Happy Accidents

A short story by Aiden Marks

Isaiah Regan hit the crosswalk button, ignoring his coworkers’ pleas to stay out drinking. “You guys go on without me.” 

While it was only seven, and the early September air was still warm and filled with a swirling array of food truck aromas, Isaiah had no interest in staying out. He also had no interest in going back to his apartment. 

His coworkers didn’t need much encouragement to continue without him. Nikki spared him one last look and offered, “Congrats again on the promotion.”

Isaiah hoped his smile appeared sincere. “Thanks. Still have to give the presentation tomorrow though.”

“Just don’t think too much about it. Trust your gut and you’ll nail it.”

“Thanks.”

Isaiah took a deep breath as he walked down the street. Twelve hours and a PowerPoint later—assuming it went well—he would be a mid-thirties director with a salary that would pad his already significant savings. That hadn’t been the goal ten years ago when he was fresh out of college and naïve about life. The plan seemed simple: graduate, get a job, get a better job, buy a house, start a family, get an even better job—Isaiah ran a hand across the back of his neck. Maybe if he had done the family bit while climbing the ladder it would feel different.  

Rather than carry on, Isaiah shuffled to a nearby bench and allowed the day’s weight to yank him down. He watched as people passed by, imagining their lives, their moods, while they held their phones out to document everything they did. If it wasn’t online, it never really happened. 

Isaiah put his head in his hands only to have his thoughts shattered by the sudden crunch of metal on metal. Half-thinking he imagined it, he lifted his head and felt his stomach drop. 

Less than twenty feet away, an older coupe had hit an SUV. The vehicles sat in the road, bent at an awkward angle. The coupe’s blinker flashed continuously, reflecting off a sea of broken glass scattered across the pavement. A brunette woman who couldn’t have been more than a few years off Isaiah’s own age shouldered open her dented driver’s door and stumbled from the car. She brushed her hands on the thighs of her jeans. 

Isaiah wanted to spring up and help, but he couldn’t seem to move. Someone shouted. People rushed down the sidewalk.

A man jumped out of the SUV, arms in the air, shaking with frustration. Steam hissed from beneath the coupe’s hood. Seemingly unharmed, the woman cursed and pulled out her phone. Isaiah watched as people peppered her with questions, their faces slowly becoming cast in the red and blue hues of police lights. The woman, dressed in a loose flannel, jeans, and a pair of black boots, seemed more annoyed than shaken.

Isaiah stood on the sidewalk as a crew of EMTs jumped from the back of an ambulance. After the police had asked their questions, most of the crowd began to disperse. As the woman gave an officer her information, she glanced in Isaiah’s direction, making eye contact more than once. His cheeks heated, and he felt like an idiot to be caught staring. A few seconds later he risked another glance, and she was still looking at him, cocking her head and narrowing her eyes. He offered her a reassuring smile. 

Her flannel shirt hung open slightly, and whether due to the cold or nerves or something else entirely, her nipples were visible against her black tank top beneath. Isaiah quickly looked away and returned to the bench while a tow truck pulled up to the wreck.

****

With her car on the back of a flatbed, and the last cop in his cruiser typing something on his computer, the woman trudged over to the bench and sat next to Isaiah. Her eyes were smudged with navy eyeshadow. 

“So,” she asked. “Gonna tell me your name?”

“I’m sorry?” he said, flustered. “Uh—it’s Isaiah.”

He held out a hand, and she laughed. “Olivia. So, is this like your bench or something? Or did you just hang around out of boredom? Or are you a creep? Because that cop is still here you know.”

He shrugged. “Honestly? Couldn’t tell you—except about the creep thing. I’m not a creep. Just felt like the right thing to do? Even though I didn’t really do anything.”

“And was it?”

“Was it what?”

“The right thing to do.” 

“Jury’s still out.” 

She seemed amused by his response. The hint of a smile was on her face.

 “What’s got you driving through?” he asked.

“What gave it away?” she asked.

He pointed to her and smiled. “Accent. Definitely not New York or Boston.” 

She frowned. “I don’t have an accent.”

