Checked Out

by Hazel James

  “In other words, you don’t want any evidence,” I teased, which got her to laugh.

  “Something like that.”

  I passed in front of her and twisted around to skate backward. With her gaze still safely on the ice, I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket and took a picture anyway. “Too late.”

  Her head snapped up, causing her to lose her balance. With her right hand still white-knuckling the perimeter, her left arm shot into the air and flailed helplessly as her feet skidded in awkward angles on the ice. Rather than swoop in to save her, I brought the heels of my hockey skates together to stop and waited for her to save herself.

  See, that was the weird thing about fear—when you were in the middle of it, it felt like you were drowning in the ocean. From the outside, it was much easier to see that you were only in knee-high water and all you had to do was stand up.

  Several seconds later, Tuesday gripped the ledge with her left hand and regained control of her feet. I pushed off from where I was standing and joined her on the wall. “And you didn’t even fall. This could be a new record.”

  She glanced around the rink at the other skaters. “I swear gravity is pulling on me twice as hard as everyone else. Or maybe it’s just more slippery over here.”

  “Nah, you’re just overthinking it.”

  “Says the guy who moves like he was born wearing ice skates.”

  I leaned in and waggled my brows. “You should see my moves off the ice.”

  “Pfft.” She rolled her eyes.

  I didn’t bother covering up my laughter. “That almost sounded convincing. Too bad those rosy cheeks of yours are telling on you.”

  “That’s because it’s cold outside.”

  “Mm hmm.” I leaned in again, this time to bring my mouth to hers. We were far enough away from everyone else to have a little privacy, so I took my time, deepening the kiss while slowly shifting away from the wall. Tuesday’s upper body followed on instinct and then her arms were around me. With step one completed, I took her hands in mine, linking our fingers together, and forced myself to pull away from her lips.

  Her lashes fluttered open and her mouth formed a small frown. “Hey, I was enjoying that.”

  “As was I, but I’m proving a point here.”

  “And that is…?”

  Time for step two. I let go of her hands and glided backward, putting a foot of space between us. “You were overthinking it. You’re perfectly capable of standing on the ice without falling.”

  Her eyes darted from her feet to the wall just behind her and back to me again. “Holy crap, you’re right.”

  I cupped my hand to my ear. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “Very funny.”

  “First she tells me I’m right, and then she tells me I’m funny. This is going down as the best date in history.” That made her grin, but the best part was, I wasn’t lying. We hadn’t even made it a quarter of the way around the rink and I couldn’t think of another date—or hell, another woman—that was better than everything I had in this moment.

  “Jack?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re staring at me.”

  “Just trying to figure out what I did to end up here with you. We’d better get some laps in before the universe realizes you’re too good for me and you vanish into thin air.” I snapped my fingers for effect. “Then I’ll be forced to skate by myself while everyone else passes by hand-in-hand with their date. A string quartet will play melancholic music in the distance and Morgan Freeman will start narrating a documentary about the sad state of my life.”

  Smiling, she brought her hands to her cheeks in mock horror. “Not a documentary.”

  I nodded. “The Loner of Palmer’s Outdoor Rink. But don’t worry, it’ll go on to win lots of awards at an indie film festival. I’ll walk the red carpet, alone of course, and the tabloids will print stories about the handsome man who had it all and lost it.”

  Soft golden waves hung down her back as she tipped her head to the sky and laughed. “And the previews will be nothing but Sarah McLachlan’s SPCA commercials.”

  “I still get misty-eyed when I think about the one with the beagle.” I wiped a fake tear, which made her laugh harder. When she finally settled, her eyes sparkled and something shifted inside my chest.

  I hadn’t thought about forever in a long time. Not since my ex dropped hints about marriage and definitely not after she left me for greener pastures with higher social statuses. From that point on, life was a series of focusing on one thing at a time—graduating with my master’s degree. Getting the hang of running a library. Building a bigger community footprint. But now that I’d had a small taste of life with Tuesday, forever was finally something worth thinking about.

