by Amy Faye
"You got hit by a car. You don't remember?"
"I remember… something about… dragons? That sounds crazy. I must have been dreaming. I fell and got hit by some guy, and then… I… am I crazy?"
The woman took a deep breath in. "You're not crazy, I'm afraid. You were hit by a car. My husband and I are here to make sure that you don't wake up alone. Seth… well, he needed a nap. Then again, he always seems like he needs a nap."
"That's Seth," I said. "I don't think I caught your name. I'm sorry if I'm forgetting you, or…"
"I'm Seth's sister-in-law. Cassidy. The guy who just left, that was my husband, Blake. He's Seth's brother, and I'm sure that any minute, he'll be coming right back, and probably calling Seth to tell him you're awake. He's been worried sick."
"Seth? Worried? Can't be."
"He's a prickly one, that's true, but under his spiky exterior is a sandpapery interior. But it was worried about you."
"How long have I been asleep?"
"You were coming in and out of it, apparently mostly out. But we set down last night around ten, and it's… four o'clock in the morning now. Before that, I guess, it had been thirty-six hours or so."
"That doesn't sound good."
"It's not very good," Cassidy agreed. "But you're awake now, and that's a good first step. Once you've been seen by a doctor, we'll see what they say, though, okay? Smile. You're going to be just fine, I can guarantee you that."
I tried to smile. I could feel my face fighting me. I was too tired for this. Too tired for anything. The man came back in. Blake? He looked like he ought to have been captain of a football team. Something in the back of my mind registers him as attractive, while something else immediately disqualifies him. Not my type, I guess.
"Hello," I say weakly. A man in scrubs is standing next to him, a frown on his face.
"Good morning, Miss Jones. Are you feeling alright?"
"I'd be feeling better if I hadn't gotten hit by a car," I say blithely. The nurse laughs like he's never heard that one before.
"I bet. But you were, so we're going to have to make sure that you're doing all better. Can you sit up for me?"
17
Seth's body under my arm was an impossibly important part of the whole system that the two of us had worked out to get me into the house. I could walk; they wouldn't have let me out of the hospital if I couldn't, I don't think. Maybe they would have given me a wheelchair if they thought that it would help, but I don't know.
There's another new house. I don't know how many of these Seth is planning to go through, but he looks at it grimly, like he's not expecting it to stay around long.
Then he limped me into the bedroom, laid me down on the bed, and took a deep breath. "That it? Or do you need something else?"
Of course I needed something else. I raised an eyebrow.
"One thing."
"Name it," he said. His voice was low and hard. "And I'll make sure you get whatever you need."
"I have to be honest, I've been in a hospital for a week, and I haven't managed to find ten minutes all together in that whole time."
"Okay?"
"I haven't cum in a week and if I don't fucking do it soon, I'm going to jump off a bridge."
He looks at me sadly. Almost knowingly.
"You sure about this? I don't want to hurt you."
"Fuck that. Hurt me. Little bitch."
Seth's eyebrow raises at that. "I'm a little bitch, now?"
"You're a little bitch if you can't even get your cock hard for long enough to fuck me with it."
"Who said anything about my cock? You don't get my cock unless you can prove you deserve it."
"Of course I deserve it," I say. "I'd say I earned it by getting hit by a car."
He rolls his eyes, and then mid-roll he cringes. Like he suddenly decided that he feels bad after all. And, to be honest, I feel a little bit bad for him, too.
"You're right. You poor thing. You want me to come over there and make it all better?"
"Ew, no. Not if you're going to make it weird. I just want a totally normal screaming orgasm. Nothing weird about it. So if you were thinking now was the time to introduce diapers, or something? Just, like. Hold it for a little longer, before I can walk away and go live my own life on the streets if it goes too far."
"You'd go to all that trouble, just to stop me from having a little diaper play?"
"You're right, I feel like I'm being too much of a wimp. I guess it's finally time that we said goodbye to each other." I push myself up halfway, teasing.
