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Authors: Bianca D’Arc

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BOOK: A Darker Shade of Dead
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Baby steps. He'd take what he could get because he didn't know exactly what he was hoping for. Did he want her to fall in love with him and commit to him completely? He wasn't sure. He was in wait-and-see mode, but one thing he wouldn't wait any longer for—
couldn't
wait, if truth be known—was making love to her.

He had big plans for later this afternoon. She'd better be ready because no matter what, he planned to have her before night fell again. All the other questions could wait. His desire for her wouldn't be denied any longer.

They shared a quick breakfast of cereal and canned fruit Sandra had found in one of the kitchen cabinets. Then, with a final round of instructions for Sandra and a warning to stay indoors at all times, Matt left. Sandra was yawning pretty good as they finished eating, so he figured she'd be fast asleep a good portion of the day. That ought to keep her out of trouble, but just in case, he set his own version of a nannycam to record her movements within the public portions of the house during the day. He could monitor her over his encrypted Internet connection and she'd never know.

He felt only a small twinge of guilt over spying on her. He rationalized that it was for her protection as well as to reassure himself that she was telling him the truth about where her loyalties lay.

Matt used his personal phone tuned to the protected Internet site that carried the signal from his house and monitored it periodically over the next few hours. From what he could see, Sandra cleaned the small mess they'd made in the kitchen that morning and then sequestered herself in the bedroom. Since he didn't have a camera in there, he could only assume she'd gone to sleep. He did have audio pickups, which recorded only the rustling of cloth and a couple of cute, feminine yawns.

She didn't emerge from the bedroom until six hours later. Even through the grainy image presented by the hidden cameras, she looked better rested, which pleased him. She'd need her strength for what he had planned later.

She also hadn't left the house or been in contact with anyone. For now at least, she was walking the straight and narrow. He wanted so badly to trust her but knew he couldn't be too careful. The stakes were too high.

For the first time since moving to Fort Bragg at the beginning of this assignment, Matt was eager—make that impatient—to get home to his little place on the edge of the woods. Why? The answer was simple. The woman waiting there for him made all the difference.

Bev seemed upset with the changes he made to the work schedule. He left her on day shift and put himself on discretionary timing that effectively put a monkey wrench into her usual surveillance of him while he was in his office. Good. Let her figure out how to keep spying on him when he wasn't in the office under her nose all day.

Matt was through waiting for things to come to a head. He'd always been a man of action and decided to make things happen instead of waiting for them to occur at their own pace. It was time to act. That was his best shot at controlling the situation and creating the outcome he desired.

That thought firmly in mind, he left Bev holding down the fort in an empty office and headed home.

 

Matt found Sandra dozing in his bedroom. A more perfect sight he had yet to discover, Matt thought as he unbuttoned his shirt, his gaze fixed on the woman in his bed.

Her beautiful green eyes opened. His movements must have woken her.

“What time is it?” she asked in an unconsciously sultry, sleepy voice.

Matt drew closer, shrugging off his shirt and letting it drop to the floor. She leaned up on her elbows, her eyes widening.

“It's time I made you mine, Sandy. No more waiting.”

The bed dipped as he knelt on the edge with one knee. She sat up, meeting him as he descended. Inwardly, he cheered her willingness. This was going to be memorable. Fast, but memorable. He'd waited too long to claim her to go slow.

Their lips met and he drank in her unique, delicious flavor as he lowered her to the bed, coming over her, one knee on either side of her hips. His hands went to work on her clothes, pulling the soft jersey knit top over her head and pushing her matching dark, knit pants down over her curvy hips. Within moments he had her dressed only in her white cotton bra and panties.

Those wouldn't last long, he promised himself, but he was sidetracked as her little hands swept downward over his bare chest to the button of his pants. He let her do as she pleased, enjoying the feel of her nimble fingers against the burgeoning erection that craved her touch. The brush of her knuckles over his length as she fought with the button and zipper made him catch his breath.

Finally, she got the pants undone and began to push at his waistband. He helped her with one impatient hand, swiping both the pants and his briefs away in one fell swoop, leaving him bare to her touch.

She closed her fist around his hard cock and he nearly shot through the roof. Finally.

He broke their kiss, nibbling his way downward to rest his head in the crook of her neck as he played with the soft skin he found there. She squirmed and he felt the rise of gooseflesh under his hands as she shivered in reaction. He took that as a good sign.

“Damn, baby. That feels good.”

“For me, too,” she murmured, beginning to move her hand in a stroking motion that drove him nearly insane with need.

