Here be the first flashback chapter I've done in a long time. But I felt it needed to be done for some strange way, so here we go. And I'm not a big fan of how I wrote Jeremy. He sounds kinda . . . dick-ish, which is the antithesis of what I want him to be, but hey, that could just be me being paranoid. I'm prepared to accept that :)
HaloHunter89: What I was aiming for, was Jeremy did it because he worried about her. Like Abraham alluded to - they didn't know how many walkers were in that tunnel. So a big piece of the pie, was that he wanted to know she was safe . . . er, than going down that tunnel with them. That's what I thought while writing it, though.
DarylDixon'sLover: Thanks hun - your reviews are muchly appreciated :)
Rosita didn't ever remember being as attracted to a man, as she was to Jeremy Roth the first time he saved her from a Charlie.
It had been a stupid move of hers, really, and she'd be the first one to admit, too. After all, who did walk into a seemingly abandoned room in a seemingly abandoned house, without knocking first? Who honestly did that?
They had been running low on supplies – essentials, like water and dry food that lasted years – and it was Rosita's turn to go out with Jeremy and scavenge. They tried to stay away from the larger suburbs at first, but when it became apparent that they wouldn't be finding any isolated houses anytime soon, they said 'fuck it', and just agreed to watch the others back.
If he hadn't been watching her back that day, she'd be pretty sure she wouldn't have lived to head back to the others.
Something must have been on her mind – must have – because she didn't like to think she could be so stupid as to go barging blindly into a room with a closed door, unless she did. But when she did, what she found, ended up giving her the fright of her life. Immediately, a clammy, half-decayed hand latched onto her forearm while another grabbed ahold of her shoulder. She let out a shriek as a gaping, moaning, snarling black maw came out of nowhere and made an immediate beeline for her nose. Grunting and eyes wide, she grabbed ahold of the Charlie's forearms and kept its mouth away from her nose with all her might as its weight falling on top of her, made her stumble backwards. Her ass hit the second floor railing and immediately felt it bend under her weight. Her heart then proceeded to do a freefall, right into the pit of her stomach.
Great. Just great. So this was how she was doomed to go out.
But she didn't. There had been a sharp whistle that had cut through the air – a sharp whistle that immediately diverted the Charlie's attentions away from her. Rosita turned her head long enough to see a big, muscular guy – colorful tattoos blurring in his mad haste to get to her – march over to them and yank the Charlie off of her. He pinned him to the wall before sliding his knife cleaning into his eye. Teeth gritting, he slowly withdrew it before turning to her, where his eyebrows furrowed in slight concern.
"You okay, Rosi?"
Rosita could only stand there and gaze dumbly at him for a minute. She almost couldn't comprehend that someone had killed a Charlie for her and then actually asked her if she was okay afterwards. Abraham, he just . . . he killed whatever Charlie was overpowering her or whoever else and then went on his way – not once asking her (or the other person in question) if she was okay. That was why she had fought so hard to become independent, because she knew that Abraham didn't always fight Charlie's with his head in the game – just with pure, blind, unadulterated bloodlust. But Jeremy . . . he killed the Charlie, asked if she was okay and all with this . . . look of concern on his face. It was almost like he was actually afraid the Charlie had bitten or scratched her.
Queue that first primal tug of attraction.
Rosita gave him a smile and a nod. She knew there was a little blush on her cheeks as well, but he acted like he didn't notice.
If he had noticed, that was.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Tha -"
She never got done with what she was saying. She settled her weight more evenly on her feet to push herself off of the second-floor railing that she had been forced against, only to feel it crack and splinter and then eventually give way behind her completely. Her eyes grew wide, as did Jeremy's, and she saw him desperately reached out to her – to grab her and pull her towards him – but it was too late. Rosita felt her stomach lurch in that uncomfortable free-fall feeling and for a moment, she felt weightless – completely and utterly weightless. And then there came the jarring impact that caused pain to shriek throughout her body and which forced the breath from her lungs in a great 'whoosh' that made it where she couldn't breathe for a moment. Her vision spiraled – stars appeared along with static-y darkness that came and receded from her vision like the ebb and flow of ocean waves. There was the frantic pounding of booted feet on carpeted stairs and then someone was sliding to a stop beside her and she knew someone was speaking to her, she just . . . couldn't . . . understand them . . .