“I mean…” 

“Ugh,” she said and flopped back against the bench. Had she shifted closer to him in the process? “Alright, you got me. I’m supposed to be in Boston tomorrow afternoon. A friend lined up an interview for me—was this whole thing. Hence why I’m here and not in South Dakota.”

“Sounds like a pretty good deal,” Isaiah said.

She cracked her neck back and forth, eyeing him in the process. “Yeah, I guess.” 

She didn’t turn away while she waited for him to say something more. “How come you didn’t fly?”

She shrugged. “I don’t plan on going back, so I figured, hey, why not see a bit of this place along the way?”

Isaiah wanted to pry. The idea of not going home ever again was fascinating to him, but she still looked shaken from the accident and he didn’t want to pester her with questions. Without giving himself time to lose his nerve, he took his shot. “Do you want to get a drink? Figure out your next move and all that?”

Olivia took a few seconds, probably gauging whether or not he was going to kidnap her. He was about to break the awkward silence when she spoke. 

“Sure, why not?”

****

Isaiah took her to a place called Bridges, some ode to the rivers that ran through the former mill town. Televisions hung on most of the walls, all set to various sports except for one reality show he didn’t recognize. Strips of amber LEDs cast the high-tops and pool tables in a warm, cozy glow. Framed pictures of bridges, mills, and rivers hung between the TVs. They snagged a pair of seats at the end of the bar. Olivia winced as she eased herself onto the stool. 

“Painful?” Isaiah asked.

“Getting there. Just a bit sore.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to get checked out or something?”

Olivia waved away his concern and nodded at the approaching bartender. “Can I have a margarita, please. With salt.”

Isaiah looked at the bottles of liquor behind the bar and said, “Uh, I’ll do a Jameson, neat, please. ” He snagged a menu from behind the bar and asked Olivia if she wanted to split something. 

She shrugged as pool balls clacked behind her. “Can never go wrong with nachos?” 

When the bartender returned with their drinks they ordered food, both simultaneously asking for extra sour cream and grinning at the coincidence. 

“So,” Isaiah asked, “Why a job in Boston?”

“Figured it might be a little different from the Midwest.”

“Well, I’ve never been out there but I can’t imagine it’s anything like the city. Might be tough for you. You know, driving-wise.” He smirked playfully. 

Olivia raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. “Are you saying that because of the crash or that I couldn’t handle a big city because I’m from some cowtown?”

The curve of her lips encouraged him. “A little of both.” 

 She pointed a finger at him. “First of all, that accident wasn’t my fault. Second of all … the Boston thing, maybe. A little.” 

“Have you ever been to Boston?”

“No… But I’ve driven in plenty of cities.”

Isaiah grabbed a napkin and a pen from his pocket. He drew a neat grid of lines, like a tic-tac-toe board. “That’s how a normal city looks—you know, blocks and stuff.”

“Are you seriously explaining what a city is to me right now?”

He smiled. “Just wait.”

Isaiah took the pen and scribbled a bunch of twisting lines over one another until the napkin started to tear. “That is how Boston looks. A purely fuck-you spaghetti mess of good luck getting out of here.”

“Oh. Great.” She shook her head. “Well, hopefully I get stuck somewhere good. Now, I just have to figure out how to get there.”

“Can you do the interview virtually?” Isaiah asked. 

“Maybe? I mean, I guess if I asked, I don’t really want to take the chance and put a bad taste in their mouth though.” She unbuttoned her flannel until it hung fully open, fanning herself a few times with one side of it. “They got the heat on already?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit warm,” Isaiah agreed. It wasn’t that hot. But she was halfway through her margarita, so maybe she was just feeling a flush from the alcohol and sugar. Whatever the reason, it distracted him. The tank top hugged her skin, and it was clear she wasn’t wearing a bra. He could see the soft curves of her breasts beneath the thin material and the way it tented over her nipples. He imagined the feel of them against his palm, flicking them with his—

Isaiah cleared his throat and finished his whiskey. 

“Another round?” he asked. 