He nearly gave in, but he wanted to take her with him this first time. He wanted it perfect. Both of them coming together.

Gritting his teeth, he lifted away from her touch.

“Don't go,” she protested.

He spared a moment to kiss her forehead. “I'm not going far. Promise.”

Matt reached over to his nightstand and stuck his hand into the drawer. Rooting around he finally hit pay dirt. A box of condoms. He wasted little time snagging one from the box and leaving the rest on the bedside table. No doubt, they'd be using them all. Soon. As soon as he could manage.

He fumbled the packet in his haste and Sandra caught it. He looked into her eyes and was lost. An impish grin graced her curving lips.

“Allow me.” Her sultry purr made his mouth go dry and his cock jump.

He sat back on his haunches, careful to keep his full weight off her thighs. He didn't want to crush her.

“Do it.”

He could barely get the words out. So many thoughts were racing through his mind. First and foremost, what had he done right in his life to get this amazing woman in his bed? Hot for him. No—
eager
for him. He'd died and gone to heaven, no doubt about it.

She reached out with slightly hesitant hands and covered him, dragging out the process until he thought he'd lose his mind.

She focused on her task to the exclusion of all else, her head in line with his cock as she sat up beneath him. He loved the single-minded determination in her expression, the appreciation in her eyes. She licked her lips and he almost lost it right there.

“Babe, you're killing me.” Her lashes fluttered upward until her gaze met his.

That was it. He couldn't wait anymore.

“Are you ready?” He reached backward with one hand, following the line of her leg downward to the inevitable place that waited for him. He had to make sure she was with him.

She moaned as sticky wetness met his questing fingers. He grinned with satisfaction.

Sliding one finger inside, he tested her depths as she writhed under him, their gazes locked. He added another finger, stretching her. Her hand fisted around him as she finished her task, squeezing in time as he pulsed his fingers into her in a few quick thrusts.

“I'll take that as a yes.” Fully covered, he shifted position so that he knelt between her stretched thighs.

Damn, she was gorgeous. Wet, willing, and waiting for him. Her skin was so soft and creamy smooth. So different from his own scarred carcass. He wanted to treat her like a fragile princess, but the devil in her eyes tempted him to let the demon inside him out to play.

“How do you want it, baby?” He lowered himself, lining up his entrance.

There wasn't going to be anything exotic about this joining. He had her where he wanted her and he wasn't going to mess around. She'd be on the receiving end this time in a straight missionary position. He'd get creative later, when they had more time. There were things he wanted to do to—and with—her that made him hot, just thinking about them. Later. For right now, all he needed was to be inside her. Fast. Simple. Hot and hard. As hard as she could take it. She was a pounding need in his brain. In his blood. In his heart.

Don't go there, he counseled himself. Time to think this through later. For now, all that mattered was her soft body under his, ready, willing, and waiting for him.

So what was
he
waiting for? The time for thinking was over. Now was the time for action.

“Tell me,” he repeated his question, wanting to hear her voice. She'd been uncharacteristically quiet, and he wasn't going to let her hide in silence. He wanted her full participation.

“Hard,” she whispered. The look in her eyes was almost his undoing. “Now, Matt. Don't make me wait.”

“No more waiting,” he growled as he pushed inside.

The slight resistance of her body told him she hadn't done this in a while. Something about the idea satisfied his caveman tendencies as he went deeper. When he was seated fully, he took a moment to savor the feel of her warm body around him, welcoming him, making room for him within.

“Damn, baby. You feel good.”

“You, too.” Her breaths came in ragged pants of air while he settled deep and adjusted his position. She was in for a hard ride. He only hoped he could keep it together long enough to bring her with him.

Without further discussion, he began to move. Slow at first, his pace increased rapidly. He'd known he'd have a hard time once he got inside her. He watched her response carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her behind. This first time he wanted everything to be perfect.

And perfect to him meant them coming together, sharing their pleasure. At least for tonight.

Matt pushed more heavily into her, speeding his pace. Sandra made adorable little squeaky noises in the back of her throat that were music to his ears. Her eyes were wild, half lidded and filled with passion as he watched her. She was so beautiful, she took his breath away.

“Getting there,” he whispered to her as his pace increased once more. “You with me, Sandy?” One of his hands roamed over her body, eventually reaching upward, drawing her gaze to his as he cupped her head.

She nodded weakly in response to his question. He let a grin lift his lips even as he thrust deep into her.

