It Happens

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  -Zee’s secret thoughts

  Zee

  Everything hurt.

  My teeth. My lips. The tip of my nose. Hell, I was fairly sure even my fingernails did, too.

  I had no clue what was wrong with me, but I knew that there was definitely something very bad happening. You didn’t experience this kind of pain and not have something seriously wrong with you.

  “Blood pressure is better,” I heard someone say. “He’s doing remarkably well considering the circumstances.”

  What circumstances?

  “She’s not, though,” I heard someone else say. “Her BP is so low, even after we’ve maxed out all meds she can safely have. Hell, the doctor even had to pull out the big guns with that last order. I haven’t seen any improvement, though. Oh, shit.”

  My eyes opened even though they wanted to stay closed—possibly forever—and I looked around the room.

  There was a lot going on. There were at least three nurses in the cubicle next to me, all of them in an ugly brown/olive type colored scrub shirt and pants, and each of them were crowded around another bed that was quite close to mine.

  Not too close, not close enough for me to touch it, but I could definitely toss a pillow over toward the other bed and hit it.

  “Her blood pressure is dropping fast. Too fast,” the first woman who’d spoken said. “Annnd, her pulse is gone.”

  Things happened fast after that.

  A flurry of activity exploded in the room. A cord was pulled at the top of the bedside that the nurses had been surrounding, and suddenly the crowd in the room doubled, going from four to eight in such a short time that I hadn’t even had time to blink.

  People were yelling, a cart was rolled in, and there was beeping. God, all the beeping.

  The room was bright, and there’d been so many voices that I was honestly curious if they just knew who the other was talking to, because they all responded as if they knew what they were doing.

  Then suddenly I could see who was in the other bed.

  Annmarie.

  No, check that. It was Jubilee. Jubilee was the one with the black nail polish, not Annmarie.

  My heart rate started to race, and not only could I feel it inside my chest, but I could hear it on the monitor.

  A cool hand touched mine, and I looked over to find Annmarie touching my hand, with Eitan standing a few inches to her right.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she lied.

  I shook my head, my mind racing.

  She had to be okay. She had to!

  “Yo,” Jubilee poked me in the side. “Are you going to eat your food, or can I have a bite of that oatmeal? It looks really good.”

  I looked over at her half-gone waffle and said, “How about you just keep your hands to yourself. And if you want more food, order it.”

  She scrunched up her nose at me, sticking out her tongue for good measure.

  I took a healthy bite of the oatmeal, and even though it was bland as fuck, I moaned like it was good anyway.

  My father chuckled at my antics. Pete ignored me and Jubilee. Jubilee viciously tore into a sausage link.

  I grinned—inwardly that was.

  ***

  We were twenty minutes into our three-hour ride when I had to stop to get gas.

  When I pulled over at the gas pump, I stepped off and looked backward at my occupant.

  “You about to fall asleep?” I asked curiously.

  She opened her eyes and shook her head. “No. But I swear this bike is magic. Well, all bikes are, but this one, in particular, is stupendous. When I lean back right here, my lower back vibrates. I haven’t been able to work this particular kink out for three damn days, and your bike did it in twenty without me even trying.”

  I grunted and held out my hand for her to take, she declined and dismounted on her own, turning her back on me as she did.

  Sighing at her attitude, knowing that I probably deserved whatever she could dish out, I started to fill the tank up.

  Four minutes later, gas having been filled for two of those minutes, I leaned against my bike and waited for her to come out.

  She didn’t.

  What was she doing? I didn’t see anything, not even the bounce of her head through the aisles.

  Curious now as to what she was up to, I pocketed my keys and walked into the store, glancing through every aisle before I came up empty.

  I passed a curious looking older gentleman that was staring at either the condoms or the bottles of motor oil—I was betting motor oil, but who knew? He may be getting lucky—and headed to the bathrooms.

  Coming to the single occupant bathrooms, I knocked on the one indicated for ladies and said, “Yo, Jubilee. You okay in there?”

  There was a long pause, then a high-pitched, “Yes!”

  I frowned.

  “Jubilee?” I called.

  “Y-yeah?” she called out, sounding out of breath.

  That was when a memory of her, on top of me, riding my cock came to mind.

  Her voice had been all husky and turned on then, too. Kind of like it was right now.

  I knocked on the door one more time and said, “Jubilee. Let me in.”

  There was a slight hesitation, and suddenly the door was yanked open, and I was being jerked in by my t-shirt.

  I had about half a second to take in the new room I was in before the door was closed behind me, locked tight, and Jubilee was climbing me like a tree.

  One second, I was looking at the damn toilet and sink that were so close there was no way shit didn’t get onto the sink knobs when you flushed it, and the next I was standing with Jubilee’s ass in my hands and her mouth on my neck.

  It took my brain about half a second to comprehend what was going on, and then I moved with her back pressed up against the tiled wall that went from floor to ceiling.

  “What the fuck?” I groaned when her mouth traveled up my throat.

