Hungry

by Zylphia Carron

The four survivors have finally retrieved the gas Virgil needs for his boat. Just before they can reach the river, Rochelle finds herself in serious danger, and the group is overwhelmed with infected enemies at all angles. Nick manages to save her, but their time alone leads to confessions of pent-up feelings and hungry desires... Full bio on AO3 Cover made by DoubtingRabbit on AO3

2. Chapter 2

Author's Note

This author's note doesn't come from AO3. Just typing and wishing you well and hope you enjoy reading it. If you wish to see the original author's note when this chapter was first posted, please visit the story on AO3. Thanks! Happy reading!

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Heat.
That's all Rochelle could feel in this cold storm, sitting alone in one of the bunk rooms on Virgil's boat.
While resting on one of the beds, she twiddled her warm fingers, reflecting back to what she had done in private with Nick. Not much time had passed since… that happened. A confession was one thing, but to act on it was another. And boy, did they act on it. Friction built up within Rochelle's mind as her heart gave a loud twang. Endless thoughts collided with each other, struggling to comprehend every little thing that had happened over the last few hours. She tried to focus back on her hands, but the swaying of Virgil's boat in the storm did little to help. She blinked in frustration.
The only thoughts infecting her mind were of Nick.
His hands, his touch, his voice…
It drove her insane.
She brushed a finger against her lower lip, one of many places he had already touched. A burning sensation resurfaced from the pits of her stomach. It coursed through her body, traveling from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. She sighed angrily.
Keep it together… keep it together…
Pensive thoughts consumed every part of her body. She had so many questions… for him and for her. How long had they both wanted to do that to each other? Why did they wait so long? Was anything to come of this? Could anything come from this?
She sat up and roughly shook her head.
No. No way could anything romantic come out of this. It would be too dangerous; would change too much of the group dynamic; would stress her out. She scoffed. He was a con artist for a reason, a player for a reason. This had to have been the longest Nick had gone without getting his dick wet up in some girl, so he probably wanted to try it with her.
…but if that were the case, why wouldn't he have done it sooner?
She shook the cold sensation free from her head. That couldn't have been it. That didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. Nick wanting to have sex with the reporter? Rochelle of all people? He couldn't have been serious… could he? Her thoughts quickly raced back to his words, spoken in that low, alluring voice.
I like you, sweetheart…
I would do anything for you. And to you…
Can I kiss you?
She reflected back on their kiss, remembering how tight and warm his embrace was, the feeling of his lips, the pressure of his tongue against hers. A sudden flash of hunger shot through her. It matched a craving ache that crept across the lower half of her body. She squeezed her legs together tightly, trying to stop whatever was building inside of her… but she couldn't shake the sense away.
She really wanted to kiss Nick again.
She touched her heated cheeks, ashamed of how her own thoughts and feelings betrayed her. There was no way the two of them would ever get a second chance at being that close again, that intimate again. Embarrassment rose even further when she thought back to how she herself suggested Virgil's boat as a place to continue their… whatever it was called. This time, she let out a laugh.
Like hell we would!
Not in this apocalypse. Not while the entire nation was falling apart. When would they even have the time? Not to mention the issue of bunking partners. It just wouldn't work.
"Nice to see someone's having a good time!" came the familiar friendly voice at the door to the room.
She froze in place as her heart thumped again. She darted her eyes upward to see her white suited friend, arms folded while making direct eye contact with her.
"Nick…" she barely breathed, "h-how is—?"
"Still sleeping." He interjected, "I came by to see my next patient."
He smiled as he pointed a finger at her, arms still folded. She gave a small smile and held her side. She could still feel the fiery fingerprints all over her stomach, no doubt left over from his hands.
"I'm doing fine," she said coolly, "'Dr. Nick' patched me up great!"
"Heh. Well, that's good to know. Let's hope I was able to do the same for Ellis."
Nick's eyes shifted to the floor. Rochelle could easily sense great concern in his tone. She stared at him worriedly.
"Was it bad?" She asked.
Nick nodded solemnly in response before continuing. "He's lucky the Tank smacked him right onto the boat and not in the river. One more hit like that and… I don't want to think of Ellis not being here right now..."
Yes, it was nothing short of a miracle that the four of them made it back to Virgil's boat, alive and in one piece. The earlier onslaught of Infected at the Burger Tank nearly did them all in. While they had plenty of guns and ammo, medical supplies ran scarce. They managed to take out two Tanks on their own, but by the time the boat finally came, Ellis received the worst of their attacks and nearly got himself killed when they escaped. Without Nick's expertise, the other three would have surely been overwhelmed. She smiled internally, thankful that Nick was both so knowledgeable on medicine and so caring of Ellis (despite his outward disdain for the redneck).
"What about Coach?"
"He's watching him now." Nick replied, "Wanted to give me a break after tending to him for so long."
"I see. Well, once Coach finishes up, I'll get out of your hair and head back to—"
"No need. Coach said he'd stay with Ellis."
Nick closed the door behind him and made his way to the bed sitting across from her. He found a nearby coat hanger. She squinted her eyes, puzzled.
"You mean…?" she started.
"Yep." He answered quickly… a little too quickly. "He's sleeping over there for tonight. So, you and I are gonna stay here. Probably for a few nights until Ellis is well again."
Rochelle said nothing as he slowly took off his white coat, placing it on the hanger. She stared at him from behind in disbelief, her heart rate picking up speed again. The storm outside paled in comparison to the raging hurricane inside her mind.
Her eyes drifted to the back of his head, thinking about all the places she'd touched, the hairs she pulled, the sounds he made. He turned back around, disrupting her thoughts as he gave her an inquisitive look.
"Unless," he began, "you would prefer to go back with Ellis?"
She stared back with creased eyebrows, feeling challenged.
"No," she answered, "I'd rather not bother Coach if he's already over there."
Nick smiled. "Couldn't agree more."
Rochelle hated how his voice and smile took all her attention. She could barely hear herself breathe or even think over her loud, drumming chest. After hanging up his coat, he sat down on his bed, letting out a long, winded sigh. She watched him quietly. The room felt so much smaller with him inside. Their beds already weren't that far apart, but when they both sat to face each other, their knees were mere inches away. Then again, a small towboat sailing down the long, winding Mississippi River could only provide so much space for so many people on board. Her brown eyes easily scanned over his familiar blue shirt, still untucked because of her. The rain had dampened his clothes even more, allowing her to see just the faintest shapes of his chest. She turned away, not wanting her thoughts to double cross her again. Nick noticed her eyeing him down but decided not to bring it up.
"Feels nice to be on actual beds again." He spoke, "Even if it isn't the softest."
"Yeah," she said, "Feels like it was only yesterday when we all had beds of our own to lie down in."
Or a few hours ago.
"Heh. I know the feeling."
Suddenly, the stormy wind outside picked up loudly, as if it had found the will to scream. The two of them could feel its chill slip underneath the door. Instinctively, Rochelle picked up the blanket from her newly acquired bed and wrapped herself in it, slightly shaking. Nick stared at her briefly as the thought of being wrapped up in a blanket with her clouded his mind. He remembered the slow burning embers she left across his chest with just her fingertips, the way she gripped his arms when he held her closely, the heat of her mouth against his own…
"Nick?" She asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Yeah?" He blinked.
"How long did Virgil say this storm was going to last?"
He shrugged. "Not sure. I'll ask him after a shower."
He stretched his arms out, showing her patches of green stains in various places on his blue shirt.
"Wouldn't want to sleep in all this nasty bile shit." He huffed.
Rochelle chuckled. "Me neither."
Right. The Boomer that got them into this mess in the first place…
She blinked in realization at having kissed Nick while completely covered in zombie guts. She shuddered.
"I'll… shower after you then." She stated.
"Alright."
Nick stood up from his bed and casually strolled over to the door again. He turned to face Rochelle.
"I'll try to save you some water then, sweetie."
With that, he gave her a wink before disappearing from her vision. Rochelle's eyes then darted back and forth across the room for a minute or two, switching from the ground to Nick's coat, to his bed, to the door.
God.
The rhythmic pounding of her heart refused to stop. She gripped part of her chest, desperately trying to steady herself but was failing miserably. Was this actually happening? Was there now indeed a chance to go further? Her scenario wasn't supposed to happen. And yet… was this it? On Virgil's boat?
She blinked rapidly.
"Just what in the hell is…?" She muttered to herself.
After one deep breath, then two, she still struggled to calm herself down. Her wild thoughts bounced off the walls of both her heart and her inner thighs. She couldn't tell if she was overjoyed or mortified by the news. Perhaps both. More of his words echoed inside of her head.
You don't feel the sexual tension between us?
Of course, I do.
When did you fall for me, sweetheart?
That's… I…
What's stopping this from becoming a thing, Ro?
I… I don't know!
A zombie-filled apocalypse didn't seem to matter as much to her anymore. Suddenly, an intense heat crawled upwards from the top of her chest to her entire face.
She really wanted to kiss Nick again.
Breathing heavily, she peered over towards the door. Nick had left it partially ajar. Quickly and quietly, Rochelle stood up to close it. As she walked, she felt something uncomfortable gliding ever so slightly beneath her thighs. She scrunched her face. Reaching the door, she peered outside to see if anyone was around. Thankfully, she saw no one. Slowly, she closed the door with her left hand. The feeling between her legs grew more and more uncomfortable. She sighed very angrily before placing her right hand against the top of her jeans, hesitating to go any further.
"I have to know…" she whispered her excuse.
Slowly, she slipped her fingers down the small band of her jeans and beneath her panties. She slithered past her sweet spot, down to her opening. It took no time at all for her to find the source of her discomfort. Her fingers glided over her plump lower lips with such ease, getting more and more covered in her thick fluids. She then quickly pulled her hand from her pants. Her eyes narrowed as she saw just how slimy her self-lubrication was. When she parted her fingers, trails of translucent discharge kept each appendage "connected" in a slippery manner. She exhaled nervously.
"Girl, you are in some deep shit!" She murmured anxiously.
Rochelle looked over to Nick's jacket again with an irritated scowl on her face. It sat there quietly, hung up by its lonesome on the wall. Her traitorous emotions swelled up inside of her yet again as she thought back to when he tossed it to the floor, just before throwing himself at her.
She thought of his hands roaming her body…
…the growls that shook her…
…the moans she let out…
She loved the way his lips felt against hers… the heat of it all. Her need to explore his mouth again—and other places—steadily fueled her hunger. Amidst the cravings, in the pit of her stomach sat the pathetic feeling of regret.