“Do you need more? Tell me what you want.” He was going to come and he would do anything to take her with him. “Tell me what you need.”

“You,” she answered simply, with a breathiness that made him quiver.

“You've got me.”

“Harder.”

The whispered plea sent him rocketing into her with added force. He gave her what they both wanted, riding her hard and fast toward the inevitable explosion.

When it came, he fell off the edge of the earth with her. Together they flew outward, toward the stars, her body clamping around his as she thrashed beneath him in ecstasy. He grunted as she screamed his name, a gift he hadn't expected and didn't know he'd wanted until he heard it. It sent him even higher.

Inevitably, when they fell back to earth, they did it together.

He rolled off her, collapsing at her side and drawing her into his arms. She snuggled close as he tried to catch his breath. He needed to clean up a bit before he gave into the exhaustion that rode him after the past thirty-six hours. For now, he'd take a few minutes to enjoy the afterglow of the best first time he'd ever had.

He wondered how explosive they'd be once they learned each other's preferences. She'd nearly blown his mind as it was. Give them a little time together and she'd no doubt ruin him for anyone else.

Funny thing about that startling thought—he found that he didn't really mind. For someone who'd always been a confirmed bachelor, Matt was starting to think in more permanent terms about this troubling woman. Would it bite him in the ass in the end? That was a distinct possibility. Only time would tell.

For now, he would enjoy their time together and let events unfold between them while pushing to resolve the mission as quickly and efficiently as possible. Once that was settled, he would see what was left of them as a couple. If she was as innocent as she claimed—which he fervently hoped she was—things would work out. He'd
make
them work out. If she was more involved than she wanted to admit, things could get more complicated.

Either way, he'd do his best to keep her safe and with him for as long as possible. This was too good to leave behind. Too good to waste. Too good to throw away.

That thought in mind, he gave in to momentary exhaustion and drifted into a remarkably peaceful sleep.

Chapter Ten

I
t was after dark when Matt woke suddenly. The whoop of a low-pitched perimeter alarm he'd installed on the property had dragged him from his satisfied stupor. He'd slept well beyond the time he should have been up and had them both out of the house. A quick glance out the bedroom window told him it was full dark and something was moving around outside. He could see shadows in the trees at the edge of the backyard. Shadows that weren't even making an attempt to hide their movements yet made very little sound.

“Shit.”

Matt vaulted from the bed and threw on the dark fatigues he kept close at hand, plus his combat vest. In its webbing, he had plenty of ammo, including the darts he'd need if his suspicions proved to be true. He shook the bed deliberately as he dressed, waking Sandra. She blinked at him with bleary eyes, coming awake more slowly than he had.

“Get dressed. We've got company outside.” He kept his voice as low as possible so anyone outside wouldn't be alerted to exactly where they were in the house.

Luckily, Sandra didn't ask any questions. She rolled out of bed and grabbed her clothes, dressing hastily. Matt spared a moment of regret for the fear in her eyes and the abrupt departure from what had been one of the most satisfying sexual experiences of his life. He would have liked to savor waking up with Sandra in his arms, but it wasn't meant to be.

Maybe someday, after they finished cleaning up this zombie mess, they could take some time off and spend a week or two in bed. Maybe a month. If they survived, that is.

She hustled out of the bedroom carrying her shoes as he pointed toward the safe room. The door was unlocked. Matt went in first to be certain everything was as it should be. The room was clear and he went directly to the monitors.

“Let's see what we're up against.” He flipped some switches and hit some keys to get different views on the monitors. As they flickered to life he got an idea of what was waiting out there for them. “Now isn't that interesting?”

“What is it?”

“Remember my former aide who went AWOL?”

Sandra's head appeared at his side, peering intently at the monitor as she slid into her shoes. He noticed she'd shut the safe room door securely behind them. Good girl.

“Tim, right? Damn. He's a first-generation infectee.”

“How can you tell?”

“No bite marks.” Her tone was grim. “Someone injected him.”

“Couldn't he have been bitten or scratched somewhere that doesn't show?”

“I guess, but if that had been the case, there would be some evidence—shredded clothing at least. From what we can see, it looks like his clothing is intact.”

“Good point.” Matt didn't have much time to ponder the implications at the moment, though they were intriguing. “Looks like he's got a small army of his friends out there with him, and they're all heading this way.”

Matt donned his headset and tuned into the combat frequency. He quickly relayed the situation to the others. While he talked and listened on the earpiece, he checked his weapons and made certain he had enough darts in easily accessible positions on his person.

