Only Love Survives (Love and Zombies) (16 page)

“Thanks.” He turned and followed the crowd to the end of the line.

Once seated with trays of food-like substance in front of them, Sam dared the question, “Any guesses as to what this is?”

He pushed the glop on his plate around with a fork that could stand to be polished.

“Looks like school lunches, right down to the canned fruit cocktail. Some sort of chili-mac I’d venture.” She put a scoop in her mouth and nodded while she chewed then swallowed. “Yep. Chili-mac.”

“Damn, I miss steak.” Sam took a bite and truth be told, it wasn’t bad. Better than raccoon.

“Can we join you?” An older couple stood with trays in hand on the other side of the table.

“Of course.” Megan motioned for them to sit, and they did. “I’m Megan.”

She put her hand out. The other woman took it. “I’m Jenny and the ogre is my husband, Paul.”

“Sam.” Megan pointed at him while he chewed so he nodded at them. The husband nodded back.

“How long have you young people been here?” Jenny asked casually.

“Why do you ask?” Sam set down his fork, unable to eat anymore glop.
It had to be cocktail hour somewhere.

Paul finally came to life. “Because you are still picking at your food like you expected something better from this four star shit hole.”

Sam liked the crusty old fellow instantly. “Ah. Well, I was hoping…”

“Hope is a luxury. One I can’t much afford anymore.” The man muttered something else under his breath then stuffed a mouthful of dinner in without any further preamble or investigation.

“Ignore him.” His wife shook her head. “Hope is a beautiful thing. It’s what keeps us alive inside.”

“I still have hope. It’s darn near all I have left.” Megan laughed.

“What do you hope for, child?” She reached across the table and patted Megan’s hand.

Sam watched the exchange in silence, interest piqued.

“That those people in the building with the big red cross are on the edge of curing it all.”

The old couple exchanged a look that made the hair on the back of Sam’s neck stand up. It wasn’t lost on Megan either.

“What?” She put her fork down.

“Stay away from the medical building, dear. The people that go there don’t come back…ever.”

“What about the doctors?” Sam intended to go there in the morning and look for his sister.

“Never seen them. Not sure there actually are any.” The old man spoke up between bites.

“How long have you been here?” Megan asked obviously shaken by their comments. Sam reached over and picked up her hand lending the support she seemed to need. Were all her hopes tied up in a cure for mankind? Was she that naïve, or was there more to it? Did it stem from the secret she’d been keeping from him? He’d had about enough of this. It was time Megan told him the truth.

“Three months or so.” Jenny took another bite.

Paul chimed in. “Never seen a soul come back outta that building the entire time we’ve been here.”

Sam decided to change the subject. “What do you guys do for your assigned jobs?”

“I do dishes, my husband goes into the dam and works on the maintenance.”

“I sweep the floors,” he corrected, but it didn’t diminish the pride on his wife’s face.

“Have they told you about the marriage rules yet?” The old woman looked from Sam back to Megan who stared unblinking back at her.

“What marriage rules?” Sam demanded.

What marriage rules?
Megan thought as Sam spoke those same words.

“You’ll find out during your interview, but I’m going to warn you. Women of childbearing age are expected to have a husband. If you don’t have one, they
will
provide one for you. Something about repopulation.”

“And if I don’t want one?” Megan couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“No choice, Love.” The older gentleman finally pitched in, his plate empty. Megan’s throat went dry, and she picked up her cup.

“Bullshit.” Sam slammed his cup on the table. “They can’t force her to marry anyone.”

“There is a simple fix here. This is why I’m warning you. Just tell them you two are married. You don’t have to prove it. No one will be the wiser. For all I know, you very well may be married already.”

“We are married.”

The couple turned toward Sam.

Megan choked on her mouthful of room temperature tap water, and the old man eyed her.

“That kind of reaction is not going to convince anyone, especially the folks in charge.”

“She always does that. Just can’t believe her luck. It doesn’t mean anything.” Sam patted her on the back with a self-assured smile on his face.

Megan sputtered, but got a hold of herself and waved Sam off.

“I’m good.” She turned to the old couple. “Yeah, I married a millionaire right before he lost his fortune. Talk about lucky.”
There, take that buddy
.

A half hour later, back in the room, Megan let her pack slide to the floor and confronted him. “So I guess we’re just going to lie about it?”

Sam took two steps forward and pinned her to the wall with his body. Her breath caught in her throat. He lowered his face within an inch of hers.

“Is it so rough a lie to live with?” His words left goose bumps where they brushed across her skin.

“Well, no…” She couldn’t think straight when he stood this close.

Sam leaned down to close the distance between their lips, but Megan burst out laughing. Drawing back, he cocked an eyebrow at her, but kept her pinned in place with his chest and powerful thighs.

“Just remembered that saying, ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.’”

Sam answered her with a kiss that scorched the edges of her sanity. The world around her narrowed to a pinprick; its focus being the points where their bodies met. Where his hard muscles leaned into her soft curves, where the rough pads of his thumbs chafed the tender skin on her collarbone and where his firm tongue caressed the length of hers. When he drew away, he took all the oxygen in the room with him and Megan would have slid to the floor if not for the weight of his body holding her up.

“The bed?” Sam asked permission.

How sweet
. She was not in the mood for sweet. Megan lifted her hands to his chest, pushing him toward the bed until his legs hit the edge and he went down on his backside. Kicking off her shoes, Megan climbed on top straddling him, letting her hair blind him while she claimed his lips and the heat she so desperately wanted. Sam didn’t fight her. He let Megan take the lead, merely resting his hands on her thighs while she took what she needed from him.

