Mourning Star

And it was cool. Not so cold that you shivered against him but enough to chill your feet. He hissed as your bare toes pressed against his legs and clutched you tighter to his chest.

“I like it here,” you whisper to him and turn your chin to plant a quick kiss to his shoulder.

“It’s cold,” he mumbled before he kisses your hair.

With a grin tugging at your lips you rub your foot along his leg. “You can warm me up,” you flirt and he chuckles against your neck.

“Subtle,” he says before his hand slowly began to move up, skimming over her ribcage until his thumb rests against the underside of your breast.

You shift against the blanket you both lay on some 30 feet from the lake nestled just outside the tree line under the stars and you turn your head, your upper body turning just so and you watch as his half-lidded eyes seemed to darken. His tongue peeks out to run across his lips and you lean up to kiss his bearded chin.  

His thumb moves back and forth and the action makes you shiver. Taking the opportunity of your parted mouth he presses his mouth against yours, his tongue running along the inside of her upper lip. You make a soft sound that he catches and painfully slow his hand moves to cup you completely, his thumb finding your nipple and circling until it pebbles beneath his touch.

"Still cold?" he asks and he rubs his thumb over your nipple once more and you shudder.

“So cold,” you breathe and arch your chest against his hand. He chuckles.

Moving back to kiss you again, his hand gives a gentle but firm squeeze, his pointer finger joining his thumb, playing with you just the way you like.

Frank watches your face, his eyes dropping to your mouth and you want to speak but you can’t form the words.

You want more. And he knows you so well.

He throws you a quick smile and moves slowly, kissing your cheek, before kissing your jaw, moving down to press his lips against your neck, then your shoulder. Your breath comes quicker, your heart pounding in anticipation as his nose moves the half-open button-down shirt out of the way before kissing the top of your breast.  

You arch and his mouth moves lower placing a kiss to your nipple. You shudder as his tongue peeks out from his wet lips and touches you. You gasp, heat pooling in your belly and your thighs press together firmly.

“Still cold?” he rasps, his breath hitting pebbled flesh.

“Freezing.” your left hand comes up and latches onto his hair as his lips wrap around you, pulling your nipple into his mouth sucking gently as he runs his tongue around the peak.

A sound escapes you and you shake. A delicious heat spreads through you as you pull him closer. Wanting… needing to be as close as possible. He obliges and sucks harder. Your grip tightens. His hand slides from your stomach over the curve of your hip to your thigh where he rubs his thumb back and forth.

Tugging on Franks' hair he releases you and looks down at you with flushed cheeks and red lips before he kisses your shoulder and pushes you around once more to face away from him, your back pressed to his font. His beard tickles your neck as his lips touch your skin and you shiver against him.

“Frank,” you whisper and your hand grasps his against your thigh, holding him against you, his fingers clenching against your flannel shirt.

“Still cold, girl?” he whispers the question that’s not at all a question.

“Yes…” you stutter over the word as his other hand moves your hair over your shoulder and his lips find that spot right behind your ear.

His hand loosens and his fingers slid underneath your long shirt to push the cotton fabric above your hip before his hand slides forward and between your thighs.  You breathe hard as the pads of his fingertips play with the top of your panties for a moment before dipping into to caress the thatch of curls.

You tilt your head just enough to see his face and watch as his lips part, his dark eyes roaming over your face, taking all of you in.  

“So goddamn pretty like this,” he rasps before he dips his index finger between your folds and down finding your damp entrance. You shake as the very tip of his finger rests there before he slowly moves to trace your entrance. Your hips move to take him but he moves his hand back. 

“Sh, sh, sh,” he admonishes and your hand fists the scratchy blanket underneath you as his hand moves higher and continues to explore your folds until he hits home and your pelvis jerks.

His hand starts a pace that makes you gasp out and rut against his hand. When he gets a rhythm that takes your breath, your mouth opens on a pant his fingers move and his mouth attaches to your neck.

You moan embarrassingly loud and he grunts and moves his face to hover over yours from the side. You look at him as watch his tongue wet his lips again before his gaze moves back and forth from your face to the movement his hand makes under the thin blanket.  

“Warm yet?” his chest rumbles as he takes his thumb and forefinger and lightly pinches that small engorged spot that makes your hips jerk and your thighs tighten around his hand. “Seem pretty warm to me.”