Maybe I should have kept going…
Mindlessly, she rubbed the same fingers across her lips, accidentally smearing some of her fluids across them. She blinked, surprised at herself, before licking her lips and tasting the remnants of her center.
Still sweet.
There was a brief pause before Rochelle crushed her eyebrows together in annoyance, looking back and forth between her dripping hand and Nick's wet jacket. She bit her lip as she slipped her hand back into her jeans, moving her panties out of the way to dive straight for her sweet spot. She leaned her head back against the door, allowing her thoughts to drift for a moment as she was hit with wave after wave of pleasure. She couldn't believe how turned on this made her… how he made her. Rochelle's fingers moved around slowly, their slickness adding more pleasure atop her sensitive area. A voiceless moan crept its way out of her throat before she stopped abruptly, pulling her fingers out of her pants. She rapidly shook her head before taking a seat back on her bed, wiping away her slimy sin on the sheets.
"No," she muttered to herself, "I am not doing this again! Nick, he just… h-he's not interested in… We were just fooling around! He doesn't really want to, could he? …with me? D… do I even want this with Nick? I mean… I-I think I…"
She clutched her face with her hands.
"Ughh! This is so frustrating! Why did I even suggest this?! Okay, calm down… calm down. I gotta think this through. Gotta take deep breaths…"
As her mind struggled to wrestle through her feelings, Rochelle could not determine what direction the night would take the two of them. She was caving in hard and fast, chilled to the bone at the thought of how far she'd be willing to go—alone in a room with Nick all to herself. She threw a blanket over her body, continuing the battle raging in her own mind.
Deep shit indeed…

The twenty minutes that followed felt like an eternity to Rochelle before Nick finally came back. Slowly, he opened the door and peered inside the dimly lit room. Rochelle lay hunched over on her bed, tightly wrapped in her blanket. He knocked against the side of the wall. Quickly, she sprung up and looked towards his direction with squinted eyes. A cheeky smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Miss me?" He joked.
She rolled her eyes as she sat up properly. She then removed the blanket from her body, a rush of cold and discomfort hitting her bare skin.
"Shut the door, would you?" She asked.
He did as requested, closing it gently behind him. Through the dim light, Rochelle caught a glimpse of what he wore. She raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile at the ungodly amount of plaid. Deep green with red lines everywhere… and as a button-up T-shirt no less! Thank goodness for a normal pair of pants or this would have been a sight for sore eyes. Nick blinked as Rochelle poorly hid her grin through loud snickers.
"What are you laughing at?" he asked smugly.
"Nothing, nothing," she lied, waving her hand away.
"It's the shirt, isn't it?"
"No… it's fine!"
"It's the shirt. I know it is."
Her smile widened. "…yeah, it's the shirt."
"I mean, Virgil does love his plaid." Nick tugged around his collar with a disapproving glare.
"You look like a conman turned stay-at-home dad!"
"God, I'd rather put the suit back on."
"With all of that Boomer stank on it?"
"Touché."
Rochelle felt herself relaxing more around Nick again.
"Maybe you oughta give ol' Virgil some fashion tips." She teased with a lighthearted smirk.
She then pointed to his hanging coat.
"He could add dirty old white suits to the list!"
Nick shook his head and rolled his eyes half-seriously. "Very funny, Rochelle."
He then walked over to his side of the room, turning on the small desk light atop a shelf that stretched between both of their beds. The two of them looked at each other briefly, not saying a word. Both of their eyes seemed to wander, catching glimpses without the other one noticing.
Rochelle felt her composure slipping as she took a second look at Nick. The shirt obviously didn't fit properly. She figured it could have been about a size or two smaller than what he needed. But the problem with small shirts is that they don't work well on men with broad chests and large muscles… or for women infatuated with said men. Her eyes caressed over the shape of his arms, wanting to touch them again. His chest, while not as defined, appeared shapelier and more taut compared to his usual draping suit and shirt. For all of that ugly plaid, he somehow made it look good. She wondered if he did it on purpose.
God, I can't stand him…
Rochelle stretched her neck muscles, clearing her throat and closing her eyes to stop the same dirty thoughts from rearing their ugly heads again. Nick's eyes traced the silhouette of her face, slipping down from her ear and bruised cheek to the slender frame of her neck. He kept eyeing her until he reached the crevice of her shoulder, staring hard at the reddish-purple mark he gave her back in the abandoned house. He pressed his lips together slightly to keep him from saying something inappropriate right in front of her. That's what his own mind was for; to think about possessing her like that again later… and in other places as well.
The two kept looking each other over, taking in with their eyes what their hands could not. It didn't take long before they once again stared back at each other accidentally. Rochelle grew flustered and looked away while Nick scratched the back of his head, looking down towards the floor. An awkward silence crept its way into the room, disturbed only by their stumbling words as they talked over each other.
"Shower's free if you—"
"So how was—?"
"What'd you say?" They both asked at the same time.
They shied away, awkwardly giving small chuckles here and there.
"You first," Nick said.
"A-alright," Rochelle started nervously, "I wanted to ask what Virgil said to you. About the storm?"
"Right, the storm. He, um… he said it's gonna be a while before it calms down. Maybe a few more days."
"A few more days?" Rochelle repeated in shock.
Nick nodded. "We can't travel too far or too fast in this weather. Could spell trouble."
Rochelle heaved a sigh, folding her arms as well.
Too late for that. Trouble's already here.
"Sounds like we're in this for the long haul, huh?" she asked.
"Seems like it," he replied.
Nick watched Rochelle stare out towards the small window just above the door of their little room. She peered at the hard downpour of rain outside, the dark grey skies adding an extra layer of gloom to a rather rough and complicated day.
"The shower's free if you need it." Nick repeated.
He paused, awaiting a response, but nothing came. She still stared out the window, seemingly lost in thought. He searched her pretty brown eyes for answers, but to no avail.
"Hey!" He spoke up.
Rochelle blinked herself out of her daze and turned to his attention. His own blue eyes looked playful and inviting… and so too did his lips...
"Did you hear me?" He asked.
"Yeah, I just uhh…" her words failed her as she continued looking at his eyes.
"Y'alright?" he asked concerned, "Lot on your mind?
"Heh. You could say that."
Nick grew curious. "You want to talk about it?"
Definitely not.
She stumbled, "N… No. It's um…"
"Yes?"
Quickly, she broke eye contact, looking back at the window with a nervous smile.
"I-It's nothing," she stammered, "You… you don't have to worry about it."
"Rochelle…"
"I'll shower in a bit. Trying to stay out of the rain as much as possible right now."
Nick tried to say something but couldn't find the right words. He gave up with a small shake of his head.
The stillness in the room grew uneasy within minutes, a very different kind of feeling compared to the last time they were this close and private. Nick sensed tension. He felt it whenever Rochelle stared at him. He knew she wanted to say something to him, and he was waiting for those beautiful lips of hers to part so he could hear that sweet voice. Sadly, he was denied that satisfaction.
Rochelle did her best to keep her eyes away from Nick, deadlocked on the window above the door. She sighed quietly, knowing full well that if she looked at him for too long, she'd only torture herself wanting to feel some part of him again. Not that it was hard to imagine, given how tight the unflattering shirt was.
Suddenly, Nick coughed.
"Did you say something?" she asked, darting her head in his direction.
"Just a cough, Ro," he half-chuckled.
"Oh. I see."
"Did you want me to say something?" He half-smiled.
Way to go, stupid!
Rochelle's eyes flickered around, panicking to think of an answer.
"Actually…" she trailed.
The panic raced in her heart as Nick gave her that mischievous look again. Narrowed eyes and an even bigger smile spread across his face as if hungry for an embarrassing response. She wanted to knock his confidence down a peg or two!
"Actually, yeah," she challenged, eyes pinned to his face in a glare, "There has been something I've been meaning to ask you."
Nick raised his eyebrow suggestively.
"And what's that?" he smiled.
"About Coach."
All happy emotion left his face. Rochelle smirked.
"Why Coach?" a sharp tinge of disappointment cutting through his words.
"Because I'm just a little curious as to why Coach wanted to stay with Ellis for the night and not you. Doesn't 'Doctor Nick' like to keep a close eye on his patients?"
He folded his arms and gave a small snort. Rochelle gave one of her own playful expressions right back at him. Nick really liked the fire in her eyes when her sassy side came out. Kept things interesting.
"I do," he started, "but Coach saw how exhausted I was and wanted to give me a break. I've taught him some things here and there before we left Savannah, so Ellis is in good hands."
Her face relaxed a bit, satisfied with the answer. She was still both annoyed and aroused by the sparkle in his blue eyes as he looked at her.
"Besides," he started again, "while Coach keeps tabs on Ellis, I can keep tabs on my feistier 'patient'."
"Well, sorry to disappoint you," she retorted, "but I'm not gonna be my usual feisty self tonight."
Nick wished she hadn't said that, heat rising and reddening his face. She planted a forbidden seed in his nasty mind that he knew better than to vocalize.
"By the way…" Rochelle started.
Nick turned to listen intently, the heat still burning in his cheeks.
"…I also wanted to ask you… about New Orleans."
"Yes?"
"What are your plans for when we get there? After we split up?"
The corner of his mouth twitched at the question.
He stammered, "I, uh, haven't really given it that much thought."
"Really? You? Mr. Lone Wolf? Mr. Don't-Bother-Learning-My-Name-'Cause-I-Ain't-Stickin'-Around-Long?"
Nick rolled his eyes. "Alright, I get it. But people can change their minds, you know!"
"You were the last person I ever thought would change his mind on something like that. I thought you'd be the first to pack up his things and go!"
Damn. She does have a point.
"I'm just… not so sure I like the idea of us splitting up," he said, "Not so soon at least."
"You do know that all of this is going to come to an end at some point, right? I mean, we all have our own lives to get back to."
This time, his brows twitched.
What on earth was going on inside her mind to say something like that? And after everything that's happened between them, too. Not just back in Ducatel, but… all of it.
"Okay, lemme ask you, Ro," his tone was sharp, "what do you plan on doing once we get to New Orleans?"
"I… uh…"
Nick saw the pensive look of confusion on her face, giving him the answer before her own words did.
"I don't know. Didn't even think we'd make it this far, really."
"Then why are you so hellbent on leaving m… us so badly?"
"I never said that." Her tone grew just as indignant.
"But you implied it."
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"Did n—! Jesus, what are we, five?"
Nick chuckled and smiled at her cute, angry face. She stared at him with such a familiar intensity that it reminded him of how she looked just before grabbing hold of his face for their second kiss. Very arousing.