"Rosi . . . you . . .
"Rosita . . . you . . . okay?
"Rosita, are you okay?"
The last sentence came to her loud and clear, and Rosita nodded and gave a wince of pain as she slowly sat up, her hand flying to her head. "Yeah . . . yeah, I'm fine . . . I think." She told him and Jeremy had a look of relief on his face as he nodded.
"Good. I'd hate to have rescued you for nothing!" He laughed before sending a wry look up to the second floor where she had fallen. "Good thing it wasn't too high, huh? That really could have done some damage!" Rosita nodded as she took his hand and he helped her gingerly to her feet. She stood there, swaying for a moment as the world around her swirled again. She stumbled, caught herself on Jeremy's arm, and it took her a minute before realizing that hard wall she was leaning against, was Jeremy's body, and that the thing keeping her on her feet, was his arm wrapped around her waist in a vice-like grip.
Blush bloomed on her cheeks when the thought that his arm really did frame her waist in a very nice way, appeared, unbidden, in her thoughts. And when she turned her eyes up to his, she found them crossing paths with the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen. And they were filled with concern again, and amusement too, and her blush deepened as she averted her eyes away from his. Jeremy wasn't exactly a bad looking man – quite the opposite. He was a very good-looking man, in fact. He was lean and muscular whereas Abraham had a little bit of a belly on him. His skin was a beautiful bronze where Abraham's was a pasty white. He had this . . . gorgeous mop of light brown hair while Abraham's was that . . . orange-red color that wasn't all that pretty, now that Rosita thought about it – not compared to Jeremy's . . .
"Are you sure you're okay? If you're not, we can wait until tomorrow to head back. Find somewhere to bunker down for the night . . ." He asked, a laugh to his voice, and Rosita nodded and told him that she was indeed okay, when really, she wasn't. But damn him and his hawk-like observation skills. His smile grew a little softer as he looked around them at their surroundings. "I think here will be good for the night . . ." He murmured, more to himself than to her. And when he parted from her to secure the doorways for the night, his hands lingered on her hips. His thumbs moved across the warm flesh in-between the denim of her shorts and the cloth of her shirt and her skin immediately started tingling.
Queue the other tug of primal attraction . . .
And don't stop queuing it!
It didn't take Rosita long after that afternoon in the house, to slap the label of sexual attraction, on whatever it was that she was feeling for Jeremy Roth. And really, she didn't know why she hadn't realized it sooner. Every time he pulled on a jacket when it got too cool, his arms stretching out and tightening those gorgeous back muscles of his in such an amazing way, Rosita felt herself become lightheaded. Every time he looked at her with those beautiful blue eyes of his filled with amusement as she lamely tried to lighten the mood, she felt herself become captivated to the point to where she wanted to swoon. Every time he did the most minor, mundane thing, she thought not even a God could do it better.
But there was the hurt, too.
Despite her attraction to Jeremy, it stubbornly remained in those ten-to-fifteen minute fantasies she had whenever she lay there at night, allowing her mind to wind down for bed. She was with Abraham – she was Abraham's girlfriend – she could never allow herself to act on those feelings of hers. And even if she could, she doubted Jeremy would. Abraham was his best friend. They had fought overseas together, they had pulled each other out of gunfire and from the explosive ranges of bombs . . . Hell, Abraham had been leading the Marine platoon that eventually found him! She doubted Jeremy would betray that friendship for a woman – for her!
But despite those glaring facts, there were still times when she was tempted. She and Abraham had long since stopped having sex (she blamed it on the exhaustion they felt every day). Yet, she knew it couldn't be that – not completely. If it was exhaustion, would she really be tempted to follow Jeremy down to whatever river or body of water they might have had the fortune to camp by at night? Would she really be tempted to follow him, just to see that water glistening off his naked skin in the moonlight?
