Random & Rare

by Cat Porter

  The sirens wailed on and on.

  Are they finally coming for me?

  That clipped voice kept murmuring while his radio bleeped on and off. His hands gripped my shoulders, and his stiff wide-brimmed hat moved in my face as he spoke. His lips pulled in tight. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the splashes of blood on the road. The battered sneaker, laces soaked red, the white sole splashed with muck. The lifeless eyes, the long blonde hair twisted around her face that was lying at a ridiculous, revolting angle on the asphalt. The torn body splayed in the hallway, flooding the tile floor with blood. His eyes were open, still searching, still…the chopped buzzing of the walkie-talkies.

  “Horrible things sometimes happen to good people, son. Can’t explain it. It’s part of life. This sort of thing is a very rare occurrence. I promise you, we will find them. We’ll catch up with them. I’m real sorry. You go with this nice lady now. She’ll take care of you, okay? She’s going to take you to the hospital and make sure you’re okay. Don’t look anymore, son. Don’t look.”

  “Dig.”

  Part of life.

  “Dig!”

  Rare.

  “Dig, honey, you’re hurting me. Baby, please. Honey, stop. Stop!”

  Choking, gurgling.

  Gracie. My wildflower.

  Pounding at the door. A burst, pushing. Heavy voices.

  “Fuck. You okay?” Boner shouted.

  Heaving breaths.

  Who the hell is yelling?

  Shit, it’s me.

  My eyes peeled open. My body shook. A cold sweat had doused my face and chest. Grace’s strained eyes pleaded with me from the safety of Boner’s embrace.

  “Oh, shit. Fuck. Again?” I buried my face in the damp pillow.

  “Yeah, bro, a-fuckin’-gain.” He turned to Grace, his hand cradling her head. “You okay, babe?”

  She nodded, blinking.

  “Should I stay?”

  “No, it’s okay. Go,” she mumbled. “Thank you.”

  Boner stroked the side of her face, glanced at me, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Baby, I’m sorry.” I licked at my dry lips.

  “Shh…it’s okay.” Grace wrapped her arms around me.

  I pushed her away, but she wouldn’t have any of it. She folded me in her arms and held me tight, wiping the matted wet hair from my face.

  “It’s over now. Honey, shh…”

  This wasn’t the first time Boner had intervened. Grace had stopped asking me what my nightmares were about months ago because I’d refused to tell her. I’d refused to tell her how my life had gotten blown to bits at thirteen years of age.

  I sank my face in her neck, the adrenaline pumping through me at full throttle, my heart pounding in my chest. I could still see—

  No, shut it down, Quillen. I rubbed my face against her chest. Get it together.

  “Baby, I’m sorry. You okay?” I finally managed. My hand stroked her throat as if it could caress away the pain and terror it had inflicted earlier.

  “I’m fine. You haven’t had one of those bad ones in a long time. What the hell is it?”

  “Nothing. It’s—”

  “That was not nothing.”

  I didn’t want to share it, discuss it. I only wanted to use the electricity charging through me. I pulled her down over me, smelling her sweet warm skin. “I need you, baby.”

  My fingers went to her panties, and her lips pulled in for a second. She rose up, stripped them off, and straddled me.

  “Give it to me, Grace,” I breathed, clutching her hips.

  We both guided my throbbing cock inside her, and I thrust deep into my oasis.

  My head arched back. “Oh…fuck.”

  “Jesus…Dig…” Her palms pressed into my chest as she moved over me.

  “Fuck me, Wildflower,” I let out on a groan.

  Her hips rolled into mine, quickening our pace. I strained to keep my eyes on hers, to concentrate on her beautiful ones swelling with feeling.

  “Talk to me, baby. Tell me…” I spit out.

