Time of Zombies (Book 2): The Zombie Hunter's Wife (9 page)

Billy Joe stood in the doorway as
Ridgewood and Michelle walked past the cages of the Resurrected. The woman
gripped onto the large man’s arm and hid her face in his side. He wrapped an
arm around her and got her to the truck they’d driven to the church. Her whole
demeanor shouted her need for the big, strong man at her side.

A smile broke out across his face as
his erection turned to stone in his pants. As soon as the vehicles were out of
the parking lot and down the road, he reached and adjusted himself. The thought
of the petite and demure Michelle had him heading inside, looking for something
specific.

“Maya,” he bellowed in the church,
his voice bouncing off the walls back to him. The girl was in front of him
before the echoes died away. Just proved his point that women wanted to be put
in their place. Their hearts knew, you just had to get through to their stupid
brains.

“You wanted me, Billy Joe?” Her soft
voice and bowed head had him straining against his zipper.

He gritted his teeth and grabbed her
chin in his hand. Her dark eyes stared back at him with a fire deep inside, one
she tried to hide from him. He was going to beat the will power out of her,
even if it killed her. Showing her who was boss was fundamental. He could
always get another wife. Michelle’s gentle eyes and sweet face filled his mind.
He chose to overlook the large black man who’d already claimed her as if he didn’t
exist. As the woman had said, the strong were in charge.

“Get to our room. Tell Roberta to
see to my lunch personally. We won’t be leaving the bed anytime soon. We are
going to fulfill God’s word and be fruitful and multiply.”

“Yes, Billy Joe,” she whispered,
turning and running out of the church as if Satan himself were after her. He
smiled. Maybe he was. The world demanded equalization. For good, there was
evil. For God, there was Satan. If he were God, he could be Satan too.

He followed more slowly in her
footsteps. He’d allow Roberta time to be gone from their rooms. Even the
thought of his first wife was enough to deflate his sex drive and his erection.
The last time he’d taken her to bed he’d spotted silver among the dark strands
of her hair. If she hadn’t reached the end of her child-bearing years, they
were coming soon. Just the idea of putting her in the cages of Resurrected and
taking several new brides gave him back the hardness in his pants, plus a
little more.

He opened the door to their rooms in
what had been the church’s offices. Light filled the space from lamps on
several tables. The room had no outside windows, just four yellow walls and a
doorway to a back room for the wife he wasn’t using each night.

Locking the door, he turned to Maya.
She sat on a stool in front of a dressing table. The reflection of her pale,
naked flesh filled the mirror. Brushing her hair as he’d taught her. The glossy
brown tresses fell to her waist. A vision filled him of a long, brown braid as
thick as his wrist. One that had been glossy and shimmering in the pale light
of the church.

“Braid it,” he demanded in a loud
voice.

She jumped, but put the brush down
and grabbed a hair tie. Her fingers fumbled with the long strands. “I’ve never
braided my own hair.”

He came over and took the hair tie
from her. “I’ll do it.”

His breath came in heavy pants as he
divided her hair into handfuls and twisted them into a thick, heavy braid. If
he didn’t get out of his pants soon, he was going to split a seam. He pulled
the young woman into his arms, one hand pulling the braid and forcing her head
back. His mouth came down on hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. Behind
his closed eyes he saw Michelle as she’d stood in front of him, trembling at
his maleness.

He shoved Maya onto the bed. Her
pale arms reached for him. “Turn around. On your hands and knees.”

Confusion flooded her eyes. “I don’t
understand.”

He heaved a sigh and positioned her
body. Ripping off his clothes, he groaned as he gazed at the female on the bed.
Her plump ass faced him, her wide hips just right for grabbing. He put a hand
on her head and shoved her face in the bedspread. He found her opening, wet and
ready. Thrusting and slamming himself into her, he laughed as he wrapped her
braid in his fist and pulled her head back.

Her cries and then moans fed his
hunger. He closed his eyes and fucked her.

Michelle. Michelle. Michelle.
 Her name a mantra in his head, faster and faster, to match his
movements on the girl in the bed.

