I finished the work I had planned for the day. I wasn't in the mood for a movie because I was feeling a little too wired given the state of things. I needed a release and since sex with Damian was off the table, it was zombie-killing time. I fired up my Xbox, checked my arsenal and got to it.
I was a little rusty but into the second hour I was on a roll. I felt fairly confident that when the zombie apocalypse came I would make a dent in them before I turned into one myself. At first I thought I'd want someone to lop off my head because who wanted to be a zombie, but then it might be cool to see what it was like. A mindless, brain addicted fiend. There were worse things to be. When my phone rang I almost didn't answer it, but it could be important. I put it on speaker.
"What the hell are you doing, having an orgy?"
"Only you, Kimber, would hear the surgical and precise sounds of a master taking out a zombie horde and mistake it for a sex fest. What's up?"
"Just called to see how you were doing."
"Why? What did you hear?"
"You are paranoid."
"No, I'm not. Someone got to you. Who? Mom?"
"She was worried, she hasn't heard from you in a few days."
"I'm fine, just releasing some tension by killing the undead. It's very therapeutic. You should try it."
"Nah, I like my method of relieving tension."
I was only half listening, so I walked right into it when I asked, "What's your method?"
"Sex and lots of it."
"Right."
"Let's get together for dinner."
"Sounds good. How about here on Friday."
"I'll call Ryder."
"Thanks, Kimber, for checking in on me."
"That's what friends are for. See you on Friday. Have fun with your brain eating friends."
The knock at the door came about two hours later and I was still killing those bastards. I hadn't eaten, except for some pretzels and canned cheese. I had also closed my blinds because the glare from the sun hurt my eyes. I looked like an insane shut-in. I paused the game and checked the door then felt my pulse jump when I saw Damian on the other side.
I yanked it open and he walked in then stopped and just stared. I didn't doubt I looked slightly wild.
"I'm killing zombies. There's no room for vanity."
"Zombies?" There was definite interest in that word.
"Are you a brother in arms? Do you also kill those brain sucking monsters?"
I realized I was talking to someone who probably killed people every day, well not every day because that's excessive. The deli man didn't put enough rare roast beef on his sandwich and so he slit his throat with the dagger he had hidden up his sleeve. I giggled at the thought.
Again I saw the humor in his eyes in response to me calling him a brother in arms. I asked, "Do you want to play?"
"Yeah."
"You do?" And that was said almost identically to how Farmer Ted said it in Sixteen Candles.
"Come on in."
He strolled into my apartment, shrugged off his leather jacket exposing the black t-shirt that just hugged his body. I wanted to be that t-shirt. I really wanted to be that t-shirt. He was wearing cargo pants and boots, he looked like a zombie killer. He reached for the controller, his arms flexed and I had to bite down on the moan. I wasn't going to be killing zombies, I was going to be watching him and wishing he were wearing me like he was that t-shirt.
He glanced over, his sign that he was ready, so I grabbed my own remote and started the game. At some point I just stopped playing because the man was … lethal. I realized it was just a game and there were countless people out there, living in the basements of their parents' home, who could kill as efficiently as Damian. But they were gamers, this man hunted for a living. His skill didn't come from hours and hours of play. It came from real life. Damian was a lethal weapon. And fear stirred in me thinking about the situations he had been in that turned him into the man he was now. That part of his life was in the past and still it was terrifying to think it could have ended very differently.
I didn't want to think about that, so I indulged myself a little. My eyes moving over his perfectly sculpted arm, the biceps and triceps, his wide shoulder and the bulging muscles of his middle back that tapered to a flat stomach. I loved the view, but I was getting turned on, so I focused back on the game. He was on a level I had never seen, would never again see without his help. I wasn't thinking about the game anymore though.
"I'm hungry. Do you want to order a pizza?" It wasn't pizza I wanted.
"Yeah."
"Pepperoni and mushroom?" I hadn't realized his attention had shifted to me, so I was surprised to look over and see him staring. "What?"