“Yes, please. I have a feeling I’m going to be sore as hell soon and if I can delay that inevitability it would be wonderful.”

“What do you think you’re going to do? About tomorrow?”

“I texted the friend I was meeting to see if she could pick me up but she’s on the overnight so there goes that… I’m not sure, but I don’t think there’s a train or anything that’ll get me there?”

He let out an exaggerated laugh. “What, you think we’re in Europe or something? Reliable public transport and all?”

“Never been. I’ve actually never even been on a plane.”

“That can’t be true.”

“It is!” she laughed, covering her mouth with a hand. Her nails were painted dark red. 

“Mhm.” Isaiah thought about what it would be like to accompany Olivia on her first ever trip through Logan airport, ending up together somewhere far away. He shook his head to rattle the idea free. “You’ll have to change that then. There’s an awfully big airport in Boston you know. Might even have a plane big enough to go over the ocean.” 

She playfully smacked his shoulder. “Ow, damn it. That’s supposed to hurt you, not me.”

“You need some Advil and a hot shower.”

“Already took the Advil, and I’m working on the shower part. Any good hotels in this place?”

“Um, yeah I think there’s one at the end of Main Street.”

“Guess that’ll be the one then.”

They grabbed the check, Isaiah refusing to let her pay despite her attempts. Outside, the air had chilled and greeted them like a refreshing glass of water. Olivia moved slowly, favoring her left side.

“Here.” Isaiah held his arm out. “I’ll walk with ya.”

She snickered. “How chivalrous.”

Olivia linked her arm with his. Her perfume smelled like warm spring flowers.

As they walked, Olivia used her phone to book a room. From side streets came the metallic clang of recyclables being dumped. 

“Thanks for tonight,” she said, slipping her arm from his. “I think it was good to kind of decompress there for a few.” 

“Of course,” Isaiah said. “Glad to be here. Happy to have met you.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him and scoffed. “Happy I crashed my car are you?”

Isaiah froze. Had he really just said that? “No, what I meant—I didn’t mean like happy you crashed.”

“I’m messing with you,” Olivia said, turning to face him. “Here’s to happy accidents.” 

A wave of relief passed through him. Before he could reply, she leaned forward and kissed him. Isaiah pulled back, startled. Their eyes met and dismay flashed across Olivia’s face. The sight of her disappointment lit his nerves on fire.  

He quickly placed a hand on the back of her neck and pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him back enthusiastically, and he could taste the salty tang of margarita mix on her tongue. 

It wasn’t until Olivia withdrew, and they both laughed nervously like college kids caught in the stairwell of their dorm, that he realized his mind had gone blank during their kiss. For the first time in weeks, he hadn’t been thinking of anything.         

He looked at her in amazement, wondering if the glimmer in her eyes or the soft feel of her lips against his had been what allowed him to let go.  

“Would love to maybe do something sometime if you end up staying in Boston,” Isaiah said. He wanted nothing more than to keep this night from ending, but a kiss on the sidewalk wasn’t an invitation for it to continue. 

Olivia kissed his cheek and smiled. “Why don’t you help me find my room and we can worry about what to do in Boston later?”

****

The room was at the end of a hall on the second floor. A pair of vending machines hummed nearby. When they reached her door, Isaiah hesitated. 

“You’re good, right?”

“Kinda starting to feel it. My back and my hip are getting pretty sore.”

“No, I meant …” He moved his hands awkwardly. “With the drinks and stuff, you know.”

Her face lit up and her smile grew. “What do you mean?”

His cheeks heated. “Uh—you know…”

Her grin widened, and it became clear she knew exactly what he was trying to say. “We’re good. Besides, I don’t think I’m up for anything vigorous. I was just hoping you might help me with that shower. Would hate to slip and fall. Probably break every bone in my body at this point.” 

Isaiah glanced down the hall, half expecting someone to be there with a gotcha sign, but it was just kaleidoscope carpeting and a pair of vending machines. At some point, he had forgotten what passion and desire felt like; it was ivy curling around him and tightening, pulling him irrevocably forward. 

