With the way he was watching me, I was sure he could.
He was so quiet staring back at me, that frightening stillness about him had created a nervous energy in the room.
“What?” I licked my lips, my eyes on the ground. About where my heart was right now. At his feet. I didn’t know why I asked what. I heard what he asked, and we both knew it.
Lie?
No. Never lie to Jace.
If you lied, he always knew, and it was worse than anything you could imagine. Once he knew you’d been dishonest with him, he would never trust you again. He wanted to trust you. He
needed
to trust you.
His palms swiped down his face and over his eyes before he looked at me somberly, his head lifted arrogantly. “You heard me.” Jace’s eyes searched mine as I grasped the meaning behind his words. He knew, and he was looking for me to admit it. “I saw him at your shop when I was getting in my truck.”
“You said you were out on a job.”
“I went after that.” He blinked and then looked back up at me. “The call came in and I was mad, so I went on the job instead of coming into your shop and beating the living shit out of him for showing up here.”
“I honestly don’t know,” was my response. He just stared at me, knowing that wasn’t the truth. He blinked once, slowly, annoyed. “He . . . he wanted to know that I was okay.”
“And you said?”
I swallowed carefully. “I said I was fine.”
His hands found mine, his jaw tight as he spoke in a rigid tone. “You don’t want him here?”
“No.”
Jace gave me a nod, then a small cagey smile. “That’s all I needed to hear, then.”
Was it?
His expression didn’t look so convincing. In fact, his expression told me something else entirely. His head hung, his left hand scrubbing deliberately across his forehead, easing his frustration.
The motion told me that for one, he wasn’t happy my ex was in town and that he had to ask for the information. Jace was never someone who wanted to search out information. He wanted to know. But he also wanted you to tell him before he had to ask. It went back to that trust thing.
“Why are you mad that he’s here?” I had an idea of why, but I asked anyway.
“Because he’s got no business checking up on you after you left him. It only means trouble that he’s here now.”
Before I could say anything else, he gave a nod toward the door. “Let’s go.”
I nodded, feeling like maybe just hiding. Jace always had a way of making me feel like he always had the upper hand in everything he said and did. Had he given me a chance, I would have told him about Ridley. I was sure I would have. Eventually.
Jace didn’t let me get away, and his right hand cupped my cheek. “I just want to take my girl on a date.” I didn’t miss the possessiveness in his voice. I could tell by his eyes I wasn’t meant to, either. “Can we do that?”
And, just like that, he wanted to drop it. Sure, I was nervous then, how could I not be, but I didn’t want to ruin our date or our night over something like Ridley. The last thing I wanted to do was think about Ridley in any way.
For years I’d been hung up on how I could let that happen to me, but no more. I was done with that life and with Ridley Harrison. I wouldn’t spend more time thinking about the past.
Through dinner and well into the movie, Jace was quiet and spoke about work a little, but seemed very distracted. Naturally I knew why, and it frustrated me to no end. It frustrated me more than my mother telling Ridley where I was.
Then we got into the movie, which was about a man hung up on a girl and not seeing what was right in front of him. Was I not seeing what was in front of me?
I had a tendency to stick my own head up my ass at times and not see reality and what was happening right in front of me. Who doesn’t from time to time?
For some reason, the movie sparked something in me. Not sure exactly what, but it got me thinking about how relationships can turn like that.
How do they go from good to bad?
Is it the same as a fire, and eventually the heat will die down?
Romantic movies always made me think about my own relationship and how different reality is from what’s revealed in books and movies.
For one thing, I hate the movies and books where they talk about the guy who meets a girls and never looks twice at another woman. Where’s the veracity in that? It’s bullshit. Guys look, and if you think they don’t, you’re crazy. You’re just not seeing it.
And women do, too.
Sure, in the beginning you’re all eyes on, but what happens a year or two into it and you look?
If you talked to my mother, according to her, if you’re looking, you’re ready for something else. That would also explain why she’d been married five times. At some point you’d think she would get the hint that she was no expert in this department.