"Look," Rochelle started again, "I am not keen on us separating either. All I'm saying is that… I-I highly doubt we'll want us around each other once everything goes back to normal."
"I want you…"
Rochelle's clenched muscles softened as her heart took a big leap. She felt the heat from Nick's gaze so strongly that she could have melted like chocolate. Her rigid demeanor lessened, but Nick could still feel her tension. The look in her eyes still showed a wall that would be difficult to climb. He tried hard to read her expressions, but he got stuck somewhere between her being either frightened or upset with him. Or worse, both. He broke eye contact with her.
"…here." He said with incredible awkwardness, "I want you here. Around. With the four of us. Together. As a group."
"Oh." Rochelle blinked, "I, uhh, I see. Well, I am… glad that you—all of you—want me around. As part of the group. Because I, uh, like… being around you, too. The group, I mean. Everyone. I like being around everyone, too."
"Great."
"Yup."
"Cool."
"Okay."
They both turned away from each other, eyes wide and deadlocked on their beds as they screamed internally from that embarrassing conversation. Rochelle smiled faintly, both relieved and disappointed by what Nick said. She looked back out the window, watching the endless rainfall. She shook her head, still in disbelief that this would go on for another three days at least. She pulled the blanket up to her neck for warmth, but accidentally brushed her hand against the sore spot on her neck. Slowly, she pulled the blanket down and pushed her fingertips into the darkened skin. It felt even more sore than before.
Nick glanced back towards Rochelle and caught a glimpse of her absentmindedly brushing her hand over the hickey on her neck. He kept his eyes on her, smiling inwardly as she seemed to be lost in her thoughts again. He could easily guess what those thoughts might entail. She traced her fingers in a circle overtop the bruise. He watched her silently, admiring his handiwork and Rochelle's fixation on it. Nick found himself a tad lost in his own thoughts too, wishing her fingers were his own… gliding all over her smooth skin, searching for the next place his lips would mark. He was sure it would be somewhere lower—far, far lower—on her body next time.
Their eyes met at the worst possible moment. Both caught each other with their guard down, Rochelle enamored by the spot on her skin, and Nick lusting over her entirely. They froze, not a single word passing through either of their lips. She kept looking at his blue-gray eyes. Their cold color contrasted with the warmth she knew his body could give her. Nick stared back into her dark brown ones. He dreaded the silence between them. He wanted to get closer to her, needed to tell her…
Suddenly, the blackened sky shone with bright flashing white lights. A loud strike of thunder pierced the sky, causing Rochelle to gasp from the harsh sound. They broke eye contact yet again as she swallowed hard.
"I-I should shower now." She stammered.
She busied herself with removing one of her earrings, fidgeting with the clasp for a moment or two.
"Ro… I—"
She quickly looked back at him. He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head and giving a deep sigh.
"Never mind," he said, "I need a cigarette. Virgil probably has some."
He stood up and briskly headed out the door, not bothering to close it behind him this time. A rush of cold air shot through the room. Rochelle shivered as she worked on her second earring, though her heart still nearly beat out of her chest. She didn't know what to think honestly. The stress and tension were just too much. Perhaps getting clean would alleviate some of that for her. There was only one way to find out.
After removing both earrings, she placed them down on the small desk between their beds, grabbed some towels, and headed out.

Cold.
That's what Rochelle wanted to feel from the water in Virgil's shower. It always ran cold, sending chills down her back. But she felt nothing this time. Not a single part of her body lessened in heat. She felt as if the steam would fly off her skin any second. Not even the streams of icy water running down her hair or face cooled her off. At best, she felt… lukewarm.
"What is happening to me?" Rochelle pondered through gritted teeth.
C'mon, Ro, you know what it is! You've known for a while now. Longer than you'd like to admit.
Rochelle wanted to bash her head against the wall. Instead, she continued to let the water fall, praying that something would change. She looked at the bar of soap resting on its tiny holder.
"Just gotta get clean…"
She lathered in the cold waters, pressing the soap against her warm skin. She rubbed from her neck to her breasts to her stomach, washing away any hint of Boomer or Witch or zombie filth that might have latched itself onto her body. She moved slowly against the healing wound on the side of her stomach, not wanting to get it too soapy. It didn't hurt to touch this time. Nick had definitely done a good job of patching her up. She lightly traced her fingers over where he had touched and wrapped the bandages. She thought back to when he held her so close to his face when he finished…
She let out a noise that sounded something between a laugh and a groan.
"Of all the guys on this planet," she said with a look of complete frustration, "It had to be the damn con artist, huh?"
She snorted and smirked.
"Come on, girl, focus. One thing at a time."
Next, she washed her lower body. She couldn't wait to get rid of the sinful remnants her mind had caused. She bent down with the bar of soap to reach her legs and ankles, not stopping until she covered every nook and cranny on her lower form. When she rinsed off the white suds, she closed her eyes and let the water drip down her frame. She spread her legs for the water to reach her most private areas. Her hand slipped in between to push her lower lips farther apart in order for the water to reach it.
Absentmindedly, she motioned her hand back and forth over her privates… just as Nick did when he laid on top of her. Rochelle could have sworn she felt her temperature rise beneath her fingertips. She closed her eyes and continued rubbing back and forth, spreading her outer lips more and more to expose her clit. She could feel the familiar slime between her legs, just as thick and as heavy as before. She rolled a few of her fingers in the slime until they were coated. At the same time, his words flooded back into her head, tangled in their most intimate moments…
When's the last time someone made you feel good?
"Shit."
Rochelle placed a finger on each side of her pretty pink pearl, stroking and massaging it gently. Her breathing hitched as she gradually picked up speed, thinking back to all the places on her body that he touched. Her nose, her lips, her back, her sides, her ass. She wanted his entire weight on top of her again, possessing every part of her and never letting go. She breathed heavily as she stroked faster, stretching out her legs wider and bringing her other hand to fill up her center.
Nick was right… she was wetter than his suit.
"Nick…"
She fantasized about what his large hands could do compared to her smaller ones. She wondered how low his voice could growl, how fast he could make her cum, how long he could last in bed, if he liked to tease women or make them beg first. Maybe… could he do both? She wanted to run her fingers through his hair one more time and yank at each and every follicle until he couldn't take it anymore, gripping her face and pressing his lips hard against hers. A moan or two slipped from her throat, the feeling of the shower's cold water disappearing from her mind completely as if it were never even there. She arched her head backwards, leaning against the wall and pumping inside of herself faster and faster.
"Nick!"
The fingers working on her clit swirled around it, imitating the way his tongue swirled around her own when he took control of her mouth. Her breathing grew heavier, intoxicated by every thought of Nick, wanting to be with him, feel him, hold him, taste him, drink him.
Another moan escaped from within… a bit too loudly. Her eyes flashed open as she panted nervously, quickly taking her hands away from herself and slamming them against the shower walls.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" she asked herself angrily.
She cut off the water, still breathing heavily as she opened the small door of the shower that led to the even tinier bathroom. Her hands snatched the towels from the toilet lid, quickly drying her body off. She wrapped herself in her large towel while pushing all of her locs inside a smaller one, twirling it altogether in one bundle atop her head. She stared long and hard at herself in the mirror, unsure if she felt ashamed or not for what she did. With eyes still glued to the mirror, she stretched her hand back down to the toilet lid, searching for something but coming up empty.
"Huh…?"
She reached down again, still grabbing nothing but air. Finally looking at the lid, she let out a short breath and placed the same hand on her hips.
"Shit!" She spat, "I forgot my clothes."

The rain had thankfully weakened to a small drizzle by the time Rochelle headed back to the room. She lightly knocked on the door, gripping the uppermost part of her towel tightly to her chest. She was surprised when she didn't get an answer in return. Slowly, she pressed her weight against the door until it opened. Peering inside, her eyes caught the small desk lamp still on, but no Nick in sight.
Rochelle sighed with relief and hurried inside, shutting the door quickly behind her. Going to her side of the room, she threw her old attire to the edge of the bed. Her nose curled up at the sight of them, all tussled into a messy ball, wet and stained with Boomer bile. A quick wash from the river would most likely get them out, but she absolutely refused to wear them again for the night. Her head turned towards the direction of her pillow as she slowly unwrapped the towel around her head, her soaked locs smacking her in the face. Her eyebrows arched in surprise at the sight of clean clothes already sprawled out neatly atop the blanket.
"Did Nick do this?" she pondered aloud.
She inspected each one, brushing her fingertips over the fabric. He even got her underwear—albeit men's briefs, but still, better than nothing.
"Thank God there's no plaid," she sighed with a smile.
Suddenly, Virgil's boat roughly swayed, tilting against the wind and waves of the river. Rochelle held onto her bed until it steadied, but just as the boat calmed, she heard a loud, wet plop from behind. Turning around, she lowered her eyes to the ground where Nick's coat slumped. While still gripping her towel around her body, she walked over to the soggy coat and hung it back on the wall. She paused and stared at the faded white color, truly surprised by how much the green puke had washed off at this point. She took one hand and gripped the edge of his suit's opening, tracing a thumb over one of the buttons. She reflected on just how infuriating it was to take this off of him. Their third kiss really was distracting.
Still, it was a little satisfying to see Nick toss it to the floor like that. Knowing him, he would rather knock someone's lights out than part with his once fancy suit. At least she knew she meant more to him than his strange taste in fashion. Rochelle smiled at the thought, but it didn't take long for that same inappropriate question to clog her head.
When indeed was the last time someone made her feel good?
Her hand gripped his coat tighter. Had it really been that long? Longer than this apocalypse, that was for damn sure. Rochelle may have missed out on a lot in her twenties, but she never considered a good romance to be one of them. It wasn't like she didn't know how a man's touch could feel. Quite the opposite. She knew all too well how good the words, hugs, kisses, and grinding of flesh between two lovers could be.
Nick's touch, though, was different… warmer. More inviting. And the constant thought of going further and further with him wouldn't leave her head! Rochelle lost track of how long they had been traveling together, but in the time she had gotten to know him, Nick had definitely grown more affectionate towards her than she'd realized. It was obvious he cared for the others, too, but she knew who the favorite was. And maybe… maybe she had a favorite, too.
He always had his eyes on her, always helped her, checked in on her, joked with her. He got on her every nerve yet knew how to put a smile right back on her face. He kept her grounded in their new reality, which sometimes was the only thing keeping her from going bat-shit insane. From the looks of things, they held each other up pretty well. Hell, even holding hands felt right, whether it was from escaping a zombie horde or having a "private" moment together. Come to think of it, Nick was far more intimate and romantic than she had given him credit for. Perhaps he was even… sexy?
