Held A New Adult Romance(40)

She leans back into the couch, letting her head fall back against the headrest. "I know. I know I should have listened to it sooner. And as soon as I heard it I did what I usually did whenever it bothered me - put my hands over my ears and was like 'la la la not listening'. Except that time was different. Maybe. Probably because of what happened next."

"What was that?"

"Next thing I know my Dad is on the phone; Max called him and told him I was planning to marry Justin."

"Holy shit."

Amber nods. "Yeah. Maybe I should send Max a fruit basket and an apology. He kind of saved my life. I didn't see it at the time, of course. Actually his tipping me off sent me veering off wildly in the opposite direction - the opposite direction to the tired little voice in my head. You know how it goes when you tell a teenager that she can't see that boy anymore, right?"

I stare at her. "You married him?"

She gives me a sad smile and nods. "Told you I was an idiot, didn't I?"

"Wow."

She sighs again and finishes her drink. "I woke up the next morning to a shitstorm of lawyers. My Dad descended with his entire legal team and then some. I was a married woman for all of twenty-four hours - that was how long it took them to convince Justin to sign the annulment papers."

I reach out and touch her knee. I mean it to be a friendly touch but there's no way I can keep thinking of her as a sheltered little kid. She was married, a thing so startlingly adult than I realize I'm pretty much doomed - she's a grown woman.

"I guess that was the second time I lost faith in him," she says. "I couldn't believe that he'd do that. He'd always told me that our love was the greatest, the most passionate, the most special. It was just one of the ways he controlled me. He knew how to fuck me so hard that I'd forget who I was." She runs her tongue over her top lip and gives me a look that I'm amazed to discover doesn't make me burst into flames. "You don't mind me telling you this, do you?"

I shake my head. My hand is still on her knee. If I remove it it'll be an admission that she's got to me.

"He used to tell me that he invented me," she says. "I was a virgin when I met him. He used to like to push his fingers inside me and say 'This is mine. This is all mine. I'm the only one who's been here.' He'd do it every chance he got - in the movie theater, in the car." Her hand covers mine and I don't dare look at her. When she speaks again there's a tremble in her voice.

"He used to like to drive in my convertible," she said. "With the top down. And me with a short skirt and no underpants. He'd tell me to pull up my skirt at the back and open my thighs a little so I could feel the leather upholstery against my..." She trails off. I hear her swallow. "And God help me," she said. "It used to get me so hot down there. I can feel it now, just thinking about it."

I don't want to know any more, I want to say. And I definitely don't want to hear any more about your ex. But she pulls my hand down her thigh, pressing it against her. She’s wearing thin yoga pants and I can feel the heat of her flesh through the material.

When I start to speak my mouth is so dry that I have to lick my lips to even get the words out. "I'm supposed to protect you."

She nuzzles her cheek against my shoulder like a cat. "I'm a big girl, Jaime," she whispers. "I can take care of myself." Her lips are on my earlobe, my jaw. Why did I ever think she was some sheltered little rich kid? She knows what the hell she's doing, and more besides. I don't dare move my hand, but she slides her own hand under mine, under her waistband. "I've been taking care of myself more and more lately," she says. "Ever since you came along. Isn't that funny?"

Her kiss carries the aftertaste of smoke, but I don't even care any more. I can feel her hand moving under mine as her breath quickens. "You wanna watch me?" she says. "You want to watch what I do when I'm thinking about you?"

I can't even remember if I'm supposed to nod or shake my head. My dick already feels like it's going to explode. Then the next thing I know she's off the couch and pulling her sweatshirt over her head, taking her t-shirt with it. "Bedroom," she says, walking away.

I stare at the fire for a moment. Should I put it out before going into the next room? Are you supposed to leave these things unattended? What if the whole place goes up while we're...distracted? Hell of a way to go, I guess. Oh God, what am I doing? The most beautiful girl I've ever seen has just taken her top off and asked me to join her in the bedroom, and I'm thinking about fire regulations?

Maybe I should keep thinking about that. Her yoga pants are on the floor. I already half know what's waiting for me in the bedroom, but still she takes me by surprise. She's lying naked on top of the covers, propped up against a pillow. Her skin glows softly in the lamplight. I don't think I've ever wanted a woman so much in my life.