Free In His Command by Rie Warren

waited.
    The door opened and I swung inside as if I owned the place. It was plush with furnishings, paintings, and mirrors. He even had fresh flowers, a vase of glossy white blooms unfurling on a stand next to me. I bent over to sniff the soft lemony scent, jumping back at Blondie’s admonishment. “You’re impatient.”
    “What? No servants?”
    He sent his tongue along his bottom lip. “Just me.”
    “Hmph.”
    “But c’mon in. You want a drink?”
    Damn southerners and their bullshit charm.
    “I wanna bug-out before this whole fricking place implodes.” I wouldn’t have minded a minute or two to turn the place upside down and find out all his secrets.
    “That right?”
    “Yep.”
    Then I did the dumbass thing and checked him out. He was in drab cammies accentuating his built body and dark blond hair, which slanted down to his chin. Blondie was armed with a good-looking Glock 5 on his right hip and a sheath showing a well-used knife grip. Dressed down and well armed, he sported my favorite look in a man.
    Turn it off, Cannon. End-of-world crisis, so cuff your crap and get your guard up.
    Blondie caught me lingering over his hair and holsters. “Weapons make you hot?”
    I grunted in approval, grabbed one of his knapsacks, and headed to the hallway.
    “Always did want a male escort.” He hefted the last two backpacks with no visible strain.
    That made me hot too.
    I gritted my teeth. “Bet you got enough Company scrip if that’s all you wanted. Be a much easier way to get laid than this head trip.”
    He came back with a quiet murmur that rocked me sideways. “What if I just want you?”
    My stomach lurched with something deeper than hunger and so long unsatisfied, a piercing pain and pleasurable rush collided inside me. I pounded down the stairwell ahead of him. “You’ve packed heavy.”
    “Well, I’m sure I’ll lose something along the way.” He winked.
    Cursing, I pushed outside and came to a complete stop. Apart from a few stragglers, the street was dead. “Where the hell is everyone?”
    “Tryin’ to get out.”
    A pair of wounded rebels rounded the corner, their wobbly walk turning into an all-out run in our direction. I dropped the bag and took out my gun. Only Blondie’s hand on my wrist stopped me from doing the deed this time.
    He waved something in their faces. His keycard. “Take it. Sell the stuff; eat the food—just get off the streets while y’all can.”
    Wary gray eyes narrowed in a soot-covered face. The man snatched the card and spat a filthy stream of juice toward Blondie’s face. They backed into the building, their eyes on us the entire time.
    While I wondered at his game, he wiped his face, stowed his shit, and made for the driver’s seat. “Gonna get in?”
    “Roger that.” I leaped across the hood. “But I’m not taking the passenger side.”
    My trigger ready to fire off, I jammed my hips against his until he hit the door.
    Blondie rotated his groin against mine. “You want to drive, I take it.”
    I put my hand next to his shoulder on the door frame, not touching, but real close. “Look, Blondie. I’m not asking you to bottom, just to fucking navigate.”
    His laughter tapped down to my belly and he slid inside, hopping his ass over the console to the passenger side. Maybe he was undercover. Maybe he was a fake. Maybe he was gonna be the cause of my death. Didn’t matter. For once a warm fire was lit inside me, all because I’d made him laugh.
    It took only a mile to erase all the happy I was feeling. A pack of bewildered civilians were being herded away from the gates, looking around with wide eyes and the confusion of children when their world dissolved. Because it had. With no solution to the water problem, the situation was gonna get even uglier. Sewage would back up, bacteria would breed, and illness would spread. The civilians could forget about plain old dying of thirst.
    As we approached the monstrous gates decked out with sniper towers and rows