  “Come on, it’s time for me to return the favor,” I said, holding my palms out.

  She cautiously put her hands in mine. “What favor?”

  “You helped me during my interview by giving me something else to focus on. Tonight, I’m doing the same thing for you.” With that, I tightened my grip and started skating backward, pulling her forward.

  She yelped and her arms went stiff like she was a zombie on ice. “Jack, I can’t skate!”

  “You’re not skating; you’re gliding. Just hold on and look at me instead of your feet.” I continued moving my skates in alternating half-circles, checking over my shoulder every so often to make sure I didn’t run into anyone. When we finished our first lap, I squeezed her hands. “See? It’s not so bad.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” As her comfort level increased, she started looking around and the smile on her face grew with each new thing she spotted—the garden lights criss-crossing the rink, the food truck off to the side serving hot chocolate and cookies, the teenagers in the center of the rink trying various tricks. She was so distracted that she didn’t realize her skates had started moving in tandem with mine.

  Pride coursed through me with each stroke of her feet. Was this why she was smiling so big when Blaine interviewed me? Because damn, I couldn’t wipe this grin off my face if I tried. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m right again.”

  “Yeah? About what?”

  “That you really do know how to skate.” I squeezed her hands once, then dropped them to let her fly solo. Her gaze immediately fell to the steady rhythm of her skates while I watched her eyes turn to saucers. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to take another picture, but by the time I focused on her face, her expression had gone from surprise to horror.

  “Jack watch out!”

  The next few seconds were a blur of flailing limbs, sharp pain, and curse words (mine of course) as we collapsed in a heap on the ice—her half on top of me, and me square on my ass. Abandoning my phone, my hands roamed all over Tuesday to check for injuries. “Are you okay? Did you break anything?”

  She appeared to be frozen silent, which frightened me until I realized she was so deep into her bout of laughter that she wasn’t making any noise except for the soft, rhythmic clicking sound coming from her throat. Finally, she rolled to her side and sucked in a breath. When more laughter came, I figured she was okay and worked to push both of us upright.

  “You should’ve seen… your face…” Tuesday said between giggles. “You looked… just like Gaston… from Beauty and the Beast… when he fell… off the castle…” She went wide-eyed and windmilled her arms, then launched into yet another round of laughter.

  “I’m glad my demise amuses you.”

  Tuesday alternated between wiping tears from her cheeks and fanning her hands in front of her face. “Between your expression and you low-key copping a feel of my left breast, I’d say everything about this moment amuses me.”

  Hang on. “When did I grab your boob?”

  “When you were feeling around for broken bones.”

  Damn. I stared at my palm, hoping it would help refresh my memory. It didn’t. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like a do-over on the part where I felt you up.” Her lips parted and her ey
es darkened, and suddenly, I didn’t care about my throbbing ass or whether she had any still-undiagnosed fractures or sprains. I just wanted to get home—her apartment or mine—and finish what my hand had unknowingly started.

  “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Are you two okay?” an older woman asked as she and her husband slowed to a stop beside us.

  I glanced up and nodded. “We’re fine, ma’am.”

  “See Jimmy? I told you it would fall off if you didn’t tie it.” With a soft sigh, the woman bent down and yanked a striped scarf from under my legs—presumably what I tripped over—and loosely knotted it around her husband’s neck. She continued nagging and fussing over him with a level of skill that came with decades of marriage, while I picked myself up, pocketed my phone, and reached for Tuesday, bringing her onto her skates beside me.

  “Thank God no one’s hurt,” the woman said. When the man didn’t speak, she gently whacked him in the stomach and whispered, “Jimmy.”

  “Yes, thank God,” he parroted, his eyes darting between the three of us and the ice. “Sorry about the scarf.”

  “It’s okay, we’re fine,” Tuesday said, giving the old couple a reassuring smile. We stood there in an awkward square for several seconds before the woman apologized again, took her husband’s hand, and bid us farewell.

