"It was like they waited to tell each other things that had never been told before. What she had to say was terrible and afraid. But what he would tell her was so true that it would make everything all right. Maybe it was a thing that could not be spoken with words or writing. Maybe he would have to let her understand this in a different way. That was the feeling she had with him."

― Carson McCullers, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

"Merle what the fuck are you doing?" Jen stepped up into the RV to see Merle shoving her clothes and few personal belongings into her duffel bag.

"What does it look like?"

"Like you're either stealing all my shit or you got a job with Merry Maids and if that's it you suck at housekeeping. You are making a damn mess of…" The proverbial lightbulb went on in her head. "Oh no, you don't…oh no…"

"C'mon darling you're coming with me."

"Oh, I am?" She stood arms across her chest an incredulous look on her face.

Merle swung the bag over his shoulder and sidled up to her with purpose. "You're mine now sugar. This is how I operate." He whispered the words all hot breath and rough promise in their tone. Jen shivered despite herself, but her nature wouldn't let her stifle another protest. "Who do think you are? Telling me what to do? This isn't the stone age…."

He put his finger over her lips and chuckled, loving her fight. "No, it ain't, but as for who I am, I'm your man." He didn't miss her sharp intake of breath and went on, "Know what that makes you don't ya?" He snaked his free hand under her t-shirt and slowly caressed her breast then guided it down her belly. His touch was gentle yet she knew his hands were powerful. She loved these hands, big with long thick 'workman's' fingers. He reached the waistband of her jeans and panties together and continued down, inside.

"My woman." He then tugged on the zipper of her denim cut-offs, causing the inseam to put pressure and friction on her clit through her thong. "Shit…Merle" She gasped feeling a burn low in her belly. She leaned into him intoxicated by his scent, all earth, sweat motor oil leather, and smoke.

"MMhmm…you were saying sugar?"

"Fuck it. Okay fine, but just to try it out. Hate this damn RV anyway…too close quarters."

She reluctantly pulled away when Carol and Dale ascended the steps and stopped short seeing her with Dixon.

"So you're moving out?" Dale asked raising an eyebrow.

"For now, I think everyone could use a little more space," Jen explained as Merle left the RV without a word to either Carol or Dale.

"I'm only doing this because I hate staying in that RV and having everyone in my business." Jen caught her breath and continued to speak as she jogged beside Merle to match his long strides up the hill toward his tent. "Get that straight right now Merle. You aren't making me do a damn thing."

Merle shook his head loving her husky drawl when she was fired up. "Oh, I ain't?" He shot back baiting her. "You just keep telling yourself that girl." He turned his head so she wouldn't see him smile and kept his voice as mean and ornery as he could.

"What? Fuck that, you're just lucky I don't mind tent living or your damn snoring." She responded, hearing the smile in his tone despite his best efforts to hide it.

After a week, Jen was still insisting that living together in Merle's tent was temporary. Just an experiment.

… …. …. …. .. … ..

Morning chores were finally a distant memory that faded with the soreness in Jen's neck. She rolled her shoulders releasing the stiff ache created by, not only physical labor, but also the discomfort of polite conversation couching mean curiosity in every banal word. Jen had scrubbed clothing on the old washboard, talking to Carol about missing her old may tag knowing what the woman really wanted was to ask how can you be with Merle Dixon? She hung sheets out to dry with Lori as the brunette droned on about her role in the PTA and the responsibilities of being a sheriff's wife back in the old world. Jen knew she was holding her tongue about Rick and Merle's bad blood. God she needed a drink. Hell, it was past noon. She retrieved a bottle of bourbon from her tent. Their tent she corrected herself with a shake of her head and flutter of excitement in her chest she couldn't deny. Merle, shit Merle. Her smug bastard. Was this working? Yeah, she supposed it was. It took the whole world to shit the bed before she found a man left standing to call her own. Sure he had his faults which didn't. He was rude, crude with a hair-trigger temper and questionable beliefs, but he was honest and never pretended for one second to be anything other than himself. He was also the bravest man she'd ever known after her daddy. Merle would protect what was his with his life. She remembered when he'd said the group saw him as the devil, and he'd asked her. "What do you see huh?" She saw a man. Her man.

"Its happy hour somewhere in the world." She commented to no one and sat on the log in front of the fire they kept stoked all day. She took a long swig of the bourbon and let the amber liquid burn its way down her throat settling like a warm glow in her stomach.

