My lower abdomen constricts as my release nears, and when her muscles tighten around my shaft, it’s all over, both of us moaning through our mutual orgasms. I collapse on top of her, trying to rest my weight more to the side to keep from suffocating her, and her fingers dance through the short hairs at the nape of my neck as she sighs.
Her heart beats a steady rhythm, soothing me as the ticklish sensation lulls me to sleep. I don’t even realize I’ve dozed off until Amelia giggles and gently nudges me off of her.
“You’re starting to drool,” she teases, swinging her legs over the bed as I move onto the side I’ve claimed as my own to watch her walk to the washroom. I wipe the side of my mouth, feeling mortified when I realize she was right; I was starting to drool. “I’ll be right back, and then we can curl up and go to sleep.”
When she emerges, she passes her bag and grabs her phone, likely to set her alarm for the morning. She turns it on and climbs back into bed, pulling the covers up under her arms and concealing her chest from me while she finishes with her phone. As she lowers her hands to her lap, her eyes go wide, and she slowly turns to me.
Concerned and confused by her expression, I sit up, but I don’t have to wait long for her to explain.
“My dad texted me,” she says.
“Impressive,” I reply, kissing her shoulder. “Looks like he’s getting the hang of his new phone.”
“Yeah…” Her eyes fall back to the screen, shock clearly reflected in her eyes. “He’s coming to the city tomorrow, and he wants to talk to us…together.”
I inhale sharply, unsure how I should take that news. This could either be very good, or very, very bad.
28. Afternoon Delight
“Hello…?” Liz says, her voice breaking through the daze I’d apparently stumbled into.
The truth is, ever since I got that text message from my dad last night, I’ve hardly been able to focus on anything else. I’m pretty sure I bombed—or at least barely passed—my Psych exam, and poor Liz has been going on about her birthday plans this weekend. Meanwhile my mind has been everywhere else.
Our last class just let out, so Liz and I are killing time in the library before she drops me off at Owen’s house, where we’d agreed to meet Dad that evening. Owen is going to cook Dad’s favorite—beer-battered fish—and hopefully butter him up a little and avoid a Dad-battered Owen.
“Sorry,” I reply, giving her my best puppy dog eyes and begging for forgiveness. “This thing with my dad’s got me freaking out. He wants to talk to Owen and me tonight, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“Don’t worry about it. I know you’ve got a lot going on right now…” She looks at me imploringly. “But you’ll be there Friday night, right? At my party? Invite Owen if you want…as long as you think he won’t mind hanging out with a bunch of twenty-somethings.”
I laugh. “I’ll run it by him. And yes, of course I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Good!” Liz exclaims. “I’m so frickin’ excited about this! I heard this club is the place to be. Everyone’s going to be there. Matt’s even making the trip from back home.”
“You guys going to rekindle things?”
“Nah, but if the night offers up the opportunity for stellar sex, then I’m not going to shy away from it.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to,” I say, still not sure what she really sees in him.
Liz rattles off the guest list, and this time I try my hardest to pay attention. I’m particularly pumped when I hear our old friend from high school, Justin, is coming. We didn’t get the opportunity to see him often since, after graduation, he decided to go to school in New York.
“He’s bringing his new boyfriend,” Liz tells me. “Has he told you anything about him?”
I shake my head. “Nope. The last email I got from him was around Christmas…when my life went ape-shit.” The tension in my body builds again and my hands tremble with nervousness. “I’m so scared about tonight, Liz.”
“No kidding,” she says, her eyebrows pulling together with worry. “You’re wound tighter than a spring. Do you plan to spend some time with Owen before your dad shows up?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Not much, I guess. I was going to show up and help with dinner, and Dad is supposed to show up around seven.”
Liz looks at her watch. “So it’s three now, and when is Owen home?”
“He’s done at the office at five.”