Skin
. She needed skin. Megan sat up and peeled her shirt off. Squelching the urge to rip his off too, she took a deep breath to steady her fingers and reached for the buttons of his flannel shirt. She worked to expose the hard muscles underneath, one excruciating button at a time. Then she smoothed it back and ran her fingernails across his chest, from the small triangle of blonde hair in the middle, across his hard pecks to his shoulders and back again. Megan smiled in victory when he closed his eyes and sucked in a shaky breath. When he opened them again, the ice blue of his gaze had given way to a smoky hue that smoldered with hunger. Emboldened with the power of his desire, Megan reached back to unhook her bra, purposely arching her back more than was necessary for the task.

He growled and hooked an arm around her waist, flipping her on the mattress under him. Megan laughed until he claimed her neck in a series of hot tingling kisses launching a flood of sensation to her core. She moaned without meaning to, then slapped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.

“Oh no. It’s my turn.” He lifted up and gently pulled her hand away. Then Sam grazed the top of her still covered breast with the back of his fingers. “So perfect.” He kissed the tender skin where his hand had just been while pushing the loose strap of the bra off her shoulder to expose even more. Then he kissed that skin too.

Torture, heavenly torture. Megan relaxed into the mattress and sighed under his expert attention until he finally covered her rosy peak with his mouth. With that, she nearly came off the bed, but he did not relent. Megan writhed in pleasure…and agony, wishing he’d stop, praying he didn’t.

He didn’t.

Sam slid the other strap off leaving her bare to his gaze, but she was beyond caring. Megan sat up and reached for his pants. Leaning back on his knees, he granted her access. She slid them over his narrow hips and his staff stood between them, freed from its restrains. Megan surprised herself by wrapping her arms behind him, grabbing his butt and taking his flesh into her mouth. Her goal, to return the sweet torture he’d showered on her. It worked. He swayed and grasped her shoulders to steady himself. Megan smiled against him, a mistake she realized when Sam growled and pushed her back against the bed.

Grabbing her ankles, he found the very bottom hem of her pants and Megan realized what he was about to do. “Wait, they’re new.”

She flicked the button just in time for him to pull them off in one swoop. Then he shed the remnants of his own clothes before falling to the bed next to her. She bounced from the weight of him and smiled at the sensation of being on a bed.

Lifting up on one elbow, Sam rested his head on his fist, inches from her face. His breath caressed her cheek and she wiggled onto her side to face him. The only barrier left between them was her new pink panties. He grazed the curve of her hip with the tips of his fingers causing tingling sensations to ripple through her before dipping one finger in the side and peeling them from her slowly. Once they were gone, he palmed her cheek and took her mouth in earnest. The games had come to an end.

Sam kissed her until he drew the sigh he was looking for from her lips. Only then did he show any mercy. Megan explored his eyes…and reached his heart. It was a shocking feeling, one he’d never experienced before. If she knew what she did to him, she gave no indication. The sweet smile on her lips was all he needed to survive. Dipping down, he drank again from that smile, pushing her back against the mattress as he did so. Sam settled over her and paused for permission. She lifted up and found his lips again telling him what he needed to know.

The space around them shrank. Sam pressed forward, into her warmth as her body expanded around him, his sense of the world splintered. When he moved, she moved with him and the rhythm they created made them one body, one soul. Megan’s gaze held him captive and he forgot how to breathe. She must have known because she smiled and wrapped her legs around him before rolling over to take charge.

Her hair hung around them, shrouding them in a silky drape as she leaned over him and caressed his lips with hers. She set a pace that drove him mad. Sam reached up and pushed her hair back over an ear cupping her face so he could look into her eyes while she commanded his body to do her bidding. She never looked away, even when her breaths came in short wanton bursts, until finally she threw her head back in passion. Sam grabbed the swell of her hips to keep her from falling off until she returned to him. Once she did, the magnificent expression on her face was his undoing. He roared his release, and she held on, unyielding until he shook beneath her and took a long ragged breath.

She continued to smile at him, Sam pulled her to his chest, spent, but unwilling to let her go. When he looked down at her head nestled in the crook of his arm, again he was struck by how well she fit there.
Because that’s where she belonged
.

“Are we going to the medical building tomorrow to look for your sister?”

He started to say she should stay here, but since that didn’t go so well the last time, he resigned himself to the fact that she would be going with him. “Yeah, but first we check in for our job assignments. I don’t want to get kicked out of this place before we have a chance to find her.”

Questions plowed through his mind. Was Vegas what she’d expected it to be? He sensed her disappointment, but did she still plan to stay behind when he left? These were all questions he knew she would not answer. Guarding her secret would not allow it. But Sam was accustomed to getting the truth out of people. All he had to do was start with questions she would answer.

“You know how women collect shoes?” Sam picked up a piece of her hair and twisted it in his fingers.

“
Some women
collect shoes, not
all
women.”

“What was your thing?”

Megan reached up and touched her naked ears. “Earrings.”

He traced the edge of her ear with his index finger. “Summer collected flip flops. I think she had a million of them when I moved her down to Irvine.”

“And what did you collect?” Her breath caressed the tiny hairs on his arm when she spoke and it sent shivers across his skin.

“Mine was ties. My favorite was a silk tie with hand painted flames.”

Megan laughed. “You wore that to board meetings?”

“Yep. My assistant used to roll her eyes every time I wore it.”

“I bet.” She chuckled against his skin.

“What do you think about this place, Megan?” He felt her tense just slightly in his arms, and he rubbed her flesh where it met the pads of his thumbs.