“Okay.” I could tell it wasn’t worth questioning at this point, and the fact that I had questioned it upset him.
“Yeah. Okay.” He seemed displeased I would even question him, and I felt stupid for even saying anything at all. He had that way about him that could make you feel ashamed for asking a question, should it be the wrong one, without really trying.
Nothing more was said, as a call came in and the boys all hustled around and were out the door within two minutes.
Sunday, November 24, 2012
AFTER SEEING Ava on Saturday, I became a little determined to do something about the distance that seemed to be present between Jace and me.
When I saw girls like Ava, I wondered if Jace wanted that. She was skinny, toned in all the right places, and had this amazing shiny hair I was convinced she’d stolen from a Victoria’s Secret cover model.
Did he want that?
I didn’t exactly think so, when any time his hands roamed over the puckered skin on my hips that stretch marks called home, he never gave me any indication he found it repulsive. As a matter of fact, Jace had never commented on my weight. Even when I was nine months pregnant with Jayden and it was looking like two hundred pounds was coming in my near future. Never. He only ever told me that I was beautiful.
What was my plan for getting past the distance?
Sex.
It worked the night in his truck, for a little while, and I thought hell, give it a go and see what happens.
I had to stop by the shop that morning and help Lauren with an order that came in. That was when she handed me her book. Fifty Shades of Grey.
I wanted to burn this book, because everyone wouldn’t stop talking about it. Drove me insane. What was so great about it?
I was about to find out.
So I took it home and read a few chapters when Jace was at the bar watching the Seahawks game with Logan.
Just five chapters in and I understood the appeal, but was slightly disturbed by what I was reading. Lauren and Shanna were constantly telling me how they learned a few things from it.
I wouldn’t say I learned anything, but it got me thinking that this might be our answer to finding the spark again.
After I got the kids bathed and in bed, I walked into our room to see Jace sitting on the bed, that book in his hand and a sly grin on his face.
I paused at the door when I saw what he was reading, in bed, grinning from ear to ear. “Well, honey, I see you’re reading something educational here.”
Fuck.
“I thought it was some kind of card game, and then I read some of it. Clearly not a card game.”
“It’s a book.”
“I see that.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I stood at the door, my hands restlessly fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.
“Come over here.” He tossed the book on the floor.
I straddled him, my legs falling around his hips. His hands went from the bed to my hips under his SFD T-shirt I was wearing.
“What” —he removed his shirt and went for the button of his jeans— “so you want, like, rough shit?”
“Yeah.” I shrugged, trying to wish the embarrassment from my voice. Swallowing, I looked down at him. His hands moved from his jeans to my shirt, slipping it over my head and letting it fall to the floor.
Tapping my hip with his hand, he had me get off him so he could remove his jeans, then returned and allowed me to crawl back on him.
Jace grinned. “You’re naughty, aren’t you?”
“I could be.”
“I want you to be.” Oh, how I wanted to hear that.
I glanced down just as he entered me, his hands roaming from my hips to my neck, where I’d requested them to be.
Once it got rough, I wasn’t so sure I should have asked for it. Was seeing stars supposed to be sexy? Was the lack of oxygen a turn-on? Maybe because I was becoming delirious?
Was my head knocking against the headboard sexy?
Not really. It was all painful.
But if it brought the spark back, what could it hurt?
Fuck that.
Who ever thought being physically hurt during sex was a turn-on had obviously been choked too long. By the lack of oxygen, they weren’t thinking clearly.
“Jace . . . ?”
At first he didn’t stop. He was into it, skin slapping skin, he continued.
When my head hit the headboard again, and his grip on my neck tightened, I cried out in pain. Actual pain, not pleasure.
“Jace . . . you’re hurting me.”
“Oh, thank God,” he gasped, rolling off me, panting. “This isn’t us.”
He was right. This wasn’t us.
“No more reading those books.”
“Deal.” He certainly didn’t have to ask me twice. I was most definitely not into this kind of thing.
But I was determined. I had to think of something and just went with it.
“You wanna try the back?” We had yet to try this in our relationship, and it seemed like something new. Something that could bring back the spark.
Wrong.
“Fuck, yeah, I do.” He was eager. I’ll give him that much — the mood was returning.
Then I was suddenly nervous when we had the lube out. “What if I poop on you?”
Lying on his back, he laughed, his chest and stomach shaking. “That’s not very attractive, Aubrey.”
“You have to admit” —my eyes were drawn lower to his arousal for me, and I smiled sweetly at him— “it’s a valid concern to have.”
He winked. “I’ll be gentle.”
With a deep breath, I took the lube in my hand and squirted a small amount into my palm. His breath hitched when I stroked him once, coating him with the cool gel.
Straddling him, I went for it. No preparation or anything.
Moaning at his touch, I threw my head back, taking his hands and placing them on my hips. “Move me the way you want me.”
That he could do. That he wanted to do it was evident by the lustful gaze he gave me.
Reaching between us, he positioned himself at my entrance, our eyes locked as he slid inside. With his head dipping forward, he licked my lower lip, plunging his tongue deep in my mouth.
