I paced the room faster and faster as I spoke, as though to physically chase my train of thought. “No one has actually seen the virus spread from one person to another —” approaching the fireplace “— though we know entire communities get Infected at the same time —” striding to the closet “— but maybe that’s just how the Noble Forces keep anyone from guessing their involvement. Plus the microchips explode when the Infected are killed or captured!”

Only then did I realize I had forgotten to breathe, and I drew in a long breath as I turned back toward Rekkan. He had pulled his pants up again and now sat with his hands planted on the mattress on either side of him, motionless and silent.

A bout of nerves fizzled my excitement. Rekkan had served for the Noble Forces. What if he refused to believe me? 

I flopped down on the bed beside him and grabbed my mother’s book. “In this book, my mother asks what better future the Noble Forces are fighting for. I… I know they helped you, but maybe no one understands their true goal.”

Silence.

“Rekkan?” 

“Present.”

I swallowed and fiddled with the bent corner of the leather book cover. “Please say something. What are you thinking?”

He leaned back a few inches, gaze flicking toward the ceiling. “I don’t know. It just sounds a little…”

A pang jabbed my chest. I laid the book down beside me and fisted my hands on my lap. “Crazy?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. Then he dropped his hand over mine, warm, rough fingers enveloping my cold ones. “If this all is true, we’re not looking for a cure for an Infection. We are facing a mastermind plot from the most powerful remaining force in humanity. How would we fight that?”

I gnawed on my lip. “Your bionic leg was made at the Noble Forces headquarters in Etherland. That must be where they manufacture and control all of the microchips. We need to find a way to shut it all down.”

His thumb traced over the back of my hand. Stilled. Then he said slowly, “How sure are you, Zaf?”

“Very.” The certainty in my own voice surprised me. “I know it sounds crazy, but if —”

“Then we’ll go to Etherland.”

“— you’ll hear me out, I — wait, what? Really?”

His head tipped down and up in a slow nod. “Yep.”

I furrowed my brow. “I didn’t expect you’d be persuaded so easily. I know you trusted the Noble Forces. Served for them.”

He shrugged. “I trusted them, yeah. But I trust you more.”

The rush of nerves and excitement spilled into something else, something that squeezed the breath from my lungs and glued my eyes to his lips. “Rekkan?”

“Yeah, Zaf?”

“Can I kiss you right now?”

He drew in a breath, and his eyes locked on mine. Then he propped one hand on the mattress behind me and, carefully, tenderly, brushed his other hand over my ear to thread into my hair. His gentleness seemed to require as much muscle as lifting heavy weights or swinging a machete. His shoulders bunched, his thigh clenched, his chest muscles tensed. 

When he leaned toward me, his uneven breaths tickled my nose and lips. Inches away, he stopped, eyes darting between mine. “Are you sure you want this, Zaf? You don’t need to do it for me. Even if you never touch me, I’ll still —”

“I want it. I need it.” In that moment, the words had never felt truer. I had only exchanged sexual favors for things I actually needed. I never understood how anyone could allow lust to bypass logic. Now, the need for Rekkan’s skin on mine surpassed even the need for food. 

More like the need to breathe. 

“I need you, Rekkan.”

Before he had a chance to react, I closed the space between us. When my lips touched his, he froze for a moment, lips smooth but ungiving, like marble. Then he softened… reacted… devoured.

His hand planted on the small of my back and swung me over onto the bed. His elbows caged me and body pressed over mine, and his lips crushed mine, tongue slipping in to tangle with my own. When I uttered a groan, he jerked back an inch. 

I took advantage of the space between us to unzip his coat.

While he tugged off his coat, I unzipped my own and jerked my arms free. He watched me with a heady amount of interest. A warm laugh bubbled up from my chest, and my usual sarcasm threatened to spill free. Never seen a guy take off his coat before?

But before I could form the words, his lips trapped mine again. 

All sarcasm drowned in the soft warmth of his lips against mine and the gentle strength of his hands, one on my shoulder and the other meandering down my cotton-clad chest. He kissed my cheek and trailed down to kiss the stubble beneath my jaw. Then his lower hand closed over the seam at the bottom of my shirt.

He growled a command with rugged, lustful forcefulness: “Take this off.” 

Alarm broke through my own lust, and I stiffened beneath him. 

His hands slipped to the mattress at my sides, and his eyes and voice softened. “Zaf?”

An automatic response twisted my tongue — the shirt stays on — but I stopped myself. Instead, I said, “You know why I don’t like to take off my shirt...”

