Page 17 of Brood (After the End #5)

Eventually he pulls his lips away from mine and starts kissing his way down my jaw and my throat. He pushes up my camisole so he can reach my breasts, and he uses his mouth to stimulate them, sucking at one nipple while he fondles the other with his hand.

Now I’m so aroused that I’m moaning and arching up shamelessly. My legs have bent up on either side of his body, and my feet slide restlessly against the covers.

“Will,” I finally gasp, gripping handfuls of his hair. “Will, I’m really…I’m really…”

He lifts his head to smile at me. “You’re what?”

“Don’t tease! You know what I am. I’m about to explode here.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” He’s still smiling as he lowers his head again and trails kisses down toward my belly. He’s mouthing and nuzzling the soft flesh there as he slides off my underwear.

Then he kisses even lower.

“Will, please. I need—”

“I know what you need,” he mumbles against my skin. He spreads open my thighs and moves his head between my legs.

Right there. At my pussy.

I squeak and arch up. “What are you doing down there?”

“What do you think?”

“Is this something else you learned in those forbidden movies?”

His grin is almost feral. “Something like that.”

He grabs me by the hips and uses his tongue to open my outer lips and then give my clit a big lick.

This time, the sound I make is more of a squeal because it feels so good.

“This is what you need, isn’t it?” He adjusts his stance to free one hand and uses it to hold me open better for his mouth. He really gets his lips and tongue busy, giving my clit and pussy sloppy attention.

“I… I…. I…” I can barely keep from grinding myself against his face. “Oh fuck!”

I’ve never used that word in my entire life.

He chuckles against my pussy, his body shaking in a way I love. He thrusts his tongue inside me a few times and then focuses on my clit, sucking it hard until all the tension breaks inside me.

“Fuck!” I cry out way too loudly as pleasure pulses through me, sustained by the way he continues the suction on my clit.

When my orgasm levels off to the occasional little clench, he straightens, smiling down at me. He wipes the damp lower half of his face with the back of his hand and then climbs higher up my body.

I part my legs to make room for him between them and wrap my arms around him as he kisses me again.

“You taste weird now.” I’m blinking when our lips break apart.

“Do I? I wonder why.”

I inhale sharply. “Oh no! That’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not. You taste delicious. Everything about you is beautiful. And warm and resilient. And utterly genuine. I’ve never known anyone like you.”

My heart is pounding excitedly in my ears and my throat. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He takes his erection in his hand and lines it up at my entrance. “Do you think I’d repeatedly interrupt my workday to rush back here like a horny teenager just to make a baby?”

His tone is typically dry, but there’s no way for me to disbelieve him. Pleasure rushes through me—even stronger than the orgasm I just had.

“I thought having a baby was the most important thing.”

“Maybe it is.” He kisses me again and then starts edging himself in. “But there’s no reason why we shouldn’t have a really good time together along the way.”

* * *

“What aren’t you telling me, Cadence?”

Bella’s voice matches her expression. Sober. Almost stern. We’ve been having what I thought was a casual conversation over dinner two weeks later, but my heart suddenly races like something important is about to happen.

“Nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I told you everything is fine between me and Will.”

“And I’m telling you that I’ve known you since you finished school, and you’re hiding something.” She’s got eyes that are a similar dark brown to mine, and right now they’re pinning me down. “He’s not hurting you, is he?”

I gasp at the question and burst out a “no!” It’s way too loud for the quiet dining hall. People at other tables turn to look at me. “No,” I repeat in a moderated tone. “Of course not.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she murmurs, leaning closer because Danny and his spouse-to-be, who recently migrated up to this level, are chatting a few feet away. “It happens more than you think. I don’t care if he’s a chief. There are ways of dealing with it.”

“He’s never done anything to me!” Bella is my closest friend in the world, but I’m as outraged by her words as if she were accusing me personally.

“Okay.” She raises her hands in a brief gesture of surrender. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on with you, and when you first married him, you said he was cold and intimidating, so I wondered.”

“He was kind of that way at the beginning, but he was adjusting to losing his spouse and getting stuck with me.”