When Merle strode into the camp area, she offered him a drink. He shook his head and Jen felt the tension radiating from him.

He stalked back and forth fists clenched, snarling and spitting fury.

"Hey, what happened babe?"

He clenched his jaw and his nostrils flared. "Goddamn Farmer Greenjeans and Bitch Cassidy and the Sundunce kid! Like to get all our asses killed."

"What they do?"

"That goddamn band of traveling idiots listen to those morons..."

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

She heard Merle breathe out of his nose in frustration, and he walked toward the woods, more than likely to punch a tree. "Don't you come after me begging me to talk about it neither." He shouted.

She smiled and held up her bourbon using the bottle to gesture to him. "Don't you worry. I just want to finish my drink." She took a swig and looked into the fire, feeling kind of smug, knowing he'd be back.

"I'm goddamned pissed off Jenny and you ain't gonna stop me from being pissed off…"

"Got it." She nodded.

"So leave me be!" He shouted. She could feel Merle glaring at her, and she glared back while taking a very small drink of her whiskey.

Merle felt his anger begin to dissipate slightly as he looked at her; even in daylight the fire made her skin glow and made her green eyes reflect specks of gold. She was relaxed sitting there in frayed denim cut-offs, legs kicked out, ankles crossed in her motorcycle boots and her breasts accentuated by her form-fitting plaid flannel. She drank shots without the usual grimace that took over most women's faces. She seemed to take pieces of his composure that had fallen away and put them back.

"They got biters in the barn." He said dropping heavily beside her.

"What?"

"You heard me. They're contained for now, but Rick and Greenjeans wanna have a discussion about it. Discussion my ass! We load every rife on the place, open them doors and pick off every damn, dead motherfucker as they file out. That's what we do."

"And Rick disagrees with that? What about everybody else?"

"Never thought I say this, but Walsh, that grade-A douchebag, well at least he's smart about this. "

"What about Daryl?'

"Goddamn, little fucker is siding with Rick on this. My own damn brother!" Merle shot to his feet again the fuse of his anger re-lit. "I'm thinking you me and Daryl get the fuck out. I'll drag his goddamn sorry ass with us. Kicking and screaming... I'll do it...He's gonna listen to me dammit!" Mere roared the last words.

"Mmhmm." Jen nodded calmly, watching his face redden and his chest heave. He took a deep breath and whipped his head around looking for something.

"Get on."

"What?"

Merle motioned to the chopper with his head.

"Aww, hun...I just finished working, I wanna relax with my drink...I wanna keep not talking about the Walker barn situation. Sit baby."

"Get on the fuckin' bike Jenny." He ordered, pulling on his leather jacket on.

She knew now was not the time to refuse anything he wanted. Or needed.

"Fine."

… … … …

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her breasts into his back, squeezed her thighs around his hips and leaned with him around the tight curves. The hum of the bike's motor vibrated beneath her, wind whipped and exhilaration coursed through her. For so long she'd wanted to ride with him, to feel the thrill of speed and freedom compounded by the near constant electric charge produced by the close physical contact of their bodies pressed against each other.

After a few miles, Merle began to slow down so Jen relaxed her grip. Released from the necessity to hold on, her hands were free to take full advantage of her position behind him and explore. Through his heavy leather jacket, she could feel little save for the obvious strength, the pillar of easy confidence that anchored her to the back of that bike. It also caused butterflies to flutter deep in her stomach. She slid her hands down to his thighs and relaxed against him. She inhaled that intoxicating masculine scent, letting it take her mind to a place where nothing existed, but sweat-glistening skin and fevered heartbeats racing together toward a common goal. Feeling her fingers squeeze a little firmer and her breath on the back of his neck, Merle knew exactly what was going through her head at that moment; almost automatically his body responded in kind. This was what he needed; a ride on his bike and a ride on his woman.

A few minutes later Merle turned off the main road and drove them down a secluded trail that twisted and turned through a blur of golds, greens, and burgundy. They reached a grassy clearing shaded by an overhang of low branches. He pulled off under the trees and killed the engine. Placing his hands over hers on his thighs, he took a deep breath and relaxed back against her. He let the last of the tension that the bike ride didn't alleviate be taken by his woman. She trailed light kisses on the back of his neck for just a few moments, then reached up to loosen her hair, and run her fingers through it. The wind picked it up and brushed it across his cheek, and as it did, she leaned back reflexively to get it out of his face.

