Fight the Tide (3 page)

Adam’s cock throbbed, but he didn’t touch it. With his face buried in Parker’s ass, he went to work licking into him, careful to only tease with his fangs and not cut. Parker cried out, writhing and panting. Adam supposed it was their own form of edging—seeing how much of the animal he could let out without going too far.

“Oh, fuck yes. Feels so good. You feel so good.”

That it was
all
of him Parker felt—not just his human side—made Adam’s blood sing. He’d never dreamed of revealing himself to a lover, and certainly not during the act itself. But Parker wanted it; he came so hard when Adam let the wolf out. Adam had to breathe deeply and rein himself in so he didn’t leave cuts on Parker’s hips.

He stabbed in with his tongue, which grew rougher and slightly longer when he transformed. He held Parker’s ass open and fucked him as Parker begged for it.

“Yes, yes. Like that. Right there—fuck! Adam!”

Parker shouted and came, jerking as he shot over the sheets without his dick being touched. It filled Adam with a primal pride that sent heat through him. He sat back on his heels to stroke himself, coming on Parker’s flushed ass and wet hole after only several tugs.

Parker pushed up on his hand to watch over his shoulder, his chest heaving. They collapsed together in a tangle on their sides, kissing roughly as Adam’s fangs and claws retreated, his werewolf features fading away. Parker took Adam’s hand, uncurling his fingers. Adam hadn’t even realized he’d cut his own palm with his claws when he’d jerked himself off.

The wounds were already shrinking, leaving tiny smears of blood behind that Parker ran his fingertip through so gently. He pressed a kiss to Adam’s palm before burrowing into his arms, his breath damp and comforting. Adam nuzzled Parker’s growing hair. The boat’s previous owner had left an electric razor, but they hadn’t bothered trimming anything yet.

The boat’s previous owner.
As if it had simply been sold.

Despite himself, Adam thought of the framed pictures they’d tucked away carefully in a drawer in the spare cabin. His name was Richard Foxe, they knew that much. He’d had a husband or partner, whose name they didn’t know since it hadn’t been on any of the paperwork or permits stashed near the radar console.

But the husband was in the framed pictures. They assumed Richard was the older man, with gray creeping back from his temples. His husband was a good ten years his junior, his smile almost blinding as he held up an enormous fish.

Adam had considered unscrewing the picture frame to see if there was anything written on the back of the snapshot, but in the end had just put the photos out of sight. Richard and his husband would never sail the vessel again, even if they were somehow still alive. Still, it’d felt wrong to erase them completely.

Parker’s hot whisper was muffled against Adam’s neck. “They cut into you.”

Shutting away his thoughts of the
Bella Luna
’s ghosts, Adam frowned. “Hmm?”

“They
hurt
you. At the Pines. I couldn’t stop them. I know you were knocked out for most of it, and you heal, but…I don’t.” He shuddered, his voice scraping out. “I remember. I remember it all.”

Holding Parker too tightly as if it could erase his memories of pain, Adam kissed his head. “I’m sorry. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“I can’t deal with that happening again.” He shivered in Adam’s arms despite their sweat-slick skin in the warming cabin. “We can’t trust anyone. We can’t go to that island.”

Adam relaxed his grip and smoothed his palms over Parker’s body until they breathed in a slow unison. “It’s okay. We won’t.”

He pushed away the echo of the woman’s bedtime-story voice and listened intently to their surroundings, his eyes closed. No other heartbeats reached his ears. They’d anchored in sight of land, but if anyone had spotted them bobbing on the tide, they kept their distance.

He and Parker should have gone up and caught some fish while they were biting, but the world was out there, and it could wait.

“H
ello? Sending a
warning to anyone listening.”

As the man’s voice rang out over the emergency channel, Parker’s heart skipped. He finished tightening the sail sheet and returned to the radio by the metal wheel, the wooden deck warm under his bare feet. Adam perched by the bow with his little digital camera, and he looked over, waiting.

The man spoke again. “Warning to avoid Hilton Head. It’s infested. Barely made it off.”

