“If you want me to stop…” His voice was soft in the darkness.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
She lay back on the bed, and he covered her body almost immediately, his mouth seeking hers, devouring her. His body was so warm, even in the chilly bedroom air, and the satin fabric of the sheets gentle underneath her bare back and buttocks as he entered her.
She moaned against his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and clung to him as he thrust inside her again and again. His intensity increased with each movement, and she felt overwhelmed and delirious, wanting more of him.
She wanted to cry out, but didn’t.
She clung to him instead, breathing him in, and wondered why she had waited so long.
The blanket rested next to her, but she didn’t reach for it. His body, already heated before sex, was like an oven afterward. She lay on top of him, letting his body heat warm her against the cool air. She could see his breath, forming a mist as soon as it left his lips.
She listened to the eerie nothingness around them, outside the house. Her ears tuned in to every rustling of the wind, creaking floorboards, and falling leaves. She tried to concentrate on the feel of him against her, her breasts crushed down against his warm chest, neither one of them caring about appearances.
She felt satisfied for the first time in a long time.
“What did you do before all of this?” he asked softly.
“Why?”
“I’m curious. I’m going to guess construction worker, but I might be wrong.”
“Close,” she smiled. “I made commercials.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Not really.” She sighed. “You don’t realize how utterly pointless your career choice is until the world crumbles, and all the skills you spent so much time learning in order to be the best in your field become instantly useless.”
Will chuckled in the darkness. “You make a lot of money doing something like that?”
“More than a cop.”
“Ouch.”
She laughed softly. “Let me ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“I’ve always wanted to know. Do they pay you extra for being in SWAT?”
“Enough to order two Whoppers instead of one.”
“Impressive.”
“I could definitely go for a Whopper right about now.”
“Would you buy me one?”
“Why stop at one—”
A clacking noise from the street below them cut him short.
He reached for his Glock on the nightstand as she immediately climbed off him and slid across the bed to reach for her own holstered weapon on the floor. When she looked up, he was already at the window. She marveled at the way he moved — silently, like some kind of apparition.
She followed him and looked down into the street. In the moonlight she could see a rolling Coke can, aluminum scratching loudly against the asphalt. It was a small sound — insignificant, but it might as well be fireworks in this new existence.
Will pointed at something. A ghoul appeared from a bush across the street, watching with dark eyes as the can rolled past. Satisfied it wasn’t prey, it disappeared back behind the bush.
Dead, not stupid.
Will was smiling at her. She smiled back.
They were both standing naked in the dark holding guns. Utterly absurd and incomprehensible a few weeks ago, but tonight, in this abandoned house with an undead creature across the street, perfectly normal.
“You look cold,” he whispered.
She could feel her nipples standing erect in front of him. “You look pretty cold yourself.”
Will glanced down, then back at her. “I could change that in a hurry. You could help.”
“I bet that kind of sweet talk gets all the girls hot and bothered.”
He reached over and took her hand. She let him lead her back to the bed. They put their guns on the nightstand, and she pushed him down on the ruffled sheets and climbed on top. He cupped her breasts. Her nipples were fully erect and hard, and his touch sent all kinds of sensations through her.
“You have beautiful tits,” he said. “And yes, I do say that to all the girls.”
Kate reached back and held him against her palm. She lifted her body slightly up and guided him inside her. He moaned in the darkness. She leaned down and sought out his lips and kissed him hard, the way he had kissed her in the hallway.
He pushed his hands through her unruly long hair and held her mouth tightly to his. He lifted himself off the bed in time to her movements. She reached orgasm faster when on top, and she could sense it coming now. It had to be the moment. The here and now, the threat of the ghoul below, and the soundless night around them.
She opened her eyes, looked down at him. She moved faster, and he responded with urgency.
She came in waves and bit down on her lip to keep her cries from escaping into the cold air. He grabbed her waist and reversed their positions. The satin sheets rubbed against her back and buttocks as he thrust inside her until he, too, came, stifling his own moans against her mouth. He tasted hot and sweet and salty.
They slept the rest of the night with her body splayed on top of his, his arms around her, holding her tight. She wasn’t sure if he slept at all, but she felt his warm breath against her and the slow beating of his heart, and for a brief moment she convinced herself that things might not be so bad after all, that maybe there was something of a chance for them.
The thought lasted until the sun came up a few hours later, when they had to untangle and go face the reality outside.
CHAPTER 20
WILL
Harold Campbell was a paranoid rich man with too much time on his hands. He was perpetually afraid the United States government was going to raze his mansions — word was he had more than one, possibly three or four, depending on who you asked — or send the vicious hound dogs of the IRS after him on some trumped-up charge. One day, it occurred to Campbell that the only way to defend himself from the government was to build an underground facility that could, conceivably, withstand a nuclear strike. Unless, of course, the nuke landed directly on top of the place, and then, yeah, he’d probably go right along with the rest of humanity. Harold Campbell was paranoid, but he wasn’t stupid, after all.
Will knew about Campbell’s flights of fancy, because he had spent two weeks trying to learn the construction business from a friend, before eventually deciding he’d rather spend his time kicking in doors and shooting bad guys instead. That friend was Tom Lerner, a fellow Ranger he and Danny knew from their time in Afghanistan. Lerner’s family business was one of many contracted to build Campbell’s underground survival lair.
Will spent two weeks helping Lerner’s family pour concrete and install electrical components around the facility. He also spied bits and pieces of the floor plans, enough to know that he and the Lerners were building only a small portion of the structure, that there were many others at work elsewhere, a small army of builders coming and going, and more still waiting to start their phase.
The place had multiple layers and redundancies, all designed to withstand and survive a prolonged assault. Will had never met Campbell himself — no one had, according to Tom — though every now and then he saw one of Campbell’s assistants walking around with a video camera sending live feeds to their boss back…well, wherever it was Campbell spent his days. He was never on scene, but he was nevertheless always there. Sort of.