Rochelle nearly choked admitting it. She hated knowing the fact that he was, without a doubt, better than every single "loser" boyfriend she had ever dated. A hoarse laugh escaped her throat as she played with the idea that maybe she was missing out on something here. Maybe, all it took for the right guy to come along was a dangerous infection killing off millions of people. Couldn't have been easier, right?
She fiddled with his coat some more, sighing as she saw a tiny green stain along one of the buttons.
…but would a conman ever want to be tied down?
It was obvious Nick hadn't enjoyed being married. Not a single mention of his wife was ever in good spirits. Rochelle had never heard a man talk so badly about a woman like that before. She would have never wanted to be talked about like that—unless she really deserved it. Rochelle couldn't even see herself married for that matter. But if she was married, she would at least want her husband to actually like her. That was the whole point of marriage, right? She would want someone to treat her right, pick her up when she's down, be honest with her when she was messing up.
…oh God. Someone like Nick.
The thought made her chuckle; a reporter and a gambler falling in love, getting hitched in the middle of a zombie apocalypse against all odds. Sounded like quite the headline on paper, but she had trouble picturing the reality. Since day one, Nick had always made it quite clear that once they survived this—if they survived this—he was long gone, headed out on his own to do whatever the hell he wanted to do.
That was still his plan… wasn't it?
Rochelle pondered over their last conversation. She took her hand off his suit and crossed her arms as she stared at it, lost in thought. Would he stay if she asked him to? She could honestly talk to him about anything, but… would he change his plans for her?
"…he did say he wants me…" she muttered to herself quietly.
"See something you like, Rochelle?" Nick's voice shot into the room.
She turned around scared out of her wits. There he stood by the door, leaning against its frame with an ever-curious look plastered on his face. Rochelle's eyes scurried around as she damn-near panicked.
"Jesus, you snuck up on me!" she scrambled, "I… I didn't know you were… See, your coat fell and I… I picked it up, but it was… You know, I am, uh, so surprised at how well all that Boomer gunk got out of the coat. Guess there's a good use for this storm after all. Heheh…"
Nick simply shook his head with a smile.
"Rochelle, Rochelle," he teased, "What am I gonna do with you?"
Her thoughts immediately searched for all possibilities of what exactly he should do to her. She breathed heavily through her nose, brows squinted in frustration as she forced the images out.
"Quiet, old man, before I knock you upside yo' head!" she shouted.
Nick let out a chuckle as he raised his arms defensively.
"Just messin' with you," he said, "But if you don't mind—."
His fingers gestured to his bed. Rochelle moved back from his coat and gestured her arms in the same direction.
"Be my guest," she said plainly.
Slowly, Nick raised an eyebrow at her, the familiar mischievous smile creeping back on his face.
"Do you want to lie down or not, Nick?" she groaned.
He snorted a laugh. "You sure you want to be walking around like that?"
She blinked and gasped as she clutched her towel even tighter, bewildered that she had forgotten to get dressed.
"I mean, I don't mind," he continued, "'Specially the hair."
"Shut up, get out, and gimme five minutes!"
She forcefully shoved Nick outside the room, pissed at his laughter and coy smile. She slammed the door shut and stomped over to her bed, snatching up the clothes to wear. She took a few breaths to calm down before looking back at the door. She then half smiled as the silly thought of marrying Nick crossed her mind again.

Five minutes later, a now fully dressed Rochelle made her way back to the closed door. She stopped just before reaching the handle, realizing she had forgotten to tie her hair up. She quickly pulled all of her locs back with her hands, removing the hair band from her wrist to tie them. However, she stopped herself just before securing her hair in place, as if having second thoughts about it.
"God, what am I doing?" She sighed pensively as she placed the hair tie back on her wrist.
She reached for the door again. When it opened, there stood Nick, patiently waiting, and smiling that annoying, inviting smile. All while wearing that stupid plaid shirt.
"Took you long enough," he joked.
"I said five minutes, didn't I?"
With both of them right there, the entrance grew too narrow. Nick squeezed past Rochelle, his body grazing against hers. At just the right time, his frame brushed atop her breasts, activating his boyish curiosity on what they looked like without all the damn clothes in the way. He exhaled to release the thought.
Rochelle felt his chest, too. For a fraction of a second, her body turned to flame, and a small cloud fogged her mind. She staggered slowly behind Nick, trying to lower the fire with some distance, but only so much could be done in a tiny room like this. He laid down on his bed, arms stretched and folded behind his head. Meanwhile, Rochelle sat upright on hers, struggling to find something to talk about.
"Thanks for the clothes," she attempted quietly, "That was really nice of you."
Nick turned to face her. "No problem. Though, for what it's worth, I did try to find you a shirt uglier than this one."
"Oh, it's still ugly. Men's clothes are not flattering on me at all."
"I asked Virgil for something different, but he said he burned all his wife's clothes when she turned."
"Oh… I see."
Well now I feel like an asshole.
"Don't dwell on it too much. It's not like there's a mall out here in the bayou."
"True. But still, I really wasn't expecting that. So, uh, thanks."
He gave her a wink. "Con artists can be nice sometimes, too, sweetheart."
While Rochelle rolled her eyes in annoyance, Nick could see the faint smile across her face.
"Speaking of Virgil," she spoke, "any luck with your cigarettes?"
He shook his head. "Nope. Not a one. 'Hadn't smoked in years,' he said."
"Well, that might be for the better then. Smoking'll send you to an early grave you know."
"Funny, Virgil said the same thing."
Rochelle chuckled. "At least you kept him some company."
"Yeah, we did talk for quite a bit."
"What about?"
"Nothing specific. Just… we're gonna be on this river for quite some time, Ro, even after the storm."
"How long did he say?"
"One fuckin' week if we're lucky."
"Is he for real?"
"Yep."
"Well, Virgil's lucky I don't get seasick! Otherwise, we'd have a problem."
Nick chuckled. He watched Rochelle's eyes closely, enjoying her fiery look whenever she gave a sassy comeback.
"But just think, Nick!" She continued, "We've got a little over a week, and we'll finally be in New Orleans!"
"My last week stuck with you guys?" He said sarcastically, "Can't wait."
Rochelle's mouth pursed as she looked towards the ground. Even as a joke, she couldn't help but wonder if Nick's plans on making his grand exit were still in motion.
"By the way," his words reached her ears, "Virgil did ask me something rather peculiar… about you."
Rochelle's eyes immediately rose to meet his own. She recognized the scheming tone in his voice.
"So now the old men are gossiping about me?" she said half-jokingly.
"It wasn't really gossip, mind you. It was more of a question, really."
"Well, what did he ask?"
"If you were single."
"Haha! Why can't old folks just talk about bingo or the weather or whatever it is old folks like these days?"
"Beats me. But I think he's got a bit of a crush on you."
"Aw, that's cute. But I'm gonna have to respectfully decline."
"That's what I told him you'd say. But then, he said…"
They both stared at each other as Nick sat up from his comfortable position on the bed. Rochelle raised an eyebrow towards his smirk.
"'Y'all two a thing or somethin'?'" He said mocking Virgil's accent, "'Cuz y'all been actin' mighty strange since ya got back on the boat hyeah! Like y'all kissed but ain't made up yet! Truth be told, I thought you two was murried at one point!'"
Rochelle's heart rate picked up, but she powered through it with a forced laugh. Still, if even Virgil could see it, they must have done a terrible job at hiding it.
"So whaddya say, princess?" Nick continued normally, "Is he right?"
"I'd say the old geezer is nosy as hell!" She shot back.
Nick agreed with a nod and a few chuckles here and there. Rochelle joined in, thankful for the minor lax in tension.
"Southerners, man," he groaned while folding his arms, "They either notice everything or nothing!"
"Yeah…"
Suddenly, the smile on Nick's face faded as he threw a cheeky side eye in her direction. From the stare alone, Rochelle felt a heated pressure stirring in the pit of her stomach. She sharply inhaled a cool breath to keep it from rising any further.
"Y-you…" he stammered, "You do know they know, right?"
"Know what?" she averted her eyes and stared at the ground.
Nick's eyes narrowed. "Ro, are you being fucking serious right now?"
Fear and tension wound tightly across her chest as the billowing heat started to rise. She struggled to think of something to say, to voice how she felt. She wanted everything in her thoughts to just stop. Slowly, she mustered the courage to look at him again, head raised and eyes nearly pinched shut.
"We're just two people who get along well, Nick." She finally let out.
"What?!" he blurted in disbelief.
"That's what they know… right?"
"Oh, so that's how you want to play it, huh?"
"What do you want me to say, Nick?"
They both stared at each other intensely, neither wanting to give in. Even while fuming, Nick couldn't help but fall for her cute, angry little face and pretty, big brown eyes that were all shaped nicely by her alluring hair. Aside from the silence, their breathing almost became uniform before Nick exhaled deeply.
"Okay, fine," he started, "let's pretend for a hot second they don't know."
With their eyes stuck on each other, Rochelle hadn't noticed Nick reaching out to place his large hand atop her knee. She could feel the same warm fingers gently sinking into her skin, causing the fires in her stomach to quickly flare up.
"But we can't pretend that we don't know, can we?" He said lowly.
Rochelle wanted to look away, yet each time her eyes glanced elsewhere, they were lassoed right back into that powerful gaze of his. The tired huskiness in his voice, the attractive blue eyes, the cool expression on his face, his hand… the warmth of his hand keeping her in place…
"I see the way you look at me, Rochelle, eyeing me down like candy."
Her eyes went wide, her well of emotions filling to the brim. She breathed deeply through her mouth, struggling to keep his dizzying spell at bay.
"And those long breaths you take? Only when I'm near you."
Immediately, her lips shut tight, silencing all sounds. Her eyes felt trapped in this spotlight. It was hard to breathe quietly through her nose. He enjoyed making her so flustered. More warmth from his hand traveled upwards slightly along her thigh.
"I bet you can't even think straight with me in the same room as you."
Teeth clenched along with her lips, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer he clearly already knew. Her eyelids fluttered anxiously as he moved his face a little closer to hers, adding a bit of pressure to her leg. His eyes then lowered to the crevice of her neck.
"Maybe that's why you keep touching the hickey I left you."
Instinctively, she clutched his mark with her hand, trying desperately to stop him from looking at it so hungrily. He smirked and gave a short, confident huff, moving even closer to her.
"Can't convince everybody it's just a bruise now," he said before whispering, "can you, sweetheart?"
"Nicolas!"
Rochelle's heart nearly tripped over itself. She stood abruptly from her bed, the warmth on her leg disappearing and running cold. She took several steps away from him, struggling to suck in oxygen from the small space. The inside of her chest turned into a drumming concert, struggling to find a steady heartbeat.
