Lifting my hand to his face, I ran my fingers down the stubble of his jaw.
When something threatens your body, what happens?
Your body fights back, raises your temp, and fights in various ways. It works over time to give you a fighting chance.
Eventually though, parts of you give up. And that’s fine — you can live without some. Your appendix?
You don’t even need that.
Gallbladder? Don’t need that, either.
Spleen? You can make it without it.
Kidneys? You only need one, so I’ve heard.
Liver? Maybe. Unless you’re my Georgia.
I was sure hers stopped working years ago.
Lungs? You need them, but you could make it on one, I believe.
But your heart, it operates all that.
So what happens when someone or something threatens that?
You fight. You have no choice. I was fighting back. Getting back what was mine.
Strong hands trailed over my body, and his voice brought me back to his face.
“Tell me you love me,” he panted, shifting his position to look at me.
I pushed his hair from his forehead, my gaze lingering and holding focus with his eyes before my lips found his.
“I love you,” I told him between kisses.
Command to ladder 1, we’re starting an exterior attack, evacuate.
* * *
Friday, December 21, 2012
Aubrey
WE’VE GOT oxygen. We’ve got heat. Now we needed something to burn.
What we crave is what’s desired. It’s a will to survive, if you ask me.
My will to survive?
The one next to me, and the two little hearts that beat because of us.
Someone once told me that in order to make a relationship work, you had to give it everything you had, and then give it everything you don’t have.
I’m not sure who said it, but it never really made sense to me. Think about it. What does ‘give it everything you don’t have’ mean?
It means, I would guess, that in order to love someone, you have to give pieces of yourself you never thought you would have to. Maybe even pieces you’ve never had yourself.
For me that would be confidence. Never had that. I’m insecure by nature, seldom look people in the eye – and frankly, it actually freaks me out a little to do so.
I’m an introvert. Put me in a room with a bunch of people, and I will go out of my way not to talk to them. It isn’t because I don’t want to — it’s because I don’t know what to say.
There are so many reason why I am this way, most of which I’ve never considered. Mommy issues, daddy issues, rejection, you name it. I could probably win a BINGO hand, should there be one for this sort of thing.
Jace once told me that I expected him to be the perfect guy. For a while I didn’t think that statement was true, because how could someone like me, with the fine qualities I listed earlier, think someone would need to be perfect?
Clearly I’m not one to be asking for greatness here, right?
When I look back on my life, I can see the pattern of destruction that’s led me to this. The part where Jace said I needed perfection. It’s not his fault.
There were times when I wished I had a different life and told myself that when I found it, it would be perfect.
See where I’m going with this?
I wanted perfect, whether I knew it or not.
For myself, I intended to keep working on that.
Through the night and into the early morning hours, Jace and I finally said what needed to be said.
I wouldn’t say everything was perfect now, but at least we were communicating, something we hadn’t done in the past. Something we had avoided at all cost. I don’t know what changed or even how it happened, but it did, and I was thankful for it.
I guess it didn’t happen right away either. Just like the strain that was put on our relationship, it was like a slow-moving fire. With time it had become almost unbearable.
But slowly we started to make ground on it. It was a slow process. Days got better and better, until one day we could finally talk without the hurt and each day a little more was revealed.
We had found that love again.
How do you find that spark again? And I’m talking a manageable spark. One that would burn evenly.
Porn? Well, that was the suggestion I got from Shanna, Lauren, and Kari. That, along with handcuffs, rope — all things I’d never even considered until Shanna and Lauren thought they’d help a girl out. They even bought me a fucking vibrator, as if I was going to have to do the job myself.
Or was I supposed to use it on him?
As you can see, I had no experience in this area.
It was going to take some time.
What we decided on was a night out at Trinity nightclub, a place we hadn’t been since before Gracie was born.
As I got dressed that evening, I wore my new black dress, snug in all the right places, with my lacy panties and bra that matched. I hadn’t worn it in years, and thought tonight would be the perfect occasion.
Since that night I smacked him in the face with my elbow, we hadn’t had sex. Not since Logan’s death, either.
Tonight I planned on changing that.
“Hey, Aubrey.” I could hear Jayden screaming in the living room, refusing to get his shoes on. “Maybe we could just stay here.”
“I have a better idea.” I walked out in full view for him.
Jace’s tongue touched his bottom lip, his confusion still obvious, and then he looked at my dress. “I like it better already.”
“I have a plan tonight.”
He leaned forward, smiling. “Is that so?” Scratching his jaw, he studied me.
“Yes. And we’re dropping the kids off with Brooke, and I will show you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
We were dropping the kids off with Brooke – as they were both having a slumber party with Amelia tonight – when Brooke asked what our plans were for the evening.
Naturally, she knew we had talked and planned to go out. A few drinks, maybe go to a bar or something. Things we hadn’t done since we first started dating.
That was how you found the spark again. In my opinion, at least.
My plan was to have a good time, get drunk, have sex, and then have sex again.
