Bountiful

by Sarina Bowen

  Pulled off kilter, she tumbled back toward the seat. Her head and neck got caught on the car’s roof, and there was a sickening split-second when I wasn’t sure if I’d done it.

  But then all of Zara came crashing into my arms. Her shriek was deafening as a pickup truck barreled alongside the car, snapping off Zara’s open passenger-side door as it zoomed by.

  I heard the sound of skidding tires as the driver tried to stop and then a sickening crunch as the back corner of the truck’s bed swung into a telephone pole.

  The truck finally stopped. But a moment later it leapt forward again, fishtailing in the gravel, then accelerating away.

  “He…!” Zara said. Another beat went by. She wriggled free of me, mouth open, one hand at her jaw. A big red mark was forming where it had hit the door frame as I’d yanked her back inside. “I…” She tried again to speak. But then she gazed outside again, trying to make sense of the gaping hole where her car door had been.

  All I could see now was the mark on her jaw. And I realized I was still clenching one of her hands in a death grip. I made myself let go, and raised my hands to gently cup her head. “Are you—”

  “Yeah, it’s just—”

  “Is your…” I brushed a thumb across her jaw as gently as I could.

  “You… You really—”

  “Shh,” I said, pulling her to me again, even though the gear shift was in the way. She started to shake. Or maybe we both did. I could feel her heart fluttering against mine, like a little bird’s.

  Some amount of time passed. I spent it trying not to think about the glow of the headlights on Zara’s hair as the truck had accelerated toward her.

  I became aware that nearby voices were raised in excitement. “What the hell happened?”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “Zara? Holy shit.”

  She pulled away from me to look up at her brother Benito. “I’m okay.”

  “The door of your car is gone. It’s, like, fifty fucking yards away.”

  Nausea rolled through me as I pictured Zara standing against that door a few seconds before the truck hit it. “Someone call the police,” I said, my tongue thick.

  “They’re on the way,” Benito said.

  During the next few minutes I worked out that Benito was managing the bar that night. Someone else who’d seen the speeding truck had gone in to fetch him.

  My brain remained a little fuzzy. Shock would do that. I got out of the car and stood there, holding Zara’s hand, leaning against the wrecked side of the car, waiting for the police, and just trying to hold my psyche in check.

  Eventually the cops came. They let Zara speak first. “I didn’t see the driver. I barely saw the truck. I didn’t even know why Dave yanked me back into the car until I heard the truck crack off the door.”

  There was talk of calling the paramedics, but Zara waved them off. “I need to get upstairs.”

  At some point they let her go on up.

  Watching Zara walk away splintered something inside me. There was a baby upstairs in her crib who’d almost lost her mother tonight. I felt sick every time I pictured those few seconds. It was a miracle she hadn’t been hit. Hell, even if she’d left one leg outside of the car…

  I shuddered again. “Sorry, what was the question?” I asked the cop who was trying to talk to me.

  “What color was the truck?”

  “Uh. Dark. Black, or at least dark gray.”

  “Model? Any idea?”

  “Well…” I hadn’t gotten a good look. “A really ordinary pickup. Maybe an F-150. Not fancy.”

  “We have cameras on this parking lot, Johnny,” Benito offered. “I set ’em up myself.”

  “Yeah? That was gonna be my next question. Can we go see ’em?” the cop asked.

  “Follow me,” Benito said.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Zara

  “What happened?” my mother demanded the moment I stepped into the apartment.

  “Everything is fine,” I said in a shaky voice. “There was a truck. Drunk driver, maybe. He didn’t hit anyone.” Because Dave pulled me out of the way, first. I didn’t go into detail because I didn’t want to scare her.

  “Why are the cops here?”

  “Slow crime night in Vermont?” Sass was so ingrained in my personality that I could snark even when numb. And I was numb. My hands were cold and my knees felt unsteady. Not in a good way, either. “Go on home, Mom. Thanks for putting her to bed.”

