The Queen Of Zombie Hearts. Gena Showalter

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Название The Queen Of Zombie Hearts
Автор произведения Gena Showalter
Жанр Детская проза
Серия
Издательство Детская проза
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472055132



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eyes met for the first time during any given day, we had a vision of our future. We’d caught a glimpse of each other earlier this morning, saving us the hassle now.

      I was glad.

      What we’d seen... I hadn’t let myself think about it, too afraid I’d break down. Cole, leaning against a tree, crimson streaking his face and chest, soaking his hands, his expression a mix of unequaled pain and immeasurable grief as I walked away from him.

      Walked. Away.

      There was no reason good enough for that.

      How badly was he injured? When would the vision come true? In a few days? Weeks? Months? There had never been any sort of time limit. The only guarantee was that it would happen. We’d never managed to stop one.

      Red alert! Red alert! Impending emotional breakdown.

      I shoved the worry into the mental box, stretching the sides. It was a fight, but I managed to lock the lid.

      Better. For now.

      “You can look at me,” he said. “I won’t bite...very hard.”

      My gaze moved up, up and linked with his, and suddenly I was trapped by a yearning that had plagued me since the first moment we’d met. For him...for this...for more.

      A slow grin lifted the corners of his wicked mouth.

      Dude. While Gavin was pretty, Cole was pure, rugged sex appeal. He should totally come with a warning. Possible panty melting. Moonlight spilled over him, illuminating him, and for a few seconds, I thought I heard angels singing. His black hair stood out in adorable spikes, as if he’d plowed his hands through the strands one too many times. Eager to see me, perhaps? His gorgeous violet eyes were framed by lashes so thick and black, he always looked like he’d applied eyeliner.

      As for the rest of him...

      Good glory! I knew the physique hidden by his clothing. Skin bronzed to perfection. Muscles honed to perfection. A perfect chest covered by the most perfect tattoos. One of his nipples was pierced—meow!—and it was, you guessed it, perfect.

      His knuckles feathered over my cheek, the slight touch electrifying me. “I missed you.”

      Shivering, I said, “How much?”

      “Why? Do you think you missed me more?”

      “Sure of it.”

      “I will happily prove you wrong. After I see my surprise.”

      “Get ready for pure awesomeness.” I lifted my hair and pivoted, revealing my neck.

      Silence descended.

      I frowned, suddenly nervous. What if he didn’t like it? Ink was permanent.

      “Ali.” His voice, so husky and deep, was temptation and silk, stroking over me. “Did I ever tell you all the reasons I love you?”

      “No.” I licked my lips and shook my head, gathering the courage to face him. His eyes were heavy-lidded, smoldering.

      He liked the tattoo.

      “Tell me now,” I commanded softly.

      “I’ll tell you the top ten. One,” he said and kissed my forehead. “You are brutally honest. It’s such a rare and precious trait.”

      Major points for my man: he’d led with personality rather than appearance.

      “Two.” He kissed my eye. “You have the perfect sense of humor...perfect for me. It’s a little warped, and a lot twisted, and you can make me laugh when no one else can.”

      I almost melted. Almost. I had to hear the rest. “Go on or I’ll hurt you.” Had I sounded as breathless to him as I had to myself?

      He chuckled. “Three.” He kissed my other eye, gentle, so gentle. “You’re smart. I want to see your brain naked.”

      Ha!

      “Four. You are freaking hot.”

      “Obviously.” And okay, yeah, he got points for that, too. Maybe because I so very rarely felt hot. Or maybe because I so desperately wanted another kiss. A harder one. On my lips. With tongue and teeth. And roaming hands. Or maybe because I wanted him to want all of me.

      “Five.” He kissed my cheek, and I moaned. More. “You are unbelievably kind.” He kissed my other cheek. “Six. You love with your whole heart, nothing held back.”

      “Come on. Kiss me for real.” Did he want me to beg? Because I would...after I made him beg a little, too.

      “Seven.” He pressed his lips against one side of my jaw, skipping my lips, dang him. “You are such a good fighter, I could stand back and watch you do all the hard work, and I wouldn’t feel like a wuss. I’d feel like a genius.”

      “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

      “Eight.” He kissed his way to the other side of my jaw. “The way you sometimes look at me... It’s as if I’m the sweetest dessert in the bakery and you are desperate for a bite.”

      Yes, yes. A big, delicious bite. “At one time,” I said, the huskiness of my tone surprising me. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “That look of mine scared you.” With good reason. I’d been loaded with zombie toxin and had literally wanted to eat him. Well, not me but my zombie twin. Z.A.

      “Nine,” he went on and nibbled on my ear. “You’re like the world’s most perfect drug. One hundred percent pure, guaranteed to addict after the first taste. I can’t imagine my life without you in it—don’t want to.”

      My skin tingled, and my blood flashed white-hot. “Cole,” I said on another moan. I tangled my hands in his hair, angled his head, trying to take over. “Please. Stop talking, and start acting.”

      “Ten,” he said and finally—blessedly—pressed his lips against mine. Only it was soft, far too soft. “You would die for me, the same way I would die for you.”

      “Yes, yes, I would.” I waited for hard.

      He didn’t give it to me. His face hovered directly over mine as he...deliberated his next move?

      Happy to help with that. “Take off your shirt,” I commanded, already pulling at the material. “Now.”

      He gave me a quick smile. “Impatient?”

      “Feral. And don’t you dare complain. You’re to blame.”

      “Complain? I’d rather celebrate.” He plucked his shirt from my hands. “Take off your coat.”

      I was only surprised it hadn’t already burned off me. I was that hot for him.

      As he jerked the cotton over his head, I yanked at my coat and sweater, leaving on the tank, jeans and boots...for now. My gaze, controlled by a force greater than myself, traveled all over him—gold star for this one, God—before settling on his chest. He’d tattooed my name in bold, black letters that stretched from one nipple to the other.

      Breathing him in...mmm, soap and strawberries...I traced the design with shaky fingers.

      He gave a little moan. “Before we start, Ali-gator, I’ve got to warn you.”

      “Before we start?”

      He fisted a handful of my hair, careful of my sore nape, and tugged me against him. Male strength against feminine softness. His gaze was fierce, unwavering. “I’m not going all the way with you.”

      The heat in my blood instantly cooled. “But why?” Right after my brush with death, he’d been ready. More than ready.

      And I had been, too. Still was. I’d accepted that sex was something I could never take back, that it would change the course of our relationship...and me. While I wasn’t a big fan of change, this was Cole. My Cole. I’d deal.

      “After your grandmother