Just a Number(32)

“Good call,” she agrees, leaning forward and lifting the lid off of the roasted vegetables and inhaling deeply. “Owen, this is amazing.”

Over dinner, I tell Amelia about my day, telling her that I’ve spoken with Stephen again and he’s started drawing up the divorce papers and has even been in contact with Gretchen’s attorney. I don’t dwell on this part of the conversation for long, because it’s really not how I want our evening to go. I change the topic, asking about her study session with Liz.

By the time our plates are empty, we’ve almost polished off the entire bottle of wine, and I can see that the wine is having the same effect on her that it is on me; her eyes are slightly hooded and her posture is a little more relaxed as she leans back in her chair and eyes me from across the table…then I feel her foot slowly sliding up my jean-covered leg until it rests in my lap.

She smiles, sinking her teeth into her plump lower lip and eyeing me coyly. “I missed you,” she confesses, lightly running her foot over the fly of my jeans and making my cock stir.

Shifting in my chair to get a little more comfortable, I clear my throat. “The feeling was more than mutual, sweetheart.”

Amelia places her foot back on the floor and pushes her chair away from the table, the feet scraping over the tile as she stands and slinks toward me. She straddles my lap and wraps her arms around my neck, leaning in and ghosting her lips over mine. “Well, what do you say we…reconnect in an effort to get rid of that loneliness?”

Laughing softly, I nod, my nose brushing hers softly. “I think I like it when you talk dirty,” I reply, letting my lips graze a fiery trail over her jaw and toward her ear.

With a soft sigh, Amelia cups my face in her hands and forces my eyes to hers. “Oh, you think that was dirty? You haven’t even heard the half of it.”

She crushes her lips to mine, and I groan, my hands ensnaring her hips and pulling her against my growing erection. Admittedly, it’s not the most comfortable feeling in the world, having my dick trapped behind a denim prison, but Amelia’s quick to wiggle back a little so she can unfasten my jeans. With my fly wide open, Amelia yanks my shirt up my body, forcing my hands from her hips until she’s removed it. She throws it on the floor before ridding her body of her own top and leaving her above me in a black lacy bra. It’s so sheer that I can see the dark pink flesh of her hardened nipples, and my hands fly to them like magnets.

Amelia throws her head back as I palm her sensitive flesh through the lacy undergarment, and I crave more from her. While I lean forward, I tug the right cup of her bra from her tit and place my mouth on her nipple, letting my tongue circle and flick the pebbled peak. She fists my hair, holding my mouth against her warm flesh, while my free hand moves down her body, unfastens her jeans, and slips inside to find her already wet. I move my fingers back and forth as much as I can between her legs, and her hips move in time with me.

“Oh, Owen,” she sighs, resting her head on top of mine as I move my mouth to her other breast and discard her bra to the floor.

My teeth graze her hardened flesh at the same time I circle her clit, and she gasps, thrusting her hips forward again, making the chair tip back a little and knock against the table…or, at least I thought it was the chair knocking on the table until there were three more knocks that came from the front door.

Panting and startled, Amelia and I turn our heads toward the door and look at it as though we’re waiting for it to burst open and have our secret revealed to whoever’s behind it. Nothing happens right away, but soon four more loud knocks echo through the apartment, mirroring the pounding of my heart against my ribs.

As if the unannounced guest isn’t enough to deal with, the knowledge of who it is only adds to my distress.

“Owen! It’s me!” Alan says through the door. “Open up. I know you’re home.”

Amelia inhales sharply, holding her breath and slapping her hands over her mouth. “Oh, god,” she mumbles through her fingers. “What the hell are we going to do?” She’s panicking. I can see it in her eyes and feel it in the tremble of her thighs.

“Easy,” I whisper, easing her off my lap, handing her shirt to her, and pulling mine on as well. “Head to the bedroom and close the door. I’ll get rid of him.”

Amelia nods, pulling her sweater over her head and dashing down the hall to wait as I adjust my dick and do up my pants. Things have the potential to blow up in our faces right now, and I’m trying to remain calm for the both of us. Once I reach the door, I unlock it and pull it open, forcing a smile that I pray comes across as genuine and not nervous.