  “Four picture books,” she said with a smile. “She didn’t want to go to sleep. Did she have a late nap?”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled. Dave had told me. But I could swear that conversation happened a week ago, not just a few hours ago.

  “Get some sleep.” She patted my cheek. “You’re going to need it to make it through the next ten days.”

  “I know. Thanks again,” I said by rote. “See you in the morning.”

  She left, but I didn’t go to sleep. I spent some time staring out the window, watching the cops talk to Dave and then to my brother Benito. Then all the men disappeared from my view, possibly inside the bar. I stood there at the window for a minute longer waiting for them to reappear again.

  They didn’t.

  I was still wound up. I toed off my shoes and tiptoed into Nicole’s room to check on her. She’d kicked away her cotton blanket, so I pulled it up. She’d probably kick it off again the moment I left. It was midsummer, and the only one who was cold was me.

  I stood there a long time, just watching the rise and fall of her little chest. What would Nicole’s life be like if I were run down by a truck?

  It was enough to give me another round of chills.

  As I watched her sleep, I tried not to hear the terrible crack of the car door wrenching off, right after Dave’s arms had yanked me violently into the car. My jaw ached just at the base of my skull where I’d gotten hung up on the door frame. Tomorrow I knew my neck would be stiff, too.

  Whatever. I was still here. That’s all that mattered.

  So why was I still shaking?

  The door buzzer sounded, startling me.

  Not wanting the baby to wake, I scurried out of her room, eased the door shut, and then ran to press the lock button. I heard footsteps climbing the stairs at a rapid clip. I opened the door and there Dave stood, his expression intense.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. He pushed inside the apartment and pulled me to his chest.

  Strong arms locked around me. The door thunked closed.

  My nose met the V of skin where his top button was undone. I took a deep, steadying breath of him. He was warm and solid and I exhaled with shameless gratitude. The shaking didn’t stop, though. It actually got worse for a second, as if my subconscious allowed itself to come fully unhinged in the safety of his arms.

  He made a noise of distress, deep in his throat, and held me even more tightly. He kissed the top of my head. Then he did it again. Big hands smoothed their way down my arms, bringing much-needed warmth to my chilly limbs. “Are you okay?” he whispered gently. His hands swept up my back, until one wide palm cupped the back of my neck. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

  I shook my head, but then his fingers skimmed my bruised neck and I flinched.

  Dave tilted my head to see what had probably become a bruise. He made a hissing sound, and his fingers became more gentle as he probed the area. “Are you sure we shouldn’t get you checked out?”

  “No need,” I choked out. I wasn’t really injured. Just terrified.

  His thumb traced my roughened skin. Then he bent down and placed his mouth over the hurt spot. I whimpered as soft lips comforted that spot. Unbidden, my hands dug into his shirt. And I turned my head a fraction of a degree to give him better access.

  He let out a sound that was half groan, half growl, and I felt it everywhere. I turned my face again, this time to find his mouth with mine. And we came together in a way that felt completely inevitable, our lips sealing toget
her just right on the first try. “Oh,” I breathed against his mouth, parting my lips. And then his tongue stroked against mine. He tasted like man and warmth and everything I’d ever needed.

  Yes. This. Finally.

  I rose to my toes and wrapped my arms around him, leaning into all that solid weight. My poor, terrified heart had a better reason to race now. It was impossible to fear for my life when I was kissing the most intoxicating man who’d ever walked into it.

  And he didn’t miss a beat, folding me closer to his body, those strong hands dipping down to my ass, yanking me against him. His kiss was fierce and desperate. Seconds later, he turned us around, pressing my back against the door. He cupped my chin in one hand and held it there, kissing me with great focus and fire, while his other hand wandered my curves, cupping my breast, slipping down over my hip.

  All the restraint I’d shown these past few weeks flew right out the window. Gone. I undid the top button of his shirt before abandoning that tedious work to caress his stomach instead. He groaned and I moaned and everything was a heated blur.

  He lifted my dress.