His hand is on my chest in an instant. It shoves me roughly back to the bed, my head bouncing a little off the pillow behind me.
"You've been in the hospital too long. You've forgotten who you're dealing with."
"Then why don't you show me, big man?"
His hand moves up from my chest to my throat and presses down. I try to take a breath reflexively, and the air just doesn't come. I gasp out, but the breath refuses and I struggle for a moment to find a grasp on myself.
In the same movement, his other hand moves between my thighs, roughly palming my mound, and pressing the fabric of my jeans against my crotch. I grind up into it in my struggle to get myself free from his hand on my throat, and the surge of pleasure is amplified by the lack of control.
"God damn." I'm breathing hard. My voice comes out as a croak.
He doesn't let up the weight, and my head's starting to feel foggy. His fingers slip under the waistband of my jeans and under the thin fabric of my panties. Through the carefully-trimmed hair, and down to my entrance. He wastes no time in slipping a finger inside me, seeming to delight at the way that I struggle under his ministrations.
"You like that, don't you?"
"I love it," I say. His hand comes off my throat and I take a breath. It brings me back from the brink of unconsciousness and at the same time, turns my vision completely black as I take in too much oxygen for my body to handle.
In the moment of darkness his fingers wiggle inside me, stretching my pussy out just a little bit and making me feel like I'm going nuts when he hits just the right spot.
I try to say something, but I don't know what I wanted to say; the words come out as a dull, unclear moan. A moan that the neighbors were likely to hear, if I kept it up at this volume.
His other hand pulled my shirt up, revealing my breasts. While he added a second finger, his other hand worked to pinch my nipple, and pull. Hard. I gasped in a breath, trying to keep my wits about me, but it was a losing battle. What I wanted at that point wasn't really to keep my senses in order, or to keep my self-control.
What I wanted was to have his cock in my throat, down to the base, and have him fucking me, all at the same time. I wanted him in every hole he could find, and when I was finally overwhelmed enough, then I'd be able to cum, hard.
I opened my mouth to tell him all that, to tell him exactly what I wanted from him, to beg him to give it to me, pretty please, with a cherry on top.
Instead, my voice decided to let itself out as he curled up and pressed against my g-spot.
"Ohhhh, God, Seth, fuck me."
I moved my hips to try to get his fingers to fuck me, harder. Move faster. Move more. Hit all the right spots. He seemed to know better than I did what I needed, did everything before I could think of it, and it only made me hungrier for more.
18
My eyes screwed shut as my entire body tensed up under Seth's fingers, and my eyes started to roll up until all I could see was blackness all around me.
If any of that bothered Seth, he made no sign of it. He just kept massaging my pussy, kept moving his fingers, like I wasn't fighting like a woman possessed to get out from under them, to get out from under the pleasure. I failed to overpower him, and for that, I was going to be eternally grateful.
The blackness in my head started to brighten, and brighten, and then it felt like I was staring at the sun as my entire body shook from another orgasm, right on top of the first.
I
felt his fingers slip out of me, felt myself coming back down. My breaths came hard and deep and fast, and it still felt like it wasn't going to be enough, with all the blood that my heart was pumping. Quickly, hard, and loud in my ears, thump-thump-thump as fast as anything.
"You liked that, didn't you?"
"Is that all you've got?"
I laid back and panted. I don't know if I could have done more, if he'd offered to pay me for my services. But I'll be damned if I'm going to let Seth know that.
"Not even getting started, babe. But it looked like you could use a breather."
"Fuck breather. Fuck you. Take your cock out right fucking now."
I heard the sound of a zipper working and looked over. There it was. My prize, for being a good girl. I worked the clasp on my own pants as he lifted himself up onto the bed and hung that cock in a convenient place, right by my head.