Rule #7   
A day that starts
crappy can end great and unfortunately, vice versa. Each day in the ZA is a
crapshoot.

“What do you mean we can’t help
them? I showed you the notes. Didn’t you read them? You wanted my opinion.
That’s what I went for, to get my views. The man is a lunatic and those women
are in danger. It’s as bad as a cult and they are his prisoners.” Michelle
tightened her hands into fists and pounded the table. Teddy sat at her side
with Jack and Seth facing her on the other side. She’d tried to keep her voice
down since they were in Seth’s motor home and Emily still rested in the back
bedroom.

“Michelle,” Jack said. “I’m not the
law. We aren’t the law. We can’t go storming into someone’s safe haven and
demand they let their wives go, no matter how they are treating them. You heard
the Governor on the radio last week. Max Rivers is organizing in Sacramento.
He’s trying to pull California back together.”

“They had a government and law
enforcement in the 1800s, but people still protected their own,” she argued.

Jack’s voice lowered. “I will
protect our own to my dying breath. But I can’t and I won’t go to war with
another group that’s done nothing to us. We don’t have to agree with their
beliefs but we have to respect that they have them. This is still America.”

She opened her mouth to speak but
the commander put his hand up.

“I’ve said no.”

Rolling her eyes and pouting
wouldn’t get her anything, but she sure wanted to do it right about now. It
sucked that Jack was right. Their hands were tied. All she wanted to do was
rush out of there and bring justice raining down on the poorly-named Fruitful
Harvest Church and they didn’t have the right to do it.

“Fine,” she huffed and jerked her
hand away from Teddy. She slid off the bench seat and headed for the door. Out
of the corner of her eye she saw the large man get up too but she didn’t wait.
She only eased the door shut out of respect for Emily; otherwise she would have
slammed it to vent her frustration.

Before she’d managed three steps,
Teddy was at her side. He grasped her shoulders and turned her. Pulling her in
close, she was enveloped by his unique sandalwood and man scent. She refused to
break down in public, for all to see. She’d always been a poor loser, but never
with such high odds as someone’s life.

“It sucks to see what’s wrong and be
unable to make it right.”

She looked up as Teddy’s voice
rumbled through his chest. “Are you reading my mind? That’s not fair. I can’t
read you at all.”

His hand reached for her cheek, his
warm fingers tracing the angry tears on her face. Eyes as dark as midnight
gazed back at her, with a fire burning deep inside. Her palm rested on his
chest, the heartbeat pounding against her hand.

“Can’t you?”

“Oh,” she whispered. Desire for this
man flooded her body. Her fingers tingled everywhere they touched him. His
smooth skin. His warm flesh. Warmth pooled in her belly and wetness dampened
between her thighs. Teddy seized each day like it was a present. Something to
be opened and enjoyed right away. The thought of opening his clothes and
enjoying him right away had her face on fire. The fire grew into an inferno as
he cupped her face and leaned down, his lips sweeping across her mouth. His
tongue teased and entered on her gasp. He tasted of coffee and cinnamon and
sweet syrup.

She surrendered to the feelings
rushing through her. The problems of the world would still be there tomorrow.
Today seemed to be a day of seizing her place in the world they faced. She’d
gone outside and lived to return. With a lot of help from this man, this gentle
giant, who astonishingly, wanted her. She arched her back, pressing against
him. He moaned into her mouth. Wanted her as much as she wanted him, evidenced
by the bulge in his pants.

“I want to take you to my trailer,
but Miranda and Cody are with me.”

She took his hand and pulled him
toward her motor home. “Come with me.”

Teddy slammed the door shut behind
them. She shook her head. In a daze they’d managed to get to her home and
inside. She fell into a chair to pull off her boots and socks. Teddy moved her
hands away.

“Let me,” he said as he knelt in
front of her.

