From The Ashes (Life After War) (86 page)

Angela flushed, smiling a bit.

Marc knew his limit and gently guided her into the steaming stall.

Angela slid under the water with a groan. “Mmm... That feels good.”

Marc leered while she wasn't watching, memorizing the sight of her under the water.
Sexy! Mine.

Marc stepped into the stall with her and leaned over to tilt the other running shower head at himself. Aware that she'd wiped her face enough to stare at him the same way he had her, Marc spent a moment enjoying the heat beating on his shoulders.

Angela watched the water run over his hard body with growing desire. She wanted him–wanted to feel his hands on her.

“
Victory,”
the demon gloated.
“Finish it!”

Marc wiped the water from his face and took two rags from the shelf. He wetted and soaped them both before handing one to her. one of them.
“I'm going to.”

Marc's wash was quick and routine, while Angela's was a detailed scrub that took off the grime she'd accumulated in Little Rock. The sight of those soapy breasts gave him a deep ache. When she began washing those long legs, Marc swallowed a groan. He wanted her so much!

Angela twitched lightly when Marc began unbraiding her filthy hair and smiled tolerantly at herself. Maybe a bit of her jumpiness was simply a part of who she was now.

Marc washed the blood and filth from her hair, keeping her shoulders under the water to prevent her from getting a chill. He used his long fingers to scrub and rub until she was putty in his hands.

Angela groaned. “Nice, Brady.”

Marc smirked eagerly as he rinsed.
“You ain't felt nothing yet, Baby-cakes.”

Angela wasn't picking up thoughts–only the thick, sensual vibes of his naked body standing behind her. It was all so different than anything she'd envisioned.

Marc's hands slid around her as he finished, turning her so that they were both under the water. Angela waited for more, and when it didn't come, allowed herself to relax. Her arms came up to hold him, and she rested her cheek against his warm chest.

Marc stood with her patiently, letting the steam do some of the work for him.

Angela snuggled closer, skin perfectly warmed between Brady and the water. She was pressed along his hip and the feel of his hardness was sensual. Without societies society’s required faces and covers, Angela didn't think she'd ever been so drowsy or comfortable.

And horny
, she realized. Her nipples were hard rocks against him, flesh between her legs becoming slick. Did he know?

Marc nodded against the top of her head, pressed a soft kiss to her damp curls. “I smell it.”

Angela flushed, tensing self-consciously.

“
I'm supposed to. It's how I know your body's ready for mine.”

Marc took her hand and placed it on that part of him. He immediately sent his hand to do the same for her.

Angela jumped at the quick movement, and Marc gripped her thigh firmly as he slid his thumb over her soft folds in wide circles. With each pass, he narrowed the area until he was gliding through her slickness and brushing the sides of her clit.

Angela closed her eyes, unable to fight the sensations. He wanted to please her. She would let him.

Her hand hadn't moved on him, and Marc bucked eagerly in her grip. “Help me here, baby. Let's make some magic.”

Angela moaned willingly, stroking softly, the way he'd responded to during the moments that had led to this one. The feel of his fingers stuttering on her flesh was incredible, and she tightened her grip as lust flared hotter.

Marc shifted them and nudged her back against the wall with her towel draped over it. His thumb flipped the tip of her clit as he stepped between her legs and Angela arched.

“
Ooohh...”

Marc kept flipping, gently, hand growing sticky, mind sliding into a sensual daze where only they existed. A quick movement smeared that moisture onto her hand and Marc leaned his head back as she used it to stroke him with.
More!

Lust flowed unblocked and pleasure bonded the couple. Searing waves of light soaked them each time the other groaned or tightened their grip tightened in ecstasy. For this moment, Safe Haven and all it's worries were out there. In here was only heat and flames.

Marc moved closer, feeling her body tense as she neared the edge. Keeping his fingers in the same rhythm, he positioned himself to be ready for it, and sent his free hand to her rocky nipple.

Angela arched. “Oh, Brady!”

Marc's control broke, the demon's hot lust coming from nowhere to snatch rational thought.

Angela felt the mood change, but his fingers didn't stop, and she stroked faster, straining. “Marc... I...”

Marc felt the spasm as her orgasm exploded, felt her legs start to close. He thrust a hand between them, dislodging hers from his stiff flesh. He grabbed her thigh, holding it in place as his other hand continued to extend her waves of pleasure.

“
Now!”
the demon demanded.
“If you don't, I will!”

Marc eased forward, pushing through her cum to bump against that pulsing heat. He cupped her hips, tilting for the angle as she gasped in surprise. Her small entrance clenched against him... and then opened in welcome.

Marc shuddered. No stopping now. He shoved forward.

Angela tried to pull away as he pushed inside, and Marc's hard hands slid around her wet body, holding her in place. He wanted to stop, to comfort, but the feel of her!

He pulled out and thrust in again, grunting as he slid deeper. So tight!

Angela's hands on his shoulders were tight grips that raked those jagged nails across his skin with each movement. He trembled as he pushed in further.
Angie!

Angela caught the ecstasy and the intense desire, and faced her fear the same way she had every other challenge since the War. She spread her legs and tried to relax.