I just turned my head to the side and opened my lips, and he was inside. Taking his pleasure from me, and I was letting him do it. He could do whatever he wanted at this point, and he knew it. Because I wanted him to have whatever he wanted.
"There's a good girl," he said. "Deep."
I relaxed my throat, and with every push of his cock down my throat, it went a little bit deeper until my nose was pressing into the muscles of his hip. Until I couldn't take any more because there was no more to take.
My throat made a choking sound as he pulled back out of me, and a line of drool ran from my lips to the tip of his member. He looked down at me with a smile. "Good girl."
"Are you going to fuck me now?"
He shifted around between my legs and helped pull my jeans off the rest of the way. They were ruined, of course, after skidding across the ground. It gave them a certain sort of character. The sort of character that hipsters would pay hundreds of dollars for, and all I had to do was get hit by a car.
"You ready?"
It was a stupid question. He'd never cared if I was ready before, but now he was worrying about me.
"I'm not a china doll. Now just shut up and put that thing inside me before I go find someone else who will."
He doesn't waste any time. His cock finds my entrance and he fills me to the brim with a single swift movement, all at once. I let out a moan, my body already starting to shake and shiver with pleasure just from that one thrust. Then again, he'd found a spot inside me that drove me nuts, and in an instant he'd hit it as hard as it could be hit.
Then he pulled back again, and then he hit it again, as hard as the last time. At that, I felt myself slipping entirely over the edge of an orgasm. My eyes screwed shut and I called out to whoever was listening that I needed help because if I kept getting fucked like this, I was going to go nuts.
He took a hold of my shoulders and used them to pull into me harder. His cock rammed into me, harder than ever. I was shaking hard at this point, my body so far gone into orgasm after orgasm that I couldn't see straight. He kept moving, faster. Harder. More.
I had given up any effort of not moaning; every thrust came right at the tail end of the last exultation, and no matter how much I tried to stop myself before the next one came, I couldn't stop my voice from coming out fast enough.
Seth seemed perfectly pleased by all that. His hips moved hard and fast and rhythmically. Under my own voice I could hear his own, low and rough, joining me in the harmony of sex, rhythm provided by the sound of our flesh slapping together.
Then the entire rhythm interrupted itself as he started to approach the edge, and the lovemaking that had turned to fucking became rutting, like being taken by an animal, his hands pulling desperately so that he could keep thrusting whenever his body had the ability to move forward in the least bit.
I could hear myself, could hear him, but I wasn't listening any more. I could see him over me, gritting his teeth, his arms reaching up towards my throat and squeezing, but I wasn't watching.
All I was paying attention to, the only thought running through my head, was the feeling of my pussy, pulling his cock back into it as he withdrew, and then the feeling of his hardness slamming home inside me. The way that his cock got a little bit stiffer as he moved, the way that his hips tightened.
Seth was close. He was more than close. I felt him bury himself in me, and then I felt him twitch and I felt a warm, pleasant heat spread through my belly.
He pulled out again and plowed in hard again, fucking his first rope of cum in deeper even as he spurted into me again. Another twitch. I felt myself break into another orgasm, my body shaking at this point from the too-sensitive, almost painful feeling of his movements.
I didn't stop moaning until he finally buried himself in me one last time, his movements slowed and his breathing hard. He laid down on my chest, still filling me up. His head rested on my breast and I ran my fingers through his hair, my own breaths coming hard.
"God damn," I said, in wonderment. Then, slowly, the world around us started to come back into reality along with us.
19
I woke up a few hours later. I don't know exactly how much time, because apparently, the clock that Seth had been keeping by the bed was destroyed in the last house collapsing. Whatever the reason, it's not there any more.
Which means that all I have to go by is the fact that when I got home, it was evening, and now, it's very dark. I tap my phone's power button, but I guess it didn't get a charge, because it stalwartly refuses to turn itself on.