That was the only romantic part. For me it was uncomfortable, burned, and hurt so fucking bad. But hey, he enjoyed it.
I steadied myself against the headboard and then lowered my hips.
“Fuck . . . that’s tight,” he growled, clearly enjoying it.
“That’s because it’s an exit only ramp,” I said, gritting my teeth against the pain.
“What?” He chuckled, a smile tugged at his lips.
I’ll spare you most of the details, because to me, this wasn’t romantic, but hey, if he wanted this, it couldn’t be all bad, right?
Oh, but it was. Every move I made hurt and caused pain I never knew could happen to my ass. I thought for sure I was doing irreversible damage.
With pain, I get cranky. I was at that point now.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his breath hot and heavy on my neck.
“No. Just don’t touch me.” I was in so much pain I thought I was shitting barbed wire. Whoever thought this was enjoyable was clearly smoking crack.
“Do you want to stop?”
“No.”
I didn’t want to stop, afraid that if I did, this moment when I felt close to him, the kind of moment we so seldom had, would be gone.
“Honey, if it hurts we can stop.” He grunted softly when my back arched, allowing him to slide in deeper. “Causing you pain isn’t exactly a turn-on for me . . . ” I could tell he didn’t want to stop — pleasure shot through him as he shuddered, “ . . . despite what you’ve read in that fucking book of yours.”
I squirmed but then gave up when I realized I couldn’t move with the grip Jace had on me, his head buried in my neck, grunts and groans escaping him.
The burning reached an all-time high, and I thought if I moved
it would get better. My problem here was the lube I hadn’t cleaned off my hand. It was everywhere.
It was so bad that when my hand with the lube on it reached up to grab the headboard, trying to shift our position just slightly, I slipped and smacked my chin into Jace’s eye, only to have him reach for his eye and knock his elbow into my eye.
You couldn’t have repeated that shit even if you wanted to. It was so awkward.
The moment was lost as I rubbed my eye. “I’m sorry.”
Jace drew in a deep breath and moved me from on top of him to beside him, pulling away completely.
He looked at me, the skin below his eye raised with a purple outline, a bruise forming where my chin had hit. And while I wanted to make a snarky remark, I couldn’t before he removed himself from the bed, and I knew I’d lost him for now.
He moved away, back at least a foot, and then looked at me again, sighing, before he turned and walked away. Again.
Stupid book.
Look at us now. Two people, both silently trying to find themselves.
I felt like nothing we did worked out anymore. Remember when I said if you told me the passion was gone from the relationship, I just might punch you?
Right now I wanted to punch myself, because I got this feeling nothing had changed.
He was still a man lost in thoughts he couldn’t put words to.
Things are different now.
We’re not the same.
The dark was creeping in, like smoke spreading and smothering, the way a fire could.
If you have the open flame of a candle, and then put a lid on it, the fire will die. Without oxygen, everything dies. We need it.
Without oxygen, you’ll suffocate. Without oxygen, we were suffocating.
Command to dispatch . . . Truck 1 called in the mayday. Confirmed. Firefighter down. Battalion 2 . . . mayday alert. What’s your location?
MAYDAY . . . MAYDAY.
Dispatch to command, who keeps calling in the mayday? There’s too much radio chatter.
Command to dispatch, everybody continue for now and calm down. We have special teams going to where the PPE was activated. We have advanced rescue unit on scene and three additional ambulances en route.
* * *
Monday, November 26, 2012
Jace
WHAT HAPPENS when oxygen combines with a flammable vapor?
Well, nothing at first. But add a source of spark, and you’ve got yourself a fire.
I felt like a fire right now. A raging fucking inferno.
There were times with the danger, which I was constantly surrounded by, where I wondered if Aubrey walked away, would I blame her for doing so?
At this point, no, I wouldn’t. It would tear me apart, but with the way I had distanced myself, the games we played, I couldn’t blame her.
My thoughts were hardly on the game that night, and Logan seemed determined to change that when he handed me another beer.
“What’s up, man?” Leaning back, he propped one foot on the seat in front of him and rested his own beer on his knee.
“Fucking Aubrey,” I grumbled. “Her mom is in town, and it’s gotten her all sorts of confused, and then her fucking ex-boyfriend showed up.”
“Has she seen him?”
“Yeah, he knows where she works, and I just keep . . . fuck, I just have this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something’s off, you know?”
“Have you told her?”
I let out a heavy sigh, wishing the worry would go with it. “No. She’d probably just think I’m being overprotective. Her mom came to Thanksgiving, and it was a disaster.”
“Brooke was telling me about that last night.” Logan laughed and handed me another beer. “Own up, brother. Marry her before she has the chance to doubt you.”
It seemed random but if anyone could have said that to me and had me actually listen, it would have been Logan. We constantly had this conversation, too. When you’re with a group of guys as often as I am, it gets talked about. Around the table, on the truck, and watching television, we bullshitted, and our personal lives were never far from the topics.
“Marriage is just a piece of paper, man.” To me, it was a piece of paper. I didn’t see the difference between what we were and that.
He smiled before tipping his beer back to finish it and then tossing it to the ground along with the four other empty cups. “If you say so . . . Jace, everything you want is right in front of you. All you have to do is fight for it. Save what’s worth saving.”