Again, if you asked her, this gave her experience. Which in Georgia Gillian terms meant expert. Once more, I call bullshit.
Her logic is fucked. Clearly. She’s a forty six-year-old divorced alcoholic with commitment issues.
I got off track. My point here is that in every relationship there’s a point when you’re comfortable.
So if a good-looking guy walked by, sometimes I looked.
If a girl with a great ass walked by, Jace looked.
Was that wrong?
I didn’t think anything was wrong with that. Maybe that’s not normal, but it never bothered me.
Again, where exactly am I going with this, and what does it have to do with this story?
There’s this perception that men, and women, don’t glance at the opposite sex when they’re in a committed relationship, and that’s unrealistic.
Expecting our relationship to be that of a storybook was unrealistic in so many ways.
Sometimes I wondered if Logan and Brooke had troubles like that. In my eyes they seemed like the perfect couple.
But then again, did that even exist anymore?
I was sure it did for them, but me? I wasn’t so sure.
At the rate we were going, I knew for sure that I didn’t want to be that couple who only got along because they were never together and didn’t have to be around each other.
You know those couples where they’re never together and when they finally are, they’re all over each other? But send them on vacation together for two weeks, and they’re ready to cut each other’s throats.
I wasn’t sure that was me and Jace, either.
So where did that leave us now?
Lost in the smoke was where we were.
As we drove toward our apartment, a thick layer of fog had rolled in, blanketing the city with pockets of glowing thick puffs of what would look to most like smoke.
Fitting, huh?
Wanting some contact from him, his warmth, I pulled his hand to mine, joining them together on the seat next to us.
Would he pull away? Would he take it and hold it like I wanted him to?
He looked confused for about three seconds. Then he laughed. “Where’s this going, honey? Lookin’ to get lucky?”
Like I said, Jace misses nothing. He was so fucking perceptive it drove me mad sometimes, because I knew he sensed the void between us now but did nothing.
His knee nudged mine, and his eyebrows raised. “Come on, girl, don’t be shy.”
When Jace wanted to tease me, he could, and he was very good at it. Leaning toward me, he whispered, “Wanna go someplace with me?” Hands gripped the steering wheel, white knuckles easing into pink skin.
“Where?” I felt like his reason for teasing me was covering up the obvious — what he didn’t want to say. Like, “Hey, what’s bothering you? Are you happy?”
It’d be nice if he sensed that shit and asked that. But he didn’t.
“That’s not important.” His eyes were on the stoplight, watching as cars rushed by, all scrambling to make it through the intersection before it turned. Some made it; two didn’t. He paused and waited for the straggler to cross the intersection. The camera perched on the light flashed to capture the white Lexus as it sped through. “I asked if you wanted to go with me.”
It took a while for me to understand where he was taking me, but the grin he kept at bay behind his hand rubbing his jaw gave it away.
When he turned onto California Way, I knew. Hamilton Viewpoint. Though it was an hour out of the way, it didn’t matter. The view was worth it.
As you know, time alone was never available at our house, and the thought of going to the same place he took me on our first date was one that took me back to a lot of memories. We hadn’t been there since that date. The viewpoint was located above the beaches of Alki, and from there you could see the port, downtown, Elliott Bay, the Cascades. The view had it all. The idea had my heart skipping and my breath hitching.
Was he trying to bring back memories? The ones of foggy windows and panting breaths, to the hips that met forcefully and the begging not to stop.
For a moment we sat there, both of us looking over the city, breathing evenly, and I wasn’t sure anything was going to happen when he finally spoke. “The first time I took you up here . . . ” And then his voice trailed off, as if the memory had passed. Had he forgotten our time here?
“Wanna make out?” My words rushed out.
He shifted sideways slightly, his weight transferring to the right, and bent his head back so I could see his eyes. “Is that what you want?”
My lips parted, and I sucked in a breath. Hell, yes, I wanted that.
“Come over here,” he said in a rough whisper as he looked over at me.