Her mouth went dry as he lifted the
hem of her dress to her thighs. His calloused fingers trailed down her legs,
bringing shivers to her body. She sat back as he removed her boots and her
socks, rubbing and massaging each foot. A moan escaped her as his hands left
her bare feet and wandered up her calves, over her knees, and to her thighs.

Pulling her braid over her shoulder,
she removed the ribbon she’d tied there this morning.

“Please, let me,” he said as he
pulled her down to his lap and turned her around.

She straddled his thighs as his
fingers loosened the braid, untangled the strands, and massaged her scalp. He
moved the hair to the side and kissed the nape of her neck. She groaned as
sensations pounded into her center. Her fingers reached and gripped his thighs
as his lips found her ear, planting small, hot nibbles on the lobe, his teeth
grazing her pearl studs.

“Do you like it gentle or rough?” he
whispered in her ear.

“I—I don’t know,” she stuttered.
“There was only Mitch.”

“Well, I like it sometimes gentle
and sometimes rough, but I have to be honest, Michelle, I’ve wanted you for a
long time and I don’t know if I can be gentle today. I might want to take you
fast and hard until you scream for the whole camp to hear.”

His hand traveled up her thigh until
it rested on her wet panties. His fingers ran up and down the damp fabric. His
other hand grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her head back, forcing her back
to arch and a moan to escape her.

His mouth scorched a path of heat
down her jaw to her neck and her shoulder.

She groaned in sexual want and her
center flooded where Teddy’s hand rested on her. Her body moved, wiggling
against him, wanting Teddy inside her.

“Do you want me as much as I want
you?” he demanded in a husky voice as his fingers moved her panties aside and
slid into her wet folds.

“Yes,” she whispered as she bit her
lower lip.

“What do you want?” he asked as his
fingers sped up and pushed her toward the edge.

“I want you to fuck me,” she cried
out as the orgasm slammed into her, pulling her deep into the undertow. Her
fingers dug into his thighs, holding on for the ride.

Her breathing slowed as her heart
rate returned to almost normal. She loosened her grip on Teddy’s thighs as she
leaned back and rested on his broad chest. His hands came up to the buttons on
the front of her dress. They fumbled until she pushed them aside and undid the
buttons herself. She shrugged her shoulders and let the material drop to her
waist.

She was braless as she was most
days, using a tank top as an undergarment. His large hands splayed across her
chest, the heat of his fingers warming through the thin fabric. His palms
grazed her nipples and they rose painfully. She sucked in a breath as his
fingers found them, running the tips slowly over the hard points.

His hand grabbed her tank top and
pulled it over her head. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing. Turning her
around, he yanked her dress to the floor. She stood before him naked, the chill
air in the room making her nipples stand erect.

Teddy came up on his knees, his
mouth level with her breasts. He smiled just before he swooped in and engulfed
her breast into his hot, hot mouth.

She circled his neck with her arms
and held on. Each suckle tugged and started a chain reaction to her core. His
arms wrapped around her and held her up. When she didn’t think she could take
another moment, he gathered her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

He placed her on the bed and stepped
back to undress. Her breath came short and shallow as clothing fell to the
floor. His chest and abs were rock solid. She’d seen him before when she’d
gathered his clothes, but this was different. This was better. She nibbled her
lip as the boxer briefs joined the pile.

His erection stood at attention in
the midst of black curls on his groin. His muscles flexed as he reached into a
pants pocket and pulled out a foil packet.

“You carry condoms on you?” She
giggled as he moved across the room. As he neared, the laughter died and lust
took its place. Reaching for the condom, she opened it and slid it down on him.

“Please, I want you now.”

His biceps flexed as he lowered
himself over her. She ran her fingers over his shaved head and kissed him hard.
He entered her slowly. His mouth opened over hers. Their breaths mingled. He
swallowed her moan as he slammed home.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, please, more.”

He laughed and began to move. Her
hands grasped his shoulders and she held on. Lights flashed behind her eyelids,
the room began to spin, and tension filled her body. She was so close. Just a
little more.

“Michelle,” he uttered in a deep,
husky voice. “Look at me. Come with me.”

And she did.