  “I’m right here for you, baby. Right here…oh…your cock’s so hard, that’s the way I like it, all for me…oh yeah…harder, baby…”

  I growled as I gripped her flesh and slammed into her. This sweet, kind girl loved me, accepted me. She was still here—still taking me in her arms, offering me refuge, dousing me with relief in her body’s embrace, like the cascading waterfalls in the Hills we’d stand under in the heat of summer. What I felt for her was bigger than those three words, the ones we said to each other over and over, could ever express, but I knew she needed me to say them, and I would. I fucking needed to say them, too. It had taken me a while to realize that.

  The tension exploded in my head and zapped through my body, making it intent on one thing only. I wanted to get her off with me. I stroked her clit, fast and hard, and her cries sharpened and grew more urgent. That raunchy squishy, slapping sound of our bodies sliding and jamming against each other only drove me on. The call of the wild, raw instinct of the jungle.

  Forget, forget. Just let it fucking go. Obliterate the soul-searing eyes of a dead body. Obliterate the piercing wails of desperate, hopeless crying.

  But I knew—no matter how hard I blocked it, fucked past it, drove through it, ignored it—it would always be there. I wanted to break into two or two-thousand pieces, not sure which would be better, which would give me more relief.

  But right now…right now, I thrust inside her as fast as I could, my chest wound burning. I grunted as I raised my hips just a bit more and squeezed her clit.

  “Holy shit!” she cried out.

  Her body clamped down on mine, her insides gripping me to hell and back, and I finally shot off, my entire body shaking with it. I groaned loudly as my head fell back into the mattress. Grace leaned forward and kissed me down my throat, curling up on me but avoiding the wound. My fingers trailed through the sweat trickling down her back. Fuck, I wanted this feeling to last, this high-wire connection. I needed it like a drug, and Grace was the only dealer. My fingers sank into her hips, and I moved inside her once more.

  “Give it to me again, Wildflower.” I rolled her over and pushed both her knees up high. “Come on,” I whispered, my hair hanging in her eyes. My lips trailed over her wet cheek.

  Wet.

  I opened my eyes and focused my vision on her. She didn’t make a sound. Her jaw was tight, and her gaze was zeroed in on the opposite wall, tears silently falling down her face.

  “Babe, what’s wrong? What is it?” I gently lowered myself over her.

  My hand swept her hair from her damp skin. She looked away from me.

  “Baby, tell me.”

  She only shook her head.

  “Babe?”

  “Why do you do this?” she whispered, her breath hitching.

  I exhaled, forcing out a chuckle. “Was I too much of a beast?”

  Her lips trembled with the unspoken. Her tight gaze flitted over my face.

  Jesus, what the fuck?

  “The way you make love to me is brutally honest. And I like it. I love it, Dig. But you have to give me that back in return. I feel like I’m out there on my own half the time, and I hate that. That’s not why I’m with you.”

  “Look, I know, I’ve been leaving you here on your own a lot. . .”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I snapped.

  She took in a deep breath. “I trust you, baby. I trust you with my life. But you don’t trust me.”

  “You’re my old lady. Of course I trust you! I didn’t get you ready, right? Too rough? Selfish?”

  “Oh my God, it’s not the sex!”

  I was lost. Men were stupid that way, especially right after coming like a train wreck. My happy buzz was transforming into a traffic jam.

  I rubbed my eyes. “Babe, give it to me straight, would you?”

  “You’re suffering, and I don’t know why
!” Her face crumpled. “You won’t let me in where it’s dark for you. I need to be in there to help you.”

  My hand stroked the side of her face. “What are you talking about? You don’t have to help me.”

  “Dig—”

  “I don’t want you there. You’re my wildflower, baby. I need you outside in the light, in the air.”

  “That’s not how it works. We’re supposed to help each other.”

  “You do help me, Gracie. Obviously more than you know.”

  She only averted her gaze.

  “Baby, look at me.”

  She turned her head to face me. Her eyes were red, her jaw clenched.

  “I love you. You know that, right?” I brushed my lips with hers.

  Her muscles instantly relaxed all around me. My dick settled inside her. Her hips flexed up, and I rocked in again. Her tightness took my breath away for an intense split second.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered, wiping at her face.

