Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 15337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
But… goddamn.
I guess I was half-expecting for Caleb to have gone gaunt with the lack of truly balanced meals. Or, at the very least, that he would have lost most of his muscle tone.
I should have known better.
Because he had nice arms.
But the chest and shoulders? Wide, strong.
And that stomach? With eight perfect little sections and a deep V that disappeared into the waistband of his pants.
“I, ah, I didn’t chop off his head, remember?” I said, trying to occupy my mind with anything but his shirtlessness.
“Right. Because we were busy having our own personal meet-cute. Which, arguably, was a better way to spend the evening. Come on, be adventurous with me,” he said. “I mean, I made this luxurious bed for us.”
Yeah, that bed was part of the problem. Since it was barely big enough for two of us, which meant we would be touching all night long.
The other part of the problem was my damn sex drive that had suddenly kicked into overdrive.
“Catie,” he said, tone just a little less light and fun, just a tad deeper, sexier, making my gaze shoot up. “You’ve got to live a little,” he told me. “Even if it’s scary.”
And the thing was, he was right.
I would hate to go outside to sneak a quick bath in the stream half a block away and have a zombie take me out, knowing all I’d done for the past few years was be careful and scared and bored and lonely.
“Okay,” I agreed, lowering myself down onto the cushions, and trying not to be hyperaware of Caleb as he stretched out beside me. “I’ve never been camping,” I admitted.
“You and me, kid,” he said, sliding an arm under me. In a friendly way, but my body just didn’t take it that way, “We are going to do some fun shit. But first, sleep.”
And he did.
Sleep.
Almost instantly.
But me?
Yeah, I was up dealing with the throbbing ache between my thighs and the nearly overwhelming urge to climb on top of him to relieve it.
Eventually, exhaustion won out.
But then I woke up.
Sprawled on top of him like a pillow, my head on his chest, my hand on his shoulder, and my leg cocked over his hip.
And it didn’t exactly escape me that he was hard and pressing against me, either.
Need assaulted my system all at once, making my heart race and my sex clench hard.
I didn’t move.
I barely let myself breathe.
Because I was suddenly aware that Caleb wasn’t asleep either.
No.
He was awake.
And his hands were roaming up and down my back, sifting through my hair, then going to my back again.
He was touch-starved.
That was it.
It wasn’t anything personal.
But anyone who hadn’t seen a human being in years, let alone got to be alone and close to one, would feel the need to touch them. It was human nature to desire contact with one another.
And his cock?
Well, that was just nature too.
I doubt he’d had sex with anything but his own hand since the zombies started roaming the streets.
It was a base, primal sort of reaction.
Like the throbbing need between my own thighs.
Like my desire to feel more of him.
Letting out a fake sleeping sigh, I shifted over him until his cock was pressing against my cleft.
“Fuck,” Caleb hissed in that deeper, sexier voice he’d only used once around me.
His hips involuntarily bucked up against me, making him slide against my cleft, tease over my clit.
I couldn’t seem to find the control to force my own hips to stay still then, grinding them down onto him, letting out a little whimper at the feel of him.
“Catie,” he said in that same deep, bedroom-sexy voice. But I was busy writhing against him again. “Okay,” he murmured, voice soft as he started thrusting up against me as I continued to move, as I drove myself up, not caring about the consequences, about potentially losing my new friend because I’d let things get complicated.
All I cared about right then was relief from the need that was flooding my system, making rational thought impossible as we kept moving together, as my little whimpers became moans, as Caleb’s breathing got faster, more ragged, as he made sexy grunts of pleasure as I got closer and closer.
“Come,” he demanded, voice rough and soft somehow at the same time. “Come for me,” he demanded, his own voice getting tight as he teetered on that edge too.
His hands went to my ass, grinding me harder against him as he moved faster and faster.
I tried to muffle the sounds of my orgasm into his shoulder as his own body shuddered, finding his release.
I clung to him after.
For a few minutes, just a little too overwhelmed and more emotional than I could have anticipated. After that, though, it was just pure, undiluted, all-consuming mortification.
I mean, who dry-humped their new friend?