Wind shook the truck, howling around it with an unnerving, eerie shriek. The rain was coming down in sheets, so thick she couldn't see anything beyond the hood. It pounded on the roof of the pickup, drowning out the sounds of their breathing and making conversation damn near impossible.
That was okay. They didn't have to talk.
But it was a hell of a storm and getting worse all the time. She figured it had to be the remnants of a hurricane coming up from Florida and a strong one at that. It seemed like hurricane season but she couldn't be sure. Daryl would probably know.
He was slumped under the wheel, drumming his fingers on his thighs and staring off into space. She was curled up against the passenger side door, body turned to face him and knees pulled up to her chest.
"Daryl," she said quietly.
He couldn't hear her over the storm outside.
"Daryl," she tried again, louder this time, and was surprised at the strange, desperate tone to her voice.
He sat up straighter, eyes meeting hers, and she knew he'd heard it too. His eyes narrowed, brows rushing together.
She opened her mouth to ask him what month he thought it was but she knew he couldn't hear her. Throwing caution to the raging wind, she scooted her way across the seat, closing the gap between them until her lips were near his ear.
"Daryl," she started again, losing the words that had been on her tongue.
It was silly, juvenile, but she felt overwhelmed at his nearness. His broadness, his warmth, his smell. His hand landed on her bare arm, his fingers warm and calloused. Hesitant, he bent his head closer, straining to hear words she wasn't saying.
"Daryl," she heard herself saying again on an exhale, her breath rustling his shaggy hair, blowing hot across his ear.
He lifted his head to meet her eyes, his own narrowed and searching. And they were so blue in the dim light. She felt herself trembling, needing, wanting.
He must have seen something, read something in her expression. He jerked his hand away from her arm as if he'd been burned, seemingly just realizing that he'd been touching her bare skin, but his eyes never left hers. She couldn't hear his breathing but she could tell it was coming short and shallow. She could see his chest rising and falling.
She wasn't sure what had happened, what had changed between them in that tense, heated moment.
Surprising both of them, she boldly reached for his hand and tugged it back, flattening his palm against her cheek and leaning into the warm roughness of it. He swallowed hard, she saw his Adam's apple bobbing, and brushed his thumb over her lips.
They parted and she saw his eyes widen as she pressed a kiss against the fleshy pad of his thumb. He made to pull away again but her hand covering his held it in place.
She tugged his hand downwards, trailing his fingers over her neck and down her chest before she cupped his palm over her breast, molding it to fit the curve. Only a thin, worn layer of cotton separated her soft flesh from his rough fingers. She tightened her grip and he squeezed her breast involuntarily, letting out a quick, harsh breath.
He bit down hard on his bottom lip, white teeth gleaming in the blue darkness, and she found herself leaning forward, leaning closer. He looked pained, desperate, squirming in his seat but as soon as her lips touched his, he stilled.
His mouth was slack, his lips dry and chapped, but it still felt good. Felt right. She melted against his chest, her hands cupping his face and tilting his head to find the right angle. She felt, rather than heard, him groan as her tongue hesitantly slipped between his parted lips.
There was a warmth, a tugging, a need deep in her gut that urged her on despite the uncertainty. She had wanted him, really wanted him, for so long. She knew that now.
He let her weight press his back into the corner between the seat and the door, his wrist twisting awkwardly between them to keep his hand firmly fixed on her breast.
She found herself on her knees, chasing his lips as his head lolled backwards. One hand dropped from his face to trail down his neck, over the rough material of his shirt, to slide beneath the hem and brush against the hot skin of his belly.
His hips bucked upwards as her fingers played across the waistband of his jeans and she heard him whimper faintly, his lips falling away from hers.
For a moment, they both fell still and simply stared at one another, their breathing heavy. She wanted to ask him if this was okay but she just watched him, licking her swollen lips and brushing her thumb over the rough denim just above the fly of his jeans.
And then his free hand was at the back of her head, yanking her forward to crash her lips into his. It was fumbling, wild, all teeth and tongues. Her hand slipped, palm flattening against the hard, straining length of him.
He hissed, hips bucking up off the seat again. And then she was tumbling back onto her ass, tugging at his shirt to bring him with her. She wasn't sure if he would follow but he did, twisting around to cover her body with his as best he could in the small space they were given.
Her head bounced off the passenger side door as she stretched out across the narrow seat but she barely noticed the stinging pain at the back of her skull as his lips found their way to her neck, his hand sliding beneath the hem of her shirt.
His hips settled between her parted thighs and she moaned softly, fingers tightening on his shoulders as she felt him move against her hesitantly, curiously.
"Daryl," she heard herself say again, soft and desperate, for it seemed to be all she could say tonight.
The rain showed no signs of stopping as they rocked the truck in time with the raging wind, two desperate people clinging to each other in the darkness. Tomorrow he probably wouldn't even be able to look at her but tonight…tonight it felt right.