"Y-you don't know what you're…" her voice failed to finish as she stared back at him fiercely, "We… I…"
But Nick kept digging in. "You can try and deny it all you like, Rochelle. But I know you've been wanting to fuck me for hours now!"
Rochelle's hands clenched into two tight balls.
"And what about you, Nick? Huh?" she snapped.
Nick stayed seated and folded his arms as she continued.
"Don't even think about pinning this all on me! You're not innocent either! You think I don't catch you staring at me too? Like you wanna tear off everything I'm wearing? You can't even look away from me when Coach talks to you. You think I don't notice when you…"
She swallowed hard.
"…when you touch me… my arm or my back or my leg? I see that shit. I been seein' that shit since before we even got on this damn boat!"
They both stared at each other, their perverse, frustrating heat still climbing. Nick intentionally stayed quiet, content that Rochelle could at least pick up on some of his growing desire for her.
"Back at that house," she said, "Coach figured it all out from not even so much as a glance between the two of us. And you weren't making things any easier putting your arm around me like that!"
He raised an eyebrow. "And you had a problem with that, sweetie?"
"No… I mean… I didn't. I mean—!"
"Seems like I get you tongue-tied in more ways than just one." A wry smile etched across his face.
"Shut up, Nick!"
He stared back at her irritated. She wasn't calling out anything new. So where was any of this going? Why was she backing out so much? Something didn't feel right. There had to be something else going on inside that head of hers.
"Face it, Ro," Nick pried, "You've got it bad for me whether you like it or not. Why are you trying so hard to hide it?"
"What?" she asked sharply.
"Everyone knows we like each other—"
"'Cept Hee-Haw."
"Heh. May he never change. And yet, you still wanna keep this shit under wraps? Why?"
She hesitated. "I… I…"
"What are you shutting me out for?"
"I'm not shutting you out! I… I just don't want them knowing—"
"Knowing what? That you can't stop thinking of me? Cuz sweetheart, I guarantee you they already know that!"
She didn't want to hear any more of this mocking. Didn't want to hear about her caving for Nick when he wouldn't cave for her.
"They don't know anything about what I'm feeling! A-and neither do you!" She shouted defensively.
Nick blinked in surprise.
"I'm so sick and tired of you acting like you know what it is I… Do you know how embarrassing this is for me to—?"
"Embarrassed? What the hell are you embarrassed about? That you want me? Is that it?"
"No. That… that came out wrong. I—"
"Or are you just embarrassed of me?"
In her mind, the only embarrassing thing for her was vocalizing these deep feelings buried inside her chest. She struggled to accept what her heart already knew, fearing that he too wouldn't accept what she was feeling… if he could even understand these feelings at all. She wouldn't risk being ashamed like that if he didn't want the same things as her. It would turn this fantasy into a nightmare. She couldn't put it into words. Didn't know how to explain it. And at this worst possible moment, she froze, and her voice went quiet.
Nick's own heart dreaded the silence, but it hurt more coming from Rochelle. He knew his rough exterior could ruffle some feathers, but she acted as if he had plucked hers clean. He wanted to chip away at this invisible wall she put up around her, wanted her to admit the same things he had been feeling long before their kiss in the rain. But in his eyes, he saw his own fears coming to fruition. She was pushing him away. And at this worst possible moment, a vexed form of fake laughter slipped from his throat.
"Oh ho-ho!" His voice flared, "So there it is! Reporter Rochelle doesn't want to be caught dead with dangerous conman Nicolas!"
Rochelle quietly shook her head, too frozen to say anything but wanting him to know it wasn't true. Nick's lips twitched as he rolled his eyes angrily at her.
"Figured this would happen, but I thought… I thought you saw past that with me."
He suddenly threw himself backwards on the bed again, turning away from her so he didn't have to look her in the eyes anymore. He waved her off with a dismissive hand.
"Sorry for the confusion when your tongue was halfway down my throat. Must've been real embarrassing for you, sweetie!"
The nickname stung to hear. Rochelle looked back and forth between Nick and the ground. The silence grew so loudly in the room, it was almost unbearable. She didn't know whether to leave or stay or cry or scream. She wished she knew how to say what was festering in her mind, wished she knew what was going on in both of their heads.
A sudden loud clap of thunder struck the sky, and screeching winds found the inopportune moment to pick up again. The door faintly shook, and Virgil's boat swayed roughly, veering a little too far to one side. Nick sat up a little shaken while Rochelle gasped and clung to the wall. Both beds shifted slightly as items from walls and surfaces fell to the ground, including the desk lamp which abruptly turned off, making the room quite dark. Just before the boat sat upright again, the two heard Rochelle's earrings fall to the floor with a loud clank. Although difficult to fully see, they stared at each other as they heard one of her earrings slide underneath the desk entirely.
Nick then broke the stare with a scoff and eye roll, hopping off the bed and getting on all fours on the ground. Rochelle furrowed her brows in confusion as she watched him pick up one of the earrings and place it back on the desk. He leaned back down, stretching his arm deep underneath to look for the missing one. Rochelle's heart contorted with the whirlwind of her feelings. Unable to focus on one, she rushed over to Nick's side.
"You don't have to do that," she said.
"I got it." He replied sharply.
He kept his eyes forward, still stretching his arm far under the desk. Rochelle sighed with frustration as she too got on the floor.
"Let me at least help you."
"I told you I got it, Ro."
She ignored him and placed her arm underneath the desk as well. She tilted her head as she struggled to peer through the darkness. Nick eyed her for half a second before continuing the search.
"Find it yet?" he asked.
"Not yet… Oh! Is that—?"
"Here it is."
Both flinched as they touched something cold and warm. At the same time, they pulled their arms out from under the desk, revealing their fingers curled overtop both the earring and each other. The warmth slowly turned to lingering heat, and neither pulled away. Instead, their fingers lightly grazed each other's, creating even more heat across their skin. No matter how pissed off they seemed to get, it was surprisingly easy to calm that anger from just a simple touch. They raised their heads again to look at one another, struggling to see their faces amidst the darkness.
Rochelle gave a sheepish smile. "Thanks."
Nick returned the smile briefly as he placed the earring in the palm of her hand. He then folded her fingers over top of it, keeping her warm hand within his.
His mind spun in circles trying to think of a response, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly as he stared back at his friend. Rochelle looked at him concerned.
"Forgive me, okay?" He muttered finally, "I shouldn't have done that."
She stammered, "I-It's okay. I'm… I'm sorry I upset you. What I said… I didn't mean—"
"That's not…" he interrupted, "That's not what I meant. I'm sorry for… for crossing that line with you. I just wanted to know where we stood."
Rochelle looked at him dumbfounded.
"What?"
"Look, I… I should never have even asked you. I just wanted to know what this was for a long time and…"
"Nick, what are you saying?"
"I shouldn't…" he sighed deeply, "I shouldn't have kissed you."
Rochelle's eyes blinked open wide, a hurt expression taking over her face.
"I wanted to know if this was going anywhere because I…"
His voice trailed off with another frustrated sigh. Rochelle's expression worsened.
"Since you've made it clear it wasn't, I'm sorry for—"
"Nicolas! Please… stop."
She clasped her hands over his own, adding more warmth to their skin.
"Listen. Never apologize to me for that again! I…"
She squeezed his hands tighter and tighter, looking at him with pleading eyes.
"I did want to kiss you," she confessed, "and I did want to shove my tongue down your throat. Not just halfway."
Nick chuckled at her sudden directness, a cheeky tone mixed with her words. He eased her grip by entwining his fingers within hers, slowly caressing them with a gentle touch. She lightly caressed them right back.
"I-I'm trying to figure out what this is, too," she continued, "Things have just been awkward between us since then, and… I was never embarrassed of you."
His heart lifted a bit as he stared long and hard into those brown eyes of hers. For the first time, he saw parts of her walls coming down. It still could use some work, but he at least felt her being more honest with him. He sighed with relief and smiled at her again.
"Must've been a real long time since you puckered up to any old guy then." He teased.
Rochelle sucked her teeth. "Oh, shut up, Nick. You're not that old… or terrible… of a kisser."
She looked away briefly as he gave her a playful smirk. He continued caressing her fingers with his own.
"Cute girls gotta have some standards, I take it," he said sarcastically.
"Yeah, I don't kiss ugly old men if that's what you're implying."
"Right. You only kiss handsome ones… like me."
His eyelids half-lowered as she groaned in annoyance. Slowly, he stood himself up, leading Rochelle with him as he still held onto her hands.
"Speaking of which," he started teasingly, "You may have dodged me last time, but I wanna know. What does Rochelle look for in handsome old men?"
"Well, it certainly isn't your attitude." she said plainly.
"Quit stallin', sweetheart. I want specifics."
"I, uhh…"
Rochelle scanned his face in the dark for an answer. While she struggled to look at his features, Nick moved his hands to her forearms, enamored with the softness of her skin. He had to mentally fight off the urge to run his fingers all up and down her body.
"Well? Cat got your tongue?" He asked.
"Can't I just keep it a secret?"
"And wait for the second apocalypse to start? I think not."
It was hard for Rochelle not to think of Nick pulling her forward and leaning down, pressing his face against hers. She loved the way his firm grip felt.
"I can hardly see a thing in the dark," she teased, "Mind's drawin' a blank trying to see you in this dingy old room."
His voice lowered to a gravel. "Let me fix that then."
Releasing all warmth, he took his hands away from Rochelle and searched the floor for the fallen desk lamp. As he reconnected it, Rochelle couldn't help but miss his touch, the imprints from his fingers still prevalent on her hands and wrists. When Nick flipped the switch, neither had realized just how long they had been sitting in darkness. He gave Rochelle a small smile, glad to see her face again. Though he damn near forgot how perfect her lips looked in the light…
"How's this?" He asked.
"Better," she responded coolly.
Rochelle cocked her head to the side, admiring all parts of his face. She hadn't noticed Nick focusing on her lips. Her mind was elsewhere, thinking back to how good it felt to press her nose up against his, their warm breaths so close to one another. Hmmm…what did she like about him? Of all the things, what stood out? Her heart beat loudly when she realized how long they had been staring at each other.
That's when she found it.
"Your eyes." she said bluntly.
"My eyes? Really?" he asked, blinking out of his stupor.
Rochelle nodded as she peered into them. "They're pretty."
"Aw, are you one of those girls that get lost in the deep ocean blues?"
"What is this, a shitty novella?" she groaned, "They look like marbles to me, the shiny ones I used to play with as a kid."