Merle reached back, grabbed a fistful of it and yanked her forward. For several miles he had endured her subtle seduction, felt her body contoured against his, and her hands lightly kneading the muscles of his inner thighs, so expertly straddling the bike. He had been powerless to stop her roving fingers. Now it was his turn to take control. With his grip tangled in her hair, he pulled her mouth to his, his tongue seeking entry past her soft full lips. She opened to him and eagerly her tongue met his; she felt her stomach flutter and her breath catch. Blindly her fingers worked to unzip his jacket. He quickly shrugged out of it, tossing it haphazardly into the grass, and took the opportunity move her into a more favorable position. Before she could register what happened, or how, he had her sitting in front of him, her legs draped over his thighs, hands on her back, dragging her closer as his mouth assaulted hers

Although Jen had started this game, finding herself, self now situated practically in his lap gave her pause. His effortless dominance, however, left no room for protest; any resistance she might have had melted away as a rush of heat rolled over her, settling deep in her pelvis. Her purple lacy thong quickly became saturated with arousal, its scent mingling with the heady aromas of earth, grass, and dew. With a small whimper betraying both her surrender and her need, she melded her body against his, her hips instinctively seeking his and she felt the proof of his own desire straining against the confines of his jeans.

Sensing her growing arousal, evidenced by a low moan deep in her throat, he loosened his hold and ran his hand up her back to the nape of her neck. His fingers intertwined in her hair and she ran her tongue along his lower lip, reaching the corner of his mouth and dipping into again dance with his tongue. She became lost in his commanding, hungry kiss. Every stroke of his tongue pulled a part of her soul, her very being, into him. She knew this man.

Merle pulled away and made quick work of the buttons on her shirt. Her skin was practically tingling in anticipation. She felt her nipples harden before he even touched her, pebbling against the rough lace of her bra, aching for his lips, his teeth. Merle leaned back to admire the sight of her reclined on his bike. Her hair blowing in the breeze, shirt opened and half pushed from her shoulders, the swell of her breasts threatening to spill from the purple lace. Her face flushed with need, her eyes betraying the depth of her want, and her lips still wet and glistening from his kiss.

The look in his eyes took her breath away though not nearly so much as when he ripped her shirt from her, grabbed her tits, and buried his face between them. Her head fell back, her hands blindly reached for him and urged his head to an aching nipple as soon as he tore off her bra. She felt him flick his tongue over it, then draw it into his mouth, gently sucking and biting at it until a moan escaped her lips. The feel of it sent electric spasms shooting into her belly. As she straddled the bike and Merle, she pressed down against her clit and rubbed her pussy through her jeans for just a moment, seeking some relief from an ache that would not abate. Instead, the contact sent a swell of heightened arousal through her pelvis, a sweet heat pooled between her legs as she heard him chuckle.

She bit her lip and pulled his shirt up over his head and sent it to join his jacket in the grass. He looked unbelievably sexy, half undressed and straddling that powerful machine. Better still, she knew he was already rock-hard. All of a sudden she wanted that hardness in her hands, in her mouth, She needed to caress it with her tongue.

She looked in his eyes and saw barely contained raw need simmering. Jen knew he was holding himself back from pulling her off that bike and taking her right there on the grass; from pressing her knees to her shoulders and burying himself deep inside her. That look was nearly her undoing. But this was not something to be rushed. Not today. Very lightly she ran her fingertips from behind his ears, down his neck to his shoulders, barely touching. She leaned in to taste the skin that her fingers had just made more sensitive, all the while her hands explored his chest and abdomen causing the muscles to ripple and tense. She slid around his back and scraped her nails along his skin, then down to his waist to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans.

Merle knew where she was headed, and though he desperately wanted to feel her mouth sliding down over his cock, he stopped her. Again she looked up, now with smoldering eyes and her lower lip caught between her teeth, ready to follow his lead. He dismounted, and swung her leg over the bike with him. He leaned down to kiss her, a little more fervently now, and slid her jeans over hips, leaving her in just her lace panties.

He kneeled before her and eased her back against the seat of the bike and positioned one leg up on the gas tank. His hand ran the length her leg from ankle to inner thigh, savoring the silken softness of her warm skin. He teasingly ran his finger along the edge of her panties, then, looking directly into her eyes, he slid it inside, saying "Ladies first darlin."