“Let’s make sure you don’t fall then.” 

****

While the room was nice, it was too quiet, a contradiction to the noises outside. Isaiah found the television remote and flipped through until he found another reality show reminiscent of the one in the bar, turning the volume down until it was a background murmur. A bubbling brook for city folk. 

Olivia pulled a robe from the hanger near the door and tossed it on the bed. She bent forward to unlace her boots—black Chelsea's scuffed to no end. “Whoo,” she said and leaned forward. “Leg’s cramping a bit.” 

“Here—” He helped her to the bathroom, sitting her down on the edge of the tub. 

“Thanks,” she said, propping her palms on the white porcelain and watching him. 

He tugged off her sock and lowered her foot to his thigh, rubbing his thumb along the arch. Isaiah glanced up; Olivia pursed her lips and blew him a kiss.

With the other sock off, Isaiah stood and leaned past her to turn on the tap. When he straightened up, Olivia was staring at his crotch, her face only a few inches from his jeans     . 

Isaiah cleared his throat. “Uh, do you want a shower or a bath?”

“Oh,” she said, as if thinking about it for the first time. “Actually, a bath would be amazing. Do you think they have bubble stuff in the vending machine?”

He smirked. “You want to take a bubble bath?”

“Why not? Can you check?”

Olivia tried to pout but her lips betrayed her, each end curling into a goofy grin. 

“Ok, ok, I’m going,” he reassured, laughing at her goofy grin. 

As it turned out, the vending machine did have bubble bath mix. 

“How about that?” He bought a bottle and hesitated, eyeing the condoms hanging from another row. “Couldn’t hurt.” 

Outside the room, Isaiah paused and took a few deep breaths. He fidgeted with the front of his jeans, trying to hide the bulge that had begun to form. How this was actually happening, he had no idea. He checked the time—after midnight—and groaned. God, tomorrow’s gonna suck. 

His back went stiff. Tomorrow. The fucking presentation. 

“Shit.”

If tomorrow didn’t go well, it would end the vertical movement. Derail the goals he had set, believing them to be the only path to a successful life. 

He pressed the room key to the reader and went inside. The water was still running. Steam curled out of the bathroom like slow-moving fog.

“Olivia?” He knocked on the half-open bathroom door. “They actually did have—"

Isaiah froze, unable to take his eyes from her, fully naked in the tub, the water rippling over her skin. Her knees were bent and leaning toward the wall. A bruise had begun to bloom on her thigh. Little waves formed when she moved, her nipples playing now you see me. He lifted the little bottle of bubble bath and winked.

“Great!” she said. “Can you put it in? I’m sure you’ve seen a naked woman before. Shouldn’t be that surprising.” 

Can I put it in? That had to be intentional. 

He had seen naked women before, but never one this beautiful or this brazen. Seeing her in the water, he suddenly understood the myths of sirens. Desire flooded through him, but it was more than the physical response of his cock. Olivia offered him the heady sensation of spontaneity and freedom. 

He dropped to his knees, harder than he intended. Olivia laughed and splashed water on him, soaking his shirt and pants. He wanted to tear his clothes off, wanted to feel her skin against his, to gently kiss where she was injured as he trailed his tongue up her leg. 

Olivia lifted her foot, water dripping from her heel, and touched her toe to the tip of his nose. Isaiah playfully nibbled on her toe. She giggled and hit her palm on the water. As he poured the mix in, bubbles pooled beneath the spout and drifted toward her like foamy icebergs. The first rested between her breasts, clinging softly to her skin. 

“This was an incredible idea, so thank you,” she said.

“I’ve done very little.”

“Come closer,” she motioned to the floor. 

Isaiah scooted down, resting his arm on the side of the tub. He lowered his hand to the water, brushing the side of her thigh with his fingers. When she didn’t pull away, he did it again, trying to keep his hand from shaking as his nerves flared beneath his skin. His mouth was suddenly dry. It took a few seconds, a few more gentle strokes on her thigh, for him to ask if she was in any pain from the accident.

“Could be worse. Could be better. Feels kind of like a dull headache. You know, if my entire body was my head.”

