Her tits bounce as I slam my hips into hers. My length bulges inside her. I can feel myself thrust when I lay a hand flat over her pussy, and I watch her face transform, mingled with pain and pleasure. The need to be into control, to twist and conform her body consumes my brain.
I lean her against the dash and pound her so hard, she braces her hands against the windshield. They slide, and so does her handprint. Maybe it’s the sight of it that makes me explode, or her tits bouncing, but the pressure escapes. It’s ripped out of me in a yell that’s swallowed by the aluminum walls.
Olivia falls forward, melting into my lap as she crushes her mouth against mine. I feel her tighten and pull as the flood of warmth spills around us. My chest tightens when she pulls back, looking at me through slitted eyes. Then a smile spreads across her flushed face.
Want her.
Can’t live without her.
The breath freezes in my lungs. I imagine her packing up to head to the city. My chest caves in at the thought. Falling for the city girl wasn’t my plan. I sure as hell didn’t mean to knock her up, but like some of the best things in life, it just happened. She fell into my lap like an autumn leaf, fragile but beautiful.
She kisses me, her eyes still closed to the panic winding through my soul.
I don’t want this to end.
Eleven
Olivia
Olivia,
It has come to my attention that you haven’t been fully engaged in your job for the last few weeks, and that your inattentiveness may be what caused Dreadis to pull out of our agency. Words cannot express how disappointed I am that we lost one of the biggest clients we have ever received.
You are done.
Well, that’s the briefest firing email I’ve ever seen.
A ripple of anger runs through me as I scan it again. Fully engaged? I requested two weeks off, and they gave it to me. That Evelyn bitch must have followed through on her promise to ruin my damn life.
I close the laptop, my heart fluttering.
Now you’re both jobless with a baby on the way. Well done.
This can’t go on. One of us has to have a job. My savings won’t be enough to cover the doctor visits, tests, prenatal vitamins, and the massive amount of food I’ll need.
He asked me what I wanted, and I told him the truth. I don’t know. Indecision haunts me as I leave the shelter of Gage’s house, which has started to feel like home in a way that San Francisco never has. Even though I still wear my skinny jeans and heels, people around here accepted me. Brenda stopped by with a cherry pie to thank me for helping her clean out the store.
Fresh paint gleams over the newly constructed storefront of Chocolate Covered Gifts and Things. There was someone to pitch in their services for everything—even the script painted on the glass. I walk into the strip mall, stopping when I see a black and white poster stapled to a tree. There’s a crude stick figure drawing of Evelyn and Mark, with horns growing out of their heads and pitchforks in their hands. It says in caps, “GET THEM OUT!”
I see more of them scattered around town, some of them affixed to doors. It’s probably one of the kids, but it still brings a smile to my lips. Everyone here has my back. Can’t say the same for the Cranburys.
My feet halt in front of the bakery where I’m supposed to meet Evelyn. She thinks she’s got us good and cornered.
She might be right.
The heavy feeling sinks lower, somewhere in my twisted bowels. I grab the door and yank it open, facing Evelyn’s back. She stands at the register.
The cashier is a surly, blond teenager named Timmy who makes a show of yawning in front of Evelyn’s face. “What?”
“I’d like some Earl Grey tea, please. And a blueberry scone.”
He narrows his eyes at her. “I’m not serving you.”
She purses her lips. “And why not?”
“It says there I have the right to refuse service to anyone.” He points toward the sign.
“But not without a reason.”
He doesn’t blink. “Because you’re a bitch, that’s why.”
I expect her to scream or have some kind of violent reaction. All she does is sigh.
“Can I at least have some hot water? And a lemon slice? I’ll pay you twenty dollars, for God’s