Shit.
Parker had hoped islands would be able to stay uninfected. They needed to do a supply run soon. Would have to do their best to avoid creepers in the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

Picking up the transmitter, he pushed up his sunglasses on his nose with his other hand. He couldn’t resist asking, even though it was pointless. “Thanks for the four-one-one. Have you heard any news from England?”

The man’s voice crackled over the radio. “Heard they were hit bad. Any sign of the military where you are?”

Parker and Adam shared a look. “No,” Parker answered honestly. “No sign.” He hesitated to give any hints of their position, but they were far enough away. “Naval base in Virginia is toast.”

The guy on the radio sighed. “I figured. Keep hoping someone’s going to come and…I don’t know. Fix this shit.”

“You and me both, man.”

“Heard those terrorist assholes made sure they infected the capitals and military bases. CDC in Atlanta. So the rest of us are left with our dicks in our hands.”

“Truth. Stay safe.”

“You too.”

The radio hissed into silence. Better not to talk and give too much away to any stranger that might be listening, but it was still good to hear another voice. Especially one that wasn’t trying to sell a load of horseshit about a magical safe place.

He knew there were still good people out there, but when he closed his eyes, he saw the jars in that makeshift lab—blood and chunks of Adam’s flesh, Dr. Yamaguchi marveling at how quickly Adam healed. Adam so pale and still. Helpless. What if other people found out he was a werewolf and wanted to make him their lab rat too? For all his strength and speed and advantages, Adam wasn’t immortal. Parker had to protect him.

A little conversation on the radio was fine, but it couldn’t go further. It was asking for trouble, and they had fuck-loads of that already. If they went for the Caribbean, he knew they couldn’t avoid people forever, but they’d cross that bridge later. And maybe if Eric…

He shook his head. No point in fantasizing about seeing his brother again. For now, he and Adam were safest on their own.

The voice returned. “Hey, you still there? Did you hear those messages earlier? Went out on a bunch of channels. Salvation Island?”

Parker gripped the transmitter. “Yeah. Sounds a little too good to be true if you ask me.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Maybe it’s those Zechariah bastards trying to wipe out the rest of us.”

Giving Adam a meaningful look, Parker agreed, “Could be.”

“Well, hang in there. Over and out.”

He returned the transmitter to its perch. The auto-scan was disabled for the moment since he didn’t want to deal with the look Adam got on his face when Salvation Island sent its BS messages.

Parker watched the fabric telltales fluttering on the mast. The wind was changing direction, and he prepared to angle the bow. “Tacking! Watch the boom.” A spray of seawater flecked his sunglasses.

Adam looked up from the camera and shifted back even though he was already beyond the boom’s reach. As Parker turned the bow, the horizontal pole attached to the bottom of the mainsail swung across the boat. Like the mast, it was made of carbon and was lighter than traditional booms, but could still pack a hell of a punch if it nailed you.

“Do you need any help?” Adam called.

“Nah. Got the wind aft quarter now. We’re good.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

Parker laughed, some of the tension in his gut ebbing. “Wind is to our back and side. A broad reach. Feel how we’re going faster now?”

“Uh-huh. We need to think about supplies.”

“I know. We’ll be to the Outer Banks tomorrow. We can evaluate.”

Adam nodded. “Anything else I can do in the meantime?”

“Just look pretty.” Through his sunglasses, Parker winked, knowing that even from the bow, Adam would see it.

With his camera in the pocket of his cargo shorts, Adam stretched his arms over his head, showing off his bare chest. With a flick of his ridiculously glossy black hair, he leaned back on his elbows and let his legs splay a little wider.

“Baby, you are so good at looking pretty,” Parker murmured.

Adam’s shoulders shook, and he couldn’t hide his smile. The temptation to abandon his post to go lick Adam all over was strong, but they were catching the wind perfectly and Parker had to keep watch. His father’s voice filled his mind.

“A good captain is always watching.”