"That's oddly… specific."
"It's oddly… familiar."
"Well, would you like to, uh, see them up close?"
"Yes," she answered without hesitation, still staring into them.
Nick's heart warmed from her response, eager to see more of her walls falling down. Nick lowered his head down to hers while Rochelle placed a hand against his cheek. The heat from her palm made blood rush to his face. He placed his own hand atop hers, causing even more heat to transcend down the length of her arm. They were already so close, and yet, somehow, they managed to be even closer.
A more pleasant silence took shape as they fixed their gaze on each other. Rochelle soaked in the color of his eyes. Stone blue and gentle beneath all that tough guy exterior. The desk light shone across his face at a particular angle that gave them quite a shine.
Damn, they really are like my marbles.
"Nick, I-I…"
"Yes?"
Nick grasped her hand tighter and tighter. He craved touching her for so long, wanting her lips more than anything. He barely controlled himself to not scare her away. As she stared into his eyes, Rochelle's breathing deepened.
"I don't want things to be tense between us," she admitted, "What I'm feeling, what you're feeling… It's just a lot for me to process right now. So… I guess what I'm trying to say is… forgive me, okay?"
Slowly, she rubbed his cheek with her thumb, feeling the rough stubble near his jawline. Nick leaned more into it, suppressing an aroused growl from his throat. He then removed her fingers from his face and kissed the back of it. A heated explosion erupting each time his lips made contact with her skin. Rochelle could hardly focus on anything else.
"I'm sure there are ways you can make it up to me," he joked slyly.
She rolled her eyes and smiled before taking her other hand and smacking his shoulder playfully. On the inside, however, she could feel the tempo in her drumming chest steadily picking up speed. She stayed silent, too enveloped by his eyes to give some witty comeback. It felt nice to be this close to him again. It felt even nicer that he wanted to be this close. She could feel his other arm connect with her lower back. She silently gasped as her thoughts ran wild from his simple touch. Rochelle easily pictured several ways she could make it up to him. And he'd like them all. She could've sworn his face moved in closer. Her breathing increased again. She was slipping. If things kept going this way… if the inevitable was truly going to happen…
"So… that question you asked me earlier today," she started, gathering her nerves, "about the last time I was… intimate with someone. I'd say it's been at least three years."
Nick blinked wildly at her, a completely flabbergasted look sprawled all the way across his face.
"Th…Three years?!" he stammered, "No way. No fucking way. You? Zip. Zilch. Nada. In three years?"
"Sheesh, you don't have to rub it in."
"I'm not trying to. Believe me!"
"Yeah, well, do a better job."
"What about that Jacob guy you're always going on about?"
Rochelle shook her head. "Just a friend. Last person I saw before this whole thing went down, really."
"And you didn't do anything with him?"
She gave a look of disgust. "Boy, that is my coworker!"
"Was. He was your coworker."
"Yeah… he's probably zombie food by now."
"But seriously. No dates? No hookups? Nothing?"
"God, why is this so hard for you to believe?"
He moved his arm away from Rochelle and placed it on his hips. He then tilted his head dramatically and steered his eyes up and down her body.
"With the way you look," he started sarcastically, "You really want me to answer that, sweetheart?"
She tried to play off his compliment as her cheeks grew warm. "Ugh! N-Never mind!"
"Wait a minute… Wait a minute! You're rusty!"
"I beg your pardon?"
A devious grin curved on his face.
"I mean you said it before but… you're actually rusty!"
"Dammit, Nicolas, I'm a Christian! I'm not trying to fuck every pair of legs I see!"
"I mean, I'd be willing to teach an old dog new tricks if that's what you need…"
She scoffed. "I don't need to know all the sinful things you like to do with women!"
Nick's grin didn't falter as he narrowed his eyes at her further. He could smell her bullshit a mile away.
"Besides," she continued, "dating is hard in your near-30s! I've only ever had a handful of partners!"
"Even that jackass?"
"You mean my last boyfriend? Of course not. I would never let him hit this."
"Thank God. Finally, something we both agree on."
They broke out into laughter, enjoying the ease held in their conversation. Rochelle then placed her small hand on Nick's shoulder. She hadn't even realized she'd done it. She just wanted to feel him again. His muscles tensed slightly from the warmth of her touch. Looking down at it, he wrapped his hand around hers, rubbing her fingers as softly as he could.
"So, hypothetically, out of your 'handful of partners,'" he started, "what number would that make me?"
"The fourth."
Nick blinked in true surprise, accidentally letting out a scoff. He still had a hard time wrapping his head around all of this… or why she was even telling him in the first place.
"And how do you think I would rank among the other three?" he asked with a sly smile.
She hesitated briefly, "I-I plead the fifth. We're not on that level yet."
Nick chuckled as he kept caressing her hand. She could tell by the look on his face how much he'd like to be on that level with her. Flaming sparks trickled down her arm all the way to her shoulder. Both her mind and body didn't want him to stop.
"Rustiness aside," he joked, "I'd still say you're a pretty great kisser."
She batted her eyelids in a teasing manner and smiled.
"Really?" she asked, "You're not bullshitting me?"
"Oh, I wouldn't lie about that, sweetheart." He answered coolly.
Nick leaned in a little closer to her until both of their chests pressed against each other.
"Your lips are as soft as pillows." He insisted, "Very kissable."
Rochelle raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Thanks. And for a white guy with thin lips, I guess yours are pretty soft, too."
Nick rolled his eyes and chuckled. "They may not be as plump as yours…"
She felt his other hand snake around her lower back again.
"…but they are here waiting for you."
That low voice mixed with his warm breath, so close to her face, cast a shiver that traveled from the base of her neck to the top of her head. She struggled to control her panting. Lips curled upwards on that handsome face of his. He still kept her hand on his shoulder. Rochelle took her other hand and placed it again on his cheek.
"Your lips can wait," she said quietly, "I want to keep looking at your eyes for now."
"Alright, fine."
Nick suddenly leaned his entire body forward, causing Rochelle to gasp as he pushed her back into the desk until she sat on top of it. Her legs involuntarily spread apart as he stood between them, eliminating all remaining distance. Her eyes blinked wildly from his sudden gesture, their faces now resting at eye level. Her hand never left his cheek while both of his hands crept to her back. Her breathing picked up significantly.
"How's this?" he asked with temptation dripping from his voice.
"Perfect." She whispered.
Apart from their heavy sighs and breaths, the two stared silently at each other. Rochelle steadied Nick's head with her palm. He could feel her warmth flooding half of his face. He looked at her intensely, slowly dragging his fingers up her back. He felt her muscles tense as she pushed more of her body forward to him. He suppressed a growl as best as he could. His hand crawled up, up, up her spine until it reached her head. He played with a few of her locs, rubbing them between his fingertips. It was rare to see her hair like this, but he loved watching the way they dangled along the sides of her face; almost as much as she loved to tug on his own follicles.
His touch drove Rochelle insane as she continued to study his face. Every breath she took felt so thin no matter how strongly she sucked through her teeth. Nick didn't need to say anything to her. His marbled eyes did all the talking, observing her hungrily the more she stroked his cheek. Her own eyes looked back at him with an insatiable hunger, her small hand slipping down to feel more of his rough 5 o'clock shadow. How she wished he'd rub it against the side of her neck again… like in the abandoned house. Nick moved his hand from her locs to her jawline, touching her skin gently as his eyes lowered to those delicious-looking lips of hers. He licked his own to control his appetite.
Their gaze held firm, transfixed onto one another. The inside of Rochelle's legs quivered with so much of his weight pressed against her—just how she liked it. Heat rose from her belly as she thought back to everything she did in the shower, wanting him to touch every lustful part of her body that hungered for him. It was overwhelming. His eyes seemed to taunt her, pressing her to act on her thoughts. Her head felt light. She dragged her hand across his face sliding down from his cheek. They gently brushed across his lips before trailing down to the base of his neck. Nick couldn't stifle his growls any longer, nearly letting out a snarl as he pulled her in for a tighter embrace. She gasped quietly, leaning more towards him. Their noses nearly touched. A heavy sigh escaped them both as he took his hand from her jawline and placed it square on her chin. He lifted her head ever so slightly. His thumb rubbed against her lower lip tauntingly slow, causing it to separate from the upper and letting her breathe even heavier than before. His touch was so tender yet set her whole being aflame.
She closed her eyes and whispered, "Nicolas…"
The more aroused he got, the harder it was for him to stay focused. The forbidden seedling she had planted earlier in his mind began to take root. Would she really not be as feisty this time? As much as he liked her spunk, his thoughts excitedly went out of control, pondering on how far she'd let him go. No fighting back, no resistance, just having pure unadulterated fun with her for hours on end. He wanted it. Craved it. Wanted her to lust, whine, and beg for it. The growth in his pants agreed, wanting to let loose and be free to ravage every part of her until it was unrecognizable. His breathing was almost as heavy as hers. Slowly, he edged closer and closer still, eyes deadlocked on her lips. He closed his marbles, ready to embrace whatever came next as his lips gently hovered and brushed over hers…
THWAM!
The door swung open with a loud bang, throwing Nick and Rochelle completely off guard as they turned their heads.
"Shit!" They both gasped.
The cold, howling wind rushed into the room, keeping the door open to allow more of itself inside.
"This fucking storm!" Rochelle cursed.
She scurried herself off the desk and out of Nick's arms to close it, ignoring the newly added layer of sin between her thighs. He followed right behind her to help. The wind proved formidable when they tried to close the door. Nick stood from behind, placing his hands just above hers as they pushed it with all their might. With heavy grunting, the two fought against the wind as best as they could. Slowly yet surely, the door gave way, and the pair was able to close it. Rochelle panted, putting her arms down and slightly leaning against the door.

"Phew! We did it!" She said exhausted.

Nick didn't respond. All she could hear was his calming breath from behind. Still leaning against the door, she hadn't noticed that his arms were stretched on opposite sides of her. His hand hadn't moved from the door yet, nor did she turn to face him. Instead, he brought his face closer, his lips ghosting over her neck. His breathing calmed, but the warm air tickled and caused her body to pulsate.
"Rochelle."
The sound of her name echoing from that sultry voice made her stand at attention. She still kept her back towards him. Nick then grabbed the door's lever for the lock and slammed it in place, ensuring the wind would never again disturb them.
"I think you know what I'm gonna ask you now… right, Ro?"
She inhaled sharply, struggling to keep her heartbeat from going crazy. Her attempt proved in vain when Nick leaned harder against her, nuzzling her neck and shoulder.