  I tugged at his belt.

  His mouth found my throat.

  My fingers fumbled to unzip his fly. And then his cock lay in my hand, hard and heavy.

  “Fuck,” he cursed. Then I heard a tearing sound—stitches giving way. A second later my panties fell off, and thick fingers forked between my legs, finding slickness. Yes. I bore down on that sweet friction and whimpered as my body lit up everywhere.

  He took my mouth in another hard kiss.

  Artlessly, I hooked a leg around his hip. He tugged on the fabric of my dress, lifting it further. Then finally he lifted me off the ground by my hips.

  Oh, yes please.

  My legs closed around him as my back connected with the door again. I panted into his mouth as we struggled to align ourselves for what we both needed. But it wasn’t easy. Desperation and coordination didn’t always go together.

  They had earlier tonight, though, when Dave had yanked me into the car right before that truck could—

  I shuddered in his arms.

  “Hey, I got you,” he ground out.

  And he did. The blunt tip of his cock found me and the breach was swift and shocking. “Ah!” I cried out as he filled me completely. I was impaled on him, pinned against the door, heart thudding.

  We were nose to nose. Everything stopped for a moment, except for my racing pulse and our heavy breathing.

  Clear eyes blinked into mine. “Zara,” he breathed. “Sweetheart.”

  I closed my eyes and lunged into a kiss. I levered my shoulder blades against the door and thrust my hips. Move, my body said to his. Fuck me.

  With a groan, he did. Bracing me against the wall, he set a hungry pace. I wrapped myself as tightly around him as I could and took it. There was no room to maneuver, and I didn’t care. I just held on and let him bounce me on his cock. It was wild and ugly and beautiful and exactly what I needed.

  We consumed each other, and I forgot to be afraid.

  It was fast and crazy, and his groans let me know that it wouldn’t last forever. Every thrust was more feverish than the last, and his desperation was contagious. I felt it building, and I opened my eyes so I wouldn’t miss a thing. His rugged jaw tightened, then he looked right into my soul. His hands dug into the flesh of my ass, and he groaned again.

  My body answered him. The first clench of my climax made me gasp. He covered my mouth with his own and then shuddered, planting himself deeply one more time.

  I felt his cock pulse inside me, and it turned my limbs into liquid, helpless things.

  Dave made a deeply satisfied sound just before I buried my face in his neck and burst into tears.

  * * *

  Dave

  Zara was crying and shaking and clearly we’d both lost our minds.

  I eased her to her feet and disconnected us. “Hey, now,” I whispered. “You’re all right.” But I don’t know which of us I was trying to convince.

  After hastily tucking myself back into my unzipped pants, I scooped Zara up into my arms. Then I carried her farther into the apartment, finding her darkened bedroom and setting her on the bed.

  She buried her face in her hands and tried to sob more quietly. Her dress was hanging off her shoulder, so I unzipped the back of it and eased it off her body. Then I pulled down the quilt and nudged her to get into bed.

  “I’m…okay,” she gasped.

  “I know,” I said soothingly. I was ninety-nine percent sure she wasn’t upset with me, but rather with the scare she’d had. And then ninety-nine became a hundred when I kicked off my pants and shoes and lay down beside her. She pulled me into her arms and then buried her face in my shirt collar.

  Having no better ideas, I held on tight and let her cry. And eventually she began to calm down.

  “I’m…sorry,” she hiccupped.

  “Don’t be sorry,” I whispered.

  “I’m such a girl tonight.”

  “I like girls.” I kissed her, and she tasted like tears. So I wiped her cheeks with my thumbs and kissed her again.

  She took a deep breath and tried to let it out slowly. “It doesn’t even make sense to panic about something that didn’t even happen.”

  “Not sure fear ever makes sense,” I argued. “I’ll be seeing those headlights for a long time whenever I close my eyes.”

  Her teary gaze met mine. “Thank you for pulling me out of the way.”

  “Anytime,” I said, then gave her a smile.

