Chapter 29
Jordan
It took me hours to get my fill of Kate. Once I scented her blood, the beast rushed forward, demanding it. Frothing at the mouth for it.
I only had a millisecond to worry about hurting her before I was ripping at her clothes with desperation.
Part of me knew I wouldn’t actually harm her, though I can’t explain why.
The virus should be demanding that I sink my fangs into her, to infect her, but the frenzy her blood sent me into was not one to rip her apart.
We lie in the grass, Kate a boneless mess beside me, her previous bad mood forgiven and forgotten between us.
I only stopped once I saw tears running down her face, her mind completely shut off from pleasure.
She was babbling, asking for more while begging for reprieve.
I didn’t count how many orgasms I pulled from her body, but it was enough to make her flop on the grass beside me once I released her.
If I didn’t have sharpened senses, I would assume she’s dead.
She hasn’t moved, her eyes closed and chest barely rising and falling.
Still, a paranoid part of me has me leaning over her, pressing my ear to her chest. Under my ear, the healthy lub-dub of her heart swirls in my brain.
A content sigh leaves me as I listen, letting myself relax for the first time in a very long time.
Shockingly, no bad memories have come to the surface while touching her this way. It’s almost like having the upper hand—dominating her—keeps the feel of the infected in the cave away.
When she mentioned touching me, though, dread filled my veins.
Kate takes a deep breath as she murmurs something incoherent. I lift my head to look at her. Her eyes are barely open as she tries again. “Jordan.”
Hearing my name on her lips is like being struck by lightning. “Yes?”
She shuts her eyes and tilts her head back, letting the weak evening sunlight dance across her skin. I stare at her for a few moments, transfixed. It’s like we’re stuck in time, no worries, no apocalyptic virus, no crumbling city. Just two people, existing together.
But we both know we can’t have that.
I force myself to sit up. “We should move, Kate,” I murmur, despite my body screaming at me to lie the fuck back down.
She shifts a bit, her captivating eyes opening. Blinking a few times as if coming back to her physical body, she rises slowly. Her hair is mussed, a few loose strawberry strands falling across her shoulders. Her eyes ensnare mine, and I watch as they sharpen, curiosity lighting in them.
“Why don’t I ever get to touch you?”
Her question completely throws me off guard. I take a sharp inhale. “You do.”
It’s not exactly a lie—her hands have been on my body before. But I know that’s not what she means.
She shakes her head, more strands breaking free of their prison of the braid. “You’re always the one touching me, pleasuring me. I never get to do the same to you.” She tilts her head, her mind whirring behind her forest eyes. “Why?”
I try to ignore the anxiety scratching at my bones, my muscles, looking to consume everything. “I enjoy doing it.” Also not a lie, but not a real answer. Shame slides through my veins like oil.
“Jordan—”
“We need to get moving,” I interrupt, shifting to shove her pants back on. “I have an extra shirt you can use to help soak up any blood.”
Kate leans forward, getting herself dressed. I know she won’t let this go, but I can’t talk about it. Not without those horrifying memories resurfacing.
I’m not ready to talk about them, to relive them. Maybe I never will be.
I stand, sifting through my backpack for the garment and ripping it into small strips.
Kate takes the strips silently. I let her get situated before slinging my pack over my shoulders and start moving.
The sound of Kate’s footsteps let me know she’s following.
She doesn’t press the issue, but I know she’ll bring it up again later.
We rush to the closest house, and I slip inside, inspecting every room for signs of infected. Kate is on my heels with her gun at the ready. Luckily, we encounter no one. We let out a collective sigh of relief, standing in the empty hall.
Our eyes lock, and I can see the questions swirling in hers. Before she can voice them, I’m racing to the front of the house, shooting something over my shoulder about catching us dinner.
I’m outside before the walls can close around me, warping into the cave walls I remember. I gulp down air, fighting the sensation of multiple bodies pressed against me, the smell of humans packed together.
I’m a few houses away before I place my hands on my knees, retching into the tall grass. My stomach fights to empty itself, my body shuddering.
I’m not there, I’m not there, I repeat to myself, trying to bring myself back. After a few moments, I stop experiencing the sounds and smells of being in that cave with the horde.
I take longer than necessary wandering down to a creek nearby, catching some fish with my bare hands.
Letting my body feel nature, feel a sense of freedom, stops me from spiraling again.
I don’t head back to the house until the sun is nearly set, my catches prepared for us to eat.
I douse the small fire I created, erasing any trace that I was here before I head back to Kate.
Dread worms under my skin as I push past the front door. Part of me wants to keep avoiding Kate, to avoid what she’s asking me to divulge. She’s already seen the horde leaving the cave. Why should I have to explain myself any further?
But as I step into the house and find her in the kitchen, the question she asked isn’t lingering in her gaze. Instead, I’m greeted by a gentle smile.
“I can’t remember the last time I’ve had fish,” she comments, her eyes dipping to our dinner in my hands.
I hold in my sigh of relief as I place the fish, wrapped in cloth from a T-shirt, onto the cracked granite counter. “I cooked it outside, so it’s ready now.”
“Thank you. I’m starving.”
She steps up behind me but doesn’t touch me as she reaches for her meal. Still, I find myself stiffening as she gets close. Kate steps back and sits at the dining table in the other room.
I chew on my bottom lip, my warring emotions making my stomach turn, as I pick up my fish and follow her, sitting across the table. Kate gives me a hesitant smile as I settle in. She obviously senses my emotions but decides not to comment on it as she starts on her dinner.
We eat in silence, neither of us ready to uncover what we ought to.