  “I know.”

  I closed my eyes and slowly rocked in again as I took a deep breath. Her hips tightened, their movement stalling. My eyes blinked open.

  “Who the hell is Eve?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Eve? You kept calling out to her in your sleep. I thought you said you never had a serious girlfriend before. Why are you dreaming of a girl named Eve, and it’s making you miserable and freaking you out?”

  I exhaled roughly as I pulled out of her. Frowning, she adjusted herself on me.

  “Is she your long-lost first love?”

  “Ah, for fuck’s sake. You’re my goddamn first love!” I covered my eyes with my hands.

  “Great.”

  I raised my hands in the air. “Great? Holy shit!”

  “So why are you dreaming of her?” she raised her voice.

  I snapped. “Eve’s my sister.”

  “Your sister?”

  “She’s dead.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, honey.” She got off me and rolled into my side, planting a kiss on my shoulder, her arm snaking around my middle. She didn’t say anything more.

  I leaned my head against hers. My breath evened out as I focused on her soft strokes along my side.

  “She was killed,” I finally said.

  Grace let out a little breathy gasp and said nothing more, only raising herself over me just a bit to dig her fingers through my hair. That soft numbing feeling flowed over me, and I welcomed it. Yes, no more talking, thinking, forming words, explaining feelings. I was fucking drained.

  My hand went up her T-shirt, desperate for the feel of her bare tits in my hand. She knew what I needed and somehow managed to get her shirt and then her bra off in seconds flat. I nestled my face in her smooth, full curves, enjoying her baby-soft skin, her powder scent. I kissed her breasts, fondling them, sucking on her nipples until they were hard and wet. Grace always used baby powder after a shower, and I had grown to love that delicate fragrance. It had become my quiet breathing space, my piece of comfort during all these months together.

  All was right with the world again.

  She let out a sigh, her legs squirming, rubbing against mine. I focused on her silky skin, the drum of her heartbeat until my own began to finally slow down, and I drifted asleep on a cloud of velvet promise, her arms wrapped around me.

  “Coffee smells good, babe.” I sat up in bed and grabbed the steamy mug she had left for me on the side table. I swallowed the hot unsweetened black brew.

  Grace glanced up at me from the edge of the bed. She was writing on something.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Doodling.”

  “Oh, yeah? Show me.” I nudged her lower back with my knee.

  She bit her lip as she held up my Ray-Ban case. She had written her nickname in ink, decorated with a little flower over the I and one on either side. “Artistry, huh?”

  I grinned. “Ah, I like it.”

  “So you don’t forget about me when you’re on the road, which is most of the time.”

  “I always think about you. Never forget you, baby.”

  She propped the case and the pen on the dresser and turned to me. “How do you feel?”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine, huh?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Fine?”

  “Babe—”

  She glanced up at the ceiling for a second. “You’re going to have to do a better job of lying to me, babe. First, you get attacked, or you attacked, and not once, but twice on one run, which in itself is nothing new to write home about. Then you have another horrible nightmare that freaks you out and makes you a mess.”

  “I scared you. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not that, Dig.”

  “I said I feel much better. I managed to get some good sleep. The cut looks okay, right?” I poked a finger at the bandage on my chest.

  “Yes, it looks better. But you don’t get good sleep consistently, if at all. You haven’t been eating either. I’m worried about you.”

  “My stomach’s been acting up again. Got that burn going on. I don’t want to eat anyway. Well, no, I’d much rather eat you.”

  She didn’t even crack a smile as my finger tracked up her leg.

  “Oh, come on, baby. Give me a smile, a little one…come on…”

  She swatted my hand away. “It’s not funny, Dig. You can’t keep up like this.”

  My eyes pierced hers. “I’ve been doing it long before you came along.”

  She raised her chin. “Oh, okay. Right. I’m in your way then? Pain in your ass?”

  I let out an exhale, my one hand dropping on the mattress, the other putting the coffee mug on the side table. “I didn’t mean it like that, Grace. What I meant was, you can quit your worrying.”

