs, keeping them pinned to my hips when she would have closed them again.
“Keep going,” I encouraged. “Tuck your feet so they can warm.”
Her breathing sped, and her feet stayed where they were. I smoothed my hands down the length of her legs and lifted my hips to tuck her feet underneath my thighs.
My cock tapped the crevice of her inviting backside.
We both froze. I had not meant for that to happen. Would she yell? Slap me? Never speak to me again.
I realized two things. She didn’t want a longer shirt for warmth, but for protection. And she was holding her breath.
“Breathe, Arena. You are safe. I am giving you my heat without asking for anything in return. Relax. I understand my mistake. Tomorrow I will find you better clothing so you feel safer.”
Her inhale hitched. Was she afraid of me now?
I skimmed a hand up her calf and hip, then along her back, showing her that I was safe. That I would not take what she was not willing to give.
Pass after pass, her breathing slowly returned to normal, and she softened on top of me.
She moved her feet underneath me, seeking a new, warmer spot for them. I lifted my hips to accommodate her.
My cock slapped her backside again.
She froze.
I kept moving my hand steadily over her skin as I settled my weight on her feet once more.
She cleared her throat. “I think I’m warm enough to eat.”
I lifted my arms, indicating the choice to stay or leave was hers—she was warm enough for a while at least.
She slid off of me, her thigh catching on my cock like last time.
I watched her hurry to the shirt on the floor and forgot how to breathe when she bent over to retrieve it.
Finally.
Finally, I saw what I had been dreaming of seeing.
Arena had the prettiest pussy ever.