“Fuck.”

You pant harder, your head moving to chase his lips but you gasp and arch against him as he applies more pressure to the bud trapped between his fingers and gently tugs.

Your hips move with his hand as he returns to rubbing different little patterns on and around your clit.

But you just...

“More…” you breathe a frustrated sigh as the heat seemed to keep building and never peeking as you stayed on the edge but never falling.

With a quick movement his hands leave you and he pulls your leg up and rests it over his hip You feel him push down his sweats and push your panties to the side before you feel him press against you.

“Please..” you breathe over your shoulder and search for his lips.

He grasps your hips and pulls your ass closer to him, sliding himself between your wet folds a few times before he pushes into you to the hilt.

“Goddamn…” he grunts, his forehead against your shoulder as you inhale sharply.

He moves slowly at first, his breath hitting the back of your neck as his right hand grips your thigh. You hear him grunt, feel him gulp as you push back against him and tighten your walls around him. He begins to move faster until all you can hear is the light crunch of leaves underneath your makeshift bed, the rough clap of his body against yours and the deep sounds that fall from his lips. You tilt your hips and your body shudders.

“Come on, girl,” he growls through clenched teeth. “Come on.”

He pounds into you in a deliciously fast pace that curls your toes and sends you gasping for breath.

“Fr-ank...”  You were so close. So close… You cry out under the stars as he hits a certain angle and scrapes his teeth across your shoulder.

Almost there...

Almost...

You try to speak but its too much. A tight spring coiled so tight that was ready to snap, his breathing came quicker, and he grew less controlled.

His hand suddenly left your thigh and you feel his fingertips rub furiously against you. 

“Cum for me,” he grunts and your hips jerk and you cry out.

Your body spasms as you are thrown off that precipice. Pleasure lances through your body as you pulse tightly and pant, you clench around him, little whimpers leave your wet lips as he thrusts once, twice, three more times before he curses and his hips stuttered against you, slowing immediately but still rutting ever so slowly he elicits torturous shocks of pleasure.

His grip loosens as he pants against the back of your neck, his hips moving just a touch every other breath. His hand still moves but it turns into a light petting until he stops all together but keeps his hand there, he pulls back and kisses you gently and lazily, every so often trailing his fingers through your folds making you gasp and jerk.

“Warm?” his voice is low and rumbles so deliciously around a deep chuckle that turns into a moan from you both as your still connected bodies react to the motion.

You tilt your head and give him a long slow kiss before he pulls away and rests his nose against yours.

It had been a normal morning. A sunny and warm Tuesday that had you wiping the sweat from your forehead as you stood in the front of your classroom half full of second graders. The kids were quiet today, quieter than they’d ever been and the uncomfortable heat. Suddenly the intercom cracked and gave a loud feedback whine before the principals old smoke affected voice spoke quickly over the speaker.

“We are dismissing early today. Bus riders head to the gym. Pick-ups head to the front entrance.”

Confused you put down your papers and helped the kids gather their backpacks before stepping into the hallway. You spot Mr. Al Thomas across the hall and he returned your confused look and shrugged his shoulders before ushering out another kid.

Once you escorted your 12 kids to the gym and then the front doors of the school you returned to your classroom to find Al looking at his phone. The elderly man pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turned to you.

“Principal White left. I have no idea what’s going on,” he frowned.

“Maybe he’s sick. I mean, they probably should have called out. Everyone is coming down with the flu,” you shrug your shoulders.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Al sounded doubtful but gave you a strained smile. “You going home?”

“Not yet. I’m gonna grade some papers,” you move and sit down behind your desk and pat the small stack of work the kids had completed.

Al gives you a genuine smile this time and nods his head. “All right, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you!” you call out as he disappeared out the door.

You graded papers and started printing off worksheets for the next day for twenty minutes or so and then start to flip the chairs up on each desk and straighten up the room. Grabbing your purse you blow a piece of hair out of your face and exit the classroom.

The custodian gives you a pleasant smile and a nod as you pass her down the long hall before you nod back and exit the building.