“Being allowed to marry you is not any sort of punishment, Cadence. He’s the luckiest man in this whole fucking place.”

I smile, softening at her annoyed tone. I’ve never heard her use that language before, and it touches me unexpectedly.

“Thanks for that. But it was so sudden. And losing a spouse like that must have been incredibly hard. It took him a while to…to get used to things. Now he’s sometimes kind of quiet and grumpy, but he’s never…

he’s never mean. And he’s definitely never hurt me. ”

“Okay, good. I didn’t get that sense of him, but you never know. Men sometimes hide those parts of themselves.”

“Not Will.”

Bella’s expression has relaxed. She must believe me. “That’s good. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“You didn’t—” I cut off my own objection because it’s simply not the truth.

She slants me an amused look. “I still want to know what you’re hiding.”

“I’m not hiding anything.” I stare down at my half-finished bowl of stew. Then over at the table where Will usually eats. He’s still not here.

He’s usually right on time for dinner. Something must have happened to delay him.

“Then why won’t you talk about him like you used to?”

I shift my eyes back to her face and see genuine concern there. I cave. “I don’t know. Honestly. Things are…they’re good. It just feels…feels private for some reason. I don’t know why. Like I don’t want everyone to know.”

“We’re not talking about everyone. We’re talking about me.”

“I know. I’m sorry if I’ve been cagey. We’re still trying to get pregnant, so that’s been disappointing. But everything else is…” Instead of finishing the sentence, I blush.

“You like him,” Bella murmurs, her eyebrows lifting.

“Of course I do. He’s my spouse.”

“But it’s more than that. You really like him. When did that happen?”

I glance around the room and see Chief Brody looking at me. It’s probably a coincidence—a passing glance—but there’s a characteristic disapproval on his face, like he’s silently judging me for my silliness.

I turn away and check Bella’s expression, but there’s nothing there that indicates she disapproves. She almost looks excited. “I don’t know. It’s just been…gradual. But I do. I like him.” My cheeks are still burning as I idly stir my stew.

“Why are you embarrassed about it?”

“I don’t know. Everyone else is so matter-of-fact about their marriages, and I feel… I don’t know. You don’t think it’s too silly and emotional?”

“To have good feelings for your spouse? Absolutely not. Cadence, I’ve told you before—you can’t take all these instructions about being stoic so seriously. There’s nothing wrong with feeling things.”

“I guess. But these feelings are…” I gulp.

“They’re what?”

“They make me feel…out of control.”

The corner of her mouth tilts up just slightly. “Do they?”

“And I’m not talking about arousal. I know that’s necessary for having babies. I mean…” I lean over and whisper, “Sometimes I imagine something bad happens to him and almost start to cry.”

She reaches over and puts a hand on my forearm. “You think you’re the only one who feels that way?”

“I don’t know. No one else ever talks about it.” I pause. “Do you feel that way for Trevor?”

She shrugs. “Yes. It took a long time for me. For us. The first few years, we didn’t really mesh. But we’ve been together for more than twenty years now. We…our feelings get used to things. Adapt. I can’t imagine my life without him. When I think about him gone, I cry too.”

My eyes burn at the slight edge of angst in her otherwise-dry tone.

Then I jump—literally jump—when someone slides onto the bench beside me.

Will.

He never sits with me at dinner. His hair and beard are more rumpled than usual, and there’s some kind of dried smear on his sleeve that I can’t identify. His posture is slumped as he starts spooning stew into his mouth.

“Hey,” I say, turning toward him and fighting the instinct to wrap an arm around him. “What happened?”

“There’s was an accident in the greenhouse. One of the panels collapsed.”

“Oh no.” I glance back to Bella, who is listening with concern. “Was anyone hurt?”

“Two people. Jared and Connie. Connie is in the clinic, but Jared didn’t make it.”

“Oh no,” I say again. What else can I say? I’ve spoken with Connie a few times, but didn’t know Jared well at all. Still…

Will looks all torn up by the incident.

“How did it collapse?” I ask.

