Chapter 4

57 3 2
                                    

Steamy Confessions.

"You little... Ugh!" Was all I could think of shouting when he set me down.

"It was for the good for both of us, you don't know how many zombies were back there. I did it for you..."

Sharp tingles of pain and warmth shot up my palm as I slapped his face; the resulting jolt back and groan of pain was satisfying enough.

"You stuck-up, pompous ass." I said, casting a finger of blame in his direction before turning and stomping off.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

He checked his face five times with his hands, and it stayed red for the rest of the day, which amused me. However, under the circumstances, I had to keep a straight face, it's like I'm putting on a mask that conceals my emotions; a very good one at that. 

I did start to feel sorry for him, though, as whenever our eyes caught in a harsh lock of lusty... whatever it is, they were sorry. Ohmygod, I want to give him a hug so badly right now. Maybe I will in the morning, we'll just have to wait and see.

I find it funny how the tourist depot works. We're in England and just met an American woman who bakes pies and yeah. Maybe they got stuck here when the airports closed and they just can't get home or maybe they lived here permanently anyway but to be honest I don't really give a hoot considering she's dead and all.

Well, that's a bit mean.

Where was I last time?

Oh, yeah... Should i hate my mum for walking out on us and disappearing. She didn't write to me, she didn't call... I've been missing her since I was eight...

My dad says I look like her a lot, and I act like her too apparently. Even the shopkeeper says I have her wild waves of dark brown hair, which is preposterous considering the fact I have ginger hair, and her large, green cat eyes. I get my slashing eyebrows from her too, and "though I'm 'dainty' I know where to hit..." Well, that's what my dad says...

Sometimes I wonder if I should act more like a lady than what I act like now. How can I act like a lady now that the zombies are out? I have to be strong, I have to tell myself to be strong and brave for my dad, so I can see him again, and so that I can say sorry.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

 Mack worked up his courage and rushed to my side. "We need to talk." He said.

"No, we don't." Was my reply, "We can talk when we get to the stronghold."

"No, we can't. We need to talk. Now." He added, sending a look of desperation my way as he grabbed my arm.

"Don't touch me." I ordered, jerking back, which frustrated him, making him hold on tighter. I drew a sharp intake of breath as pain shot up my arm.

"Sorry," he said, his hand immediately rushing to the back of his head. "Can you stop?" 

I did, swinging around to face him.

"I..." He mumbled, shuffling his feet on the ground nervously. "Libby. I want you. I can't hold back, I want to touch you and kiss you and hold you. To feel your warmth on my skin, to hear your heart... I..." He shifted his weight, "You don't know how hard it is to keep my hands off you, Lib, and I'm sorry if you don't like it but I can't hold back anymore." He stepped forward, his ear tips blushing, and grabbed my waist; he drew me in with a little jolt of passion, and that thick, oozing, lusty ball fell into my stomach.

"Mack." I said his name while the blood ran faster, hotter, thicker. "Mack" I said again, my arms around his neck, hands in soft brown curls of hair. 

The ball exploded as he clamped his lips on mine in a fast action of greed. I could taste him, feel his warmth as the blood ran to my head and my hands tingled with lust. I purred, a low and quiet humming sound that came somewhere from the back of my throat, and I shot my head back, exposing my neck as he started kissing it, his hands moving stealthily up my waist to my shoulders. He came back to my lips again as he worked a hand inside my shirt and up my back.

Relief shot through me, the strap coming undone sent a wave of heat up my body; I began to move forward, pushing him back against a tree. My breath hitched as we hit it, even more so when my top fell to the floor. We stood there, our lips locked, as I fumbled with his shirt buttons; I became a savage animal, pressed up against another in the filtered darkness of the forest, and ripped his shirt from his chest.

Pure, hard and gorgeous, he stood against the cool bark. I glanced up at him, his smoky eyes locked on mine as he unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my legs. I stepped out of them in a quick swinging movement, Mack doing the same, our hands tightly clamped together.

Then he traced a finger up and down my navel until I nodded absently; he slid a hand inside my panties and found me, trembling and ready. Then his pants were gone, and I knew he was ready for it too.

My back arched with pleasure along with the heat of the rise and fall as he slipped inside, the greedy intake of eachothers' scent, taste, touch. I wanted it all, and engulfed every little movement, every humming sound, every fleeting breath. His pace quickened and I felt myself murmur his name.

The orgasm rippled through me like a skipping stone, and then he steadied me with strong, caring hands; my knees buckling under him, fingers slipping down his arm. He pulled me up for a sweet, sensual kiss. Then my mind was clear, the vision that was temporarily blurred came together, and I realised where we were.

"Mack." Was all I could manage as I set my head down on his bare chest.

"Libby." He acknowledged, his hand resting on my hair, "I love you." 

"I love you too." I told him, and stayed in his arms a while, basking in his glow.

Dark WaveWhere stories live. Discover now