  She crossed her arms and legs and scowled at me.

  “Why don’t you get over here and let me show you how grateful I am that you didn’t let Jump make the coffee?”

  “There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

  I slid back down on the bed, my hand over the sheet outlining my enormous hard-on for her. “Okay. Talk, if you’re still able to at the sight of this magnificence.”

  She rolled her eyes, and we both laughed.

  She wiped a hand across her forehead. “I had a scare the other day.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “I was late. My period. I was late two weeks. I’m never late.”

  I sat up higher against the wall, my heart thudding in my chest. “You’re still on the pill, right?”

  “Yes.”

  My eyebrows jammed into my forehead. “What are you saying? Are you pregnant? How can you be pregnant?”

  She looked me square in the eyes, her spine stiffening. “Would that be so bad?”

  “Yeah, actually, it would. Baby, I’m not…the way things are with the club right now…”

  “Other guys have kids, families.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “But what?”

  “That ain’t me.”

  Her eyes flared into a darker shade of green-brown. “Oh. Well, I guess we should have had this conversation a lot sooner then.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. I grabbed her arm. “Are you pregnant?”

  “No. It turned out to be a false alarm.” She pulled away from me. “Would you have told me to get rid of it if I were?”

  I leaned my head back against the headboard and let out a breath. “Doesn’t matter now.”

  “It matters to me. What are we doing here anyway?”

  My eyes snapped at her. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “When you say things like that, what am I supposed to think? ”

  “Hey, you’re my old lady, Grace. You’re mine. My responsibility in this club. We take care of each other, in and out of this bed. We make up a unit.”

  She nodded at me, mentally ticking off my laundry-list definition but not very impr
essed. “And a child doesn’t fit into that unit? Our child?”

  “Babe, I’m on the road a lot. We spend most of our time at this dump—”

  “We can make adjustments.”

  “Wildflower—”

  “You’re telling me you don’t want a kid? Ever?” Her eyes suddenly pooled with liquid as she drew in a breath. She was waiting for my answer.

  Oh, I wanted a kid. A kid with Grace. Our child. A few in fact. A family. Our family. I wanted it so bad that I didn’t need to think about it or weigh pros and cons. I knew this as a fact, deep in my gut. But the thought of being powerless to protect them—that was an insane kind of vulnerability. That blade twisted inside me. No, not ready yet. Soon.

  I grasped her hand in mine. “I didn’t say that. Babe, you just finished college. You wanna start with babies already?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “No, that’s true. Not right now. But if I were to get pregnant now, I wouldn’t get rid of it. Just so you know.”

  “Understood.”

  “Good.” She nodded and swept her long hair behind her ears.

  “Okay.” I got back to breathing again.

  “Anyway, I got a job,”

  “What kind of job?”

  “Pete wants to retire from running the bar. He’s not ready to sell, but he wants to cut down on the hours he spends there. He asked me to manage it. Full-time.”

  “You want to do it?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Do it.”

  “You don’t have a problem with me being there almost every night?”

  “We’re practically there every night, hon. Works for me. You running the place? Big win all around.”

  “Good.”

  “Good.” I ripped the sheet off my body, and my aching cock greeted her, begging for her attention. “You wanna manage me now?”

  She glanced at her watch, making a face. “Shucks. I’m a little pressed for time. Maybe later.”

  “Get that ass over here—now.”

  She frowned. “You’re going to have to make it quick though.”

  “Babe.”

  “We’ve got to make it fast, honey. I’ve got to meet up with Pete,” she whispered. “But, tonight, you will be making up for it in detail. You got that?”

  “Get rid of the clothes.”

  She stripped off, and I brought her down on her side and turned her, molding myself to her body from behind. I immediately drove my desperate cock inside her, grunting like a greedy, hungry beast. I plunged deeper, holding her upper thigh open, my fingers biting into her flesh. Her head rolled back, and she let out a harsh moan. I slowly pulled out of her slickness and then thrust back in deep.