"Ni…hhhh…"
His lips trailed slightly upwards, causing more of the steam from his breath to fog her skin. Her small frame trembled between the contrasts of the cold door and Nick's heated body pressing further along her back.
"I know you remember…" he whispered, "…but I wonder if you think about it as often as I do."
Rochelle gasped when Nick pinched bits of her skin with his teeth. She clenched her hands into tight, shaky fists.
"It's been running through my mind all day," he cooed.
Rochelle couldn't tell if she was aroused, or having a heart attack from her chest drumming so rapidly. His face crawled up next to hers, his body pressing even harder.
"How it didn't need to be over…"
He leaned against her face, making her head tilt, exposing more of her soft skin. The hot and cold sensations drove her wild. She nearly moaned.
"Nick…"
"How it could be romantic on the water…"
Suddenly, he grabbed and held the side of her face, pushing her ear directly towards his mouth so he could whisper in her ear.
"How we could finish what we started during our gas run."
"Nick!"
She quickly turned around, back facing the door. She panted heavily, unable to calm down her heartbeat. Both her hands and knees shook as he brought one of his arms around her waist. His eyes looked so serious; it was enthralling to say the least.
"Do you still feel that way?" he asked.
Rochelle hesitated and anxiously looked away. She struggled to think of a response. She felt voiceless, still unable to find the right words to say what she wanted to say, too fearful to hear his response. All she could do was breathe. Nick lightly grabbed her chin again and raised her face, holding her in place to have her look at him.
"Jesus, Ro," he sighed, "you're like a dog in heat ready to hump the shit outta my leg you wanna fuck me so bad. I can see it. It's not the damn walls you're worried about. It's something else. So what's stopping you?"
Again, she hesitated, still breathing heavily. Nick stared into her puppy-dog eyes. It was surprising—no, blindly infuriating—how neither of them had made a move yet. He feared her walls returning. They had gone too far to stop now. They could keep going. So why weren't they?
"Ro, spit it out!" he insisted.
"I… I…"
"Are you scared of me?"
"No…"
"Then what is it?!"
"I-I… I'm… I…"
Again, she stared silently, the mental gymnastics in her brain keeping her preoccupied. Slowly, she opened her mouth, but no words came. Nick stared at her, frustrated, annoyed, infatuated, and confused. As much as he didn't want to, he started to pull away.
With sadness in his voice, he said, "Ro, I can't want this if you don't."
Rochelle could feel the warmth quickly dissipating between them. Of all the things she couldn't bear, him taking his touch away was the worst. She blinked as she watched him somberly shake his head and pull away more. Before he could take his arms completely off of her, she gripped his wrists and held him steady.
"Nick, wait!" she cried.
He stopped dead in his tracks, staring back at Rochelle with a curious yet impatient look. As much as her indecision irritated him, he was glad to see her still wanting to talk about it. Rochelle took a long, deep breath before battling her mind one last time. She still wasn't sure if she had found all the words yet.
"Y…y-yes," she admitted nervously, "Yes, I am scared."
"Scared of what, Ro?" he asked, worried he might be the cause.
Again, she took another deep breath, uncertain if her favorite person would receive it well.
She started off slow. "N-Nick, where does it all go from here?"
He tilted his head curiously, silently listening.
"If we do this… if we really do this… I'm scared it'll change us."
"Change us? What are you talking about? Nobody's changing anything!"
Her eyes darted to the floor. "You said… So many times, you said you didn't want to stay. That you want to be alone. That you're not a group type. I mean that's—"
She sighed again, struggling to relax. Nick's eyes softened as he continued to listen, but he couldn't understand her amidst all of her rambling.
"That's fine and all, but not for… I… WE need to stay focused. Death is around every corner, and Ellis got hurt really bad today. But all I can think about is you, and… dammit, I don't know what we want out of this. Ugh! What I'm feeling is so stupid! I'm thinking you won't want to stay, and why would you stay honestly? You have no reason to. But I'd like it if you… if you could… but you won't… you don't want…"
Nick caught an extra glint of shine in her eyes.
Fuck, is she about to cry?
Before Rochelle continued rambling, he pulled her in an embrace, squeezing her tightly to calm her down. He felt her arms slip behind him as well, gripping him even tighter. His hand put pressure on the back of her head rubbing it gently back and forth.
"I'm here, sweetie."
Almost instantly her nerves and muscles relaxed. It was the first time her mind didn't want to spin out of control from his voice, as if she were wrapped in a warm, velvety blanket. So safe, so full, so happy. She closed her eyes and let herself melt even further into his arms, clasping his back tighter and tighter. She leaned her head towards his and he leaned right back against hers.
"Now start from the top." He said gently.
She swallowed hard. "This… this feeling I'm having… i-it's more than physical for me, Nick. I… I like you. I'm scared, but I like you!"
"What are you afraid of?"
"I'm afraid of this being… I want it to work, but I'm worried."
"Rochelle…"
Holding his head in position, Nick listened intently to what she had to say. He was only mildly distracted when her faint aroma of a clean after-shower scent crept to his nostrils. Rochelle was equally enamored by his deep touch and low voice which rocked half of her body from his vibrations alone.
"Nick," she started again, "Once we do this, you know there's no going back, right?"
"Explain."
"Any one of us could die at any moment. You, me, Coach, Ellis. We've had so many close calls… too many! Then Ellis almost died today! I saw how shaken up you were, like he wasn't going to make it. And if that… God, if that were me, I wouldn't want to do that to you… if something happened to you, I don't know what I'd do!"
"We might not be guaranteed safety in New Orleans either, Ro," he added, "Who's to say that CEDA won't try to kill us first?"
"We still have to try, but…"
She hesitated, so close to the root of her problem and yet so far. Nick hugged her tighter, comforting her as best as he could. Whatever it took to tear down these rapidly falling walls.
"But what?" he asked softly, feeling her grip on his back relax a little. The comfort she felt from his voice was so soothing.
"What if everything works out?" She asked with a sincere tone, "What if… what if we do survive it all and don't get infected? What if CEDA does rescue us and this whole zombie shit finally ends? You… Would you still…?"
Nick noticed a higher pitch change in her voice. He slowly rubbed her back and rocked side to side with her. She blinked away the extra moisture in her eyes and pulled herself together.
"You could just leave and not come back," she said sadly, "as if whatever we all went through didn't matter. You don't want to stay, but I wonder if you'd look back and…"
She sighed.
"I'm scared you'll leave, and I'll be alone again."
Nick could hear the strain in her voice trying to admit that. He felt a pang of guilt for riling her up so much.
"Ro, I—"
"Before you say it," she interrupted, "I… you should know that I really don't care about what you've done in your past. I see what kind of person you are now, Nick, and that's all that matters to me."
He blinked in total surprise, a genuine smile slowly spreading across a face she couldn't see.
"You're a real good person, Nick," she continued, "You've done a lot of good things, great things even! For us, for Ellis… for me… whether we're killing zombies or having moments like this… that's why I like you."
"And you're scared I'm gonna leave you high and dry when you need me most. Is that it?"
Rochelle didn't respond, but he already knew the answer. All he could do was continue to hold her lovingly. Slowly, she pulled away from his embrace. He placed his hands over her forearms, caressing them gently. She didn't stop him. She wanted it. Needed to keep his warm touch on her body while she looked at his face. She stared deeply into the two things that made him most handsome. The calm, caring eyes were fixed onto Rochelle as well.
"I don't want us to be a one-time thing, Nick." She said, "We just can't. I don't want to be physical with you and then have nothing come from it. I've… I've been through that before, and it's not a nice feeling. I need this to be more than lust between us. I want this to be… something!"
"So… a relationship?"
Rochelle blinked and furrowed her brows in hesitation. Hearing it said out loud sounded strange. Official? Absolute? She wasn't sure. But it did solidify one thing: it made her and Nick tangible.
"Yes," she said.
She searched his eyes closely, fearful of him showing signs of disgust or rejection. Instead, they remained unchanged. Sincere, heartfelt, accepting. His smile, however, confused her. Was there maybe something she said that was funny?
Rochelle anxiously shook her head, "Well, uhh, now that I hear it, it does sound a little childish."
"I don't think so. Heh. It's actually kind of cute."
Her tense muscles relaxed once more. She didn't know what kind of reaction Nick would have to all of this, but she was glad it was the right one. She smiled as she pulled her arms back until her hands touched his. They both locked their fingers with each other.
With full intent backing her words, she said, "I don't want you to leave, Nick. I don't want to lose you. Not ever."
Their fingers stayed entwined for quite some time, happily looking at each other. Nick hadn't the faintest idea that that was weighing on her mind so heavily.
"Rochelle," he attempted to speak, "I, uhh, don't know what to say except… whoever that last guy you dated was, if he isn't killed by zombies, I'm beating the living shit out of him!"
Rochelle giggled as he brought her hand to his lips, never breaking their connection. His kiss tingled her skin.
"And I want you to know that I'm not leaving you," he said honestly, "not by a long shot, Ro."
Her smile grew larger, silently overjoyed by what she'd been wanting to hear for so long.
"I did at first," he admitted, "but that was a long time ago. I've always had to look out for myself, you know. Being friendly ain't part of my job or lifestyle."
His grip on her fingers tightened.
"Not even my wife gave a shit about me." he said dryly, "Heh. Guess that shows you how little I can trust people."
"Nick…" Rochelle stared at him with apologetic eyes.
"That's what I thought at first too when I met you gaggle of misfits!" He joked.
She scoffed. "You don't say?"
"I do say!" He retorted smugly, "I thought Coach was putting on this pretentious, judgy, goody-two-shoes act when what he really needed was a diet. Ellis is hillbilly hick personified with no real clue on what the fuck is going on. And as for you…"
They both smirked at each other.
"Watch it." She warned.
"I thought you were this pretty but annoying loud girl who got stuck in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Hey!" She chided.
"But I don't think of you guys like that anymore," his tone softened, "Coach is like family to me, more like an annoying dad really. Ellis is still the bane of my existence, but at least the kid means well. He's growin' on me. And as for you…"
"Mhm?" Rochelle stared suggestively at Nick.
"You're still loud, but you've got a lot of spunk, sweetie!"
"Oh lord."
Rochelle rolled her eyes as she jokingly (and dramatically) broke her hands free from his grip. They both laughed when Nick pulled her in for another embrace.
"I'm not finished, sweetie." He fake scolded, "You're loud, spunky, and I couldn't imagine anyone else I'd rather have by my side—especially in a zombie-filled apocalypse!"
He then leaned his face down to hers until their foreheads touched.
"She's easy on the eyes, too." He teased while rubbing their noses together.
