“How are you looking at me, then?” I asked him. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did.
“I just meant I don’t see you like a piece of meat,” he said after a moment. “You’te… You’re more than your looks.”
“I know that,” I said with a small grin. “All I was trying to say is that I don’t mind you looking at me… Maybe because I know you’re not looking at me like a piece of meat.”
Joel looked at me for a long moment, his eyes searching my face before settling somewhere around my mouth. The wind howled outside, rattling the house, and Joel seemed to give himself a mental shaking before turning his attention back to the fire.
The storm blocked out the sun, and it was getting too dark to read, even with the fire crackling in the hearth. I snuggled down in bed, even though it was still early. I watched Joel kneeling in front of the fire for a bit, his shoulders tense and his eyes far away.
“Joel,” I said after a moment. He turned to look at me, and now I let my eyes search him, his eyes and lips, his shoulders and his arms. “Come to bed,” I said softly. He looked confused for a moment, and I patted the space next to me on the mattress. The confusion on his face changed to conflict as he deciphered my meaning.
“Fuck it,” he said hoarsly, and he pushed himself over to the bed, crawling in next to me. I pulled him closer, almost on top of me, the way he was that morning when he woke me to show me the deer. Only this time I pressed my lips to his. I felt him stiffen and then relax against me, his lips parting slightly and kissing me back. He kissed me for a very long time, his arms sliding around me as we rolled slightly on to our sides. One hand entwined in my hair, pulling slightly, the other cupping my cheek against his palm. He kissed me for a very long time as thunder rumbled overhead and the wind rattled the house.
When he finally broke away from me, we were both a little breathless.
“Amber, I-” his voice was low, barely a whisper. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why?”
“Because… Because I can’t… I’m…” his voice shook a little. “I’m not a good person.”
“I don’t think that,” I said softly, but he still pulled away from me.
“You don’t know me.”
“You risked your neck to get me out of the QZ,” I said. “You’re risking your neck again for your brother,” I went on. “Bad people don’t do so much for others.”
“Good people don’t do what I’ve done.”
“I don’t care what you’ve done,” I said. “I only care about what you do, here with me.”
Joel was already up, looking out the window, but the snow was falling too hard to see much. He sighed.
“Joel,” I said again. I stood up and crossed the room to him. He turned back to me, his hands shaking. “I don’t care,” I said again. “Whatever you did, that was in your past. You’re here with me now… And we’re safe and warm and comfortable, and who knows how long we have?”
I took his shaking hands in mine and pulled him closer to me again.
“Let yourself enjoy the moment,” I whispered, my lips brushing against his.
He kissed me again, and I pulled his sweatshirt over his head. In a perfect world, we would have both showered, I would have shaved my legs, my armpits and my bikini area, I would have brushed my teeth and put on perfume, but it didn’t matter. At least I cleaned up a little that morning.
Joel was there, he was warm, solid and handsome. The attraction had been there since I saw him scowling in the market square, and the affection had grown during our time on the road. And now…
Joel pulled my shirt over my head, taking a deep breath as my body pressed against his. We shed the rest of our clothes in a frenzy, moving back towards the mattress. We entwined in each other’s bodies, lips hungrily searching salty skin, hands roaming over intimate, delicate parts.
“If you keep that up,” Joel panted. “It’s going to be a very short ride.”
“Good thing I can go on it more than once,” I said with a sly smile. Joel huffed, and rolled on top of me, grabbing my hands and pinning them against the bed.
“If I’m going to do this, I’m going to take my time and do it right,” he said in a low voice. His lips traced along my chin and throat, down my chest. I arched my back as his lips whispered across my nipples, and his fingers found their way between my thighs. Comparing Joel to any former lovers, even before the outbreak, would have been comparing apples and oranges. He was tender, but purposeful, never wasting a movement. Everything was intentional, down to the way his tongue swirled across my nipple, the way his finger stroked me. It was exquisite. Finally, he pulled himself away from my chest and slid down, kissing along my stomach and abdomen until he came to where my thighs met. He did little more than slide his tongue along my skin, but shivers raced up my spine all the same. He looked up at me, a grin spreading across his face.
“You taste good,” he said roguishly.
“Then don’t stop,” I breathed.
And he didn’t.