Jen groaned with pleasure at the longed-for intrusion. Her pussy was warm, wet, and so slippery that he added a second finger and curled them upward, stroking her inner sweet spot. Her head fell back in pleasure and her eyes fluttered closed though they quickly flew open to watch what he was doing next. He pulled aside the lace barrier and she felt his tongue slide between her lips, dipping into her, then over her swollen clit before reversing course. He leisurely licked up and down, finally settling back on her clit. He circled his tongue around it, eliciting soft moans from her though she tried to keep her hips still. When he slid another finger into her and pulled her now nearly throbbing clit into his mouth, between his lips and teeth, she couldn't hold it back any longer. Her fingers flew to his head, grasping is short hair, pulling him closer, seeking more, her hips slowly undulated back and forth to fuck his fingers.

More quickly than even she would have thought possible, she came all over his hand and in his mouth, suppressing a cry as the climax rolled through her. Satisfied and almost gloating with how easily he could get her off, Merle stood up to kiss her. She tasted herself on his lips; it was sexy as hell and turned her on all over again. "Always so polite with your ladies first, huh?" Jen panted out determined to get her mouth on his cock.

"You're welcome." He chuckled.

"Uh uh, didn't say thank you yet."

"That's it baby" Merle groaned as she slid his jeans down just enough to free his very hard member. One more kiss and she slipped off the bike to take her position in front of him. His dick stood proudly, hard and soft at the same time, hot and velvety. She gave herself only a moment to admire it before running her hands up his thighs and watching it twitch when her fingers brushed along the base. By this point, she wanted him as badly as he needed her.

She wrapped her fingers around his cock, and slowly ran her tongue over his sack, then up the length of the shaft. Reaching the tip, she circled her tongue around it once, licked her lips to wet them, placed them on the head as if to kiss it, then slowly sheathed his cock deep in her mouth. She heard his graveled breath push out short moans; looking up, she saw that he was watching her. She maintained the eye contact for several long moments as her tongue stroked and massaged him and her lips slid up and down altering pressure and texture in just the right places. With one hand, she used her palm and fingers to work his cock. She applied her mouth, her swirling tongue, in the most amazingly incredible ways, while her other hand cupped and rubbed his balls, her fingers sliding back and forth. The firm but gentle pressure there entirely snapped his self-control.

He leaned forward to brace himself with one hand against the seat of the bike, and with the other he grabbed a fistful of hair to get a good hold on her head. With that he began to thrust into her mouth, lost in the wet heat, aware of nothing but lips, tongue, teeth, hands, fingers, all mixed together with exquisite pleasure. It drove him forward. He fucked her mouth like that for several minutes, each thrust a bit deeper than the last. Finally, he was ramming his cock into her throat, feeling it reflexively tighten around him, almost coaxing his release.

Jen loved everything about it; he taste, the smell, the feel, his commanding dominance contrasted and balanced with her ultimate power in giving him this kind of pleasure. The power play continued when he pulled away but only to yank her to her feet. His fingers resumed their teasing and probing. Jen squirmed as she felt one finger and then the other slip inside her again. His hand was going for gold as he fingered her, kissed her and rubbed her tits with his other hand.

"Please, Merle…Fuck me… don't make me beg." Her hips jerked spasmodically. All control of her body was gone. He didn't seem to be listening. "All right, you bastard, I'm begging. Fuck me now, you son of a bitch," She almost cried.

He spun her around and bent her over the seat of the bike.

As Jen lay across the seat, she could feel her man's warm hands on her hips and ass, rubbing and teasing her. She felt his hand between her legs from the rear, gently fingering her then parting her legs. All of a sudden a shot of pleasure hit her pussy as she felt the warm tip of a stiff cock circling it. She was desperate and felt the urge to thrust back and take him inside. Merle resisted and continued to tease as revenge for the awesome blowjob she had given. Just when he thought she could take no more Merle thrust forward and pushed his length deep inside her. He started to pump into her, his balls bouncing off her pussy lips as he banged her hard and deep. Jen moaned as he took her, thrusting back meeting his strokes and ensuring she could have every inch of him inside her. After that first thrust, he held still, sheathed to the hilt, feeling her pussy squeeze and relax around his dick as it adjusted to the intrusion. He groaned, loving how incredible that felt, hot and wet, tight, but perfect as if her pussy was made just for his cock. Then she began to move against him involuntarily, needing so badly to find release. He responded in kind, matching her rhythm, thrusting again and again, holding her hips and pulling her onto himself.