He shakes his head. Sucks in a ragged breath. Then focuses on eating his stew. He’s barely looking at me.

“You don’t know?”

“No.” He chews. Swallows. “But it’s got to be my fault, doesn’t it?”

“No! Of course it’s not.” I turn to Bella for help, but she only gives me a helpless shrug. “It’s not your fault, Will.” My voice cracks on his name.

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t turn away from his food. He’s eating it like it’s the most important thing in the world.

But he’s hurting. I can see the guilt and the strain beneath the surface of his unyielding stoicism.

I reach over to put a hand on his thigh. I don’t rub or caress him. Just rest it there. Public displays of affection are an absolute no go in the Refuge, but my gesture is under the table.

Will needs me, and no one else can see.

* * *

That evening, Will has to work late, dealing with the aftermath of the accident and supervising repairs to the greenhouse. A lot of our fruits and vegetables are grown in there. We need it fixed.

I’m already in bed when Will finally returns to our quarters. He’s silent as he toes off his shoes and strips off his dirty clothes. And he’s silent as he walks into the bathroom.

He’s in there for a long time.

When he finally comes out, he stands in the middle of the bedroom and looks at me. I’ve dimmed the lights to their lowest level, so a lot of his face is shadowed.

“We can skip tonight,” I tell him.

“I can—”

“No.” Two months ago, I’m not sure I would have been confident enough to argue with him about shirking our duty for tonight, but I am now. “It’s been a hard day. Let’s skip tonight.”

He nods jerkily and climbs into his bed, reaching to turn off the light.

It’s pitch-dark in the room now. I hear him breathing. Hear the mattress shift as he adjusts.

My heart hammers so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t make a sound he can hear.

Will doesn’t say a word, but he’s not sleeping. He’s not even close. I can feel the tension all the way across the room. Deeply anxious, I wait for him to relax, but he doesn’t.

Finally, I can’t stand it any longer.

I get up, then walk barefoot over to his bed. I crawl under the covers beside him.

“Cadence,” he murmurs thickly.

I don’t know what he means by that, and I don’t care. I scoot against him, wrapping an arm around his middle. His body is very stiff for a few moments, until something breaks inside him. He shakes, still utterly silent, and pulls me into an urgent embrace.

I did the right thing. I know it. He needs me. I hug him tightly until his shaking eases.

It’s a long time before his body finally relaxes and his breathing slows. I rub his back and nuzzle his neck and shoulder.

When he lets out a long sigh akin to a groan, I ask softly, “Is Connie okay?”

“She’ll have scars, but she’ll live.”

“That’s good at least. Did you get the greenhouse fixed?”

“Yes.”

I wait, but he doesn’t continue. “Do you know what happened?”

“Yes. The bolts should have been replaced last year, but they weren’t.”

“Why not?”

He hesitates for a long time. “Jared was supposed to do it. He said he did.”

“Oh.”

I feel guilty for being relieved. But if it was Jared’s responsibility, at least he was the one who paid for the oversight.

“I should have confirmed it got done.”

“You’re not Jared’s supervisor, Will.”

“But I’m Marin’s supervisor. It’s still my responsibility.”

“You can’t do everything.”

He doesn’t answer. He’s tensed again. He’s gripping a handful of my hair and holding it against my back.

“You can’t. No one can. Try to let it go.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know. I’m not very good at it either. But sometimes I try to breathe it out. Like I gather all the stress and emotion into my lungs, and then I blow it all out in a big exhale.”

He huffs with a brief gust of resigned amusement.

“Not like that,” I tell him, trying to peer at him in the dark. I take a deep breath and blow it slowly. “Like this.”

He echoes my exhale.

“Yes, but bigger. Deeper. You’ve got to gather everything you’re feeling and try to get it out.”

He does it again—slower and more purposefully. His exhale ruffles my hair.

“That’s right,” I tell him, rubbing my cheek against his shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You can’t fix everything. You’ve got to let it go.”

I don’t know if my silly advice does him any real good or not, but he’s relaxed again now.

And he’s still holding me when he finally goes to sleep.