Page 27

Tipping my head back, I let the rain stream over my face. It tasted earthy as it dripped into my ears and mouth, my primal brain not caring that I was exposing the soft palate to virus particles.

I wanted to take my cock out and use the rain as lubricant. But I wanted August more. Besides, my hands weren’t free. I had all this damn firewood for some reason.

August wants it.

Great. Then I’d give it to him in exchange for a fuck. And if he didn’t like that idea, I’d hit him over the head with it and fuck him anyway, really show him who was boss.

I dumped the firewood on the porch when I reached it, the loud noise extremely satisfying. Perhaps it would bring my friends running.

Your friends?

Other biters.

They’re not your friends. You’re not like them.

Not yet, but soon.

You don’t know that. There are plenty of people who’re infected for years, who never turn.

I stared at the firewood while the argument raged in my head. August could come out and get it if he wanted it so much. Why the fuck should I do everything for him? The arrogant prick needed to learn that the world didn’t revolve around him, and I was the perfect man to teach him that lesson.

My cock throbbed in time with my heartbeat as I approached the door. I was so fucking hard it hurt. I needed to bury it in something tight and hot that gripped me just right.

A sound erupted from me when the door refused to open, more bellow than words. Grabbing hold of the handle with both hands, I put my back into it, determined to pull it off its hinges if that’s what it took. I wanted in. No, not wanted—needed. I needed in. I needed August. I let out another bellow when my attempts proved unsuccessful.

And then there he was, face appearing in the gap in the door where there’d once been glass. So fucking pretty. Long eyelashes. Sharp cheekbones. And perfect lips that would look sublime stretched around my cock. I wanted to shove it as deep in his throat as it would go and watch him choke on it. I’d fill him so full of cum that it would bubble out between his lips. I’d smear the excess over his face. Mark him. Let him know he belonged to me and that from this moment on, he served no other purpose but to please me.

Then I’d flip him over and shove my saliva and cum-covered cock in his pretty little arse and pound him until he begged me to stop and I came again. By the time I finished with him, he’d smell of cum and it’d be dripping from every orifice. I wouldn’t let him wash. Not until he begged. And then when I eventually let him wash the stink off, I’d do it all over again until my balls had no more to give.

I reached for him through the gap in the door, August stepping back before my fingers made contact. His lips were moving, but my head was so full of white noise that it may as well have been a foreign language. It took a supreme effort to concentrate on the words.

“...need to say something, Keaton. Because right now you’re acting like one of them.”

Them? Who? He wasn’t making sense. He needed to stop being so damn selfish and just do what I wanted. All he had to do was open the door and bend over.

“Keaton…?”

Talk. He wants you to talk. They don’t talk. You do. I worked my mouth, what should have been easy, taking immense effort. “Let… me… in.”

It was good enough, relief flashing across August’s face. “Okay,” he said. “You haven’t turned. That’s something at least.”

I slammed my hand against the door, repeating the one phrase I’d worked out how to say.

“It’s not that simple,” August said. “You might not have turned, but you’re still a threat.”

“Not… a… threat.”

“Now who’s lying?” His gaze dropped to my cock straining at the front of my jeans. “And it doesn’t take a genius to work out what you’ve got planned.”

I kicked the door this time. “Fucking cocksucker!” Words came more easily when I gave in to the molten flow of fury. “Open the door, you fucking piece of shit. You’re going to take my cock, and you’re going to thank me for it.”

August’s expression never changed. “Yeah… about that. I don’t think so.” He cocked his head to one side and regarded me silently. Then he nodded, as if he’d decided something. “Give me the crossbow.” He held his hand out, fingers hovering on the other side of the door in expectation of my following the instruction. I passed it through, the gap only just wide enough. It wasn’t like I needed it to fuck. “Now, your knife.” I did that too. “Now turn around. Arms higher.”

I didn’t realize his intention until something cinched around my wrists and pulled taut, and by then it was already too late, August tightening the knot. Anger erupted from me, words spilling from my lips with no conscious idea of what they were.

The door opened, the crossbow—my crossbow—leveled dead center at my chest. “You wouldn’t,” I said, my voice hoarse from whatever verbal diatribe I’d gone on.

August’s lips quirked in something close to a smile. “Oh, trust me, I would. I haven’t survived this long only to let one stupid mistake finish me off. Don’t confuse me with someone who won’t do whatever’s required.”