  “Riding on the back of your bike is slowly killing me,” she whispered.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because being this close to you…touching you all the time? It’s slowly wearing down my resistance. There’s no more fight in me. I’m all yours.”

  I grinned at her.

  “I need you to fuck me really quick. I haven’t been able to come on my own since I left you.”

  The desperation in her words had me moving better than the actual words coming out of her mouth.

  I wrapped my hand around her jaw and lifted her chin, putting her in the perfect position for my mouth when I slammed it down onto hers.

  She moaned into me, her sweet breath mingling with mine as our tongues dueled.

  “Who were we kidding?” I said in between breaths. “We were never going to be able to fight this now that we know what we’re missing.”

  She laughed, and I bit down lightly on her lip to tell her what I thought about her pulling away.

  She shivered and moved back in, this time being the aggressor.

  “And you never told me that you were a virgin,” I accused.

  She pulled back, her breath hot and heavy, and bared her teeth. “When would you have liked me to do that? I’m not sure that I was capable after everything that we did that night. And if I was feeling then anything like I’m feeling now—which, if my dreams are correct, I was—then I had zero control over anything, my body included.

  “Telling you that I was a virgin would’ve been the very last thing on my mind seeing as everything that you’re doing to me right now is making me so hot that there’s only one thing that is in my head right now…having you inside of me.”

  I felt the exact same way.

  “Take off your jeans,” I ordered. “And hurry.”

  The women’s restrooms were popular places. I bet we had two minutes tops before someone was knocking to be let in.

  She did as she was asked, shucking her jeans so fast that she’d already had to be thi
nking of the fastest way to get them off.

  Hell, even her freakin’ shoes were off and laying precariously on top of each other in her haste to get them removed.

  She threw herself back at me, and without a second thought, I had her back in my arms and her back resting up against the tile once again, my body pinning hers into place.

  “Condom?” she breathed.

  I reached back into my wallet and extracted one, ripping it open with my teeth as I fumbled with my fly.

  Moments after it was unzipped, I was rolling the condom down my length while also holding her up.

  I could tell that I hadn’t done as good of a job as I should have, but before I could put her down and fix it, she was reaching for my cock and fitting it to her entrance.

  Seconds later, she was sliding down my cock and I was cursing up a storm because I wasn’t even sure I’d need two minutes.

  Thirty seconds, max.

  She cried out, and I leaned forward and captured her mouth with mine once more, trying to keep her exclamations to a minimum.

  There would be no doubt what we were doing in here if she was screaming loud enough for everyone to hear her.

  “Gotta be quiet,” I murmured against her lips. “And I hope you’re ready because you have about thirty seconds before I come.”

  She returned my kiss and then screamed a little when I pulled all the way out of her and slammed back inside.

  Her nails dug into my back, and her surprisingly strong thighs tightened around my waist.

  “Four more of those,” she breathed harshly. “And I will.”

  She was wrong.

  It took her three.

  On the third stroke, the minute I hit the end of her, she threw her head back and screamed.

  It was only my hand over her mouth that caused the McDonald’s next door to not hear her.

  I followed shortly after, thankful that I’d taken her there, because I really hadn’t come that hard or fast since I was a teenager.

  “Fuuuuck,” I growled, low and guttural. “God, you feel so good.”

  There was a reason she felt so good, too.

  That was revealed the moment I pulled out and saw that my dick was no longer sheathed in a condom.

  I cursed and reached for the paper towel dispenser, waving my hand around in front of it.

  It was one of those motion detection ones that spit out like a quarter of the amount of paper towel that you’d actually need.

  “Fuck,” I growled in frustration. “I hate these stupid fuckin’ things.”

  She giggled and took the measly amount that I’d been able to get from the machine and covered herself.

  “I wonder if our first time was like that,” she said curiously.

  “Fast and furious?” I wondered.

  She nodded. “That, and so explosive. I don’t remember much, only bits and pieces.” She paused, her face flushing, and I looked on as she reached down and produced the condom from inside of herself. “I’m clean.”

  I snorted. “I know that you’re clean,” I countered. “And I am, too.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “You telling me that is about the same as me telling you,” she pointed out.

  I supposed that it was.

  “I’m more worried about producing a kid,” I pointed out.

  She flushed again, then her eyes took on a faraway look.

  “That’s probably not possible, anyway,” she said softly. “The lightning? It did a lot of damage. I haven’t had a consistent period since it happened. The doctor thinks that it’s likely I’ll never carry…or be able to carry any baby to term if I did happen to get pregnant.” She looked at her scarred hand. “So yeah, the scarring here is definitely not the worst part.”

  I hadn’t thought about that.

  “I wonder if my sperm count is lower?” I asked. “You know, they asked me when I was younger if I wanted to have that tested, but I hadn’t cared much at the time.”

  I reached down and zipped myself up, making sure to be careful with my cock that was still half-hard.

  She reached down for her pants as I started to walk to the sink to wash my hands.

  “I guess the only way you’re gonna know the answer to that is to get tested,” she said. “But, I guess it’s not like knowing is going to change anything. You either can or you can’t. At least, that’s what I try to tell myself.”

