"No." As short and simple as my first denial had been, only he was certain that I wouldn't randomly order someone's death to defy his.
I turned to face him with a loud sigh. "OK, let me try it this way. Either put me in with Daryl, or near Daryl, have someone drive me home, OR I'll fucking walk back." Arms crossed over my chest, I waited.
He was glaring at me, not as heated as it could be, but clearly I wasn't behaving as he expected. Well too fucking bad, buddy. "It's too late to head back," he ground out through a clenched jaw.
"Then I guess I'm bunking with Daryl." I offered, turning back to the door. "Yell for a minion and have him-"
He'd come up behind me, I could feel his heat, but before I could say another word he turned me around to face him. "You're still the most infuriating woman I've ever-" and then his mouth attacked mine again, and I wish I could say I fought it. The feeling of his lips against mine, the temptation of his flicking tongue, the way his hands roamed down my arms. I wanted to, or my brain did at least, the rest of my body wouldn't comply.
My fingers clenched into his hair, holding him to me as my lips met his movement for movement. My tongue refused to lie still, instead choosing to play with his. And the moan he earned when his hands pressed into my lower back, forcing our bodies tight against one another was clearly a dead on hit. I want to say that I fought against him pulling my shirt over my head, or that he removed his jacket by himself. That I didn't unzip his jeans, that I didn't help him pull my own pants free. I wish I could say that I didn't sigh when our naked bodies touched, that I didn't moan when my back met our bed. I want to be able to say that Negan was fully to blame for the way our bodies came together, but I can't. Every thrust he gave, I parried. Every nip, every bite, every scream and moan, we were partners.
I just wished, once we were panting and pressed together in the afterglow, that it meant something. I truly wanted us to be able to recapture what we had before- but that was the biggest prayer that couldn't be answered I'd ever entertained. Because I knew, as I slipped off to the first truly restful sleep I'd had since he went to Lucille's bedside, that as soon as morning dawned, I'd be leaving him. And this time, I had a feeling it would be truly permanent.
I heard him when he woke up. I'd been up from the first lightning of the sky. A coward, I guess, since I wanted to have his warmth for as long as I could before I demanded to be returned to Alexandria. To my family and my son. To my own people. But I'd be lying if I said I hadn't missed the feel of his skin pressed against mine. The mornings where we'd wake up so tight together that it would startle us. The way he stretched, without ever releasing me from his embrace. Or how I knew he wanted me, even without the dreaded morning wood. I missed the man I fell in love with, but I knew, as I felt his hardness against my back, that this man wasn't him. The man I fell in love with disappeared before the world went to shit. And while this one wore his face, spoke with his voice, it wasn't Negan. Or at least not the Negan I thought I knew. My Negan.
"I can actually hear you thinking, Amara." I closed my eyes at the sound of his voice, that growl all husky and dark that was only found upon waking. "You still want to go back, don't you?"
I nodded, feeling a pain blossoming in my chest at the thought of it, but Trey's tiny face came to mind and it lessened slightly. "Yeah, I do." His arms were wrapped around me and I could feel his stress at the thought of it. "It's where I belong."
"You belong with me," quiet again, but loud enough for me to hear. "I know that I lost the right to think it, Amara, I do. I just-" I felt his lips touch the top of my head. "I need to explain, or try to."
"I'll let you have your say, Negan, but then you tell someone to drive me back." Negotiation, just like when he was selling cars.
"Deal," and then his lips met my neck and I arched back into him. "But first-" I was on my back and Negan was reminding me of one of the many reasons that I missed him.
We dressed, I ignored his offer of my own clothing, including fresh underwear. I didn't trust it. Seeing my own things, knowing that somewhere nearby were the women who kept him company, in every sense of the word, would send me running mad. Once we were seated on our former living room furniture, Negan glaring at me when I refused a drink or breakfast, I told him to tell me what he thought I should know.