“Roger. I'll do what I can till you get here. Over.”

Matt signed off the radio and turned to Sandra. “The rest of the team is close, but it'll be a few minutes before they get here. At the rate those things are moving, the house will be overrun well before the cavalry arrives.” He headed for the door. “Stay here. Watch the monitors.” He stuck another wireless earpiece into his other ear and picked her cell phone off the holder attached to her waistband. “Keep this on speaker and if you see anything I need to know about, tell me. I've got the team on in my other ear so if I start talking to them, disregard. Got it?” He connected the call and set her phone on the desk next to the computer keyboard.

“I can shoot.” Her tentative words touched him.

If he'd had time, he would have taken her into his arms right then and there. But he didn't have time. The creatures moved slowly, but steadily. He had to get out there and keep them away from the house as best he could until help arrived.

“Thank you, sweetheart, but no. I want you safe.” He couldn't resist laying a quick, smacking kiss on her luscious lips. He couldn't linger. He had to drag himself away. “There's a spare pistol and two clips of darts in the top drawer of the desk. Arm yourself, but whatever you do, don't open this door. Watch the screens. You can help me a lot by watching the monitors and relaying intel, okay?”

“All right.” She cringed, clearly unhappy with the situation. “Be careful.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but there was no time. He had to go.

“Lock this behind me,” he said as he opened the reinforced door. With a last look and so much left unsaid, he headed out, waiting only to hear the door snick shut and the locks engage before he took off down the hall.

Matt left the house in time to see the first zombie leave the tree line and step into the open area of the backyard. Luckily, this old house had a very large backyard. Matt had a good thirty yards between himself and his former aide.

Tim looked like shit. His skin was gray and there were dark brown bloodstains all around his mouth and down the front of his shirt. His eyes were flat and somewhat unfocused. His clothing was filthy. Formerly clean cut hair was hanging in long, limp, matted clumps on either side of his face. He moved at a steady pace toward the house.

Matt didn't hesitate. He fired his weapon, hitting Tim four times in quick succession, placing his shots in different parts of his body, spreading the toxic darts for best effect. It would take a minute or two for the toxin to take effect. Matt had to keep track of Tim while he dealt with the rest of the creatures behind him.

“Matt.” Sandra's voice sounded in his ear. “Tim must've made others. There are a bunch of them at the edge of the woods, and one looks more grotesque than the next.”

“Define
bunch
. I need numbers, sweetheart, and landmarks.”

“Sorry. Two are about ten feet behind by the giant oak tree on the left-hand corner of the yard. Then there's one a little to their right. Two more about midway and a group of three farther out in the woods on the right hand side of the yard. Nine total, including Tim.”

That sounded about right based on what he'd seen on the monitors before he'd left the house. They were getting closer, their paths still converging on his house. Matt didn't like that at all. It was as if they'd been sent specifically to attack his home. That would bear further scrutiny later—after this mess was dealt with.

“All right.” He spoke in a low tone that could just barely be picked up by the phone earpiece. “Keep track of them on the monitors. Alert me of any changes. I'm going to do my best to keep them away from the house.”

“Don't get too close. Those claws can do serious damage even if you're immune.”

“Yes, Mother,” he teased, even though he knew she was right. The contagion caused otherwise inert cells to grow and harden, giving the creatures strong claws and crazy, long, stringy hair.

He could see others approaching through the woods. These all had the telltale signs of zombie attack. One was missing both an ear and his nose in addition to other chunks of skin and tissue that had been ripped out by teeth—Tim's teeth, most likely.

One by one, they cleared the tree line and headed toward Matt. He concentrated his fire on one creature at a time. The toxin would reduce them to goo, but it took time to work.

Of the eight other creatures that Tim had probably made after being infected, only two were wearing uniforms. Matt would have to check to see who was missing from their duty stations. The others were wearing civvies. Three were female, dressed in skimpy clothing as if they'd been out for a night of clubbing just before they'd been attacked.

Now their short skirts and tight tops were shredded and stained with dried blood. Their once pretty faces were a horrid sight. They'd been wearing lots of makeup that was now augmented by a stomach-turning horror show of serious injury, bite marks, missing flesh, and dried blood.

Poor kids. They'd died too young and in one of the most awful ways Matt could imagine. He took his shots, believing he was performing an act of mercy.

Matt had plugged darts in six of the nine tangos he'd counted and reloaded twice.

“There are more of them coming into sight in the woods,” came Sandra's frantic voice over the phone earpiece.

