Page 48 of Once Upon an Apocalypse

“Do you think I’m stupid?” I yell at him, pushing him over and over until he’s against a wall. He doesn’t fight back, doesn’t even try to stop me.

“Lori, what are you talking about?” The confusion on his face infuriates me for some reason.

“You think I’m weak?”

“No. Lori, where is this coming from?”

“Have you been lying to me, Amos? Because if I find out that you have, that I’m just here for your amusement…I can’t…” Words. I can’t find the right words because what I’m saying is nonsense fuelled by irrational anger. Instead of finding better words, I push against Amos’ chest again. This time, he holds my hands in place.

“Lori, I don’t know what brought on this outburst, but you know I would never lie to you. I care about you. I…” Amos looks away, as if words have also escaped him.

“What about Katie? She said you are toying with me like you used to do to her. What did she mean by that?”

“Katie. This is about Katie?” Amos laughs, not in a mocking way but as if he’s relieved by my crazy thoughts. “The most I’ve ever spoken to Katie was that night she locked you in your room.”

“But she said—”

“Whatever she said,” Amos says, “was a lie. She wanted to rile you up. You let her win.”

“So you do think I’m weak.” The words come out as a statement, not a question. I try to pull my hands from Amos’ chest, but he holds them tight, unwilling to let go.

“Never once have I thought you weak. Never. Lori, you are the strongest person I’ve ever met. You know that. You killed a biter with a vibrator. Fucking badass.” His smile lights a flame of sanity, bringing me out of the cloudy anger Katie so easily put me in. How did she get me so angry so fast? Amos. She was trying to get me jealous and yeah, it worked.

“What are you thinking about, Copperhead.” Amos’ playful voice makes me want to do bad things. But I can’t. He’s my friend. My trainer. My roommate. He might care about me. He might flirt with me. That doesn’t mean he wants me. I think that’s what Katie was trying to unplug inside me. If that’s true, then she’s smarter than anyone gives her credit for.

“I wish I could hate you. It would make everything so much easier,” I mutter.

“Hate me? Why do you want to hate me?” Amos releases my hands as he looks deep into my eyes, trying to figure me out while giving me the space I need.

Instead of letting my hands fall to my side, I lightly grip Amos’ shirt. Fuck it. I launch myself up, smashing my lips against his. An instant later, Amos’ hands are on my ass, hoisting me up to wrap my legs around his waist. He kisses me back with a hunger that makes me want to give myself to him to feast on. I yelp as he spins with me still in his arms, walking us to his bedroom.

My back hits a wall before he breaks our kiss. I try to pull him back to me, but he stops me. “Lori, I need to know that you want this, that you want me before we go any further. Because if we do this, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

I reach for the door, slam it shut, and turn the bolt. Taking my cue, Amos resumes devouring my lips and tongue while walking us over to the bed. He gently lays me down, moving his kisses to my throat, my collarbone, the peaks of my breasts through my shirt, torturing me as he makes his way down past my belly button.

There are no words for how much I need this man right now. No words for how turned on I am that this strong, powerful, gorgeous man is kneeling before me as if he worships the very air I breathe. Breath I hold in as I watch his fingers unloop the button on my gaucho jeans. Breath I let out when he pulls the zipper of my jeans down with one hand and with his other hand, slides up my t-shirt.

Since I’m not wearing a bra, Amos has full access to my breasts. And he uses his access well, swirling the tip of my nipple with his thumb as he places feather-light kisses on my stomach. The sensation has me reeling. Never have I felt so much. Yet somehow, I need more. I want to explode from this feeling.

Just when I am about to burst into a euphoric oblivion, a loud, frantic knock pounds through my ears, bringing me back to myself. Amos ignores the sounds, shifting his hand to my other breast. My body tries to release itself from my brain to fall back into that euphoria, but my mind is now occupied with the insistent knocking.

“Amos,” I whisper anxiously.

“Go away,” Amos shouts at the door.

“Can’t do that, sir. You are needed for an emergency meeting of leadership,” Kyle responds in his best soldier boy voice.

“Fuck.” Amos’ hand is still latched to my breast, unwilling to let go. I don’t want him to let go either. I place my hand over his, pushing it harder into me. With more desperation in his voice, Amos says again, “Fuck.”

Kyle knocks again. “Is everything okay, Amos?”

“Yeah, Kyle. Just give me a minute,” Amos shouts toward the door. When he turns back toward me, his face is full of longing. He wants this as much as I do, but duty calls him away. “You were close, weren’t you? I could feel it. If you need the release, I can get you there in a few minutes. But that’s not enough time for me to do everything I want to do to you.”

“Wow, so confident in your skills, huh?” I giggle, then sit up to straighten my shirt. “I do need the release. I’d rather do the everything with you though.”

A devilish smile curls a corner of Amos’ mouth. As I lean in to kiss that smirk, Amos zips up my jeans, securing the button using only one hand. When he stands up, he has to straighten himself out.

Kyle knocks again, shifting Amos’ composure to stiff anger. “We’re coming. Fuck off, Kyle.”

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