“Where?”
As he leaned to one side with his hand draped over the steering wheel, his eyes found mine in the low light. “Here . . . on me.” Jace knew how to be sexy, always had. But now, after weeks of being deprived, he was amazing, and it really didn’t matter if he was being sexy or not. It was like denying yourself chocolate, and when you finally caved and got some, you’d just about settle on a damn Hershey’s Kiss just to get a taste.
When I didn’t go, Jace licked his lower lip. Shit got me every time.
I unbuckled myself and practically launched my body onto his lap. He grunted when I fell onto him but smiled anyway. “I take that as a yes.”
Even though I’d suggested that we make out, reality was still present. I wasn’t Shanna. Public fornication wasn’t exactly my thing.
“What if there’s someone watching?” I knew for a fact that they patrolled this area frequently. Last thing I wanted was to be picked up by Seattle PD.
Problems with the current situation?
There were many. I wasn’t sure he saw any of them. I also had a fear about being arrested.
Now, keep in mind this wasn’t likely to occur, I was sure making out in a car wasn’t exactly illegal, but still, this was a valid fear of mine. You must admit that.
Jace liked to tease me endlessly about my fears of being arrested. I was never amused by this. He’d been arrested twice, one for disturbing the peace and the other for being drunk in public, and acted like it was no big deal.
“Who cares?”
See? No big deal for him.
His hands wrapped around my ass, squeezing. I considered breaking my eyes from his, but couldn’t. And I definitely couldn’t when the next song on his playlist came on: “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails. “What . . . are you scared they’ll tape us?” A low laugh rumbled in his chest. He was clearly amused by his remark.
“Shut up and fuck me.”
“I plan to.” His rough voice unnerved me. After all these years, he still got to me and kept me anticipating everything he said and did.
Straddling his lap wasn’t all that comfortable. Car sex is hard. In the front seat of any car is hard, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment. Had I said something, I thought for sure he would have stopped and realized we were grown adults. In a car. Making out like kids.
So I continued because I wanted the feeling you get when you were doing something spontaneous. Now I knew why Shanna always did shit like this. I totally understood the thrill now.
I was positive I would have his “FORD” steering wheel logo permanently imprinted in my ass, but I kept going for the thrill.
There were times when Jace was gentle. Like our first time. He was gentle then. But right now, it wasn’t like that. Now was lusty and needy. Animalistic, even.
Now that we were making out like kids, I was contemplating jumping in the bed of the truck for more room.
Had it not been so cold, I would have been all over that.
Arching my back, I let my hair fall over the steering wheel, feeling and breathing with the beats.
That got him. He moaned low and deep. “I thought about your sexy fucking body all day long.” Nipping at my chest, his teeth dragged against my heating skin. “You’re beautiful, baby.”
I felt my nipples harden, and it wasn’t from the cold. It was from the idea, the visualization of him taking me here in his truck like he wanted. The idea of him wanting me so badly that he couldn’t wait to get home.
What couple in a committed relationship where the fire was fading didn’t want that?
As I moved on top of him, his hands went to my hips, and my dress pushed up against my waist. See?
This was why he’d requested this all along. Easy access.
With a tight grasp, he smiled, bunching the strings from my panties in his hands, both hands. Just before he went for it, his eyes lifted from my breasts to my eyes. Then he ripped my panties off. “I told you not to wear panties.”
“It’s cold.”
“Next time don’t wear them.” They fell to the floorboard, where I was sure he thought they should always be. On the ground.
At that point, I didn’t care. I’d go commando the rest of the evening. I didn’t care about the lack of room in the truck, either, because beneath me, bare and hard, was his body grinding against me. There’s nothing sexier than a man ripping off your underwear. So caught up in the moment that he just couldn’t wait to get inside you, that he sees what he wants and takes it.
My grinding against him only lasted a few minutes. I was ready, willing, and now doing.
With little effort he had his pants down around his ankles and my dress maneuvered so my breasts were front and center. Exactly where they should be.