There's a light shining through the door. It's not enough to see by, not properly, but it's enough that it illuminates the room halfway. For a moment, I think about calling Seth to get me out of bed. I'm not tired any more. At least, I'm not tired anymore, for now. Give me twenty minutes, and I'll be back out like a light.
I have to learn how to support myself at some point, right? So I get myself out of bed. As long as I keep my weight on my good leg, and hobble as best I can on the bad leg, as quick as possible, I'm going to be alright.
At least, that's what I hope for. The actual realities of stepping on my bad leg come home to roost when I put my weight on it to move. The pain starts at my ankle and shoots up to my knee and up to my hip. They said I didn't break it, which is good.
Apparently, it's pretty hard to repair a hip. You mostly replace them, and once they're replaced, there's no going back to full leg function. It's always going to be an 'okay' replacement at best.
I manage to get my weight back onto my good foot, and try a different tactic. Move my bad leg forward, where I want it, and then push up with my toes into a sort of half-way jump. In midair I press forward with the other foot and it moves me six inches.
It's not silent, but it's not making a racket, either. I make it to the door before I need a rest, and I lean against it breathing hard. I'm going to have to get better real soon, because this 'hopping on one foot' thing isn't going to fly very far.
There's a voice coming from the front room. If I brace myself between the walls, I can take even more weight off my bad leg, and I made better time, even though the distance was twice as far as getting from the bed to the door.
"Babe?"
There's no answer, but I hear Seth's voice. It's low, like I'm not meant to hear it. But there's a big difference between what I can hear from just outside the room, and from asleep in bed.
"I'm not playing around any more," Seth says. His voice is low and hard, almost angry. Angry enough to be a little scary, even to me. "You want to fuck with me, fuck with my family, that's fine. But if you're going to get Meg hurt, that's crossing a line, Kyle. So I don't give a single flying fuck what you think you're going to do. I don't care if you show up. But if you don't, I'm coming for you, and I won't give you this nice, polite warning next time."
The sound of my ex's name put her chest thumping. What did he mean? Fucking with his family? Putting me in danger? That was dragon stuff. But Kyle's got nothing to do with dragons. Unless he deals some kind of dragon-drugs, there's really no reason to assume that he's involved with whatever Seth is
into.
The second thought that hit me was that he sounds like he's going to go get into another fight. If Kyle did have some way to deal with dragons, enough to 'fuck with' an entire family of them, then what was Seth, all by himself, going to do about it?
Maybe he had an answer. Maybe he had a plan. I tried to tell myself that it was all going to be fine. After all, Seth wasn't going to march into a trap. He was dumb, as dumb as most men when pride starts marching around. But he wasn't an idiot.
All these thoughts swirled in my head, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. My breath quickened. And the truth was, it wasn't from having to hop all the way down the long hallway.
There was something else upsetting me, something that I didn't want to admit. Something I didn't even want to think about admitting, not even for a few minutes.
Why would I be worried about Seth? He was perfectly capable, for one. And for another, he was just a convenient lay, and a good enough guy, I guess. But it wasn't anything real or permanent, not yet.
What did it mean if I was sitting here worrying about him getting hurt? I knew the answer, but I still asked myself, as if the meaning was going to change somehow. But it was a losing effort.
I knew exactly what it meant. It meant that I was feeling something a little bit more serious than 'a good lay and a nice guy.' Which was never a good sign for me.
There's a brief moment where I notice the sound of footsteps in the front room, and for an instant I think about trying to hobble my way down the hallway. I made it two steps before I heard Seth's voice behind me.
"How much of that did you just hear?"
20
"How much of that did you just hear?"
I don't know how much he knows. I don't know what the right answer is, either. But I know that if I give the wrong answer, I'm going to be in a world of trouble. And more than that, I know that I don't want to be. What I want more than anything is for this twisting feeling in my gut to go away.
"I heard you talking," I said. "But I just got here, and you were off the phone, so I thought, maybe you'd come back to bed. Maybe you'd help me to the bathroom, too, for that matter."
