Page 44 of Doomsdate

Okay, maybe more like decent. I was decent. But I kicked and zapped my way through a horde of the undead and didn’t hide in a tree once. I was there when she needed me.

“So, is it a newly discovered zombie kink? Or, yikes, maybe an old zombie kink? Or was it those”—she swipes at her cheeks, chest rumbling, as she hiccups—“big—felt—hats?”

“I was thinking about you,” I blurt out.

Maisie’s laughter stops abruptly, her eyes wide. “Oh?”

“Er, your proposition, I mean. The sex lessons.” I twist on the bench to face her, feeling more confident than I have in ages. Maybe I’m not great with gory decapitations, but I will happily electrocute every zombie who dares get close to her. I can, really and truly, help protect her, and I know, without a doubt, that I can make her come. Maisie’s lips part subtly, taking in the determination in my eyes, and the memory of our kiss barrels back, heating me from the inside out. I want to gather her in my arms, then press her back into the ground and bury my face between her thighs. I want to growl, make her scream from the force of her own undoing. And then, I want to fill her up with my hard, aching cock and teach her everything that I know about the kind of pleasure that melts you down to nothing but fire, until finally you cool and form once again, anew. Most of all, I want to give in to this want I haven’t known in years. I want to feel things again.

I want to be her professor.

“When do we start?”

Chapter Ten

Maisie

I wait until the lilac light glazing the morning mountains resolves into a gleaming, brilliant white to enter the tent. I hate to rouse Everett after so little sleep, but the urge to move now that the sun’s risen over Shenandoah’s rounded shoulders, to find our next haven before the zombies rise again, is a restless, demanding itch.

Or it could be the promise of sex. There’s that.

The fever in Everett’s eyes when he agreed to our sex lessons was a drink of pure adrenaline—I couldn’t have fallen back asleep if I’d tried. While the sight of his massive erection swinging wildly as he fought zombies was truly absurd, the thought of what must’ve come before, when I was asleep in the tent and he had his big hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of me, is not.

It fills me with heat. A nervous, giddy heat that’s as surprising as it’s intense. I decided to have sex before I turned thirty, but I didn’t realize I’d want it, too, that the practical striving to meet my goal would be paired with a physical yearning I’d feel in all my softest places.

Everett’s eyes are closed now, his dark lashes resting lightly against his cheekbones. His lips are parted, pouty in sleep, and I feel a strange urge to lean over and kiss him awake like he’s a princess in a fairy tale instead of a hot professor in a horror story.

“Everett?” I whisper, not wanting to wake him and yet wanting those eyes focused on me. I shake his shoulder lightly, but only Chicken stirs from her spot curled up against his chest, one of her eyes slowly winking open to regard me, then closing again with a distinct but friendly fuck off. “Time to wake up,” I try again, this time a little louder, as I hover over him. “Eve—”

“Wha—” His eyes spring open, finding mine above him, and he rears back, grabbing Chicken and yanking her to his face like the covers. She does not approve, yowling and launching herself out of his arms. “Oh. Maisie.” His chest rises and falls rapidly as the fear gripping his face is replaced by relief. He sits up quickly.

“Sorry—didn’t mean to scare you.” I haven’t woken anyone up since…well. Maybe ever? No matter how early I’d rise growing up, Mom was always already awake. I used to wonder if she slept at all. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He blows out a deep breath. “I didn’t piss myself.” He pauses. “I think.”

A small laugh hiccups out of me, which Everett rewards with a smile of his own. I suddenly realize how close we are, and a blush floods my neck. I back out of the tent ungracefully. “I’m going to pack up out here and radio Gramps, check in and let him know we’re leaving for the day. Can you take down the tent after you’re dressed?”

“Oh, yes. We’re well acquainted.”

I leave him to it, gathering up our supplies and stowing them back in my SUV. When I slide behind the steering wheel and turn on the portable ham unit, it’s with a small smile of my own.

“CQ, CQ, CQ, Gramps, this is Maisie-girl, come in.”

“Maisie-girl! Thank god,” Gramps replies immediately, his voice more garbled than usual through the speakers. “I didn’t realize how long twenty-four hours could be till I had to wait to hear from you again.”

The warmth in my chest spreads through my limbs; I’m relieved to hear Gramps’s voice, too. “I’m fine, Gramps, I promise. How’re you feeling?”

“Hold on a sec, need to get my partial situated.” There’s a pause, then, “Ah. That’s better. Damn fake teeth won’t stay in right. As for me, I’m still healthy as an old mule with a heart condition, but I’m the least interesting topic right now—spill it, girl! What’s going on out there? Where are you? Are you somewhere safe right now?”

“Yes, in Shenandoah National Park, taking the route you and I discussed. Mostly empty like we thought, but there was a run-in with some rangers last night. Dead ones.” My eyes scan the white woods surrounding the car on reflex. “Nothing we couldn’t handle, though.”

There’s a long, staticky pause. “Did you just say we?”

I brace myself, fully aware that I’m a grown woman and Gramps isn’t actually my grandfather or anyone with any authority over me, for that matter, and yet anxious to confess all the same. “Everett’s with me. My, uh, date?”

“The professor?” Gramps asks incredulously. “The son of a bitch that ran off claiming you were about to Misery him?”

“That’s the one.”