What Remains_Reckoning (13 page)

Morgan huffed. “We’re still a world away from your compound. If I don’t push it—”

Gunner copied Wolfe’s approach, pulling Morgan close then plundering her mouth. It didn’t look gentle or sweet. It was a possession of her lips. A claiming that clearly stated Gunner was the one in control. And when he finally released her, Morgan swayed slightly on her feet.

Gunner gave her a shake of his finger. “Like Wolfe said. No more excuses. This has gone on long enough. Once we get to this cabin, we’re taking a break. End of story.”

“But…” She trailed off, looking at the men as if she was thought they might kiss her again if she protested. Then she turned to Hamilton, giving him a firm stare. “So I suppose you’re going to kiss me into submission next?”

Ham leaned in, placing a light peck on her mouth. “Nope. Looks like they got our point across. But at the risk of being the odd man out…”

He closed the distance again, taking her lips in a way that made Wolfe have to rearrange his dick. Fuck, watching the other men with her was hot. Something he hadn’t anticipated. Though he’d told Gunner he thoroughly believed they could share, he’d half considered that it was just desperation talking. That when the time came, if it ever did, they’d react like the testosterone junkies Gunner thought they were. But now—damn, he might just be able to get off simply being a spectator. Not that he’d stay that way for long. But any doubts he’d had of becoming an intimate partner with Morgan, Ham and Gunner vanished, leaving only burning desire in its wake.

Hamilton finally eased back, kissing her nose before retreating.

Morgan touched her mouth, glancing at each of them then refocusing on Ham. “I thought you weren’t going to kiss me to shut me up?”

“I didn’t. That was just for the sheer pleasure of it.” He gave her a smile that made the woman swallow noisily. “Now which way to the cabin because, girl, they’re right. It’s time to take a few days to catch our breath. And we could all use a break.”

Morgan furrowed her brow. “We’re running out of time, and good weather.”

“Don’t care.” Ham held up his hand. “Discussion’s over until we get where we’re headed. Your lips are turning blue, and I’m not ashamed to say my balls are about to crawl up into my body if we don’t get somewhere dry and warm soon. Now lead the way, but know this…” He managed to crowd her without looking threatening. “We’re not going anywhere. And we’re not leaving you behind. If that means we spend the winter on our own…just the four of us…so be it.” He took a step away then glanced back at her over his shoulder. “And for the record, you’re not broken, you’re cautious. Any man who can think past his own dick can tell the difference. After everything you’ve been through, you’d be crazy to be any other way. But seeing as we aren’t assholes like Beau, we’re willing to wait. Let you set the pace. Speaking of which…let’s move.”

Morgan stared at Ham, slowly making the rounds before breaking eye contact and striking off, her pace noticeably slower. Wolfe glanced at his buddies, smiling at their unspoken nod. None of them wanted to rush Morgan, but damn, kissing her had made his heart constrict and his dick swell. And he could tell by the way the other two men shook their hips a bit as they walked, she’d had the same effect on them. Hell, he’d half considered jumping back into the water just to freeze his erection away.

He sighed. While he knew Ham was right—that she just needed time to see they really were trustworthy. That they’d never hurt her—part of him was scared that it wasn’t her fear keeping her distance, but the simple fact that she just didn’t have feelings for them. Even after three weeks, she still jumped if they touched her, no matter how innocent the contact was. And he didn’t know how he or Ham and Gunner would keep going if they lost her before they’d even had a chance to see how deeply they could all fall in love.

“God, damn, I’m turning into a fucking pussy.”

The only saving grace was that Gunner and Hamilton seemed to be having equally pathetic thoughts. At least, that was the vibe he got from them. And he knew they were trying to mentally prepare themselves for the worst.

No surrender.

He was a SEAL god damn it. He and the guys didn’t believe in failure. It just meant they’d have to try harder. Dig deeper and be the men she needed them to be. And with charm times three, she didn’t stand a chance.

He chuckled at the thought, smiling when Gunner glanced back at him, giving him a puzzling look. They’d find a way to make this work. To earn her love. She was more than just a temptation. She was their own form of salvation. They just needed her to believe it.