  I thought about that for a long second. She was right and had a good point.

  “If you were affected, I don’t see why I wouldn’t be affected,” I told her as I reached once again for the paper towels. This time it gave me a little smidge of a towel that would be good enough to wipe one finger off, and one finger only. “I don’t understand why you get normal amounts of useful paper towel, and I get nothin’.”

  She shrugged her shoulders and went to the toilet and threw what looked like half a roll of paper towels in.

  “You’re not supposed to throw paper towels in the toilet,” I pointed out. “That’s how you clog it up.”

  “It’s not my toilet,” she said. “It’s someone else’s toilet.”

  “And that’s all that matters?” I asked, getting frustrated now with the goddamn paper towels. When it gave me another small piece, I yanked it hard and ended up unrolling more than my fair share. “This was a fuck of a lot easier when they let me get my own goddamn towels,” I grumbled.

  Her brows rose. “I’m fairly sure that if you acquired a semblance of patience, you might find that it gives you plenty.”

  “Whatever,” I muttered. “And let’s go back to the paper towels in the toilet. Do you want other people to have that same attitude when you bring them over to your house?”

  “I don’t have paper towels in my bathroom,” she pointed out. “I have hand towels.”

  I sighed, not amused by her newfound attitude.

  Nor was I amused by the fact that I found the attitude cute.

  Cute!

  If that had been anyone else doing that, it’d have pissed me off.

  Yet it was her, and I was finding it goddamn cute.

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  More so, what the fuck was I thinking about when I came in here and did what I did? I seriously needed to learn fucking control, that was for sure.

  Then I shook my head and thought about the fact that I’d been wanting her for a while now if I was admitting it. She pissed me off, but I still found her attractive as fuck. I didn’t think that I’d ever get over the fact that I hated to love her. That I still wanted to fill her sweet, smart mouth with my cock just so she wouldn’t have the time or ability to run said smart mouth.

  “What’s with that look on your face?” she asked curiously.

  I turned to watch her finish getting dressed and wash her hands.

  “I was thinking about the fact that you were masturbating in a public bathroom while I was waiting for you to come back outside,” I lied. “Is that normal for you?”

  She flipped me off and waved her hand in front of the paper towel dispenser, getting more than enough to dry her hands.

  The goddamn piece of shit.

  “What’s normal for me is riding in a car. What’s not normal is being pressed up to your hard, hot body, and feeling the vibration of your motorcycle between my legs,” she explained.

  I grinned unrepentantly. “You liked it, though, didn’t you?”

  She smiled back at me. “What I liked and didn’t like isn’t something that you need to know.”

  I reached for the door handle, but her hand slapped mine away from it.

  When I looked at her in surprise, she held up the paper towel. “You should really open the door with your paper towel. You never know who walked out of this bathroom after taking a shit and didn’t wash their hands.”

  That made a sick sort of sense.

  “Shit,” I shook my head. “That’s fuckin’ gross.”

&nbs
p; Her smile was on the verge of being creepy. “Then you should also not think about the fact that menus, door handles into the restaurants themselves, or even a grocery cart are covered in bacteria.”

  She yanked open the door seconds later, revealing not one, not two, but three women waiting.

  She instantly flushed from hair to toes, and I grinned.

  “Just an FYI, you should probably never flush paper towels down the toilet or you’ll be required to call a plumber in to clean up after you,” I told them all, letting them think what they would. “Also, probably shouldn’t do sanitary pads or tampons, either.”

  A few of the women nodded in understanding. The last one, an older lady that was clearly past the point of needing sanitary products, stared at us suspiciously.

  “I’m kind of disappointed that y’all don’t have a better story,” she said as she pushed past both of us into the bathroom, and then slammed the door solidly closed.

  I grabbed hold of Jubilee’s wrist, then tucked her hand into mine, pulling her along in my wake.

  “Did you want something to eat or drink?” she asked hopefully.

  “Eating and drinking isn’t really conducive with riding a bike,” I pointed out. “If you want something, it needs to be eaten now and not on the bike. You need to be able to hold on in case of an emergency, and having a Snickers bar in your hand won’t allow you to do that.”

  She tossed me a glare over her shoulder, then went straight to where the Snickers were and picked up three.

  I grabbed a water and a protein bar and met her up at the counter.

  “Is that all?” the bored looking attendant asked.

  I looked down at Jubilee, who was busy worrying her lip as she stared at the lottery tickets.

  “I want one of those Bingo ones.” She pointed at the ticket. “And one of those mermaid ones.”

  So that was what we did for ten minutes while we waited for her to eat not one, not two, but all three of her Snickers bars.

  “Did you or did you not just finish breakfast?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “But I also didn’t eat as much as I would’ve normally eaten.” She paused. “I need a lot of calories, okay? It’s how I’m able to run as much as I do.”

  I didn’t bother to argue with her that she could have probably gotten her calories from a lot healthier source. Honestly, talking to Jubilee about anything was like talking to a brick wall at times.