I wasn’t even sure which order that would happen in, either.
Once we were at the nightclub, everyone seemed to start drinking immediately. And by everyone, I mean Jace, Lauren, Axe, Kari, Kasey, and me. Even Shanna showed up. Since Logan died, no one had done anything fun. Now we were just trying to have a little fun for the first time in a month. On a Thursday night, of all nights.
“I have so many plans for tonight, but sobriety is just not one of them,” Lauren said. It seemed to be her new mantra.
Her pledge started an endless flow of drinks to our table in the back of Trinity nightclub.
“So have you guys . . . you know . . . made up?” Kari asked, curious as always. “And you know what kind of ‘making up’ I’m talking about.”
Immediately Shanna and Lauren were all ears, too.
Jace let out a deep throaty laugh at something Axe had just said and stretched his arms over his head and one around my shoulder, drawing me closer to his side.
I whispered to Kari, “No . . . not exactly.”
“Dance for him, then.”
Hmmm.
“What should I do . . . like, a lap dance or something?”
When Jace and Axe went to get drinks, Kari immediately pulled out her phone and Googled lap dances. I think Kasey knew what we were doing, but he just shook his head and continued drinking from the pitcher of beer at the table.
Can you believe there are how-to videos for lap dances?
Suddenly I wanted a stripper pole in our room. It seemed fitting.
It was decided pretty quickly that I was going to g
ive him a lap dance.
“I can’t believe I’m about to do this!” I said, chickening out once we were away from the table, huddled in the corner, and planning how I might do it.
“Oh, don’t be a pussy!” She slapped at my ass, not exactly what I needed right then, either.
“Hey, I’m trying,” I said, biting at my nails and trying desperately to tug at my skirt again.
What if it ripped? But then I realized the clothes were coming off anyway. Right?
This was such a very bad idea. I didn’t have the body to do this.
Shanna and Lauren noticed my hesitation. “You’re sexy, Aubrey. Remember that.”
Shanna smiled. “Remember, this is to cheer him up. My husband makes my ankles touch my ears. You should be happy it’s just a lap dance. Clearly I’ve resorted to less. No thanks to Lauren.”
“And the closest I’ve come to this kind of excitement is having my panties ripped off,” Kari said, adding to my anxiety.
“Did he rip them off with his teeth?” Shanna seemed like she was taking notes or something. Probably anything to keep from having to be so bendy, but still keep the spark in their relationship.
“It’s not very smart, though.” Kari reached inside her bag and dug out her makeup and hairspray. “He nearly pulled out his front tooth doing it. His tooth was loose for, like, a month.”
“Let’s go, stripper.” Kari pushed me forward. “Into the bathroom to get you slutty.”
I didn’t go. Instead I stood firm, trying to work out every detail. My anxiety about this was shooting through the roof right about now.
“Okay . . . but how do you think they’re going to let us do this? This isn’t exactly a strip club.” The dark bar was sleek and way more upscale than the average strip club in Seattle. It wasn’t the kind of place where I would expect someone to break out into a lap dance.
“I know the DJ,” Lauren said, pointing to him and then a back room I knew that she of all people probably knew well. “You can do it in there. I’ll get him in there, and you do the rest.”
“Let me guess, you’ve done this before?” I rolled my eyes before Lauren even answered. It was just like her to do something like this.
But me?
I . . . was scared. Never in my life would I have willingly done something like this. But after three more shots, the idea seemed like a good one.
It wasn’t lost on me that this was the liquor talking, but hey, if it brought back what was missing, this could be good, right?
“How do you know the DJ?” Kari handed me another shot, and I looked to Lauren for her to answer my question.
“I dated him for, like, a week.” She shrugged as if it meant nothing and then said, completely serious, “He turned me into some kind of suicide risk.”
“I’m not surprised by that.” After a closer look at him through the darkness and the waves of dim light in the club, I could tell he was just the type of guy she dated. Tattooed up to his jaw, pierced lip, eyebrow, and nose. I had no doubt those piercings went lower, too.
“What song?”
“‘Darling Nikki,’” Lauren said immediately, and walked over to the DJ like she owned the place. He smiled. Apparently that was how you did it here.
And then I panicked. “I’ve never danced to that song.” I think they could tell I was moments away from chickening out.
“You don’t need to know it.” Kari pushed me forward. “Just feel the music and move. I know these hips of yours know how to. You got Jace Ryan.”
I whipped around to face her. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Shanna waved in my face, distracting me. “You know what it means. He’s hot. Take it as a compliment and just focus. This is our entertainment for tonight.”
Of course I was their entertainment.
Jerks.
“Stop thinking.” Shanna nudged me forward. “Just do it. It’s, like, a four-minute song, and then it will be over. Own it.”
While I tightened up my makeup, pushed my dress down a little more in the front, and hiked it up around my upper thighs, Kari teased my hair a little.
Stepping back, she eyed her handiwork with her hands on her hips. “Perfect. You look like you were just fucked.”
“We want that look?” I think they knew I was moments away from bitching out.
