Page 64 of The Dead Don't Talk
“We don’t have to.”
My dick is filling regardless of my words, and he spins away from me with his exhaustion evident in his turned-in shoulders.He’s quick to strip himself, flashing me his tight ass as he climbs beneath the covers.
When he lifts them in invitation, I follow.
“I asked the apothecary how to make lube.”
Snorting, I settle on my side and tuck some of his curls behind his ear.
“Aloe and oils.”
His smile is soft, his body softer as he scoots close enough that his chest touches mine.
“Funny enough, they told me to ask you.”
Those lithe fingers of his dance across my chest, twirling my hair around the tips as he goes.
I used to hate it. But it’s hard to hate something my baby seems to like.
“Show me how to make a cherry flavor? For Moros.”
My grin grows. “He’ll love that.”
The air between us thickens at his mention and I clear my throat.
“That man he hurt … it was his dad, Amo.” The gasp of recognition and shock makes my stomach tighten but I continue—I promised him I would. “He’d trained Moros and me when we first got here. He’s an asshole but he was good at what he did. It madeusgood.”
Swallowing back the emotions, I force myself to focus on the heartbeat next to mine. The softness of his skin. The way it prickles at my touch.
“Moros was in a frenzy. Something I was all too familiar with when we’d found this place that his dad was building up. There were too many people. Too many suspicions about his status. So, I locked us in a room just like this one.
“He chased me. Fucked me. Ate anything I sat in front of him.
“We’d been out there, on our own for so long. Scavenging and hunting and barely surviving. I didn’t wanna ruin it so soon.”
Amo’s tear-filled eyes meet mine in the dark and my stomach grows even tighter.
“What happened?”
“His dad found us. Walked right in on Moros mounting me like the animal he was.”
I swallow hard past the lump building in my throat and I pull Amo closer.
“Then what?” he asks quietly.
“He turned without a word, leaving Moros and me alone. I thought he’d let it go. Everything had gone on as normal. As if he’d never seen his son fucking another man. As if his son wasn’t born infected like the ones he was—” a wave of anger takes over me and I roll to my back. “He turned away the infected, Amo. Even if they hadn’t yet turned. And I knew that. We both did.
“Once the storm passed and the frenzy was long gone, Michael kept training us. Joking and laughing all the while and still, I could see the things in his eyes. The knowing in his demeanor.
“The next storm was approaching. I’d learned to smell it coming—the heady scent of iron thicker than normal—but we had time. And a job to do.
“Michael escorted Moros and me out to the Outskirts, instructing us to make quick work of the horde moving in. The rain was close, but I knew we needed to protect the people. If anyone could mow down a mob of decomposed, it was us.”
Amo’s sniffle makes my chest ache, but I continue. Now that I’ve started spilling our past, now that I know I want Amo in my future—ourfuture—he needs to know where we come from. Even if it hurts.
“And we did.” My smile is bitter. “Moros and me, we did it.
“Then the rain came. Clear at first. But that didn’t stop Michael from leaving us behind.”
