A Woman Ignored (A Woman Lost Book 2)

by T. B. Markinson

  I went out with the teachers one night, and only one night. High school teachers had a special bond, and for some reason, they loved the job—mostly. I taught at a university while I was finishing my PhD. I preferred prep work to lecturing, which was why I decided to write stuffy books few would read. The speaking gigs helped me pay the bills. Then there was my trust fund.

  “Well, Shirley got a tad bit tipsy, but nothing outrageous happened.” Sarah unzipped her skirt and I watched as it slithered to the ground. “How’s your mood?”

  “Why?”

  “I need to tell you something, and I’m not sure you’ll be all that thrilled,” she confessed, looking guilty.

  “Huh. Is that why I’m getting a mini striptease right now?” I raised my eyebrows.

  “Maybe.” She began to unbutton her shirt, slowly, like a stripper, and then stopped teasing.

  “Don’t stop. I’m sure it’ll help your cause.”

  “You’re horrible.”

  “Me? You’re using sex to get me to do something.”

  “And you’re complaining. Why?”

  I sat up in bed to get a better view. “Good point.” I pretended to seal my lips shut and throw away the key.

  “That’s a good girl.” Sarah eased onto my lap, and I popped open the last few buttons on her blouse.

  A full moon shined brightly through the windows, so I switched my reading lamp off. The moonlight danced over Sarah’s milky skin. I traced the flickering light from her chest to her stomach with one finger.

  Goosebumps appeared on her body.

  “Are you cold?”

  She shook her head, a sexy smile on her lips. “Not one bit.”

  I leaned in to kiss her. Her lips felt moist, soft; the taste of beer clung to her tongue. “Who drove you home?” I asked, when we stopped for a breath.

  Sarah shook her head. “Don’t worry, I didn’t drive. Now, shush.” She smothered my mouth with hers, her passion undeniable. Overcome with excitement, I rolled her onto her back and climbed on top of her.

  “Easy there. We have all night.”

  “I missed you,” I whispered. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week, with all the traveling back and forth.” I cupped her breast, watching her nipple redden and start to harden. I licked it gently, and it stood to attention in my mouth.

  Trailing my right hand down the side of Sarah’s body, I stopped at her ass, pulling her hips against mine. Body heat radiated from us, as Sarah slid her arms up to rip off my tank top. I stared into her eyes, unable to contemplate ever losing her.

  Maybe she sensed my thought. One hand on my cheek, she whispered, “I love you, Lizzie. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The words I was desperate to hear. How badly I needed to believe that. We kissed, tenderly but forcefully, as though it might be the last time we ever made love. Everything of late reminded me that it was better to live in the now; who knew what lurked around the corner?

  My tongue explored her body, stopping only briefly in one spot as I descended. The insistent movement of her pelvis told me she wanted me there, but I ignored her plea. My tongue and hands explored her long, slim legs, not stopping until I reached her toes, so tiny and perfectly round.

  She loved it when I kissed her toes and the soles of her feet. A spot on her lower back also drove her crazy; that was my next stop.

  Rolling her over, I massaged her firm buttocks, occasionally placing a kiss here and there, my lips moving up to that special spot, which I kissed and bit tenderly.

  Sarah let out a low, satisfied grumble. A pillow over her head muffled the sound. I traced the muscles of her shoulders and neck, and then kneaded them, surprised by how tense they were. My tongue flicked her earlobe and carried on its exploration.

  She groaned. She wanted me now. Her hips gyrated and I heard her whisper, “please” from under the pillow.

  It made me chuckle. “Okay, okay, roll over again.”

  Her eyes were huge, dark, and pleading as I lay beside her. She wanted me to make love to her. I ran my hand down over her breasts and stomach and then slipped a finger inside her, slowly, loving how warm she was, how moist. As I pushed deeper, Sarah arched her back and closed her eyes. I added another finger and moved in and out of her with more force, matching the rhythm of her rocking hips, pushing against her movement.

  Her reaction to my being inside her always excited me. I moaned and plunged in deeper still. Sarah groaned, and before I knew it, she was inside me, too. Both of us frantically fingering in and out, deeper and deeper. Sarah was slippery with sex, each movement of my fingers against her slickening my hand. I felt the warmth of my own excitement, wet on her curled, constantly fucking fingers.