His brow ticked together, and his chest raised with some response that his jaw clamped down on. Then he spoke with the slow caution of one building a tower of cards. “If you mean the… I’ve already seen it, Zaf. Why don’t you want me to see it again?”

I swallowed again, hard enough I felt the ball of saliva all the way down. Voice barely audible, I said, “Because it’s ugly.”

His shoulders caved with his exhale. With a breathless laugh, he shook his head. 

“Ugly? You are so fucking sexy, you don’t even… everything about you appeals to me, Zaf. Every inch of you.”

Oh. I chewed on my lip to fight the sting in my eyes. Bad time to cry, Zaf. Crying would definitely destroy the mood. My eyes remained dry, but my voice croaked. 

“So it’s not just the fluffy hair?”

“No. Not just the hair.” Holding himself off of me with one hand, his other lifted to brush the curls from my forehead. “Though I do really like your hair.”

“I surmised.”

He smiled, though his brow remained furrowed. “So… can I take off your shirt or not?”

With a deep breath, I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and shimmied it off over my head. With the shirt still balled in my hands, I met his gaze. For several seconds, he only looked me in the eyes, his expression at once triumphant and overwhelmed, as if breaching the peak of a mountain and gazing up at the sky.

Then slowly, his eyes dropped to my chest.

And his hands followed his gaze.

And then his lips.

He saw and touched every part of me, the smooth skin, the hardened nipples, the scattered chest hairs, the ugly scars. Under his gentle fingers and supplicating lips, every part of me became beautiful… and every part of me raged with desire.

When I pressed a hand against his chest, he stopped and pulled back, searching my face. “You good, Zaf?”

I remembered the way he had studied me after propping me against a tree outside the minefield. You good, Southie? At that time, a hint of unwilling concern had breached his unflappable demeanor. Now he spoke as though his entire world hung on my answer.

I pulled at the fabric of his flannel shirt. “Why is this still on?”

He fumbled with the buttons for a brief moment, then grabbed the bottom of the shirt and stripped it off right over his head. My fingers traced the hard abs, the pecs, the collarbone. He watched my face, smiling broadly enough to display those obnoxiously perfect white teeth. 

I slipped my hands behind his neck and yanked his face toward me. When his lips crashed into mine once more, my back arched to press my chest flush against his.

Rekkan groaned and twisted back to glance at the fireplace. “I should have started that fire.”

“Didn’t you?”

A dark chuckle, and then his hand slipped between us to skirt the sensitive skin under the edge of my waistband. “If I take this off, you won’t be cold?” 

“If you don’t take it off, I’ll probably burst into flames.” 

But when he tugged my jeans and briefs off, trailed kisses down my belly, and took me in his mouth, I burst into flames anyway. His hands continued to explore my chest, his lips suctioned over me, and his tongue swirled, but the sexiest part of all was his eyes. Fixed on mine and burning with lust. Enraptured by my rapture.

On the brink of losing control, I slid my fingers into his hair and jerked his head back. “Wait, stop. I’m gonna —”

His panting breaths spilled over my wet skin. “Go ahead.”

His lips closed over me again, and hot pleasure overtook me in shuddering waves. When I had completely finished, he shifted to the side and slid up to lay next to me.

I rolled to my side to face him. “What about you?”

He smiled, skimming a hand up my shoulder to sift through my hair. “What about me?”

“Do you want to fuck me?”

His eyes widened, and the smile dropped. “That’s, uh… a bit fast, isn’t it?” 

I raised my eyebrows. “Fast? We’ve been living together for weeks. In apocalyptic time, we might as well be married.” 

When his cheeks pinkened and throat worked, I silently cursed my choice of words. Now I was really scaring him off. I scrambled for a quick recovery, but he spoke first.

“Anyway, we don’t have lubricant.”

I shrugged. “Saliva works fine. I’ve done it plenty of times.”

He shook his head. “Zaf, I… I don’t want this to be like your other times.”

I exhaled a shaky laugh. “Trust me; it’s not. But if you don’t want to fuck me —”

“I do want it.” His hand curled over my hip, and his eyes sizzled on mine. “But not tonight. Tonight, I just want to see and touch you.” 

“Maybe tomorrow, then?”

A flicker of a smile warmed his face once more. “Maybe.” Then his fingers slid up from my hip to my chest, grazing one of the larger burn marks. His expression darkened, a subtle creasing of his eyes and tightening of his jaw. “Your father is lucky.”

Whatever I had expected him to say, it wasn’t that. I blinked at him for several seconds before managing a question. “Lucky how?”

“Lucky he’s dead.”