And what if she actually got there? What would happen then? Would she stay hidden – not having the balls to actually make herself known? Or would she suddenly grow a pair and make herself known?
And what would happen then? Would he invite her in with one of those shit-eating grins of his that were so sexy and so infectious? Or would he become outraged, borate her for thinking he would do such a thing, and then send her on their way, where they would be doomed to become nothing more but awkward glances and hurried small talk?
And what would happen if he invited her in -?
"Well, now don't you seem deep in thought about something?"
Rosita jumped, her eyes growing wide as the deep voice interrupted her from her thoughts. Her eyes snapped onto an amused looking Jeremy making his way towards her, and she gave a shrug. "Not much else to do when you're on watch by yourself." She mumbled, and he chuckled as he moved to lean against the wall beside her. Their eyes gazed out through the window in front of them, to the black parking lot asphalt below them and Rosita felt her breathing quicken from standing so close to him. She could smell him . . . salt from his sweat, that underlying musky male scent . . .
He smelled so good . . .
She thrust the thoughts from her mind and instead, focused on the crickets that chirped outside. She saw him glance at her from the corner of her eye. "You should be asleep. I've got this." She told him her voice icy, and he chuckled again.
"I'm good. I don't sleep that much anymore, anyway."
"What if I insisted?" She asked before she could stop herself, a defiant gleam appearing in her eyes and which she turned onto him with a cocked eyebrow. A look of amusement appeared in his eyes as he returned her gaze, and for a moment she thought she saw a hint of . . . challenge echoing in those beautiful blue depths.
"And what if I told you to make me?"
Immediately, the air between them seemed to intensify and Rosita felt her heart pick up a frantic thrumming in her chest. For a moment, she caught between the instinct to flee – the instinct that screamed to run before she dragged them both into trouble – and the overwhelming urge to continue whatever had started between them, desperate to see where it could go.
"Are you sure you should be asking me that?" She asked, and the corners of Jeremy's mouth threatened to turn upwards into a smile.
"Call me a glutton for punishment."
Rosita didn't know what to say. What could she say?
She instead gazed back out the window and for a moment, she thought the conversation had been dropped. However, Jeremy's quiet voice when he spoke, brought her back into the conversation she had thought dead.
"Look, I know about you and Abraham – I'm not stupid. That being said, I've also noticed how you've been looking at me lately. You haven't exactly been subtle about it." Rosita felt a flaming path of blush bloom across her cheeks.
"I didn't . . . I didn't think you noticed." She spoke, and Jeremy let out a bark of a laugh.
"Sorry. Next time, I won't."
She felt a flare of irritation at his amusement laced words, and glanced at him. "So those weren't just Eugene's eyes I feel on me all the time either?"
She saw Jeremy tense. A look of unease flickered across his eyes but it disappeared quickly. He gave a half-shrug instead. "Maybe. But can you fault me for it? I'm a straight man . . . you're a young, beautiful woman. I'm only mortal."
"What about Tessa?"
The entirety of Jeremy stilled at her words. In fact, if she looked hard enough, she could almost say, with one hundred percent certainty, that even his breathing had stopped. And indeed, while she had heard him talk about Tessa a few times, she didn't really know anything about her. All she knew was that Jeremy had been engaged to her before he left for Afghanistan and that he had loved her very, very deeply. He was looking for her on their way to Washington, too. But that was it. He never said anything more.
"What about her?"
"You would betray her by sleeping with me?"
"And you would betray Abraham in the same way?" He immediately fired back, one of his eyebrows arched in not an amused way, but a slightly condescending one. She looked away, her lips pursing and eventually, she heard Jeremy heave a sigh. "Tess isn't here, Rosi. And I doubt I'll ever find her. Its a big, huge world out there and a lot of people have turned into Charlie's. The odds of her being one of the ones who survived is . . . minimal, at best. And again, excuse me for being a man. As for Abraham . . ." He trailed off and looked away. "If he's not going to treat you right, then you shouldn't be with him."
"So I should leave him for you?" She asked, with an arched eyebrow, and Jeremy replied with another look of amusement.
