Beth spun around and gasped, wrapping the front panels of the shirt tightly around her torso, hiding her body the best she could. The man before her was older than Daryl by at least ten years and built much stockier. Even if he hadn't called Daryl his baby brother, she'd have known the two men were related by the same steely blue eyes that Daryl had and the same gruffness they carried.

Merle was now sizing her up, even going so far as licking his lips while he did so. "Where you come from, sugar tits? Ain't seen you 'round camp before."

Daryl moved in front of her, putting himself between the two of them. "Leave 'er alone, Merle. She ain't none a yer concern."

"Wha'? I's just askin' where she came from," he defended. "'Sides, she's in my tent, I say that makes 'er my concern."

"No," Daryl said flatly, "it doesn't."

Merle smirked at him, gauging his brother's reactions so far. He peered over Daryl's shoulder to talk to Beth, "What's yer name, girlie?"

"It ain't yer..." Daryl cut himself off when he felt Beth's hand on his shoulder and turned to look at her.

By this time she'd buttoned her shirt, so she felt comfortable enough to walk out from behind Daryl. "I'm Beth."

Merle's face split with a devilish smile, "Now, was that so hard?" He glanced back over to Daryl with a look of mocking pride. "So, ya finally got yerself a piece a tail that weren't one of my hand me downs. The hell'd you come from?" he directed at her, still glancing back and forth between the two of them as if to see what kind of reaction he could get out of Daryl.

"Found 'er in the woods," Daryl growled out through clenched teeth.

Merle released a loud belly laugh. "Well, ain't you a sweet one, savin' a pretty little thing like this from the biters an' bringin 'er back fer ol' Merle."

Daryl straightened his back and squared his shoulders. "She ain't fer you."

The smile left Merle's face without a trace. "Now hold on there, baby brother, you know the rules. Everythin' we got, we share."

"Not her." There was no misunderstanding his tone – this was non-negotiable.

"Now look here, boy. I didn't mean at the same time. Hell, looks like she's got a lot to learn, anyhow. Didn't know you were into young'uns. Tell you what. You let ol' Merle break 'er in, then you can..."

The rest of his plan was lost when Daryl punched him square in the mouth. Merle glared daggers at him as he righted himself and wiped the blood from his split lip with the back of his hand. Beth took a step back behind Daryl, not wanting to get caught in the middle if they started fighting. "The fuck you thinkin', boy?"

"I said, not...her. We got...an arrangement."

Beth felt a rush of heat cross her cheeks when he said that. Even if he hadn't gone into detail, hearing it said out loud had made Beth feel shameful. What was worse was that Daryl was clearly holding up his end of the bargain, protecting her from even his own brother, so she'd have no choice now but to accept his terms.

Merle spat on the ground and mumbled something along the lines of "pussy-whipped bastard" as he threw the flap of the tent open and stormed outside.

Daryl turned and glared at Beth, who could only blink back at him. "Tonight," he said after a moment, his voice low and gravelly, leaving no room for discussion, and nodded toward the sleeping bag. "And you don't leave my side the rest of the day." Beth nodded, breathing shallow to try to keep herself from crying. She followed when Daryl left the tent, through the clearing to the RV parked on the edge of the camping area.

The same bearded man was sitting in his lawn chair. He'd been untying the squirrels Daryl had dropped off with him. "Didn't get a chance to thank ya earlier," he said with an easy smile, "but on behalf of the rest of us, thanks for dinner." He looked over at Beth, "Who do we have here?"

"This's Beth," Daryl mumbled. "Found 'er lost in the woods. She's gonna be stayin' with me."

The older man's eyebrows shot up, high on his forehead, but if he thought anything ill of Daryl's statement, he didn't make it known other than that. "Beth," he said with the same easy smile. "Dale Horvath," he said as he stood and offered a hand for her to shake. Beth gave a tiny smile and shook the man's hand, returning to Daryl's side when they had finished.

"Just came by ta grab a couple a these for dinner," Daryl explained, gesturing to the squirrels laying on the ground.

"Of course," Dale answered. "You did the work, you get first pick." Daryl scoffed and grabbed two from the pile and headed back to his tent.

"What about Merle?" Beth wondered out loud.

Daryl snorted, "He can get his own damn dinner." He turned to face her, "Ya ain't gotta do shit fer him. It ain't his ass gonna be keepin' you alive." He held the squirrels out to her by their tails, "You ever skin one 'a these before?"

Beth shook her head, "No. Never cooked anything over a campfire besides marshmallows, either. Daddy always brought a grill when we went camping."

Daryl rolled his eyes before fixing her with a look of incredulity. Nonetheless, he gave her a crash course in preparing food over the open flame, making sure she knew how to start a fire herself for the next day. "We keep the flame pretty small. Don't wanna attract any attention from walkers or other people." Beth did her best to commit everything he was telling her to memory, asking questions along the way. To his credit, Daryl answered all of them patiently. Once they'd both finished eating, Daryl motioned for them to return to the tent.