Chapter Nine

Morgan stared at the ceiling, mentally counting the wooden tiles in the dark as she reclined in the bed, wondering if she might actually sleep tonight or if she’d spend another eight hours simply trying to stay sane.

They’d finally found the remote cabin, though not before having to hike another three hours after jumping off the cliff in order to escape the damn zombies. While the impulsive act had saved their lives, it’d cost them time and distance, and they’d had to reclaim all the elevation they’d lost in that single step. The trek, combined with the cold, had taken a toll, and not just on her. Even Wolfe had been shaking from the loss of core body heat by the time they’d finally crested a small hill and spotted the building just a few hundred yards off. Somehow she’d managed to walk the entire way unaided, but had virtually collapsed once they’d gotten inside. Ham had muttered under his breath as he’d picked her up and placed her on the bed, ordering her not to move until they’d gotten a fire going in the stove.

He’d disappeared only to return with a blanket he said he’d found on a shelf. Then he’d ordered her to strip as he’d turned around and headed back into the other room. She’d stuck her tongue out at him, inwardly flipping him off. She hadn’t spent a decade as a ranger not to recognize hypothermia when she saw it. And she knew what to do in order to stop if from progressing to the point of death. But obviously the boys thought she needed to be ordered around like one of their damn SEAL buddies.

She’d silently cursed them the entire time she’d undressed, the hushed words intermixing with groans as her ribs protested each movement. But she’d eventually peeled the still wet clothes off her body and wrapped herself in the scratchy wool blanket. Then she’d innocently opened the door to place her garments by the fire to dry and had stopped dead in her tracks.

All three men had stripped down to their skivvies—the tight black cotton briefs the only scrap of fabric still covering their bodies. And though she’d pictured a hundred times what they’d look like naked, nothing compared to seeing the endless expanse of flesh and muscle standing before her. Broad, bulging shoulders and arms filled the room, accompanied by equally muscled chests and abdomens. Veins pulsed beneath their skin as their bodies seemed to flex just breathing. They were the epitome of male perfection, and she hadn’t been able to tear her gaze away. Then they’d turned to stare at her, and she’d dropped the damn bundle of clothes in her arms. All three men had been sporting straining erections barely contained beneath the briefs, and her mouth had actually watered at the sight.

Ham had been the first to react, walking over to her to collect the heap of damp clothing. He’d seemed completely indifferent to the fact he was standing basically nude in front of her. He’d frowned and had placed a hand on her forehead as if checking for a fever before she’d pulled herself together enough to react. Her head had tilted back to meet his gaze, and she’d had the sudden urge to tiptoe up and kiss him. Feel his warm, wet tongue caress hers as it had by the water. Christ, she’d wanted to taste all of them again.

The intensity of her feelings had shocked her, and she’d stumbled backwards once he’d removed his hand. He’d given her a quizzical look, asking if she was okay. She’d simply nodded and disappeared back inside the room. That had been two days ago. Sure, she’d gathered her composure enough to face the men shortly after and had been a pillar of strength ever since, but knowing she’d been a heartbeat away from opening up to them had scared her. And not just a little. It’d torn away the edges of the shield she’d erected after all those long months alone and having to face one threat after another. At discovering that what was left of humanity wasn’t even worth fighting for. She’d almost talked herself into believing these guys weren’t any different, that all the kindness they’d shown her was merely a means to an end. But in that one moment of truth, she’d recognized that it’d all been a lie she’d been telling herself in order to stay distant. That it was the fear of actually wanting to get close that had been the basis of her beliefs.

“Fuck.”

She let the word pass her lips. Since that one, defining instant, she’d been floundering. Stumbling her way through each day, only to have her damn head nag away at her at night. And when she did manage to sleep, Beau’s face appeared, leering at her as if mocking her newfound feelings. She’d bolted awake, chest heaving, sweat beading her brow. Somehow she’d managed to keep from screaming, but she’d heard footsteps outside the door and had known the boys were more than aware how far gone she was.