Heat like Marc had never felt rushed through him, and he lowered his mouth to hers, gasping.

Angela grinned as his pleasure began lighting up her nerve endings again. Coming to the final understanding that some discomfort was involved in sex, but the good outweighed the bad, Angela wasn't about to deny him the same pleasure he'd given her. “That's was amazing,” she said softly, still pulsing. “Your turn.”

Marc growled, shoving forward to sink himself all way in. When she shifted uncomfortably, he used his hands to hold her thighs open so that he could get that deep again.

“
Not yet!” the demon protested feverishly. “Not yet!”

Marc couldn't wait–it had been too long–and he jerked out.

Angela watched him, nipples tightening, heat flaring. She'd expected to sleep for a while, but...

Marc shuddered, head against her unscarred shoulder as he gasped for air and coated her thighs.

“
Again!”
the demon demanded.
“It wasn't long enough!”

Almost panting from the lack of oxygen, Marc leaned back to look at Angela and found the red eyes of the Witch waiting impatiently.

He laughed gruffly. “Whatever... you want.”

She pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, loving his rough breathing and twitches. “Just you, Brady.”

Angela ran a hand along his sensitive hip and was rewarded with a jump from softening flesh. “Two minutes still apply here?”

Marc covered her mouth with his and slid back between her legs. She was perfect.

Chapter Twenty Seven

1

Duty pulled Brady from Angela’s hot arms just after a pale dawn that still promised rain.

No one came to get him up–he’d crashed in the tent with her–but the alarm in his mind brought him to alertness, saying the herd was stirring.

Marc eased off of the air mattress and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders as she snuggled into the warm spot he’d left. He stole a minute, watching her sleep, then pulled on his jacket and boots, and quietly zipped up the tent behind him. He hoped everyone would give her a few more hours of sleep but knew it was unlikely when he spotted Kyle and Daryl nearby.

They didn’t speak to him, and he went to the Mess for coffee, understanding those two were her protection now that he wouldn’t be with her.

Marc spun to verify it and found both guards standing outside the flap, their backs to it–hands on holsters.

He turned around, slowing as he went by the noisy medical tent. He gathered himself as best he could, forcing his brain to act like nothing was wrong. It was a chore to conduct normal camp business, but there were lists and schedules and instructions and conversations, and Marc’s head started thumping long before it was finished.

It was almost an hour before he made it back to the QZ. He went to Kenn first, avoiding Adrian’s bedside–
his deathbed
, Marc’s mind whispered.

Marc knew that Adrian wasn’t better as soon as John met him at the flap. After quick eye-contact with the men, a nod to Anne, and a very fast glance at the curtains shielding Adrian, they stepped outside.

Adrian’s fever had risen as the infection grew. Around daylight, he'd begun to rant and toss. John put up a partition to give him privacy and then sedated him, sure Adrian wouldn’t want his men to view him this way. Other than that, there was little he could do but hope the antibiotics would smother the infection.

Marc’s heart was heavy as he went toward Angela’s center tent. What would they do without Adrian? Marc realized he’d finally caught what was going around. Adrian was reason they’d all come together, and nothing would be the same if he were taken.

2

“
He's waking up.”

“
Copy,” Marc answered. He was nearby.

After three full days of drinking at the table from dawn to pass-out, Mitch was looking and smelling rough. Every time he'd tried to get up, he'd been told to keep drinking, that it was his exit party from Safe Haven.

Marc slid onto the damp bench as their radio man opened bloodshot eyes.

“
Morning,” Marc called cheerfully.

Mitch flinched from the loud word. “Whass?”

Marc motioned Li Sing forward. “How about something to drink? That always helps, right?”

Mitch stared in baleful confusion. He barely remembered passing out here, but Brady's friendliness was still bright in his mind.

Marc tilted the cool beer up and let half of it chug down, controlling his gut.

Mitch again chose the whiskey instead of beer, and the two men spent a quiet moment of silence–one drinking, one thinking.

Around them, the camp was going about its morning rituals, while in the QZ, there was almost no movement.

Marc waited for Mitch to become alert and then glassy, for the bloom of roses to come into his cheeks. When he saw those signs, Marc switched from friend to teacher.

“
Adrian wants you gone. On your own.”

Marc didn't react to the immediate panic and denials. He told only the truth.

“
Kevin has your job now, Mitch. You have no value to him anymore.”

The radio man's head dropped, telling Marc he'd already figured that out for himself. Good. That made things easier.

“
Matt will stay here.”

Mitch began to cry. “Thank you for giving him another chance.”

Marc blinked. There was a real person inside there. Another insight he hadn't agreed with, but Adrian was able to see inside his people and find what would reach them.

“
That's why he's your leader,”
instinct stated firmly.
“It's also why he's damned.”
You can't recognize so deep a secret unless you've had the same issues. Adrian had been through this before–all of it.

Marc shook off the eerie thought that followed–
“We all have.”
–and got back to helping Mitch.

“
He thinks you'll die out there alone. That's why no order has come down on you yet. Is it true, Hopkins?”

The whiskey opened Mitch's mouth. “I survived before. I will now, too.”