Page 24

We spend the evening in the campground.

I fit myself into my sleeping bag like normal, settling not far from Micah and Burgundy. Deck is standing guard, but I leave a space for him to sleep beside me when he’s finished with his shift.

I’m always so tired in the evenings I fall asleep without any trouble, but tonight I wake up in the middle of the night. Wide-awake for no reason with a heaviness in my gut I can’t quite identify.

The large campfire has died down quite a bit, but it’s still crackling softly in the middle of the clearing, casting flickering light over the sleeping bodies stretched out on the ground surrounding it.

I have no idea what time it is, but a light touch on my shoulder makes me jerk in surprise. I turn over to see that Deck is lying beside me, so obviously it’s late enough for his guard shift to be over .

I smile at him in the faint light, and he smiles back.

Reaching out with both hands, he grips my sleeping bag and pulls it—and me with it—closer to him. Then he positions my body so he’s spooning me. I hug one of his forearms to my chest with a pleased sigh.

That vague heaviness still sits in my gut, but I definitely feel better wrapped in Deck’s body like this.

It’s intimate, despite the fact that we’re lying in the open air around dozens of others and that my sleeping bag is between us.

Deck frees his hand enough to spell letters out on his hand. You okay?

“Yes,” I murmur very softly. I don’t want to wake anyone else up. “I don’t know why I’m even awake.”

Worried?

“N-no. I don’t think so.”

Upset.

This time the spelled-out word isn’t a question. It’s a statement. He somehow knows about the heaviness I’m experiencing.

“I’m not really upset. I’m… I don’t know.”

What?

I blow out a breath. I should have known he wouldn’t let it go even if it’s simply a stray, passing feeling.

“Restless or something,” I finally say. “Like something isn’t quite settled.” It’s the best I can come up with to describe my current state of mind.

What needs settled?

“I don’t even know.” I can tell he’s going to pursue the question, so I turn over to face him. “I mean it. Don’t you ever have weird temporary feelings that trouble you for a little while and then go away?”

He shakes his head. Something triggers them .

“I guess.”

I don’t know what else to say, what will satisfy Deck enough to let go of this topic.

Because the truth is, as we’ve been talking, the emotions have crystalized into an identifiable recognition.

And Deck is right. It is something specific that’s triggered the weight in my gut that woke me from sleep. There is something unsettled inside me that I need to be addressed.

Him.

Us.

We started fucking with the understanding that it was casual between us—no drama, no messiness that might become a problem to the group dynamic—but the way we’ve been together from the beginning doesn’t feel casual.

At all.

I know he cares about me as much as I care about him, but something new has entered the relationship since the other night in the storage unit when we reconciled after our fight and he opened up about his past trauma.

This relationship has never been perfectly safe for me because of the possible consequences of it ending, but now it’s more dangerous than it ever was before.

My heart might never recover from losing him.

But it’s too much. Too much to ask. Too much to expect. Too much to demand so early in any relationship and particularly one that was defined from the beginning as casual.

I should say something. Admit my feelings and ask about his. Define the nebulous tension that’s started to swirl around me.

That’s what a sensible, mature person would do.

I even open my lips to get something said.

But no sound comes out.

His features tighten. His eyes deepen with urgency. What?

I try one more time to get the thing said, but I can’t. So I shake my head and smile at him. Stretch up to press a kiss on his lips. “Everything is good, Deck.”

He’s frowning as I turn back over so he can spoon me again, but it doesn’t take long for him to let his questions go and relax. He nuzzles my hair. I hug his forearm.

Things are good between us. Really good.

It’s all anyone can expect from this universe.

It’s more than enough.

Feeling better, I can finally go back to sleep.

Deck has been giving me hot looks all morning.

It started early. I was leaning over to roll up my sleeping bag, and because I was bent at the waist, my jeans slid down to expose the top part of my butt. I only know this because he came behind me and teasingly grabbed the back waistband of my jeans to yank them higher .

I squealed, giggling at his playful, sexy expression and the intimate gesture. Then I pushed my jeans farther down my hips where they’d been before with a defiant look.

Still smiling, his eyes got hot as he made another move for my ass.

We got interrupted by Trisha, walking by, rolling her eyes and muttering about certain people needing to get a room.

We would get a room if there were any rooms to be had.

But we’re basically wandering the wilderness here.

There’s nothing but scraggly trees trying to survive with less sunlight than they need, wide stretches of tangled weeds and dead foliage, and the occasional abandoned gas station or quick shop—all of them already thoroughly looted.

As it is, Deck and I have no privacy. The little princess room we shared in the house feels like ages ago now, and there’s not much hope for its like in the future. So his sexy mood might have gotten me going too, but we had no easy way to act on it.

There’s no sense in being annoyed by this fact.

It’s one of the consequences of constantly traveling as we do.

Deck has been living this life a lot longer than I have, and he clearly has no desire to stop.

I like most of the people in our group, and I feel safe here—a blessing I never believed I’d find again. Plus there’s no way I’m leaving Deck.

Even if leaving him was an option I’d consider, I have nowhere else to go .

So this is my life now too. It’s not a bad one.

The conclusion I came to last night is the right one.

I need to be grateful for what’s good and not ask for even more.

Things for me are a lot better than most people’s lives after Impact.

We don’t need a fairy-tale romance. And it’s okay that I can’t fuck Deck whenever I want.

And that he can’t fuck me.

He’s been thinking about it all morning. Anytime I glance up in the back of the pickup during the bumpy ride over cracked pavement, he slants me another smoldering look.

Even the mess of his hair and beard can’t dim that particular expression.