“Yes. We do.”
I took a peek in the mirror. Talk about humiliating. Did she really expect me to go out there like this?
Yes. Look at her. She expected it, all right.
Lauren got Jace into the room, sitting in a chair with his drink in hand. The fact that he had gone willingly into a dark room, led by my sister of all people, wasn’t lost on me, either. He was drunk. Which was even better for me, because than I wouldn’t feel like such a fool.
When I heard the song come on, Kari all but pushed me into the room where he was sitting.
No going back now.
I went for it and played the part of a dirty stripper. And, I might add, I owned it.
As the song started, with the slow, rocking motion it had to it, I think it took him a minute to realize what exactly I was doing, but he caught on pretty quickly.
As did everyone else outside the room.
I was nervous, and I think he gathered that, too. I thought for sure that once he caught on to what I was doing, he would tell me to stop. But here’s the thing. Firefighters live a demanding job where the attention to detail is critical. They have to wake up and make life-changing decisions in split seconds. For that reason, when they’re not at the station, they like to let loose. And I do mean let loose. Most are heavy drinkers and like to have a good time.
He was having a good time, and I like to think I was making it a little better. Or at least I was about to.
His eyes were wide, a wild fire in them as he watched me moving toward him in a sexy strut I never thought I of all people could actually carry off.
Showing him another side of myself, I moved closer and made my intentions clear. I was about to ride his fire pole.
With one leg on the edge of his chair, the other planted firmly on the ground, I swiveled my hips and ran my hands from my thighs up my body until they were over my head, letting him see the entire length of my body and the alterations we had made to the dress.
I slipped a little and decided that if I was going to do this, two feet had to be on the floor at all times. I had no balance after all those shots I’d consumed.
Dancing in front of him was easier. Tempting, even. Let him see what I had to offer without being able to touch.
Turning and turning, on my knees but with a teasing control to my moves.
Bending at my knees, I arched my back, threw my ass out there, and then turned so he had a nice view. To tease him more, I bent at the waist and touched the floor with my hands, then shook my ass a little and looked back at him.
He was leaning back in his chair, slouched slightly to one side. His head was down, lashes shadowing his cheeks when he shifted, his arms draped over the back of the chair next to him. One leg was kicked out in front of him, the other bent, a resting point for the drink in his hand as he studied my every move.
He was aroused but clearly very entertained. “Don’t stop now. Show me what you got, dirty girl.”
I was about to. Rising up from my position, I turned around to face him.
With my hands on his chest, I went for it and straddled him. Bending my knees and planting my hands firmly on his shoulders now, I rose up on my toes, rocked forward, and ground against him.
Up until then, he hadn’t touched me. Maybe I’d caught him off guard.
Even better.
And then he touched me.
I felt each fingertip as he dragged it over my ass slowly, but said nothing. My skin ignited at his touch. It’d been so long.
I’d never seen him so entranced, and the fact that I was doing this to him, creating that hunger deep within his steady stare, well, that did things to me, too.
Wi
th my arms around the back of his neck — slick with sweat — my hands moved slowly to his hair, threading tightly in his curls. He moaned, a growl rumbling from deep within, shaking his chest.
“Fuck . . . ”
A low rumble left his chest, and a shudder ran through me that I was making him feel this way.
Cursing under his breath, he took a firm hold on me. “Don’t stop.”
He wasn’t letting an inch of space come between us. Instead, his hands held me firmly against his pelvis, rocking us back and forth.
There was a trembling to his body that made it easier because it made me feel like I was doing something right. And there were so many thoughts going through my head that I couldn’t focus on any one in particular to act on them. Just move. That’s what I told myself to do, and that’s what I did.
As the song progressed, my movements started to come naturally, slow and persistent. I moved, letting him know just how much I wanted him.
His hands ran up my chest, his fingers gliding over my breasts. He was so hard under me I felt like was sitting on a metal pipe.
I could feel the roughness of his jeans sliding along my center, the thinness of my panties allowing me to absorb it, and I’m not going to lie here — I knew he could feel how wet I was getting.
So apparently acting the part of a dirty stripper also had me talking like one, too. I was saying all kinds of shit. Like, “I’m so wet . . . ” and “My pussy aches for you . . . ” and what I never expected, shivers here because this was so clearly not me, “You like me riding your cock . . . don’t you, daddy . . . ?”
Seriously, though, who drugged me?
This wasn’t me. This girl was most definitely not me. I never said “cock.” Ever. I actually hated the word. Now look at me.
Like I said, dirty stripper. It surprised the hell out of me and got Jace so worked up his chest was heaving, gasping for breaths as his mouth attacked any revealed skin he could get to.
My nails clawed at him, and I held myself tightly against his panting chest, rocking against him. His hands dug into my hips, gripping me so hard I was sure bruises would be there later.
I knew the song was just about over, and I tried that whole “whip your head around” thing, got dizzy, and decided that wasn’t exactly for me. So back to the dry humping I went.
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