Page 4 of Creepy (The Zombiepidemic #1)

I hadn’t heard a thing, but I knew from when they captured me before. “Okay, you have a few women in your crew.”

“A very few. Not enough to go ‘round. Most are expecting.”

Ugh.

I’d never been happier to have ransacked the pharmacies first thing. I was still on the pill, something Dillon was unaware of. “Are they all yours?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I forgot, y’all share everything.”

“Not everything.”

I laughed. “Like I told you before. I’m not interested in sharing.

” Boy, was that a loaded statement calling back to our time together when he flirted with having an open relationship.

That’d been in the two-year turbulent period before we were engaged.

I could only imagine the bullet I’d dodged when he left me.

“I’m happy on my own. We have a deal, remember? Let’s just get this over with.”

“After you.” He gestured for me to move through the house.

“Not there,” I said of my current room. I pointed. “Upstairs.”

“Just like old times,” he crooned, as he followed me up the wooden stairs and into my old room.

Exactly like it was before he left me, my wedding dress hung in the corner, the one he was never supposed to see until the big day.

Glacier white and elegantly beaded, the gown would’ve been perfect for the big wedding we’d planned.

Sweet pictures of him and I dotted the pastel walls of my youth.

The lavish engagement ring laid over in my old dresser somewhere, too.

Naturally, none of this affected him. All ancient history.

We stood in front of my old white wrought iron bed with the yellow chenille duvet in broad daylight. Before the pandemic, Dillon wasn’t a sex-in-the-middle-of-the-day type of guy.

“Take it off,” he demanded.

Unbuckling the holster, I put my pistol on the floor and kicked it away. He laid his down too.

Dillon unzipped his pants. “I wish you could enjoy it.”

My hands on my hips, I said, “Don’t lie. I’ve known you my whole life. I know you love a good fight.”

“Might be nice for a change if you were a willing participant.”

“Don’t you have enough of those?”

Mimicking me, Dillon’s hands went to his hips. “It really bothers you, doesn’t it? We aren’t even dating anymore, and you can’t stand me being with other women.”

“Dating?” I sounded appalled.

“Engaged,” he corrected himself.

I shook my head. “You ran off but have still found a way to have your cake and eat it, too.”

We were bickering like we were married.

Dillon gave in, lowering his arms, then reached up to rub mine. He was trying to soothe me. “Come on, Sissy. You used to love a good pounding.”

That was certainly true and considering the alternative, nothing, I didn’t hate having sex with Dillon. It wasn’t like I had any other options.

He went on, still stroking my arms, “Would you rather me let one of my crew have you?”

“Is that a threat?”

His grip tightened on my arms. “You know damn good and well the men understand if I want you all to myself. Leaders have privileges. They respect what I’m doing here. But they wouldn’t understand me just leaving you here to go to waste. That’s against our code.”

The thought of the Stayers rounding up stray women to use them how they saw fit turned my stomach. Reminded of such, I said, “You could at least wear a condom.”

“That would undoubtedly defeat the point, Sissy.”

“You could be a real gentleman and leave me alone. They’d never know if we weren’t having sex.”

“I’d know.”

Dillon had really bought into all this shit with the Stayers. He-man shit. And I’m sure he’d created most of it. Another reason I couldn’t go and be with him. “Can you just get it over with?”

Accepting the invitation, he ripped his dirty shirt over his head.

His tattered jeans were next to hit the floor.

His boxers, gone in an instant. He stood before me naked and looking so familiar, his erect cock as impressive as ever but his body already spectacular, bulkier from hard work, tan from the waist up.

Good to know he wasn’t running around Alexandria in the nude.

As usual, I didn’t budge. I’d let him access me however he saw fit.

Leering, he leaned in to kiss me, and as always, I drew away.

A grimace overtook his features. “You’ve always been such a brat.” Dillon went quick for my leggings, yanking them down to my knees. “No panties?” He whirled me around and flung me on the bed. My ass out for him, I waited. He caressed it before giving it a hard slap.

Juices ran down my thigh.

Who was I kidding? I relished in making him work for it.

Giving him a hard time gave me a lady boner.

To be honest, a kiss, loving foreplay of any kind would remind me more of the old Dillon than this room did.

I couldn’t have that, or I’d be running off to Alexandria with him to have lots of Stayer babies.