  “Oh, Jesus!” I shouted. She was already taking me there with her touch. I couldn’t hold on.

  Her body trembled as much as mine, and her moan in my ear was satisfied. Then she collapsed on her back, exhausted, thighs quivering. I fell back too, one arm over her, my fingers still damp. Sex scented the room. I inhaled the intoxicating fragrance of it, deeply.

  “Are you asleep?” I prayed she wasn’t.

  “No,” she whispered contentedly.

  “Good.” I moved down the bed. My hands spread her thighs again, stroking their still-quivering paleness, and then my tongue lapped her clit.

  Sarah groaned as I thrust my tongue inside her. She arched her back, circled her hips. It wouldn’t take her long to come again, but I wanted to taste her. She reached down until her nails scored my shoulders, but I ignored the pain and continued lapping at her clit. I could never tire of her taste; it made my own clit throb with desire.

  Sarah’s grip on my shoulders intensified. She pulled me up, drawing my head back to hers, to kiss me. I slid up her body, skin on skin, clit on clit. I rubbed my clitoris against hers, both of us moaning through our kisses. I felt the tension that comes before release, Sarah’s body winding itself tight before her orgasm gushed through her body. She dug her head deep into the mattress, pulling the pillow over her face to muffle her scream.

  Her scream set me off, and I felt myself coming once again, too. Lights cavorted behind my eyes, and I nestled my face into Sarah’s neck, letting out a long, contented sigh.

  Spent, I rolled onto my side to reach for my Nalgene bottle filled with ice water. Sarah snatched it playfully, and took a long draw. Handing it to me, she said, “I love it when we fuck like that.” With a sigh she collapsed back onto the bed, her hair mussed around that beautiful face.

  I nodded in agreement and drank heavily from the water bottle. Settled on the bed next to her, I pulled her close. She rested her tousled head on my breast and stroked her fingers up and down my skin.

  “Can I tell you the news now?” she teased.

  I laughed. “Sure, I’m your prisoner now.”

  Resting her chin on my chest, she gazed into my eyes. “I promised Ethan we’d meet him and his family at Chuck E. Cheese’s tomorrow, for Casey’s fourth birthday.”

  “That was what you were afraid to tell me.” I teased a tangle out of her chestnut hair.

  “Yes.”

  “Dude, I’m so going to kick your ass at Skee-Ball.”

  “Oh, you’re on, missy.”

  “Can you pretend that you still need to butter me up?” I winked.

  “And why is that?” Hooded eyes told me she understood perfectly.

  “Because I’m not done with you.”

  “Good!”

  * * *

  Walking into Chuck E. Cheese’s was quite an experience. The door opened onto a cacophony of screams. Three children sprinted by us, chasing each other; a fourth rammed into my leg, bounced off, and then shouted, “Wait for me!” without apology. I wasn’t sure if the boy even knew he had collided with a person.

  Sarah gestured to me and laughed. “Oh, the look on your face is priceless.”

  I forced a smile. “I need a drink.”

  “Lizzie! It’s ten in the
morning, and this is a family establishment!”

  I found her indignation endearing. “Jeez, I was just kidding.” I removed my sunglasses and squinted to block out the bright colors. It was sensory overload, especially after spending most of the night languidly making love to Sarah—not that I was complaining about that. Sarah, in a floral skirt and tight tee, looked ravishing. Was that an okay thought to have while at Chuck E. Cheese’s, or did it make me a pervert, lusting after my wife? I slipped my arm around her waist and led her in search of the birthday party. Thank God I wasn’t hungover, or all the shrieking would have been even more unpleasant.

  “Look what the cat dragged in.” Ethan stood to hug us.

  “Ten o’clock. Really?” I responded.

  “Naptime is at 1:30, so we didn’t have a choice.” He shrugged. “Besides, you’re up at five every morning riding that damn bike of yours.”

  “Not this morning.” Sarah gave me a suggestive wink.

  “I’ve always wondered, Sarah. Does frigid Lizzie need any aids to get you going?”