"I didn't know you saw the selfie," no shit, I wanted to say, but I waited. "It was ONCE, Amara. One fucking stupid time, and I regretted it from the fucking moment it happened." I raised an eyebrow but still didn't speak. "She was a customer. She came in after-" He leaned back against the sofa. "After your parents died," I flinched at the memory. "Do you remember me going for my checkup?" I nodded, yeah, vaguely. "I had told you that I wanted to do everything with you, Amara, and so I asked the doctor to do a complete workup. I mean he checked everything." I was confused about what the point was, Negan was healthy as a fucking ox. "Including my sperm count." And now I was truly fucking bewildered. "Lucille and I hadn't gotten pregnant," I'd hope you hadn't, since you're a man, fucker. "And it made me wonder. I got the results, everything was fine, but I'm-" he sighed. "Sterile. I can't be a father, naturally at least." And? "I don't know why, Amara, but hearing that I couldn't have a family with you, that you wouldn't get to glow from carrying my baby, it flipped my idiot switch."
"Should have had that fucker removed," I muttered, but he kept going, ignoring me for now.
"She came in, looking like the exact opposite of everything that I fucking love about you, and I flirted. She flirted, and the next thing I know-"
"You slipped and your enormous cock slipped in?" I deadpanned, because fuck him, that's why. "You had a midlife crisis and ruined our future. Congrats. Can I go now?"
"Damn it, I'm not finished, Amara." I clenched my jaw and waited again, with a glare forming. "It was once, I don't even fucking remember taking that fucking picture. And then she was calling all the time. And texting all the time. If I'd known you saw it, fuck that would have made it fucking easy. She was threatening to tell you. Hell, if you'd scrolled up, you would have seen that she took a picture of you walking from class. It scared me shitless, Amara, this fucking crazy woman-"
"Who you fucked, Negan," I bit out. "You fucked her. You gave in to whatever fucking temptation you want to call it, and then she went psycho, according to you. You created a mess, then you wanted to what? Ignore it?" I stood up. "You had your say, Negan, now call whomever is taking my ass back to Alexandria and you can get back to servicing your women."
"They're not you," he offered and I rolled my eyes. "Not a single one of them could hold a candle to you. And there's so fucking many of them because not a single one of them is the FULL FUCKING PACKAGE that you are." Another eye roll. "Damn it, Amara. I did this-" he stomped to the closet that I had completely ignored and yanked the doors open. There it was, my entire fucking wardrobe, including shoes. "And this-" He opened up the drawers of my dresser and I could see all the lace and satin of my lingerie. "And this-" Another closet door yanked open and I saw IT, my wedding dress still in the plastic garment bag hanging between his own clothes. "Because I can't fucking let you go. The furniture? It SMELLS like you. I sit on that fucking couch and I remember you riding me after school." I had a flash of lust at the memory. "That fucking chair? I bent you over it and made you scream using just my fucking tongue. There's still a tiny stain on the arm. OUR bed? I tried to keep from having to wash the linen because your perfume lingers on EVERYTHING."
"And the furniture-" I jerked my head to where they had been waiting for him.
"We never used the fucking family room." Fair. "It didn't smell like you, or remind me of making love to you, then I didn't fucking care." He was back in front of me, tilting my head up with a finger under my chin. "Every single thing you see that I've brought here, that is yours or was in our house, is here because I fucking NEEDED it to keep me sane. Anything that reminded me that you were fucking real, Amara Kendall. That you loved me. That we had a fucking future before all this fucking shit. I would have walked through fire to keep it."
"So they haven't played dress up with my-" he growled and then my back was against the door and his mouth was back on mine. The force of it made me lose my breath, his fierceness, the way he seemed tortured almost convinced me to stay, but then along with Trey's face I saw Eric's and Steven's and I pulled away. "I still have to go back, Negan." His forehead was on mine. "My family-"
"Is MY fucking family too, Amara." He sighed. "Eric, Steven, and if you'll fucking let me, Trey too." His eyes were locked on mine. "Let me love you again, Amara. Please?"