He said nothing but there was a softening around his eyes. "Yeah."
I ordered the pizza and grabbed two beers before settling back on the sofa. Given the situation I found myself in, my thoughts often detoured to Cam's investigation. "Do you think it was Miguel who killed my dad?"
"It points to him, but the pieces don't all fit."
"And so until they do you'll be looking at other possibilities."
"It's what I'm trained for."
"And we have to be careful of which cops we involve because we aren't sure who we can trust."
"Exactly."
"You gave up a lot to come back and help Cam. Thank you."
He stopped the game and turned his focus on me. "I gave up a lot when I left home all those years ago and I told you, I didn't come back for Cam."
"If that's the case, why didn't you let me know you were home?"
I couldn't quite read his expression, his gaze shifted to the floor. "I stopped by the day I got home, but you were with someone. I intended to reach out again, but the truth is I didn't like seeing you with another guy."
Another guy? There had only been the one, Ethan, and that had ended years ago. "Whoever he was, he wasn't a boyfriend. He was probably a client. I learned if I couldn't be with the one I loved, I wasn't interested."
His eyes turned back on me and I liked the hot possessive look in them.
"I want to kiss you so badly right now, so I'll get us another beer instead." I jumped from the sofa. A few minutes with my head in the freezer would help take the edge off.
I knew he had joined me because every part of my body responded to him like a mare preparing for a stallion to mount her. He pressed into me, sandwiching me between the fridge and his body, his chest to my back. He rubbed his cheek against my head, his forehead touched my shoulder and yet it was only his body holding me in place, he had yet to put his hands on me. His discipline was warring with instinct and the breath caught in my lungs as I waited to see which would win. The second his hands touched me I knew that instinct had won. He turned me into him and right before he kissed me I saw the wild look of him. He hadn't just given in to instinct; he'd given in to his baser needs. His hot, wet mouth closed over mine, his tongue driving into my mouth while his hands ripped at the barrier of my clothes. We were frantic; both of us crazed with the need to taste and touch after so long a fast. I heard the t-shirt tear before he yanked my bra down. My whole world was focused on my breasts and the need to have his hot mouth on them, but instead he lifted the key hanging from the long chain.
Pain moved into his expression when he asked, "What's this?"
"It was from my dad, his last gift to me."
Understanding replaced pain as he let the key drop back into place. He moved his hands up my body and cupped my breasts, teasing my nipples with his tongue. I was so wet and the need to rub myself against him was strong. He sucked one of my breasts into his mouth and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. He dropped to his knees, taking my sweats with him, and buried his nose between my legs to smell my arousal. With a tug, the thin layer of silk that separated us was gone and his tongue was inside me as my body splintered apart from the orgasm. I went boneless and my head fell back against the fridge because I had missed this. He lifted me into his arms and carried me to my bed. My back hit the mattress as he stripped and then he was all over me, hands, lips, teeth and tongue and I was just as frenzied trying to taste and touch as much of him as I could.
"I need to be inside you, feel you. No condom. I'm clean."
Unlike the last time we had had unprotected sex, I was on the pill. But even if I hadn't been, I would have thrown caution to the wind. "Please."
The word was no sooner out of my mouth when he lifted my hips, looking me right in the eye, and surged into me. For just a second we both stilled at the beauty of being here again, but the beast that ruled him took over as he lost himself in my body. Right before he came his mouth found mine for a kiss that was poignantly tender. He buried his face in my hair and for several long, blissful minutes we stayed just like that … replete and connected.
His head lifted and tenderness stared back.
"I never knew that zombie hunting was an aphrodisiac."
He chuckled.
"What changed your mind?"
He brushed my hair away from my face, his hand settling on my cheek as his eyes took a slow journey over my features. "You remembered what I liked on my pizza."
I almost laughed, but I realized he wasn't entirely kidding. I got it because I felt it too. We were connected, bound, and had been since we were seventeen. Even after all these years, our bond was still just as strong.