  She returned my smile, but hers looked embarrassed. “Thank you for the comfort fuck up against my door.”

  “Anytime,” I repeated. Then I rolled on top of her. “If you’re still crying, though, maybe I didn’t do a thorough job of it. Maybe I’m slippin’.”

  “Not hardly,” she whispered. Then she tugged my face down for a kiss.

  I got a little sidetracked then. I forgot myself in her kisses. Got lost as her tongue stroked against my own. Time slipped. Soft hands unbuttoned my shirt, and I shed it. I kicked off my boxers and climbed under the quilt with her.

  That’s how I found myself lying naked on top of Zara for the first time in two years, making sweet love to her neck. My body hummed with need, even though I’d just come like a fountain in the living room. But with Zara, there was no “off” switch for me.

  She moaned into my mouth, and once again, everything was heat and wonder. She lifted her knees to hug my hips, and I groaned. I couldn’t resist turning my chin to find her hot mouth with mine.

  “Ungh,” I slurred against her tongue. Then I actually chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” she panted.

  “I feel like a teenager. You kiss me and I just want to come everywhere.”

  “So do it,” she whispered, then captured my lips in another kiss.

  I moaned and pushed her down into the mattress, my erection against her belly. “Want you so bad. But I don’t have a condom.” I hadn’t had one in the living room, either. I had to get off of her right now or we’d end up doing it again.

  She grabbed my elbow to keep me right where I was. “It’s okay. I have an IUD now.”

  “Yeah?”

  She smiled at me, dragging a thumb across my lip. Goosebumps broke out on my back. Then, beneath me, she spread her legs with an unmistakable invitation.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, and it came out sounding hoarse. “Missed you, baby.” I lifted one of her knees and pushed inside. “So much,” I ground out, too stupid with lust to keep that to myself.

  We tumbled into another kiss. And when I began to move, it was a sensory overload. Her soft body under mine, my hungry tongue in her mouth. I tried to slow down and relax, but my body fought for more. My hips pumped, and her long legs wrapped around me tightly. Again.

  For the second time tonight, it was burning madness—all muscle and motion, and her brown eyes boring into mine. Then her hot gasps turned vocal—as if the pleasure were too much to keep
inside. I’d been fantasizing about this for two years, but the real thing was even more intense than I’d remembered.

  I pinned her hips down to the mattress with firm hands. She was panting now, her head thrown back, stomach muscles tight. “Give it to me,” I begged, fucking her in long strokes. Maybe I was turning into a sap—someone I barely recognized. But taking her in her bed again felt like coming home.

  * * *

  Afterward we lay there, ruined. Our breathing was loud, and my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest. She closed her eyes and turned her face away, as if it were all too much. Her first impulse was—as always—to put a little distance between us.

  “No, baby.” I wasn’t having it. I reached out an arm and rolled her over again, halfway onto my body. “You’re not gonna shake me off so easily. You’re not kicking me out of your bed tonight. I’m staying.”

  “This was a bad idea.” She pressed her cheek against my shoulder and sighed. “We probably should have had tea and kept our clothes on.”

  “Tea instead of a doubleheader?” I chuckled. “No fucking way.”

  She kissed me on the pec. “Am I at least allowed to visit the bathroom?”

  “Only if you come right back.”

  She slid from the bed, and I admired her bare backside as she disappeared from the darkened room. She spent a few minutes out of sight. I heard the toilet flush, and footsteps as she walked around, shutting off the last lamp.

  When she slid into bed again, she said, “Won’t Bess wonder what happened to you tonight?”

  I snorted and pulled her closer. “Nice try. Bess can use her imagination. You don’t really want me to leave, anyway.”

  “Says who?” she challenged.

  “Says the marks all over my back. A few minutes ago you were clinging to me like that girl on the Titanic.”

  “You watched Titanic?” She poked me in the chest. “Big tough guy like you?”

  “Bess made me,” I lied.

  Zara laughed out loud, and I loved the sound of it.