"I didn't say that. And it wouldn't be a relationship, Rosi – not completely. I can't give you what I don't have. It'd be just sex. If, of course, that is what we are talking about, here."
Rosita gazed at him for a minute, feeling suddenly much younger than she actually was. Here she was, feeling like she was about to step into a mistake that she had made thousands of times before. Here was Jeremy, a very handsome man damn near twenty years older than her (if he was indeed close to forty like she thought and he hinted) and one of the most irresistible men she had ever had the pleasure to meet and lay eyes on. And could she really betray Abraham in the way he was suggesting – for just mindless, pointless sex? Abraham was good to her – she thought he genuinely cared for her in his own way, and despite the reasoning behind it, he did protect her. But . . . when he did, he didn't do so with that look of utter concern on his face like Jeremy had. He didn't hug her or kiss her or pay any attention to her anymore – they didn't even have sex anymore (again, primarily blamed on exhaustion). And yet, Jeremy was hinting that he could – that he would!
She had never before felt so young and inexperienced before. She had never before felt so uncertain of her decision-making before, either.
She looked away and she could see Jeremy's face soften. "Look, I'm not pressuring you into this, Rosi - I'm not a douchebag. If you don't want this, then we don't have to do anything. I can walk away now and we can never bring this up again. And likewise, if you ever want to end it, we can and never bring it up again, as well. I'm just . . ." He shook his head. His eyes seemed to take on a hard gleam that sparked a note of interest in her. "I've noticed how you've been acting lately – I've noticed how Abe's been treating you, and . . . I just figured I could help you find the release your not finding with him."
Rosita's eyes flickered to the group behind them – to everyone asleep in their sleeping bags grouped around the dying campfire. Her eyes lingered on Abraham's motionless form, and felt herself swallow a lump in her throat. She liked Abraham, she really did, but . . . it was like Jeremy said – she was only mortal. Could she be faulted for missing a man's touch? Could she be faulted for wanting to be held and kissed until she was breathless? Could she faulted for wanting to be intimate with a man again - to experience sex again? She didn't think she could, but . . . she hated feeling so weak.
She stayed silent for so long, that he eventually took it as a denial. Giving her a small smile, he moved to take a step back – to get away from her like he knew he should – like he knew she would want him to at that moment - but her body coming towards him made his eyes quickly latch onto hers and which brought him to a stop. His eyebrows rose as her hands appeared on his broad shoulders. Fluidly, he had picked her up in his arms before either of them could register what was fully happening, and his mouth covered hers. A slow burn immediately started somewhere deep inside her, with a fierceness that she hadn't felt in months and which shook her to her very core. Sensually, hungrily, he devoured her – his tongue stroking hers with an expert finesse that almost daunted her for a moment. This man obviously wasn't inexperienced.
It wasn't long before she moaned into the kiss, and his grip on her tightened in response. The lightheadedness she always felt whenever she was around Jeremy, worsened for a moment, and she felt like she was falling. But Jeremy did not let go of her – he did not allow her to fall - and the pressure of his lips against hers, did not waver in the slightest. She was being held – she was being kissed until she felt breathless . . . her hands shook as they moved from his shoulders to his neck.
After a moment, he slowly released her lips. She stared up at him, out of breath and utterly speechless. An ever-so-slight smile pulled at his lips and he pulled her towards him with strong arms; hands placed provocatively low on her waist. She felt a dull ache in her lower stomach and bit down on her bottom lip as she pulled him down to her. When they came together again, it was a little rougher – more frenzied. Their teeth gnashed together and their tongues fought for a dominance that hadn't been there previously. They pulled each other's clothes off as they pushed their way through a nearby archway, seeking out any flat surface. Buttons popped every which way – zippers and buckles broke and flimsy clothe tore at the seams. Rough hands pulled and yanked on her hair as fingernails dug into his skin, causing Jeremy to growl and Rosita to breathlessly moan her encouragement.