After the attack on the road yesterday, neither one of us was in the mood for grooming, so he’s still all rumpled and tangled today.

It’s fine. It looks like him.

Today we’re making better time than usual. Logan’s Jeep maintains a faster pace despite the unfamiliar terrain and the poor condition of the road. He’s thinking about his little girl somewhere out west. He hasn’t said a word about it since we left that town, but I know she’s on his mind.

Who can blame him?

The chances of our finding her and her grandparents are slim, but he’s going to try anyway.

In the middle of the day, we reach a grassy clearing cut through by a decent-sized creek. Logan calls out that we’ll break here for a couple of hours.

We usually eat lunch and rest for a while with the others, but Deck takes my hand and pulls me away from the group before we’ve even gotten anything to eat.

I’m laughing helplessly as I’m dragged after him. “Deck! Everyone will know what we’re doing!”

He grunts and shrugs and keeps pulling me until we’re out of sight of the group and far enough away to not hear their voices.

I’m still giggling as he grabs the back of his T-shirt and pulls it off over his head. His hair is even messier when he drops it on the ground. Scowling at me, he signs, Clothes off !

I’m not ashamed to admit that the blunt order and stern expression get me even more excited.

But I say, “I didn’t think you were a bossy, caveman type of guy.”

No bossy. Horny. We joked about a good sign for horny a couple of weeks ago and came up with one hand curved into a circle starting on his forehead and extending up like a horn. That’s the sign he makes now.

Dissolving into more amusement, I toe off my shoes, peel off my jeans, and then pull my shirt over my head.

I’m standing in the open air next to a creek, wearing nothing but socks, panties, and bra.

All of them are dingy from long use, but Deck’s eyes rake up and down over my body like I could be on the cover of a magazine.

He waves toward my underwear, signaling I should take them off too.

He’s already stripped down to just his boxers, visibly erect beneath the fabric and smiling ferally. As soon as my panties come off, he hefts me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist as he kisses me.

He’s big and strong enough to carry my whole weight without straining. He’s solid. Unyielding. And so incredibly warm. We kiss deep and urgent for a few minutes until I’m as aroused as he is.

It would be nice to be so carried away that we ease into a sex position naturally, but we have several inconveniences to manage—namely our size difference, the lack of bed or handy piece of furniture, and the realities of fucking outdoors.

So it takes us a minute to decide on a position that’s both comfortable and hot.

Deck finally bends me over a largish rock to raise my hips enough to get the alignment right, and then he kneels behind me, lining his cock up so he can push into my pussy from behind.

I cling to the rock, slightly off-balance, as he fucks me hard and fast. I huff in pleasure on every instroke and get some good stimulation on my clit from this position. Deck is pretty far gone though. He makes a straining, breathless sound before he yanks out his cock and comes on my lower back.

Glancing over my shoulder, I smile at his deeply satisfied expression as he stares at his semen on my skin. Before I can speak, he moves his hand between my legs and fucks me with three fingers instead of his cock.

It takes a minute for me to get my momentum back, but eventually I’m making choppy, helpless sounds until I finally burst out loudly with a hard orgasm that shudders through my body .

Deck is still smiling as he turns me over, helping me arrange myself on the grass before he starts kissing his way down my body. He takes his time and makes me come again with his fingers and mouth.

I’m relaxed, happy, and thoroughly spent when he finally decides he’s done. He lies beside me, pulling me into his arms. I play with his slightly erect cock as we cuddle.

“We didn’t even get lunch,” I say at last.

Eat later.

“Everyone must know what we’re doing.”

So what?

“I don’t know. Isn’t it kind of embarrassing?”

Why?

I sigh and press a kiss into his chest. “I don’t actually know. I don’t feel as embarrassed as I would have expected. Although I do kind of miss our little bunk room in that house.”

Me too.

“Maybe we’ll have a room and a bed again one day.”

As soon as the words come out, I wish I hadn’t said them. The mood changes. Deck’s muscles tighten palpably. He cups one of my cheeks to raise my head so he can see my face. He doesn’t say anything. Just peers at me.

“I wasn’t complaining,” I tell him. “This just now was amazing, and I’m happy to have sex with you however and whenever we’re able to.”

You want to leave?

“No! Stop asking that.” I sit up because the mood has intensified fast, and this is too important a conversation to have sprawled out naked on the ground. “I told you I’m happy with Logan. I’m happy with you . Everything is good.”

He sits up too. There’s dirt and grass on his back and his head, but that’s true of me too. I reach for my shirt to pull it back on.

You want change?

“No!” I moderate my tone as I continue. “I don’t want a change.”

You want me to leave Logan?

“No! Deck, stop all this right now. I’ve told you straight out what I think and how I feel. You can’t keep questioning me like this. It isn’t fair.” For no good reason, it feels like I’m on the edge of tears.

He’s as upset as I am now. It’s happened in the span of a minute. He turns his head to the side and twists his features a couple of times before he gets himself back under control. Something wrong. Last night and still today.

“Nothing is wrong. I don’t know why you keep saying that.”

Something wrong . This time he makes the gestures emphatically. In fast jerks. With you. Something wrong. Talk.

I’m suddenly trapped. Terrified. I can’t even explain why, but my first instinct—my only instinct—is to flee. I jump to my feet, scrabbling to pull back on my panties and jeans. “Nothing is wrong. You’re imagining things. And you’re really getting on my nerves with this.”

Talk .

“I’m getting kind of tired of you not believing what I tell you.”

Then talk.

“I don’t have anything to say!”

Talk! He looks as angry and urgent as I feel.

“No!” I burst into tears but manage to swallow down the sobs until I walk away from him.