Bubble patches floated by, lazily clinging to her exposed skin. Olivia rocked her knees side to side, swaying in the water. 

Tomorrow’s going to suck. The thought pierced through him. For a second he let it, but then he met Olivia’s gaze. She moved her hips, maneuvering so his hand was no longer against her thigh, but resting gently against her pussy. Painstakingly slowly, so as to savor every sensation of what she felt like under his palm, Isaiah cupped her and pressed more firmly against her. She had been watching him intently, but at this she seemed to go somewhere inside herself. She closed her eyes and her breath caught in her throat. 

Olivia’s lips parted, allowing a soft moan to escape as she slowly rocked her hips. He matched her movement, pressing against her as she pushed forward. His cock grew hard and desire ate through his insides, rising until it was all that was left. 

Isaiah leaned toward her and coyly nipped her shoulder. “Best part of a bath is getting into bed after.”

He held out his hand and helped Olivia to her feet. Water ran from her body and splashed into the tub. Her skin glistened, and Isaiah marveled, unable to look away. She was truly gorgeous, from the lean muscles of her legs and arms to the healthy curves of her ass and softer curves of her breasts. Water dripped from her erect nipples. Isaiah bit the inside of his cheek, wanting nothing more than to put his mouth on each one and taste the leftover water on her skin. A faint tan line added a subtle glow to the stubble above her pussy. Isaiah wanted to feel it on his tongue, a coarse prelude to a sweet dessert. 

He could hear her breathing, short exhalations from her nose. Olivia dragged her teeth across her bottom lip and everything in his mind aside from her disappeared. 

Isaiah wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her deeply, using his other hand to prevent them from tumbling backward into the wall of the tub. Olivia put her arms around his neck as he lifted her out of the tub. Rather than be put down, she wrapped her legs around his waist, sending soap suds down his shirt and jeans. His breath caught as his cock ached to be released, to feel how wet she really was.

A few more steps and they were at the bed. Isaiah lowered Olivia down, already trailing her body with his lips. She moaned softly as he playfully teased her nipples with just the faintest touch of his teeth. 

Olivia sat up and tugged at his shirt, but Isaiah countered, holding both her hands in his and raising them above her head before guiding her back down. He pressed her wrists against the bed. Olivia giggled and squirmed as he continued to press his lips to her skin, lower and lower, only slowing when he felt the stubble of her pubic hair. He looked up at her and smiled, holding eye contact as he eased himself lower, finally touching the tip of his tongue to her clit. 

The taste of her, seductively sour and raw, was intoxicating. Her body seemed to fuel him, push him to realize what he wanted and what he wanted was to taste more of her. To lick every bit of her pussy, her swollen clit and both sets of smooth lips. He slipped his tongue between them, pushing into her as far as he could.

Olivia dug her nails into his back and raked them down  his shoulder blades, eliciting a moan from him as she wrapped her thighs tight around his head. He licked the length of her pussy, finding her clit again, grazing it gently with his teeth, relishing the heat that pulsed in his dick when she squirmed, wanting more. She pressed herself into his mouth, rubbing her clit against his lips. His cock tensed, waiting and more than ready. 

Olivia’s breathing intensified; one hand in his hair, the other squeezing a fistful of sheets,      gripping harder with each passing second. Isaiah sucked on her clit and pressed his tongue flat to her lips, only allowing the very tip to slip between them. 

It was enough to get her there. 

Her thighs locked on the sides of his head, pressing his ears flat. Short, desperate moans escaped her mouth as she pulled at his hair, grinding her hips against his lip and tongue. Her breath came quicker while he played his mouth across her, holding her hips steady as she bucked and squirmed, until finally she tensed one final time and cried out, her pussy pulsing against his lips as she came. 

Olivia untangled her fingers from his hair and tried to pull him toward her. He held up a finger and reached into his pocket for a condom, his face flush and warm as he caught his breath.  

“Hold on,” she said. “Come here first.”