  Their departure popped the bubble Tuesday and I had been in since we fell. We glanced around, remembering we were on a public skating rink with several dozen people whizzing by us. Shit. I gripped her waist and braced myself for the impending freakout after basically causing her to relive one of her worst memories. “Are you all right? I don’t think anyone’s paying attention to us.” I paused to scan the skaters. No one was stopped and no one had their phone aimed at us. Another bonus. “And I don’t think anyone got anything on camera, either.”

  “Dang, that’s a shame.”

  My head jerked back. “I’m sorry—a shame?”

  “That no one recorded your expression.” She mimicked my fall again, complete with wide-eyed panic and slow-motion distorted sound effects, but she managed to control her laughter this time. I wouldn’t have minded if she didn’t, though. Tuesday laughing meant she wasn’t dying of embarrassment, and that meant maybe our date was still salvageable.

  I slid my hands down her arms and linked my fingers with hers. “How about we grab some hot chocolate and get out of here?”

  “That sounds like a good idea. I banged up my knees when I fell and should probably take a look at them.”

  “Are you okay?” Her black jeans had holes in the thighs, but the fabric over her knees was intact.

  “It feels like they’re scraped a bit, but I’m not sure if they’re actually bleeding.”

  I pulled her to my chest and pressed a kiss on the side of her head. “I’m really sorry. I should’ve been watching where I was going. This wasn’t the kind of memory we were supposed to make tonight.”

  “I’m fine, I promise, but what about you? You landed right on your butt.” Her hands slid down my back and gently rubbed said butt. Who knew G-rated language could be so sexy?

  “That’s making it feel better,” I murmured into her coconut-scented hair, “but you need to stop before I start throbbing in other areas.”

  When she pulled away, her teeth were pressed into her bottom lip. “Did you have your heart set on hot chocolate?”

  “No.”

  “Good,” she whispered as she fisted my shirt and brought her mouth to mine. “Take me home.”

  It took thirty-five torturous minutes to get from the rink to Tuesday’s front door. Taylor greeted us as I flipped the deadbolt, but we both ignored her for far more interesting things like toeing off our shoes, yanking off our jackets, and me feasting on the soft skin below Tuesday’s jaw.

  “Hold on.” She pushed me away long enough to bring her sweater up over her head, dropping it somewhere I couldn’t see because my eyes were glued to her hot-as-fuck bra.

  “You wore this for me?” I asked, running a finger underneath the satin strap. This wasn’t sweet, innocent pink. This was deep, lustful pink. I-plan-on-screwing-your-brains-out pink. My-new-favorite-color pink.

  Her mouth said, “Maybe,” but her hooded gaze said abso-fucking-lutely. I groaned my approval as my cock strained against the confines of its denim prison. “I also wore this.” She unbuttoned her jeans and slowly pulled them down, revealing a tiny scrap of matching satin. Before I could help her the rest of the way, she turned, giving me the perfect view of her perfect ass and the G-string resting between her cheeks.

  “Jesus Christ, woman.”

  She tossed a wicked grin my way, then slid her jeans down her legs and pulled her feet free. My hands instinctively gripped her hips and maneuvered her to the couch, bending her over the armrest. Her choice of lingerie and silky-smooth legs told me sex was on her mind hours ago as she was getting ready for our date, and damn if that didn’t make me want to sink my dick into her right here on the couch.

  Thankfully, I had a shred of self-control left. My first time with Tuesday was only happening once, and I planned on enjoying every fucking second of it—starting with getting rid of her barely-there excuse for panties. She rolled her hips as I splayed my hands across the small of her back and over the curves of her ass, gripping the strings of her thong and finishing the glorious task of undressing her lower half.

  Her pussy was already slick, making it easy to sink one finger inside, then two. She felt just as incredible as she did in my kitchen a couple of days ago, but this time I got to see the rest of her too. The way her golden waves spilled over her shoulder. The way her back arched when I leaned forward and slid my free hand over her satin bra, teasing her nipple into a tight peak while I gently pumped in and out. Fuck, she was beautiful.