Dillon gave me exactly what I needed to hold off.

So, I squirmed and fought as he tried to enter me from behind, his arms encircling me to squeeze my tits.

I kicked and jutted my hips like a bucking bronco, fighting him.

All the while, my excitement grew. He forced me back down, shoving my face into the mattress.

We were wrestling now, him on top of my back, as I struggled to break free.

“You never make it easy do you, Sissy?” He growled. Dillon took my ponytail in one hand, hauling me back to hiss in my ear, “Girl, be still or you’ll make me hurt you.” His other hand snaked around me and went up my tank top, finding a nipple and twisting, nice at first but then too hard.

“Ouch,” I spluttered out.

Yanking my hair again, he pinched harder, daring me to move. “Stay still and I won’t hurt you.”

I froze, his words alone making me wetter.

His hand left my sore nipple and trailed down to work my clit between two hot fingers.

Licking my neck, he slipped his fingers in and out of me, back up my body to fondle my breast and down again.

He was starting my engine, knowing too well what I liked.

I was feeling hella fine, moving against his hand.

Dillon liked that. His teeth scraped my shoulder, and I thought he was going to bite me.

Just as I really got into it, he breathed heavily in my ear, “I think I do want to hurt you today, Creepy, just a little.”

I hated him calling me Creepy. “Fuck you.” It was what he called me when we were in love. “You’re not allowed to call me that anymore.”

“Just for that. I’m going to fucking hurt you.” Shoving my face back into the bed and holding it there with my hair as leverage, he caught my hip with his other hand, pulling my ass to him to meet his throbbing cock. Rubbing the fleshy head through my ass cheeks, he poked at my backside.

“No,” I barked out, even though the poke had almost given me an orgasm on the spot.

“Yes.” His fingernails dug into my hip as I fought him. Dillon tightened his grip on my mane as he secured my writhing body. He tried to cram his big dick into my tight anus with no lube, something he knew I was inexperienced with. Something I wouldn’t dare let him do while we were together.

“Fuck you, Dillon,” I snarled out.

“Hold still.” He punched in. I yipped out in pain when he got too far.

Reacting, he yanked out. It’d only been for a second, and it’d felt too good in a bad way.

But it still pissed me off. Instantly, he pummeled into my wet pussy instead, impaling me again and again.

Relieved, I calmed enough to enjoy it. Dillon let go of my hair and held both of my hips for leverage.

He fucked me with no restraint like he did want to hurt me a bit.

Beating an orgasm out of me, he howled like an animal with his own release.

When he collapsed on the bed beside me, I couldn’t help but snuggle into him, letting his arms scoop me up. He turned his neck and kissed my forehead.

Old habits die hard.

I was content all of three seconds before he said, “Sissy, you and I could still do it.”

“Again?”

“No. Not yet, anyway. I need a few minutes. I mean, we could get married if that’ll get you to come with me.”

I sat up. “You just won’t stop, will you?”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Time for you to go.” I pushed at him, encouraging him to get off the bed.

As if I’d slighted him, he began dressing quickly. “I’m expected back soon, anyhow. You got the goods for me?”

“Of course.”

What did I have that Dillon wanted besides some familiar pussy?

Anything to keep up the facade, his Stayers had power over me.

I had a garden in the back, too. All the hoes he collected didn’t know how to hoe, I guessed.

Every week, I not only bribed the Stayers with random trinkets, alcohol, or smokes I found in this small town, I gave them fresh herbs and vegetables.

I never gave them enough for it to become a hardship on me.

Something else Dillon didn’t know, I canned and dried all I could for the winter, storing it away where Dillon would never find it.

After my trip to the ladies’ room, he followed me out to the back deck where I’d left his cut of my pickings. As soon as I opened the back door, I stepped in red sludge.

“Fuck.”

We spotted him in the zucchini patch, his rotting flesh sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the green. I went for my gun. Dillon was quicker and shot the zombie right in the head.

“I told you not to come out here.”

“He didn’t follow me here, Sissy. The thing had to have been tracking you for a while.”

“I’m going to have to drag it out of the garden,” I declared with a pout.

“I’ve got it.” He agreed to get rid of the body if I unloaded my truck for him and filled it with what I’d planned to give him, so he could be on his way before dark.