Though it is still so incredibly hot a slight breeze touches your skin and you sigh as you walk to your car across the lot. You pause a moment when over on the main road you see army vehicle after vehicle go down the street.  Shoving your hand in your purse you blindly search for your phone as you watch the procession and quick hit your husband’s contact.

Only for it to go straight to voicemail.

Cursing quietly you dropped the phone in your purse and quickened your pack to the car. Already palming your keys you slid the key in and turn only to spin around in fright when a loud screech and breaking glass shattered the relative quiet. You press a hand to your chest and gasp when you see a man attacking the school nurse, June, in front of the school.

“Hey!” you shout as loud as you can and take off running before you can even really think about it. Using your purse as a weapon you swing it hard at the man’s head and he goes tumbling over and all you can see is June clutching her upper arm, blood all over her.

“June! Oh my god!” You’re horrified at what you’d just witnessed and you help her up off the sidewalk.

“I- I don’t know what happened! He just came at me… he bit me!” June was hysterical as she backed away quickly from the man who let out a loud groan and started to stand.

You back up a step but ready your purse to swing again.

“Stay back, asshole!” you snap at the man as he stands and turns toward you and June.

You both stumble back in shock at the gaping wound across the man’s chest that should have been deadly and then to his face. Milky eyes and teeth that drip with gore, he staggers closer and you clutch June’s hand and take off running for your car. Skidding to a stop you look over your shoulder to see the man stumble forward at a slow pace and your breath quickens as you rip the keys out of the door where you’d left them and attempt to open the door. You fumble for a moment with your shaking hands but then June’s body lurches forward with a scream of pain as she falls into the door and you stumble back in shock as Principal White sinks his teeth into her neck from behind and rips out a chunk of flesh. June makes a noise and goes down. Principal White follows and begins tearing away at her exposed skin with his mouth.  With a scream, you run back a few feet until you turn and run as fast as you can toward the police station.

Shane. Shane. Shane.

You just need to get to him.

Your safe harbor.

A few cars pass you but don’t stop and when you pass Madison Street ten minutes later you bend double to catch your breath and try to ease the terror and shock that are waring within you. When your pulse calms somewhat and you can breathe without pain, you look around and promptly stumble to the grassy corner on the side of the road and vomited at the image of the bodies strewn about the residential block.  

What is happening?!?

You shake as you dry heave, your left hand clutched around the stop sign when you push away from the cold metal and sit back on your heels. Feeling a weight against your thigh, you realize your purse is still clutched in your grasp and you reach inside and pull out your phone.

“Shit!” you shout and throw the shattered phone to the ground after the screen refuses to respond.

You pressed a hand to your chest and try to stifle the tears that build painfully in the back of your throat and after a moment you gather your nerves, push yourself from the ground and take off at a sprint.

You just want to get to the station.

You just want to get to Shane.

He needs to be okay.

As you run all you can think of is the last time you saw him. A quick morning kiss with lips coated in crumbs of his morning toast. A devilish grin and a wink thrown your way as he buttoned up his shirt and an ‘I love you’ before he was out the door.

It was too quick.

You didn’t even know if he’d heard the ‘you too’ you’d mumbled in response.

You run and all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears as you hit the end of the road and take the familiar route.  A right on Sycamore and then left of Main. Pass the white house on the left and go straight until … you find yourself releasing a harsh breathe when you see it up ahead.

That little brick building that sat on a small incline seemed like the finish line for the race you’d been running and you pick up the pace down the road.

You cringe at the sound of glass breaking and more screaming as you pass a grocery store and suddenly jump back at the loud screech of tires that was way too close. You lunge to the right and wince when debris knocked into you and you go falling backward, rolling on the concrete.

When the world stopped spinning you cringe at the loud and continuous horn and cough around the thick smoke that started to emit billow from the hood of the car just two feet from you. Rolling on your side you cry out and sit up slowly.

“Shit, shit, shit…” you curse in pain.

There’s a long gash from your knee to the back of your ankle. You touch it gently, taking note that it’s not too deep but deep enough to be painful and to bleed quite a bit. Your grey skirt is filthy and torn, one shoe is missing and your white shirt is bloody. Your hand pats over your torso and chest but you feel no injuries and as you tilt your head down you realize why. The blood is pouring from your nose and down onto the shirt. Tilting your head back you shakily try to stand.