His contagious smile caused Rochelle to laugh and punch him in his arm. Nick kept his forehead pressed against hers. She loved the warmth it gave her. She brought her hands to his shoulders, closing her eyes as they absorbed more of each other. Their physical touches steadily built-up heat between them. It took a minute for Nick to focus back on his words.
"What I'm trying to say is, now that I know you all, I'm not about to just give that all up. And that includes you too, Rochelle."
Her slow sighs grew deep and heavy. She slowly rubbed her hands on his shoulders, making Nick inhale sharply from her touch.
"I've… always had trouble getting along with other people—"
"I never would have guessed."
Nick quickly brought a finger to her lips.
"Hush," he said sharply, "I'm gettin' mushy for you here."
She chuckled. Even as a joke, she still loved the feeling of his warmth against her skin.
"Making friends was never part of the plan," he continued, "but I'm willing to give it a shot. Shit, I promised Coach an entire fucking cow. And with you, Rochelle…"
Using the same hand that shushed her, he cupped the side of her face stroking her cheek ever so gently.
"…I'm willing to give you more than that." He said, "All that I've got, really."
Rochelle was elated to hear that, leaning more and more against his hand. Nick's eyes focused so closely on her lips, he could have sworn he saw her mouthing his name again.
"As long as you want me or need me, I'm here to stay. I like you too much to just up and leave you like that. But… can you keep a secret?"
Rochelle's eyes suddenly flipped open as she saw the familiar sly smirk on his face.
"What secret?" she whispered playfully.
Slowly, he brought his lips to her ear. The lingering warmth and touch sending powerful sparks down her spine, something she hadn't felt since they were back in Ducatel.
"I didn't want this to be a one-time thing either," he confessed, "I'm down for whatever you want, casual or not, but I've been wanting more from you, too."
"Oh, so you… also want me and you in a—?"
"Well, now that I hear it, it does sound a little childish. Heheheheheh."
"Shut up." Rochelle groaned from his mocking.
He chuckled as he finally pulled himself back from her, arms and all. The heat surprisingly never left his body. Rochelle smiled a gorgeous smile at him, though her eyes seemed to long for his touch again.
"And as for dying," he continued, "I'll fight to keep myself alive as long as you do the same."
She folded her arms, "Oh, is that a fact?"
He held out and slightly wiggled his pinky finger. She slowly brought out her own pinky and locked it with his.
"It's a promise, sweetheart."
She smiled, locking their promise even tighter. Nick then took his whole hand and spread out hers before grasping all of her fingers. He smiled right back at her.
"What are the odds I could get a conman to confess his feelings for me?" She asked with a cheeky smile.
"I know. You might want to give up on this whole reporter thing and try out my line of work."
"That depends. Do I have to wear one of those dirty old white suits, too?"
"Hilarious, Rochelle. A true comedian."
"Hey, maybe that's my calling."
"On second thought, stick to hard news, sweetie."
They both snickered quietly, their hands gripping each other tighter.
"I like you, Rochelle."
"I like you too, Nicolas."
Nick's marbled eyes stayed glued to Rochelle's earthy brown ones. Their smiles never wavered. Everything seemed just right, like nothing else on the boat mattered but them. Rochelle took a step closer to Nick, lingering heat rising again. He followed suit until their chests pressed against one another.
"So, I take it this is a relationship now?" He asked.
"I'd like to think so." she answered, "It still feels a little weird saying it out loud though."
"Sweetheart, that's because this is the first time you're not with a loser!"
"Jesus, Nick," she rolled her eyes, "so are you gonna build me a house in the middle of the woods now like Keith?"
Nick laughed, "Hell no! Wait, you didn't actually buy that Keith story, did you?"
"Of course not!"
"Good. That makes two of us."
Rochelle chuckled as she felt Nick's hand rubbing against her fingers softly, if not suggestively. She rose an eyebrow when he gave her one of those looks that asked for trouble.
"Besides," he started, "there's more than one way to show a woman love."
She blinked as he slowly brought her hand closer and closer to his face. Repeatedly, he raised and lowered his eyebrows in a flirty manner towards her. He looked so silly, she couldn't help but laugh.
"Nicolas! Quit playin'!"
"Oh, I ain't playin'! I'm breaking your three-year streak tonight!"
Her breath hitched and her heart bounced from him saying that, heat building in her cheeks.
"You seriously need to spend some time with a man who knows what he wants… and who he wants."
As he kissed her hand a third time, his eyes suddenly changed from playful to serious. Her skin shivered from the shift in demeanor, his low, lust-driven voice enticing her as well.
"So spend it with me." He said bluntly.
Rochelle silently watched him kiss all of her fingers one by one. Nick kept his eyes on her, making sure she knew full well he wasn't going anywhere. Leaving her behind? Not a chance in hell. He wanted this. She wanted this. And he wasn't about to let either of them stop until they got it.
After warming up the last finger, his kisses trailed to her arm next. Rochelle inhaled sharply, not saying a thing. Her body shook with each contact his lips made with her skin, as if he tried to damn near melt it all off. With her eyes, she scanned him carefully, feeling her own ravenous appetite steadily coming back.
She knew she wanted to finish what they started back in Ducatel, but there was so much to take in. She had Nick, had his promise, had him all to herself in this small, dimly lit room… with no wandering eyes in sight. His kisses stopped short just before reaching the end of her forearm. As he stared at her, he wrapped her in yet another embrace, her hands resting against his chest. Their noses touched again, letting their breaths form a foggy heat across their lips.
"Spend it with me…" he repeated in a whisper.
"You're such a flirt," she chuckled awkwardly.
"Of course I am… especially when you're mine now."
He slowly dragged his head down, brushing his lips all across her until he reached the crevice of her neck. Rochelle could feel him just above her hickey, placing warm and wet pressure along her skin. She closed her eyes, letting her fingers slightly dig into his chest. Every breath, every hungry kiss caused her to quietly gasp and take in more air due to his relentless touch.
"My little sweetheart…" he whispered possessively.
His kisses moved with the slowest of crawls up her neck, not really wanting to leave their tender spot. Rochelle leaned her head slightly, pushing some of her locs out of the way to give him more access. He gave her a sound of approval, rewarding her with deeper kisses along her neck. He could hear her breath falter and shake the more his heated sighs baked her skin. Her fingers sunk further into his chest. He liked the feel of it.
"Do you remember the last time we were this close?" He asked in between kisses, "How torturous this has been for me?"
Her words were barely audible, too focused on the pleasure. "How could I not? I can barely think of anything else."
"I stand by what I said before, Rochelle. Just say the word and I promise to make you feel so good…"
His kisses turned rough, tongue first, licking at random spots before letting his own lips touch her skin. Rochelle's breath hitched as her hands went to his shoulders for more support. She shut her eyes even tighter. Something between a gasp and a moan nearly escaped from inside of her.
"…like you're supposed to…"
His rough touch got rougher, pinching and pulling bits of her skin with his teeth, until it slipped from his grasp. Her eyes jerked open, a single gasp catching her off guard as it belted forth. He kissed her neck harder and faster.
"…how you should always feel…"
Nick continued his slow ascent. Teeth scraped and gnawed, tongue dampened and lathered, lips soothed with heat. Rochelle gripped his shoulders even tighter. Her temperature was rising every second, breathing hard and heavily. He barely heard her speak.
"Whenever I want it?" She whined.
A loud moan escaped from Nick's throat, sending vibrations through the both of them. He too panted heavily, letting so much of his heat overwhelm her. He sharply grabbed her ass from behind, making her jump and squeak.
"Whenever you need it." He whispered roughly in her ear.
Nick had to restrain himself from completely engulfing her with his lips. He wanted more than just her body. He wanted all of it. Everything. The love, the friendship, the lust, the sounds.
He just wanted Rochelle.
"I know you're hungry for me…" he growled.
Her mouth hung open, his words driving her insane. She tried moving her ear away from him, but Nick pushed her back into position, right where he wanted her.
"…because I'm hungry for you."
Rochelle's heartbeat was loud enough for him to hear it against his own chest. Hard thumping that only excited him more and more.
"I…" she lost her train of thought.
Nick's love bites made it hard for her to control her breathing. Her head almost reared back when she softly let out a moan. Again, Nick made a guttural sound in approval.
"Give yourself to me," his voice fell low into a gruff, lusty whisper.
He moved to her jawline, nipping and soothing at the same time.
"Just say the word."
Her legs grew weary, and her hands started to shake. He hit all the right places, pushed all the right buttons. She thought back to their confessions in Ducatel, falling in love all over again with his touch, his heat, the burning, the words. The spiraling sexual madness was overpowering.
"Rochelle…" he urged, nuzzling the side of her cheek.
"Nicolas," she whimpered, "it's all so much… I… I…"
She suddenly heard Nick give a long inhale, then a deep exhale as he finally pulled himself from her neck. She saw the wanton look in his eyes. They were starving. She thought he would devour her right there on the spot.
"Okay," he said with a huff, "I'm havin' a hard time controlling myself, so let me make this real easy for you, sweetie."
He then roughly pushed Rochelle into the door, a loud clang from behind superseding her surprised yelp. Her hands slipped from his shoulders, holding onto his taut biceps instead. His hands slipped under her shirt from the sudden movement, raking it up high above her stomach. His thumbs dipped into her skin just beneath her bra. Their bodies were crushed together, leaving no place for either of them to hide, their wild heartbeats exposed to each other.
He placed one of his knees between her legs, spreading them wide apart, raising it well into her privates. Rochelle could barely stand on her tiptoes. She blinked nervously, hoping Nick hadn't noticed just how damp she was in the center. Both stared at each other, unmoving, Rochelle's shaky breath intertwining with Nick's steady one. Their lips barely grazed against one another, mouths hanging open.
And then, from the low, rumbling voice that echoed through her body, Nick asked her a simple question.
"Rochelle, do you want me?"
"I… yes."
"You wanna fuck me?"
"…yes."
He sharply sucked in air through his teeth, then exhaled deeply with satisfaction, sending thunderous shockwaves down Rochelle's spine. Not even the storm outside could make her feel this way. He then gently gripped the back of her head, fingers wrapping everywhere in between her beautiful, wet locs, as he softly pulled them down to raise her face up. Her mouth stood directly beneath his.
"Then, may I?" He whispered.
"Why, yes." She whispered back.
"That's it."
Lips and tongues reunited in an instant as their faces crashed into one another. No more stalling. No more worries. No more hesitation.
It was time to finally feel good.

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Thanks for reading! This was a much more fun chapter to write! Additional author's note (and some commissioned art) can be found on AO3!