Of course he’d often say that to justify all the paperwork he brought home, and Mom would roll her eyes and mutter,
“Aye-aye.”
But when it came to sailing, he was right.

Parker checked the telltales, fluttering in the wind just as he wanted them to, and his gaze returned to Adam, still spread out in the sun. He wondered what his parents would have thought of his boyfriend.
They’d probably be surprised I could bag such a hottie.
Of course if not for the creeper apocalypse, he surely never would have.

Despite the sun beaming down from a cloudless sky, Parker shivered. He shouldn’t be glad in any way that so many people were dead or infected. He shouldn’t be glad for any of it. Yet the thought of not being with Adam made the bottom of his stomach drop, and he couldn’t deny that the changed world had brought him something so incredibly amazing.

“Okay?”

Blinking, Parker realized Adam had lifted his head and was frowning at him across the
Bella Luna
’s deck. “Yeah. Just thinking. You know how I get.” He breathed in even, deliberate inhalations and exhalations to calm his heart. “It’s fine. Go back to work. That’s it—arch your back. Mmm, perfect.”

Adam smiled, and Parker turned his attention back to the sails. Still, thoughts of his parents ricocheted through his mind. He knew they were dead. It was extremely unlikely they survived the destruction of Boston. They’d been heading for the Cape house, but had never made it. Judging by the carnage and cars blocking the highway, hardly anyone had.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he thought of the creepers hovering around the lighthouse in Chatham. His parents could have been part of that frenzied herd, with bulging eyes and grasping fingers like talons, blood staining their wordless mouths.

“Hey.” Adam had crossed the deck, and he wrapped his arm around Parker’s waist at the wheel.

Eyes still closed, Parker leaned into him. “I’m okay. I know, I shouldn’t think.”

“Is it Eric?”

“Partly.” Sighing, he straightened up and eyed the billowed sails. He loved the way Adam stroked his hip with his big hand. He kissed Adam’s shoulder. “My parents too. I know they’re dead, but then I wonder… But I can’t. I’ll drive myself crazy. They’re gone, but Eric could still be out there.”

“He very well could.”

“He could still be in that bunker. They could live down there for years, right? Maybe this virus will die out.” Parker snorted. “That’s stupid, huh? Because viruses often die out on their own. Yeah, that’s the direct opposite of how they work. I did actually ace bio and chem in high school, for the record.”

“No C-minuses?”

Laughter warmed Parker from the inside out. “Not until you, Mr. I Expect Students to Actually Do Their Work Even on Electives.”

“It was very demanding of me, I know.”

They kissed softly, tongues caressing without heat.

Parker pulled back gently, glancing at the sails and checking the wind. “I just… I hate to think that my family’s totally gone, you know?”
Fucking DUH.
“I’m sorry. Of course you know.” Changing his grip on the wheel to his left hand, Parker snaked his other arm around Adam’s back. He was Adam’s family now, but was he enough?

“If Eric’s alive, we’ll do everything we can to find him. And hey, maybe there will be a cure. Our old pal Dr. Yamaguchi might pull it off.”

They shared a sardonic smile, and Parker said, “Maybe. At least you’re immune. I guess the werewolves will inherit the earth.”

Shadows crossed Adam’s face, his hazel-gold eyes unmistakably sad. “Doesn’t seem like there will be many of us.”

Parker had to grip the wheel with both hands as the wind gusted. He nudged Adam playfully with his hip, making his tone light. “You’re sure there are no vampires or yetis out there? Abominable snowmen?”

A smile lifted Adam’s lips. “Pretty sure. Although we’d better watch out for sirens luring us onto the rocks.”

The radio hissed, and the same woman from that morning spoke again. “This is a message from Salvation Island.”

“Speak of the fucking devil,” Parker grumbled, flipping the volume completely off.

“Maybe we should hear what she has to say.” Adam reached for the knob.

“Wind’s changing. We’ve got to head up. Remember how I taught you to trim the sails in tighter? Can you go do it?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Adam complied, and Parker pushed everything but the wind, the sails, and the wide-open sea from his mind.

*