As he fucked her from the rear, he almost violently buried his cock deep into her over the side of the bike seat. She could smell the leather and oil and feel the heat of the motorcycle's engine as well as the heat inside her. Merle groaned as his thrusts became harder, deeper and faster. He grunted and slapped her ass.

Her knees began to tremble, her breath came, in short, shallow gasps, and her moans told him that she was just about there. She felt the wave build; it was on the cusp of breaking, exquisitely and torturously prolonged. He knew just how to push her over the edge. He slammed in and held the head of his dick against her most sensitive spot, the one that when he stroked it right, felt like he was fucking her very soul. She went completely still and held her breath drowning in raw euphoria, then let go and cried out as her hips bucked against him in a climax, her pussy throbbing and pulsating around him. There was nothing Merle loved more than making her come and watching it happen. This one, out in the open, under the sun and the trees, soft grass under her feet and his bike supporting her body, was unlike any ever before and left her nearly unconscious. Still, he gave her little time to recover before he started to pump again

She was now hypersensitive and could feel his every contour moving inside. She felt his hands move to her waist and slide under to finger her clit. "Oh God" she groaned, loving this new pleasure. Again her hips responded, rolling and thrusting, fucking him as much as he was fucking her.

Pumping faster, he slapped her ass. "Get yourself off...now..." he ordered taking his own hand away, slick and slippery with her last orgasm. Obediently she slipped her fingers between her swollen lips and began to toy with it, that little bud that was the epicenter of the most exquisite kind of agony. She circled her finger around it, coming perilously close to climax again, but backed off just enough to allow the feeling to ebb before building again.

Several times she nearly came, yet held back, knowing that ultimately it would be that much more intense. He watched her come close to the edge every time, wanting her to let go, feeling his own orgasm start to build. He was determined to make her come and to make it earth-shattering; it was a point of pride with him.

She was fully engrossed and concentrating on his dick inside her and her fingers stroking her pussy, so was not expecting what came next. Quite suddenly she felt his finger slide into her ass. She shot a glance back at him and cried "Fuck you Merle! I…I…godamn dirty fucker...I..."

"You what?"

She couldn't answer as he reduced her whole world to this moment, this ecstasy, a blinding, all-encompassing white heat that rolled through her in wave after wave. Her whole body was trembling and she could barely breathe as her hips writhed against him and she pulsated in uncontrollable spasms. The sight of that, and the feel of her muscles milking his cock pulled him over the edge with her and in a moment she felt his hot release fill her, mingling with her own. If he cried out, she never heard it. She felt his teeth on her shoulder and his fingers digging into her hip as he came with a shocking intensity that didn't abate for what seemed like a full five minutes, all the while pressing deep into her.

Finally their bodies went limp, collapsing into the grass, where they lay with sweat soaked limbs intertwined, waiting for their heart rates to slow. She pulled a blanket from the saddlebag and they wrapped themselves in it, using his jacket as a pillow, he enveloped her in his arms, holding her tightly against him. With his steady warm breath close by her ear soothing her, lulling her to sleep, it felt like home like this was exactly where she belonged.

When she heard him say "Jenny you're home. My home, " she almost thought it was a dream.

"Did you really just say that?"

"Hell yes. What, you think you're hearing things don't ya?"

"Well…"

"Nah, you heard right." He said quietly.

She knew to leave it, not to protest or tease, but to let him have that moment of tenderness he only shared with her. Soon enough, they'd be back at the farm and he'd put up that wall again. Still, she knew when it started to crack she was there to fill in the mortar. He knew it too. Depended on it.

Together they dozed under the trees, hidden from the road by the bike and the afternoon shadows. Eventually, cooling temperatures and hunger roused them. Still loathe to abandon their solitude, they stayed for several long minutes, leisurely kissing, bodies and lips pressed together, conveying more than words ever could.

"So what about Rick, the Walkers in the barn?" She asked.

"What about it?"

"You should fight him on this babe. You're right."

"Are we not talking about this again?"

"Mmm hmm. And Daryl will come around to your thinking. He always does."

"Goddamn little fucker, always pushing me...since he's five years old...I ever tell you bout the time when Daryl was fifteen what he done to..."

"So?" She asked getting him back on track.

"Well Jen, we gotta kill them things or we gotta go."

"I know. Whatever it is I'm there with you. Home right?...it's us."

It didn't matter where they ended up as long as they were together.

"Daryl too."

"Daryl too."