Isaiah raised an eyebrow but obeyed, leaning forward as Olivia sat up and kissed him. Her tongue in his mouth, Isaiah felt his belt loosen and unbuckle. His pants and underwear slid to the floor, the air cool on his exposed skin. Olivia wrapped soft fingers around his cock and slowly stroked him, the sudden touch causing him to jut his hips forward and groan in pleasure. 

Olivia laid back and spread her legs, her heels on the edge of the bed. She pulled him toward her until the head of his cock pressed against her clit. Her pussy was still slick with his saliva and her own wetness. She began rubbing his cock against her clit, her eyes locked on his as she did so. She used him as a toy for her own pleasure, grinding him against her, the sensation of her skin against the underside of his cock almost enough to make him cum then and there. 

There was no going back; and he wouldn’t want to, even if he could. There wasn’t one assignment or raise or promotion that could top this whirlwind woman and the hold she had on him—figuratively or literally.     

Olivia closed her eyes and bit her lip, rubbing him against herself faster and faster. The thought of her using him to get off like this, coming twice before he’d even done so once turned him on even more than he’d thought possible. Isaiah bent forward and cupped each of her breasts. In turn, she squeezed his cock harder and whispered into his ear, “I want you inside me.”

He kissed her, cupping her face with his hands, his thumbs rubbing the soft skin below her eyes as he tried to keep himself from collapsing on her. For the first time in longer than he could remember, no one else was telling him what he should want. Isaiah’s erect cock ached with what he did want.

Olivia threw her head back against the bed and sighed. Isaiah rolled on the condom and stood over her, taking her in. Her skin seemed to glow in the dim light. Covered in a sheen of sweat, her breasts were rising and falling with each quickened breath. 

Seconds passed and Olivia looked at him, face twisting in confusion. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah—yeah.” Isaiah shook himself free of his thoughts and smiled. “Just… admiring you. You’re absolutely beautiful.” 

Olivia’s eyes glowed. She smiled and crooked a finger, beckoning him towards her. “Come here.”

He guided himself inside her and the warmth of her body enveloped his cock, seeping into his very being. His entire body buzzed as if he were stoned. Olivia moaned as he thrust into her. Gradually, finding rhythm, Isaiah moved a little faster, and watched as her fingers gripped the bedsheets, her tits moving in time with his hips. As he fucked her, the hotel room darkened and blurred around him. There was nothing outside of them, their bodies simultaneously giving and taking, completely open and alive. 

Olivia guided his hand to her mouth and began sucking on his thumb. Isaiah looked to the ceiling and closed his eyes, the sound of their bodies slapping together an erotic metronome. She bit his thumb and when he didn’t pull away, pressed her teeth down harder. 

The twinge of pain and pressure nearly pushed him over the edge, but he wasn’t ready to lose control. He pulled his hand from her mouth and reached behind her head, gripping a handful of her hair. She immediately groaned, causing Isaiah to tighten his grip. 

Oliva wrapped an arm around his back, pulling him into a sloppy, hungry kiss. Isaiah broke away and dropped his lips to her nipple, sucking and tasting salty sweat on her skin. He straightened up, feeling her tighten around his cock, her whole body tensing as she grunted into the crook of his neck. Olivia held him tighter, her pussy squeezing and pulsing against his cock as she came a final time. 

Isaiah came seconds later, heat pulsing through and out of him as the sensation enveloped his cock and groin, draining his energy along with it. He pulled out of her, and collapsed onto the bed with a gentle whoomph. Part of him didn’t want to catch his breath; his desire to stay in the moment—adrenaline coursing and sweat dripping—fought his body’s attempts at relaxing. He rolled to his side and slid off the condom, the latex snapping his sticky shaft. 

“So,” Olivia said after catching her breath. “Is this what you wanted to do with me in Boston?”

Isaiah rolled closer, taking in her beauty and the salty-sweet scent of what they’d done together. His nerves were live wires, not from the cold of anxiety but from the swirling warmth of excitement. Excitement at the thought of being around her, and not the sterile path he had been headed down thus far. 

He kissed her shoulder and said, “I could drive you up there in the morning and we can find out.”