  I felt fire radiating up my neck to my forehead. Why did all my friends have to banter with Sarah about sex? Considering Ethan’s aversion to bodily fluids, him joking about it was even harder to fathom.

  “Ah, how cute. Are you Strawberry Shortcake today?” Ethan patted my back and handed me a red plastic cup filled with Coke. “Maybe this will help. The pizza will be ready in an hour or so.”

  Casey ran up and grabbed Ethan’s hand. “Daddy, I need more tokens.”

  “Casey, honey. Say hi to your guests,” Ethan reminded her.

  I squatted on my haunches. “Happy birthday!” I put my hand out to shake.

  Casey launched into my arms for a hug. Then she grabbed my hand. “Come on! Let’s play!”

  I looked over my shoulder. Ethan, Lisa, and Sarah all waved good-bye, smirking.

  Why did this kid like me so much? She was like a cat, choosing to rub against the one person in the room who was allergic to cats. The adults sat down at the table to chat while I slipped further and further into kid hell.

  “Hey, wait!”

  For a moment, I was relieved. Ethan was going to save me. I stopped and turned, only to see him hurrying over with tokens. He shoved them into my hand and then turned and shouted over his shoulder, “Have fun!”

  Bastard!

  No wonder parents invited childless adults to parties—so we could babysit. It wouldn’t surprise me if Ethan was pouring rum from a hipflask into his Coke.

  “Do you like Skee-Ball?” Casey tugged on my arm to get my attention.

  Skee-Ball. At least that perked me up a little. The kid was in for it now. I briefly wondered why she was dressed as a cowboy and not a princess.

  “Let’s go!” I squealed with delight. I stopped myself from adding, “I’ll clean your clock.” That didn’t seem like the right thing to say to a four-year-old, on her birthday.

  Five games later, Sarah showed up. She glanced down at the pathetic amount of tickets I had won. Then she eyed Casey’s stash.

  “I thought this was your game, Lizzie,” she teased.

  I growled, “I’m out of practice.”

  Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. “And how often did your mom and dad take you to play?”

  “Obviously not enough. Besides, my nanny took me. Feel free to take over.” I tossed a ball at her.

  Casey ignored us. She was in the Skee-Ball zone, giggling and clapping her hands each time the machine spat out more tickets. How was I getting creamed by a four-year-old? Half the time, the ball didn’t even make it to the top when Casey chucked it. She was barely tall enough or strong enough for this game, even though she was much bigger than the other kids her age. I envisioned Ethan spending a lot of time at basketball games in the near future.

  Sarah pretended she was pitching a softball, and wound her arm up three times before she released the ball. It launched out of her hand and landed in the hundred-point hole. Flinging her arms in the air as if she had just crossed the Boston Marathon finish line in first place, she yelled, “Yeah.”

  Casey stopped briefly and squealed. Sarah put her hand out for another ball.

  “Lucky shot. Let’s see if you can do that again.” I felt confident she’d fail.

  She didn’t. A machine opened up next to me, so Sarah started her own game. Within five minutes, she’d won more tickets than Casey and I combined. She ripped off her tickets and placed them in Casey’s tiny hand. “Go get yourself a good prize.”

  Casey grabbed her tickets and then mine. I bristled, but Sarah gave me that look: the glare that said Don’t be an asshole. It was an effective reminder.

  “Come on!” Casey ran toward the prize counter.

  “Don’t lose her, Lizzie.” Sarah pushed me in the child’s direction.

  I rolled my eyes. When I had a kid, I planned on getting even with Ethan. He was sitting at the table, probably having a relaxing morning, while I was chasing his child around this parent trap.

  Casey had her nose and both hands pressed against the glass display case. A million tiny fingerprints speckled the glass, coupled with who knows how much slobber. When she saw me, Casey pointed to a unicorn sticker. I looked to see how many tickets she would need. Two hundred! Two hundred tickets for a measly sticker. Panicking, I thumbed through the tickets. We were seventy-five short.

  “Um, Casey. We don’t have enough tickets.” I braced for a screaming fit in which she would throw herself down on the floor, kicking.

  “Okay. Let’s win more!”

  I started back toward the Skee-Ball.