“How many?”

“Too many!” she barked, then seemed to settle down. “I see at least six more in addition to the four that are now on the edge of the trees.”

As he scanned the huge backyard, zombie Tim finally disintegrated. He'd been only a few feet away from Matt when he went from menacing death dealer to a gooey mound of refuse on the grass. The other five creatures Matt had darted would be going shortly, but there were more to deal with while he avoided the ones he'd already shot. A tricky situation, to be sure.

Matt tongued the lip mic on the radio that connected him to the team.

“What's your ETA, Si?”

The combat team had been a little too silent in his other ear while he'd been talking on the phone earpiece with Sandra and shooting darts at anything that moaned.

“Almost there. A minute. Minute and a half, tops. We're double timing it.”

“Be advised, I've darted five of fourteen tangos. One is down for good and there may be more out of visual range of my equipment. Sandy's spotting for me.”

“That's a lot of targets,” Simon commented noncommittally. He was, like most of the men on his team, nothing if not cool under pressure.

“You're coming up behind, so I'm only firing once they clear the trees and I can identify them with certainty.”

“Thanks. I'd really rather not get a dart in my ass tonight.”

Simon's sarcastic reply made Matt grin even as he took more shots in rapid succession at new targets when they emerged from the tree line. The toxin in the darts disintegrated tissue on a cellular level. It was as destructive to live human beings as it was to the zombies, so darting one of his own people meant certain death. This was one case where friendly fire would be one hundred percent lethal. They all had to keep their wits about them.

Matt had to readjust his position in the yard to avoid the creatures he'd already darted who hadn't disintegrated yet, but he had the situation under control for the moment. More creatures emerged from the trees and Matt reloaded again. He was going through his stock of toxic darts quicker than he'd anticipated.

“Matt, three more just showed up on my screen,” Sandra said in his other ear.

Matt turned off the mic on the combat radio earpiece and replied to Sandra.

“You should be seeing Simon and the other combat troops showing up on the perimeter shortly. Keep an eye out. They'll be moving normally, so they should be easy to spot.”

“Thank God.” He could hear the relief in her voice. “I'll let you know when I see them.”

 

True to her word, Sandra let Matt know the moment she saw the cavalry show up on her monitors. She watched in awe as they coordinated their movements and took out the creatures one by one. It was really amazing how they worked together.

She watched the events unfold on the screens like she was watching an action flick. Only this was real and the stakes were high—life and death—you couldn't get much higher than that.

Sandra breathed a heavy sigh of relief when the last of the zombies disintegrated. The men searched the area looking for more, but none were found. After about a half hour, Matt came back to the house after setting up the combat troops in a protective attitude on the perimeter surrounding the entire home.

She met him at the door, finally disconnecting the call that had been her lifeline, her link to him while she was in the safe room and he faced the danger outside. She rushed into his arms for a much needed hug as adrenaline continued to surge through her body. The last hour had been a little too exciting and the night wasn't even half over yet.

Matt gave her a passionate, lingering kiss, but he broke away before she could get too attached. He turned to the monitors and took a quick look before motioning her toward the door.

“Simon's in the kitchen. I want to discuss a few things with the two of you before we decide where to go from here.”

Sandra was surprised she was going to be consulted on a safety issue but went with Matt as he walked down the short hall to the kitchen. Simon was at the window, peering out from the darkened room.

“I won't put on the lights, Sandra. Is that okay with you?”

“It's fine.”

She figured he didn't want anyone who might be somehow peering at them from the outside to know exactly where they were in the house. Sandra didn't understand how anyone could be spying on them with all the combat troops spread out over the property, but security was Matt's bailiwick. She'd do whatever he believed would keep them all safe.

She leaned against the kitchen table, which was just visible in the ambient light from the small night light left burning in the hallway. Simon leaned against the counter and Matt stood between them.

“Sandra, I don't want to scare you, but by now you have to realize that you're being targeted much more persistently than we expected. Do you have any idea why?” Matt's tone was grim and she hated the idea that he might doubt her loyalty. Especially after last night.

“Other than the fact that Dr. Rodriguez is a complete jerk who can't take no for an answer, I have no idea.”

“Matt, do you think this welcoming party being sent to your house tonight is because of her?” Simon asked. Sandra couldn't see his face but thought his tone held suspicion as he nodded toward her.

“I can't think of any other reason for a mass attack on my home, can you?” Matt turned the question back on Simon.

BOOK: A Darker Shade of Dead
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