Waking Up Dead

“I need to know.”

“After,” she said.

“You’ll tell me,” he insisted and she nodded.

That was all he was going to get right now. It would have to do. Luke pushed all the other thoughts from his mind, concentrating instead on the feel of Jackson’s lips as soon as his touched hers.

Soft. Always so soft. He moved against them, holding them within his own. Jackson moaned slightly and his tongue lightly brushed against hers—just the way he knew she liked it. Jackson responded by tugging at the hem of his tee, and he allowed her to lift it up, pulling apart only so she could push it over his head. He did the same to hers, before dragging her vest off until they were both naked from the waist up.

“I want you, Luke,” she whispered and his whole body thrummed in anticipation even as he called himself all sorts of a fool for falling for her wiles. But she tied him in knots. Had done since he’d seen her purple panties running down the street.

“Immediately.”

He lifted her, she wrapped her legs around him, and he carried her to the bed, where he gently deposited her. She reached for the button of her jeans, undoing them in one quick movement and he mirrored her actions. Eyes fixed on one another they each removed the last of their clothing until nothing remained between them.

“I dreamed about this,” Luke said, kneeling in front of her.

“Us?” she asked.

“Yes, but this exactly. Seeing you on a bed, spread out before me. Nothing to worry about, nothing to hurry for.”

She smiled and held out a hand. “It’s not the first time we’ve christened this bed, babe.”

“I know,” he agreed. “But last night was fast and frantic. We were both desperate weren’t we?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Besides it seems like days ago,” he added. “The hours pass far too quickly when nothing is jumping out from the shadows.”

“The shadows are still here.”

“Not right now.”

“No, maybe not.”

“And it’s the first time without Mandy under the pillow,” he whispered, wondering even to himself why that seemed important.

Her eyes flicked to the weapon and she frowned ever so slightly. “Just this once, Luke, because I worried you, I promise to leave it there and not to even think about it.”

“Just you and me, Jack,” he said. “Let it just be about us. Not about the dead or the world. Just let me love you.”

She shivered beneath him. He could actually see her pale skin move and Luke’s heart thumped harder than it ever had before. Both before the end of the world and after. I know what this is…

“Come here then,” she whispered. “Just us. I promise. Just me and my Luke.”

Yes, he knew what it was. It was clear and obvious to him now. Why the hell else had he been so frantic for her? So worried about Pete’s words. So worried full fucking stop. He loved Jackson. The kind of love that a man waits for. The kind of love that nothing can ever really put a stop to. Not even a horde of zombies or the end of the goddamn world.

But even as he leaned forward and kissed the smile from her perfect lips, turning it instead into a sigh of pleasure, he knew something else. Though he knew it through and through, from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hair, Jackson did not.

…

After two years of what had to be the closest to hell a person could ever get, the only peace Jackson had ever found was in Luke’s arms, and she needed it now more than ever. Because today she’d found out that the struggle and the pain and all the other stuff was not at an end, not even close.

It was just beginning.

She sighed as Luke’s lips left hers and pressed against her neck—one of her most sensitive areas. Closing her eyes tightly, Jackson pushed away the thought of Two-h-ee, concentrating instead on the way Luke’s touch made her feel. Because what else could make her forget, even if only for a little bit? Nothing but Luke, of course, only he had the ability to make the worries recede.

Guilt battled with the pleasure. The guilt of leaving him to worry and wonder. Jackson resolved never to do so again. Luke would always know where she was from here on in. Not because she was obligated to, or because Luke demanded it, but because it was the right thing to do. Because he deserved that from her, that and so much more.

“I love the taste of you,” Luke whispered. “Even when we were running for our lives and showering was— how shall I put it?—infrequent, you tasted so good.”

“What do I taste like?” she wondered.

“Like Jackson.”

His lips fired her nerve endings. One slight touch against her neck and the most delicious shivers made their languid way along her collarbone and down through her belly. And then he moved, kissing another spot and this time the shivers zipped around her neck down her spine, centering right at the bottom and radiating out. How could she describe them? Like the kisses were actually inside, under her skin, but superfast, running and racing and sizzling. Jackson sighed and lifted a hand to hold onto the back of Luke’s head. His hair ran through her fingers, soft and silky.

“Luke,” she said. “Let me feel you against me.”

His breath fanned against the cool spots he’d just kissed and he laughed softly. “I’ll crush you, you’re so skinny.”

“I want to feel you,” she insisted.

“How is it you can make me do whatever you want?” he asked.

“Can I?”

“I think so. If you tried.”

“Then do this.”

He lowered himself, proving his point, until his whole body covered her, holding his weight on his elbows. Jackson sighed as his skin touched hers. Chest hair brushing against her nipples, his muscled arms against her sides, holding her in place. Then too she could feel the length of him between her legs and she smiled, because soon she would feel him inside of her and it would feel like nothing else in the entire world could. It would brush away all the worries about Sebastian and his crazy, amazing, plans for just a little while—plans that she had a nasty suspicion she was inexorably linked to. Because how could she walk away? The questions that had plagued her for the past two years could be answered now. Sebastian could answer them and she was too damn curious not to let him.

She was trapped.

By him.

By herself.

Worse, by the zombies still.

“So pretty,” Luke breathed. “I could spend hours just looking at you.”

Jackson sighed, letting Luke’s words carry away the thoughts of Seb and the dead and anything else. “You’d get bored.”

“Never.”

He moved his lips to her ear, pressing little feathery kisses, and she moaned, practically melting into the fucking bed. “No, no, no,” she said. “Not the ear.”

But he did, licking his way up and down the lobe until Jackson had to press her thighs around him, holding him in place, shifting beneath him, wanting, needing more.

He tugged on the end of her lobe and she pulled her head to the side. The sensations were too exquisite. They made her feel frantic inside, almost unbearable. A gentle hand brought her back to center and Luke took her mouth. His lips completely wrapping up her own, devouring everything she had to give. His tongue danced in and