Beth's stomach was in knots, her heart pounding nervously. He'd said he was expecting something from her tonight – did he mean sex right away? Would he be okay with her working her way up to that? What was she willing to do instead? She stayed out of his way as he got their side of the tent ready for bed, unrolling the sleeping bag and opening up the zipper and laying it flat so there would be room for both.

"Too damn hot to sleep bundled up in that thing anyway," he muttered. "Not that he'll try anything, but I'd rather have it so Merle'd have to go through me to get to you, so hop in," he gestured at the sleeping bag. Beth tiptoed into the makeshift bed while Daryl grumbled, "Asshole thinks I'm sharin' you with him he's got another thing comin'." She fought a chill that threatened to run down her back at the mere idea of such a thing actually happening and was glad Daryl was of the same mind as she was on the matter. He made an impatient sound and she hurried to the far side of the sleeping bag, up against the tent wall, and sat, not sure what to do next.

Beth started to untie her shoes when he stopped her, "What the hell you think yer doin'?" She blinked up at him, not seeing her apparently obvious mistake. "Only an idiot takes their shoes off when yer sleepin' outside. The hell you gonna do if somethin' comes up an' attacks the camp? Ask 'em to wait fer you ta tie yer shoes?" Beth bit her lip, trying not to cry for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

She looked up at him through watery eyes, trying to work up an apology, her breath hitching in her throat as she watched him unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, but left the rest of his clothes, including his boots, where they were before settling next to her. He only had one pillow, though it was so flat it could hardly be recognized as such anymore, on which he plopped his head on, then looked up at her expectantly. "Let's go, princess," he muttered when she still didn't move. She timidly lowered herself, resting her head next to his on the tiny cushion, laying on her back and staring up at the tent ceiling, the only light coming from the dying fire not far from the entrance to the tent.

She flinched when she felt his finger trace up and down the length of her arm, his knuckles grazing along her side, and tried to focus her breathing so she wouldn't pass out from fear. When she felt brave enough, she turned her head to face him, finding him waiting for her already, his lips seeking hers immediately. The kiss was like the one they shared before – possessive, but not forceful. The man might be rough and tough, lacking in manners and social cues, but his kisses...she'd never felt anything like them. After a moment or two, she found herself unable to stop herself from kissing him back, opening to him when he sought entrance to her mouth. Her body began to betray her reluctance and turned to face him; her hand came up to rest on his chest, feeling his muscles move beneath her fingers as he dropped an arm around her, pulling her closer to him.

She pulled back instantly, her hand attempting to push him away, when he started to roll on top of her. "Wait," she pleaded, but the rest of her thought was lost to a loud gasp as he attached his lips to her throat and he began teasing her sensitive skin with his teeth and tongue. She whimpered as he continued, up and down the side of her neck, gulping in air as he made his way down to the base of her throat and up the other side of her neck. She realized that by doing so, he'd succeeded in placing himself above her, his broad chest covering her torso entirely, but the sensations he was causing with his mouth against her skin were too strong, too good, too electric for her to even think about resisting.

Daryl may have been rough and tough, an obviously skilled hunter and fighter, and maybe even rude and crude in his demeanor, but there was no denying he was definitely talented at what he was doing right now, drawing out sensations she'd never experienced before. This was a man who knew what he was doing, and though she knew she should be fearful of what he was requiring of her, she somehow found herself becoming more and more at ease with him.

He lifted himself off her and laid down on his side so they were facing each other again, his strong arm still wrapped around her. His hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers threading themselves through her tangled hair, pulling ever so slightly as he deepened the kiss. He released her to trail his fingers down her throat, still a little sensitive from his ministrations, over her shoulder, before landing on her breast. She ripped her lips away from his, gasping loudly and trying to wriggle away, but that was the only response she could get out before he covered her mouth with his again. He whispered against her lips, "Relax. You can touch me too, ya know," before sealing another kiss over her mouth.

She felt him gently squeeze her breast again; somewhere in the back of her mind, she was forced to admit that if she hadn't been so scared, making out with basically a stranger, it would have felt good...really good. That same part reminded her that this man had taken her in, fed her, clothed her, and even defended her against his own brother; he couldn't be that bad – there was at least some good in him. If he'd wanted more from her already, she had no doubt he could force her into doing whatever he wanted, but instead he was taking his time with her, which helped, in a very confusing way. She realized he most likely wasn't acting under any kind of romantic notions, but that he was just good at what he does.

Still.

Her mind once again gave control over to her body, allowing it to act on instinct. She placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder and over his bicep, noticing the strength he held there. "Not there," he murmured, taking her wrist and dragging it down his body, stopping when her palm reached the waistband of his boxers.