  “Jack,” she whispered, her voice strained with need. I knew what she wanted. I also knew this was far better than any of the fantasies I’d had in the past few weeks, and taking my time was getting more impossible by the second. She needed to come soon—for both our sakes.

  I twisted my wrist so I could rub her clit with the pad of my thumb. Her head shot up and her hands squeezed the cushions. Watching her react to my movements was ungodly sexy, and for a brief moment I feared I’d hit my head on the ice and this was only a dream. If that was the case, I wasn’t ever waking up. I’d gladly sacrifice everything I had in the real world to live in this little slice of heaven forever.

  Except Taylor apparently wanted to live here too. She stated as much when she hopscotched from the floor to the coffee table to Tuesday’s back, sitting between her shoulder blades and staring at me as if to say, Excuse me, I require my human’s attention. Tuesday swatted at the cat, but rather than scamper off to do whatever it was cats did, Taylor plopped down, extended her leg, and started licking herself. I was pretty sure it was the feline equivalent of flipping the bird. “Oh my God, are you serious right now?” Tuesday flailed her arms again. When that didn’t work, she gave up and looked at me over her shoulder. “Will you please get her off?”

  “Well, I’d rather get you off, but if you insist…” I chuckled, partly at my witty response and partly because I was knuckle-deep in my girlfriend while her cat performed kitty fellatio in my face. None of my fantasies had prepared me for this. I scooped up the cat and gently deposited her at my feet, giving her a friendly pat on the head before shooing her away.

  “Now, where were we?” My question sounded a little awkward coming off my lips, but I don’t think they made elegant transitions for people in our situation. Thankfully Tuesday didn’t seem to notice because my fingers were back in action, working her body up. I leaned forward again, nipping and kissing along her spine while inhaling the perfume that lingered on her skin. She was so soft and so beautiful and so— “Fuck!”

  Tuesday’s head jerked around as she stood, forcing me to remove my hand. “What happened?”

  “Talons and razorblades happened.” I gestured to my jeans and the cat currently climbing the front of
my right leg. Was it possible to be desperate for one pussy and pissed at another?

  Tuesday laughed, though she at least had the decency to cover her mouth. “I’ve never seen her act like this. But you know… she wouldn’t be able to do that if you weren’t wearing pants.”

  “You make a good point.”

  She shrugged. “It’s a fair suggestion considering what I’m wearing.”

  She was wearing nothing but her pink satin bra and looked fucking spectacular. I started to joke about how that was my new favorite outfit, but all that came out was “Ow!” when Taylor reached the tender skin of my upper thigh. “Fine, cat, you win. You want the jeans, you can have the jeans. Just leave my dick alone.”

  Still giggling, Tuesday plucked Taylor from my leg and dropped her on the floor while I set my wallet on the arm of the couch, took off my pants, and threw them across the living room. Hopefully that would occupy the cat so Tuesday and I could escape to her bedroom.

  “You’re still not naked,” she playfully chided, gripping my cock through my boxer briefs.

  I was impossibly hard, and this was torture in its purest form. I sucked in a deep breath to keep from groaning. “Neither are you.”

  With her gaze fixed on me, she reached around and unclasped her bra, revealing the most perfect pair of tits I’d ever laid eyes on. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and I stopped thinking about her crazy-ass cat the second she slid my boxer briefs to the floor and took me in her mouth.

  I threaded my fingers through her hair to prove to myself that this was real. She was really here, in front of me, on her knees… Shit! Her knees! “Your knees!”

  Tuesday paused mid-bob and glanced up. Her brows inched together, and then she sat back on her heels. “So, is this a sexual fetish thing where you start shouting body parts while I give you a blow job?”

  I breathed out a laugh and shook my head. “I don’t have any sexual fetishes. I just forgot about checking your knees and now I feel like a huge asshole.”

  “I saw them when I was taking my pants off. They’re fine, see?” She stood to give me a look. They were a little pink, but no scrapes, which made me feel better. So did kissing her and whispering the things I wanted to do to her body. In seconds, she was in my arms with her legs wrapped around my waist. “Bedroom. Now.”