Morgan groaned. She needed to get a grip before she really did slip off the deep end. Or worse, before she gave in to the heat burning through her veins and let the guys in. Just the thought of it made her heart race and a hollow, needy feeling coil in her core. Other than Beau’s brutal attempts at fucking her, she hadn’t been with a man in over two years. Hadn’t thought about how much she missed being touched, caressed. Knowing there was someone who cared whether she lived or died. To give that kind of love in return.

But the thoughts also made her throat constrict as panic eventually took hold. What if they didn’t care? If all they wanted was the physical release? What if surrendering to them resulted in them walking away? Or the hard truth that they simply didn’t want her?

Nausea churned in her gut and she sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Though the damn thing was massive, easily enough room for all of them, they’d insisted she take it. They’d camped out in the main room and she assumed they were taking turns doing patrols, though it wasn’t truly necessary. Luckily, this cabin had been a makeshift fire station. Larger than some of the others they’d stayed in, it’d been surrounded by barbed-wire fencing, to guard against anyone tampering with the supplies. Wolfe had climbed the fence as if it’d been nothing more than a ladder and had been able to unlock the gate from within. There’d been a resounding sigh of relief from all, though she knew the boys would never truly relax. Not out here. Not when zombies weren’t the only threat.

She stopped to consider her own words. Would they really go to all this trouble if they didn’t care about her? Was it merely regard for their own safety? Her heart told her she was more than a bit fucked up where her head was concerned. That the men had given her every reason to trust that their feelings and actions were genuine. She just didn’t know how to stop her damn brain from shouting at her. To shove aside the doubts, the memories and let them in.

Morgan fisted her hands, mentally telling her head to shut the fuck up, as she pushed to her feet. Pain flared along her side, but even a couple days of rest had helped. It no longer burned white-hot with every breath, and she’d gotten to the point she could move without wincing again. She stared at the door, slowly making her way to it before pressing her ear against the wood. Nothing. Not a raspy breath, no hint of movement.

She snagged her bottom lip then cracked open the door, looking through the narrow slit. The room seemed brighter, the pale gleam of the moon adding some welcomed light. All the windows in the bedroom had been boarded over, though she secretly suspected that was the boys’ motivation for stuffing her in there. They knew she’d never be able to run off without alerting them.

She gazed around the room. Two couches fronted the wood stove with a kitchen area stretching out beyond. A round table and chairs took up any remaining space, but having four walls and a roof sure as hell beat tying themselves to a tree at night. She scanned the sofas, noting the large, dark silhouettes mounded beneath a single cover. A giggle bubbled in her chest. They made the damn furniture look small with their large frames contorted onto the cushions, and she found herself content to just watch them sleep. Listening to the quiet whisper of breath she hadn’t been able to discern through the door. It grounded her. Made her feel safe.

A noise sounded from the direction of the kitchen and she jerked her focus toward it, fear tingling up her spine before her gaze clashed with a set of hazel eyes, the golden color almost bright in the moonlight. Relief swept through her, and she opened the door enough to lean against the frame.

“You scared me.”

Gunner’s eyes softened. “You’re not the only one, honey. Didn’t expect to look up and see you standing there. You don’t generally come out once you close the door. Can’t sleep?”

She shrugged. How did she tell the guys the truth without coming across neurotic? She groaned inwardly. Who was she kidding? They probably already thought she was batshit crazy.

Gunner frowned. “Morgan? Everything okay?”

She forced a smile, suddenly questioning why she’d ventured out in the first place. Did she really think she could act remotely normal around them? Since they’d arrived two days ago, she’d made a conscious effort not to jump anytime one of them touched her, and she’d gotten better at relaxing when they brushed against her while sitting on the couch, but that was nowhere near being able to embrace intimate contact.

Intimate? Fuck, she’d be happy just to touch them without freaking out.

Gunner scraped back his chair then quickly covered the space between them, stopping dangerously close. She hadn’t realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt, the gleam of his skin from the moon making her throat suddenly dry. She studied the swirls of ink across his chest. She hadn’t realized he even had a tattoo until the other day. Even then, she’d bee too overwhelmed by her sudden feelings to really look at it.