Beth's eyes snapped open as she took in another gasp of air. Her fingers were resting on his very much aroused member, hot and hard even through the fabric of his underwear. She pulled her hand away, and he didn't make any move to force it back to where he had put it. Instead he started nibbling on her neck again and kneading her breast through his flannel shirt. "Daryl, I..." but no words found their way past her tongue. She remembered their deal, that as long as she could get him off, he'd be satisfied. She swallowed, though her mouth was suddenly dry anyway, and slowly returned her hand to where he'd left it.

Her fingers cupped around the width of him. She didn't have anything to really compare it to – she'd never gone nearly this far with her boyfriend at home – but she guessed he was bigger than average, whatever that meant. She tentatively moved her hand up and down, her fingertips tracing the length of him before reaching the base of his penis. She realized the tip was brushing against her forearm, just past her wrist, indicating that he was...long. She'd never seen a man up close like this, had never seen a dirty movie; the only reference she had was the diagrams in her health and biology books at school. Beth was nervous, scared in fact, and yet intrigued by the feel of him beneath her fingers.

She began to rub up and down his length in short little strokes, gradually increasing in tempo as she became more comfortable with the feel of him in her hand. Daryl started rocking his hips in time with her hand until he ground out, "C'mon, girl, quit teasin'."

She was confused as to what more he wanted. Was he expecting sex because he was so hard already? She started to pull away, but Daryl caught her wrist and brought it back toward his body, sighing impatiently, this time guiding her hand down the front of his boxers, releasing her when her knuckles had reached the elastic waistband.

Beth closed her eyes, not that she could see much in the dim light anyway, and let her fingers wrap around him, her thumb barely able to reach her fingertips. He moaned heavily in her ear, so she figured she must have done something right. Something about the sound gave her a kind of thrill, one she couldn't explain. She knew the mechanics of sex and what he wanted her to do, so she took a breath and forced herself to move her hand along his length, wanting to get this whole thing over with.

As she continued to pump his cock with her hand, he began to move in time with her, rocking his hips to match her rhythm. His moans were interrupted by him whispering tiny praises to her – "Yeah, that's it," and "Mmm, that's good." Occasionally he would tell her to squeeze a little tighter or move a little faster, and she followed his instructions as best as she could. At some point, he had returned his hand to her chest, playing with her breasts in turn, though she figured it was purely for his benefit.

He was breathing heavily in her ear while she was concentrating on keeping her hand moving and her eyes dry. Finally he started to whisper harshly, "'M gonna come, girl. Gonna come all over yer little hand." She felt his hot release stream out of him and onto her wrist and forearm as he let out a strangled sigh against her neck. She grimaced at the feel of it, but made sure her only other reaction was to carefully release him and pull her hand out of his shorts, not quite sure what to do with the mess on her arm.

Before she could move too far, he put his hand on her hip, "Don't move." He rolled onto his back and felt around with his hand for a few seconds before returning to her with some kind of cloth. He reached for her hand and cleaned off the white stickiness from her skin before tossing the cloth back to the opposite side of the tent.

"Was...did you use one of Merle's shirts to...?"

"Asshole needs to learn to put his shit away," he murmured. Beth thought she might have heard a lightness to his voice, as if he were smiling or even holding back a laugh. She thought it was an awful thing to do – she would never do something like that to her own brother – but didn't want to risk making him mad by admonishing him, so she decided staying quiet would be best. When he'd finished and tossed the cloth into a corner of the tent, Daryl rolled to his side with his back facing her, and within minutes was softly snoring, without a word of thanks or even a brief 'good night.'

Beth was left with nothing to do but face the tent wall and lose herself in her thoughts, silent tears streaming down to the pillow beneath her. She wasn't sure exactly why she was crying; she was scared, that was for sure, and wanted nothing more than to just go home, hoping against all odds that her family was still alive and safe, but there was something more, just under the surface. Her first sexual act had been with a stranger, which made her feel dirty and cheap. Even if they hadn't actually had sex, she felt some kind of loss of innocence. She knew she wasn't left with many other options, that this was how she was going to survive, at least for the time being, but she felt she had betrayed some unspoken oath, and would only have to continue to chip away at it if she wanted to go on living.

She realized what she really wanted was some kind of comfort, even from Daryl, even if it was just to return his arms around her and hold her until she slept. Instead she just felt...used.

'No, Bethy,' she thought to herself. 'This is part of the deal. This is what has to happen right now. Until you can find a way out of this little arrangement, this is your life now. Keep him happy with your hand, let him keep touching and kissing you, and just survive until you can somehow make your way back home...or find another way to get by without him. This isn't love, it's not even lust. It's just...what has to be.'

She ignored the memory of feeling his lips on hers and on her neck, his hand gently kneading her breast. She ignored the strange pull, low in her belly, as she remembered his low growls in her ear – the ones that just moments ago had sent a thrill down her spine. She ignored the memory of how he felt in her hand, how his skin felt against her palm as it slid up and down his length. She ignored the confusion as she realized she already missed his arms being around her. She fought it all into a dark corner of her mind and focused on finding sleep.

Thanks for reading - please take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you think!