Tameka's Smile by Zena Wynn Page B

trimmings, grabbed a glass of tea, and went into the living room to eat.
    Later, she was finishing the last of the flyers she’d created when she heard a vehicle in the driveway. She pulled the last of the still warm papers off of the printer and put them in a folder while waiting for the knock to sound at the door. When none was forthcoming, curiosity got the better of her and she went to the door.
    Chad was outside, still sitting in his cruiser. She stood in the doorway a few minutes waiting for him to notice her before realizing something was wrong. As hot as it was, he was sitting in the car with all the windows closed and the engine off.
    Concerned, she walked to the car and stood by his window. The moment she got a clear look at his face, her heart pounded an irregular beat and a feeling of dread grew in her stomach.
    “Chad?”
    He sat looking straight ahead, his fingers clenched on the steering wheel, face blank and eyes—what she could see of them—dead.
    She opened the car door. “Chad, baby, what’s wrong?” He turned to gaze at her and the bleakness in his expression tore her tender heart in two.
    “They’re dead. All of them. So young. So goddamn young.” He said nothing more, but those few words were enough.
    “Come in the house.” If he sat out here much longer, he’d have a heatstroke. Sweat was pouring down his body, mixing with some darker stains on his shirt that she tried not to examine closely.
    When he just sat there with the same forlorn expression on his face, she tugged on his arm until he passively allowed her to pull him out of the vehicle. She pulled him into the house, through the living room, straight into her bathroom. “You’ll feel better once you cool off.”
    He just stood there, in his own horrible little world, staring into space. Moved by compassion, she undressed him and then herself, turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature, maneuvered them both into the tub and closed the shower curtain.
    46

    ZENA WYNN
    Tenderly, she washed him from head-to-toe, growing more and more concerned at his zombie-like state. When they were both clean and dry, she pulled him into the bedroom and pushed him down onto the side of the bed. “I’ll be right back. Let me put your clothing in the washer.”
    She filled the washing machine with cold water, poured laundry detergent directly onto his clothes and more in the water, set it for heavy wash, and closed the lid. Those stains looked suspiciously like blood, but she didn’t really want to know.
    Back in the room, Chad was sitting right where she left him.
    She tucked the large, blue bath sheet around her body and made sure it was secure before straddling his lap. If ever a man needed a hug, this one did. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight, crooning nonsense in his ear.
    He was unresponsive at first. A few minutes passed before his arms slowly crept around her. He exhaled one harsh breath after another, then his arms tightened like a vise, crushing her to him. She could barely breathe, but that didn’t matter, not when Chad’s shoulders were shaking and his tears were scorching her shoulders.
    She rocked him back and forth, cradling his head against her neck while stroking his hair, shoulders and back. Anything that she could reach. So lost was she in his silent misery that she was caught totally unprepared when he flipped her onto her back on the bed.
    “I need…I have to…” he stuttered while ripping the towel off of her body. “Got to get closer,” he muttered.
    He gripped her by the shoulders and lifted her higher onto the bed. Tameka willingly opened her legs when he pressed a determined knee between them.
    “Help me forget,” he pleaded, his gaze desperate.
    Tameka reached between their bodies and grabbed his cock, bringing it to her opening.
    Chad whispered a fervent, “Thank you,” and then surged forward, joining them together. Once in place, he didn’t move.
    “Hold me,” he requested