“I don’t get why you’re not married if she has your kids and you’re living together,” Axe remarked, joining the conversation. “Seems ridiculous not to be, given our line of work.”
He has a point there.
Logan spit out his drink with his laugh. “Yes, Jace, tell us why that is.”
Everybody was always giving me shit over this crap.
“Come on,” I groaned. “We’re here for the game.” I gestured to the screaming stadium of full of people dressed in blue and silver. “Not to talk about my fucking life.”
“Dude, you once told me when you were a kid that you would marry that girl someday. What changed?”
What did change? Did I even know?
Life. Life changed us and dealt us hands we would have never ordinarily chosen. I always saw myself marrying Aubrey and having kids. Who knew the kids would come first?
“It might seem like a shitty piece of advice for you, but you don’t choose what happens to you. It finds you.” Logan lowered his voice so only I heard him. “But how you deal with it is something you do choose.”
I only looked at him blankly. “What the fuck does that mean, Logan?”
“Your life. It means your life.”
And he didn’t care to enlighten me.
Denny, who was beside Logan, turned to him. “Twenty says Seattle chokes.”
“Deal,” Logan said, throwing a wadded-up twenty at Denny. “Jets are on tonight.”
“You do realize Seattle hasn’t lost a home game in two years.”
Logan reached around and retrieved his money, and then cocked his head at me. “I thought Sean nailed your right eye. Why is your left one black and blue?”
I shrugged. No way was I telling them about the other night with Aubrey and our attempt at finding the passion again.
Axe was sitting beside me, scratching his balls, which naturally captured my attention.
“What, are you allergic to your drawers, man?”
“No.” He looked surprised by my question. “I shaved my balls. They itch.”
“Stop touching yourself.” I side-eyed him. “You’re in public.”
“Why is he itching his nuts?” Logan whispered to my left, eyes on the game but intrigued. Anytime Logan sensed an opening to give someone shit, he took it. Right now he sensed it.
“He shaved his balls.” I said it loud enough that the two women in front of us heard and turned around.
Logan winked at them and then looked across me to Axe. “Say what?”
“I always shave them.”
And I wasn’t surprised by that at all. He’s a dirty guy, but he did take care of himself. He just wasn’t very selective about where he fucked around at.
“Does it make it bigger?” Denny asked. “I’ve always wondered that.”
“Shut up,” Axe said, looking at me like they were all crazy. “Why did we bring the probie?”
None of us had a straight answer, but despite being a bit of a dumbass, Denny was a good guy.
The two girls in front of us turned around to face us. “Are you guys police officers?”
We got asked that question a lot. Not sure why, but we did.
Logan laughed, the sound booming. “No. Definitely not brass. We’re America’s heroes.”
“Military?”
Military? Logan mouthed at me, eyebrows drawn together, and then he looked back at the girls, straight-faced. “No. Firefighters.”
Apparently that’s what th
ey wanted to hear. Leave it to Logan to engage them further. “What are you, strippers?”
They didn’t even acknowledge the remark. Ignored it, actually, but I had to laugh.
“So you’re like those guys from Chicago Fire?” the taller girl asked, eyeing me and then Logan before looking directly at Axe.
“Those shows are bullshit,” Axe all but grumbled. “All the firefighters are hot. So not true.”
“Uh, speak for yourself,” Logan said, running his hand down the front of his chest proactively. “I’m fucking amazing.”
“You guys are pretty hot.” Her gaze drifted back to me, and she winked.
Axe cleared his throat, leaning forward. “Don’t look at Jace. He’s got commitment phobia and two kids” —he jabbed Logan in the chest — “and this one is married.” Moving from his seat next to me, he wrapped his arm around her, leading her up the steps toward the concessions. “But I’m free.”
That was the last we saw of Axe that night.
The game ended up being a wash. Seattle won by something like four touchdowns, so we ended up leaving early.
As we walked to the car, the voices and raucous sounds of the city surrounded us. The night sky was gray, overlaid by the orange haze the city lights created.
They say Qwest field is the loudest stadium in the NFL. I believe it. My ringing ears attested to that shit.
Just as I was planning on dropping Logan and Denny off and getting home to Aubrey, Denny came up with quite possibly the stupidest idea yet.
“How long do you think it would take the chief to call brass if we jumped off his roof into his pool?”
Logan spit out a mouthful of the beer he’d managed to sneak out with him from inside the stadium. “Now I know why we invited you.” He wiped his mouth and chin. “We’re testing this shit.”
Naturally we followed. Logan was the leader in most everything we did. I was sure if he jumped off a bridge, some would follow, me included. I trusted him that much.
Or maybe a roof.
Soon we found ourselves at Burke’s house on Lake Washington. Burke was the battalion chief for district four. We didn’t have much interaction with him, but he was fun to mess with. Old, worn beyond his fifty-seven years, he was paranoid like you wouldn’t believe. Some of the guys around the stations in the area have been known to play practical jokes on him, and he always thought it was the police commissioner. They had this ongoing battle with each other that we loved to fuel.
Something Worth Saving Page 13
