Page 55 of Once Upon an Apocalypse

A series of bangs interrupt our miniscule moment of relief. The freshies didn’t slow down their sprint as they approached the car, running full speed into the solid metal. But that doesn’t stop them from trying to pound their way inside.

We are safe enough. Zombies might be able to move quickly, but they aren’t strong enough to punch through the metal of a car. Amos takes hold of my rifle and places it on the back seat of the car after turning the safety on. I slip off the belt and holster holding my hand gun, handing it to Amos, who tosses it back into the duffle bag. Instead of climbing back to the front of the car, we collapse onto the floor of the trunk.

Before I can take a sigh of relief, Amos’ lips crash into mine, his tongue pushing its way inside my mouth. The warmth of him is gone a moment later, just as I was about to ravish his lips back.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Lori. This is not the time for—”

I throw my body at him, claiming his lips for myself to shut him up from saying something rational. I don’t care that our car is surrounded. I need Amos’ lips on mine.

“I need you inside me,” I whisper against his lips. And in a pleading voice, I add, “Now.”

Amos deepens the kiss, pressing himself firmly against my body, as he wraps my legs around his hips. “Fuck, Lori.” Amos pulls out of our heated embrace. “I am not done with you, but we really need to get out of here.”

The sound of banging brings me back to reality. Right. Zombie swarm. I press a gentle kiss on his lips before hopping carefully over the back seat and into the passenger seat. Amos slides into the driver’s seat a moment later. With the car turned on, we slowly make our way out of the horde and off to safe ground.

Chapter 35

Ipressmyhandsagainst the shower walls as the cold water hits my flesh like a thousand needles at high speed. It’s a welcome feeling. A stark difference from the molten flesh Amos turned me into just a couple of hours ago. As we drove in silence toward Lancaster and The Manor House community, my skin burned for him. Every minute was torture not having his hands on me.

But with the threat of a zombie horde and possible ambush by the Praetorian Guard, we needed to focus on getting to a secure place for the night. And Amos needed to check on The Manor House to see if it had been attacked by Doctore’s men. It took longer than usual to arrive at our destination, according to Amos. As we drove through Lancaster, it was obvious that it had been ransacked recently. The make-shift walls around the community had been blown up and a few houses near the perimeter were still smoking from a fire.

Dread filled my veins again at the thought of Doctore and his men being so close to me. They were here. They had swept through like they were on a mission of vengeance and destroyed this survivor community. A community that worked in tandem with The Valley to keep as many people alive and safe from the many dangers of our new world. My thoughts immediately turned to The Valley. What if Doctore was heading there next? Would our people be safe?

After seeing all the destruction and finding no survivors, Amos drove us outside the ruins of the community walls and found a house still intact for us to spend the night since the sun had begun to set.

Driving at night is never a good idea, as the lights of the car would attract unwanted attention from both the living and the dead. After confirming the house was empty, we grabbed all our gear from the car and barricaded ourselves inside the abandoned house, taking turns to eat and shower.

I turn off the nozzle, instantly shivering from the cold water, chilling me to my bones. Amos had left a towel on the sink for me. I grab it, wrapping it tightly around my body. But it’s frayed and fragile, likely from years of disuse. All it’s really good for is dusting. So I throw it off and search for my clothes, but they’re nowhere in sight.

“Amos!” I shout. “Where are my clothes?”

No answer.

“Amos!”

Goddamn him. If he’s playing a game with me, I’m not letting him win. But I really don’t want to walk around this house naked. I pick up the raggedy towel, attempting to cover myself up enough, then stalk out the bathroom door in search of my clothes. Amos steals my attention in the bedroom across from the bathroom. He’s sprawled on the bed, completely naked.

My towel slips from my grasp and I fumble to put it back in place, which makes Amos laugh. A deep, sultry laugh that has my skin melting again. How I want him to touch my skin with that laugh. With that mouth. With that tongue. As if sensing my thoughts, Amos rolls over on his side and gives me a look I can’t say no to. My feet walk on their own, called to him like he’s a goddamn siren or something.

“Do you still want your clothes, Copperhead?” Amos smiles at me as I approach the edge of the bed. I shake my head and let him tear the towel from my grasp. Getting on his knees, he towers over me on the bed as he takes in every inch of my nakedness.

Before I can cover myself up with my hands, Amos grabs my waist and throws me around him on the bed. A breath later, his head is in between my thighs, his tongue licking and sucking every sensitive fold of skin. I shiver, not from the cold, but because my nerves are on fire. I have never felt so alive.

Amos takes his time devouring me, sliding a finger in to stretch me open for him. When his tongue flicks my clit at the same time a second finger slams into my core, I lose focus. Everything around me stills. Time itself is non-existent. There is only Amos. His fingers. His tongue. His moans of delight at tasting the most intimate part of my body.

The orgasm he gives me from his fingers and tongue is like nothing I have ever experienced. It leaves me panting and hungry for more. Hungry for him. I try to squirm away from him, my overstimulated body battling for more relief. Amos grabs the sides of my sex-hungry body and pulls me closer to his mouth. His hands tighten around my hips as he lifts me up with him so I’m hanging upside down, my legs wrapped around his neck. Not for one second does he loosen his hold on me or take a breath away from my body.

I need him inside me. Not just his fingers and tongue, I need his dick. I try to turn myself in a way where I can access any part of him, but he holds me firmly against his chest, unwilling to detach his mouth from devouring me.

“Amos,” I moan. “Amos, please. I need to touch you. I need more of you.”

His answer is to push his two fingers back inside me, pumping harder and deeper this time until I scream his name. “Amos!”

“If you want something more, you’ll have to fight for it, Copperhead,” Amos says with his lips against my clit.

Before he can coax another orgasm from me. I shift my legs, lying my feet on his shoulders. I test my balance, placing my hands on the bed and pushing myself harder against his mouth, which causes a delightful moan to fall into my entrance. The movement also causes Amos to loosen his grip enough for me to push out of his arms. He falls backward on the bed as I flip around, quickly mounting myself over his hips.

A wicked smile etches into the corner of his lips and he grabs my hands before I can make my next move. All I can do is roll my hips, pinning his hard length between his stomach and my soaked thighs.

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