The Woman in the car jumps out, shoots you a panicked look and takes off running in the opposite direction.

Kicking off your other shoe you limp toward the brick building up the hill. Dread already building in your chest you take even breaths and continue on.

Please, be there. Please. Please. Please.

Wincing when the road ends and the gravel begins you walk even slower until you catch sight of movement and halt your journey. Your body sags and your face falls when you recognize the uniform and the face that is snarling at you.

Wayne.

The new recruit that Shane loved to pick on was scratching at the chain link fence, snapping his teeth at you.

Swallowing thickly you move on and walk to the parking lot, hurriedly looking for Shane’s cruiser or his truck.

Your shoulders fall and you lean forward and rest your forearms against the closest car.

“Where are you?” you ask no one as you pant for breath.

You sit down heavily on the yellow painted curb and put your head in your hands. You’re so tired, terrified and just so confused.

You have no idea what’s going on and no idea where Shane is. You momentarily think of him laying somewhere hurt or dead and immediately push away the thoughts roughly scrub your face free of tears before you slowly push yourself up and make your way to the only place you know where to go.

Home.

It’s a slow walk as your body is starting to feel each bump and bruise, your feet burning against the asphalt and your leg throbbing with each step.

Cars pass in a flurry of loud engines and panicked voices for the first few minutes until the road is mostly clear. A terrifying silence that you can only fill with a determined promise that Shane is home waiting for you. That he will be there.

Ten minutes into your journey home you hear a gunshot that stops you in your tracks. Two short screams and then another gunshot before it falls quiet again.

You start walking and after that, you don’t stop.

Your feet are numb now against the heated road and sweat is dripping down your back as your walk has slowed to almost a crawl. Everything hurts.

You hear another car racing down the road and pass you quickly.

Only hit their breaks and skid to a very loud stop.

Stopping where you are your steps halt and you fall to the asphalt your knees crashing painfully to the ground but you don’t care.

You know that truck.

You hear him shout your name before you even see him and you start to cry in relief.

He’s okay.

He’s alive.

You see him run toward you and hit his knees in front of you as he puts one hand on the small of your back and one hand on the back of your neck. His eyes run over your form and he breathes quickly wide-eyed and terrified.

“You weren’t home… we looked, you were gone… are you okay? Where are you hurt?” He spoke quickly, almost out of breath and you shake your head quickly.

“Just a scratch on the leg and a nose bleed. I look worse than I am…” you chuckle and lean forward to rest against him. His hands smooth over her messy hair and you shake. “What the fuck is going on?” you cry and his hold tightens before he pushes you back and uses the end of his shirt to clean the blood of your face.

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “Shit went sideways fast. Military shootin’ up the hospital….” he trailed off and smoothed his thumbs across your cheeks as he cradles your face. “The dead ain’t stayin’ dead.”

He spoke those last words almost on a whisper and you wrap your fingers around his wrists before he leans his forehead against yours.

“I couldn’t find you,” you explain and he shakes his head.

“We’re together now.”

He gave you a quick kiss on the corner of your mouth and he pulls you up until your standing and scoops you up bridal style and sprints to the car. Opening the back he slides you in.

“Carl, hop in the front for me bud, your mom’s gonna drive.”

“Is she okay?” you hear Lori ask worriedly.

“Fine,” you hear Shane mumble as he slides in next to you.

Raising a shaky hand you slid your fingers into his curls and pull his head down to rest next to yours. You just want to be near him. Breathe him in. You can’t force yourself to let him go.

“Goddamn, girl.” he breathes in your ear. “You scared the shit outta me.”

“Right back atcha’”

He chuckles and the breath tickles your neck until he pulls back and gently turns you around until your back is pressed against his chest, his chin atop your head. His arms go around you and you finally relax against him.

“What are we gonna do?” you ask quietly and send a small smile as Carl shoots you a scared look from the front seat.

Shane sighs and tightens his hold on you. “We’re goin’ to Atlanta,” he tells you.

“What’s in Atlanta?”

He’s quiet a moment before he responds. “Help.”

You feel his pounding heart against your back and close your eyes at the gentle reminder that he’s alive. You thread your dirty fingers with his and bring them to your lips in a small kiss as you look out the window just in time to see the passing sign.