Her hands appeared on his massive chest and she pushed him back onto the nearest flat surface which just happened to be the only table in the room. She then wasted no time in crawling her way up his colorful body until she was straddling his hips. She felt his hard arousal through his jeans and let out an appreciative sound as his bruising kisses stopped and his teeth began an assault on the smooth skin of her neck and throat and shoulders. They nipped and sucked and bit at the smooth flesh as his hands grasped at her hips and thighs and her breasts and her nipples.
She felt warmth spreading throughout her body – a fieriness that encompassed everywhere he touched her and almost overwhelmed her. It was a fieriness that threatened to take away her senses and when he flipped them over and pulled her underneath him, she had forgotten what it felt like to have a man on top of her – deep inside her. She forgot what it felt like to have a man kiss her like he was dying as he made love to her. She hadn't realized she had been so starved for attention, until she was getting that attention; until she felt his mouth and his hand on her breasts before they appeared between her thighs.
She felt worshiped. She felt loved. And that was her first mistake when it came to Jeremy Roth.
If she had wanted to feel loved in the beginning of their relationship, then she should have stayed with Abraham.
"Hey . . ."
Rosita glanced at Jeremy as he moved over towards her, placing a backpack full of supplies as her feet as he did so. She smiled and said hey back as he leaned on the wooden table in front of her. Abraham and Eugene were heatedly debating their next course on a road map stretched out before them, and Evan was busy stringing their 'alarm system' across the only entrance leading onto the front porch. In other words – Jeremy and Rosita were experiencing a rare moment of privacy in an otherwise very unprivate world.
"Uh, we found as much as we could, but it's nowhere near enough to last us long. We'll have to go out again soon." He told her and she nodded as she picked up the backpack and placed it on the table in front of her, where she began unpacking everything.
"If you have to go out again soon, then you do. There's nothing we can do about it." She told him, and he stayed silent. His eyes ran over her, though, and she knew he could tell that something was bothering her. The last time they had slept together, had been on the floor of a bedroom in some deserted house they had been scavenging for supplies. It had been good. It had been very good. But afterwards, Jeremy had ignored her. She supposed this was her minor revenge: ignoring him like he had ignored her.
"Look, for whatever I did – I'm sorry. Again, whatever it was I did -!"
"Oh save it!" She interrupted him in an angry hiss, and his eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline at her words. She shook her head, her pretty features twisting into a look of anger. "Ignoring me after sex like I'm just some fucking bitch you had a one-night stand with! Fuck you, Roth!" She let another curse under her breath as she returned to unpacking the bag. He had been wrong . . . it had been a pretty good haul him and Abraham had brought back.
She wasn't about to let him know that, though.
It took her a moment to realize how tensed he had become at her words. "Ignore you? Rosita, I'm sorry if I was on high alert! Neither of us had bothered to be very silent, so sorry if I was worried we might have drawn Charlie's! Again, sorry if I had been worried about our safety opposed to cuddling and pillow talk afterwards!"
She turned her eyes onto his and found genuine irritation there and knew he wasn't making it up. And really, she did feel slightly guilty at that moment. She knew how safety orientated Jeremy was, especially when they were outside the group scavenging – it made plenty of sense.
It made an embarrassing amount of sense, especially when she realized that the both of them hadn't bothered to be quiet, he was right. But when they were outside of the camp, with no one around to hear them or find them, they could be as loud as they wanted, so she supposed they could be forgiven somewhat.
She shook her head. "I'm . . . sorry. I . . . I didn't know." She told him lamely, and the tenseness disappeared from his frame. Instead, he gave her a weak smile.
"It's fine. I understand. I should have . . . I should have told you." He spoke and she gave a weak, hesitant nod, one he replied with a look of interest. "And by the way, did you do something new with your hair?"
Rosita shot him a surprised look as her hand immediately flew to one of the black pigtails hanging over her shoulder. He was right – it was something new. She was tired of having her hair covering her neck in that insufferably hot way every day. Pigtails were cooler and apparently, more eye-catching.
She nodded. "Yeah, but it's nothing elaborate, you know? They're just pigtails." She gave him a small smile. "Thanks for noticing anyway, though." He smiled and leaned down so that he could whisper in her ear:
"Well, just so you know: you look really sexy with pigtails."
