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Cole enters, frowning, though I can’t say I’ve seen him smile often, or even looking neutral. Dark and stormy is his M.O., which he pulls off well.
If someone had told me a year ago that I’d think that way about a man twice my age, I’d laugh in their face. I was all about Chris Hemsworth and the members of BTS. Anyone that looked over thirty was ancient, and if they’d dared cast me lustful eyes, I’d have called them a pervert.
And, admittedly, Cole is a pervert. He’s dirty, to his core, and he knows what he’s doing.
Gunther and his crew used me, and while it wasn’t always horrible, it was never pleasurable.
Glenn, the boy I’d made Seth with, was just as clueless as I was. It’s shocking he was able to get me pregnant, he was so inept. We laughed about it afterward. Or we did until the pregnancy test showed a plus sign. Then he never spoke to me again except to sign away all rights to Seth.
I wonder if he’s dead now.
Cole pulls up a chair and sits down in front of me. I see he has a steaming bowl in his hand and my stomach growls at the prospect of food.
“I don’t suppose you’re up for talking, are you?”
I’d rather starve than put my son in danger, so I look away.
“Open up,” Cole says, bringing the spoon to my mouth.
Relieved, I accept the bite and am pleased when he continues feeding me.
“I don’t know why you’re so stubborn,” he says. “I’d like to believe we’re a decent alternative to the hillbilly scumbags you’re so fond of.”
I don’t correct him and let him know that I, too, think Gunther and his men are hillbilly scumbags. There’s no point.
“You know what I have to offer. Food, safety, security. Relief for the raging torment between your thighs.”
“You’re offering to be my Keeper?” I ask, amused. “The one who ‘keeps’ me?”
He frowns. “No, but there are about a dozen men that would line up to claim you, and I’d let you have your pick.”
Interesting.
“Why not you?”
His eyes darken, and I can tell I’ve hit upon a sore spot. And suddenly, things start to make sense.
As I’d previously guessed, he hasn’t claimed anyone, and my tormenting him must have pushed him over the edge. What I hadn’t realized previously, however, is that he’s tormented by guilt.
Somehow, I tempted him into doing things that, for whatever reason, he was against.
The thought makes me smile, which makes his scowl deepen.
“You think I’d claim you after all the headaches you’ve given me?”
“Okay, I get it. I’m good enough to fuck, but not for much else.” I accept another bite.
“If you’d change your goddamn attitude, you’d be plenty claimable.”
“Are you saying that if I give you the information you want, you’ll claim me and make me yours in the ways of your people?”
His mouth opens ever so slightly, but nothing comes out.
You’d think that with most of the population dead, he wouldn’t turn his nose up at a woman, but he’s determined to be alone and miserable.
“How long do you think you’ll be able to hold out before you fuck me again?” I tease, determined to throw him off, because the more unsettled he is, the more likely he is to fuck me, and the more likely he is to fuck me, the most likely he is to be sloppy.
And there is nothing more sloppy than a well sated, well fucked man.