  Casey pulled on my arm again. “Not there. Whac-A-Mole!” And she was off like a shot.

  Whac-A-Mole? What the fuck?

  The kid wasn’t lying. There was a game called Whac-A-Mole. Armed with a club, each of us did our best to whack a mole’s head whenever it popped out, smashing it before it disappeared. If we were successful, the machine would spit out part of a ticket. I could see this was going to take some time. Pushing the thought aside, I focused on the game. It would have been easier if it was an adult-sized mole-whacking table, so I didn’t have to lean down so much, which restricted my arm reach.

  “You’re just as bad at this game.”

  Once again, Sarah magically appeared, just to mock me.

  I handed over my mallet. “Go for it. I’m thirsty.”

  Before she could protest, I made a beeline for salvation. Over at the party table, Lisa was chatting with some of the moms while Ethan was reading a book. What the—? I’d been entertaining his brat while he was reading a book!

  “Nice to see you’re getting into the spirit.” I raised the plastic cup to my lips.

  “I have to take advantage of these chances. They’re rare, trust me.” He set the book aside. “I hear my kid kicked your ass at Skee-Ball.” He grinned, knowing that would get under my skin.

  “Whatever. I think she cheats.”

  “If that makes you feel better.”

  “I think the agency lied to you. There’s no way she’s four. Has to be five.”

  Ethan stared at me as if I was insane. “Do you only play Skee-Ball with children under the age of five, so you can win?” He quirked an eyebrow.

  “Lizzieeeeeee!”

  The voice made me jump. The kid was back, ready to whisk me off again. Ethan smirked as he picked up his book.

  “Come on!” Casey shouted.

  She dragged me to a pit filled with plastic balls. What was the point of this? Casey climbed right in. “Get in!”

  Get in? There was no way I was climbing into that disgusting germ factory.

  “Don’t be a scaredy-cat!” Casey taunted me.

  Scaredy-cat? She did not!

  I jumped in, feeling silly. None of the other adults were in the ball pit. Oh well, they were scaredy-cats.

  Casey dived under the balls and then popped back up again, just like a grinning little mole, squealing
in delight. Honestly, I didn’t see the appeal, but her infectious laughter wore me down. Soon, I was mimicking her. I would go under, holding my breath, and then jump out like a monster and try to grab her. Other kids came over. Before I knew it, I was entertaining half a dozen kids, all by acting like a complete idiot. I walked about like a zombie, stumbling through the brightly colored balls, mumbling, “I’m going to get you.”

  A child would draw near, and then dash off, screaming. Another would approach timidly, running off after I repeated the whole zombie routine. I wish I could say I was bored out of my mind, but I wasn’t. Not once in all that time did I think of my mom. All I did was let go and have fun.

  “Come on, Casey, time for lunch!” Sarah helped Casey out of the ball pit. “Lizzie, say good-bye to your friends.” Sarah was enjoying herself way too much.

  I waved to my playmates. They waved back and then began a new game. Jeez, they could have missed me a bit more. Ingrates.

  “You fit in here.” Sarah looped her arm through mine.

  “Are you surprised?” I raised my eyebrows.

  “Stunned.” She patted my arm. “And thrilled.”

  I rolled my neck back and forth. “I think I pulled a muscle playing Whac-A-Mole.”

  “Oh, poor baby. I’ll give you a massage later. Maybe more.”

  “Maybe. But I’m beat.”

  “One hour playing with Casey and you’re turning me down.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be able to rally me later. You do have a certain charm about you.”

  She walked ahead of me, swaying her hips more than usual.

  “How come she’s not Ariel today?” I asked as I plunked myself down next to Ethan, gesturing to Casey’s outfit.

  “Toy Story is her new thing.”

  “Toy Story?”

  “Seriously, you haven’t seen that one either?” Ethan bit into his slice of pizza. A long string of cheese suspended itself from his chin. When I motioned to it, he wiped it away daintily with a paper napkin. “She’s dressed as Woody. The cowboy in the movie.”

  Damn, now I needed to watch another juvenile cartoon.

  “How long is this movie?” I asked, not sure why. Did I plan on sneaking off to the bathroom to cram it in, just so I could show up a four-year-old?