Just a Number(44)

“Just finished,” she informs me, tilting her head back and standing on her toes for a kiss.

Unable to resist, I pull her close, my arms circling her slender waist as I appease her silent request by gently pressing my lips to hers. “How was your night?”

She pushes her lower lip out into a playful pout and sighs. “Lonely… But things are starting to look up.”

I laugh lightly as she presses her lips to my neck, working her way up and along my jaw. “Well, if we don’t head out now, there’ll be a hell of a lot more things ‘looking up.’”

As if she’s trying to kill me, she nibbles on my ear lobe. “Who says that’s not on my itinerary?”

“Amelia.” My voice is low and gruff, a warning that I’m on the verge of losing control. Instead of worrying her, I can see she takes delight in her triumph. “We really don’t have time.”

“Just give me three minutes,” she murmurs. “I promise it’ll be the best three minutes of your life…so far.” And, with that, I lock the deadbolt behind my back before I grab her ass and lift her off the ground so her feet dangle, carrying her to the bed.

Of course, three minutes turns into thirty awfully quick, but neither one of us seem too saddened by the delay. We’re too caught up in each other to really care, quite honestly, and we lose all sense of time as my hands explore her skin. My lips and teeth follow their path over her supple body as I strip both of us naked and take her in almost every way imaginable. Once both of us are satiated for the moment and breathing heavily through the wake of our orgasms, we hop in the shower. Naturally, this brings on a round of hot and steamy shower sex where I press Amelia against the cool tile wall and wrap her legs tightly around my waist as I thrust into her until she’s screaming my name. Say goodbye to another thirty minutes on the clock

If we keep this up, we won’t be arriving at Alan’s until sometime late tonight. This means we’d miss the annual Christmas Eve party, and I’d hate to risk that considering he’s been hosting them for as long as either of us can remember.

We get dressed and head down to the car after peeling ourselves away from each other. I wish I could say this was merely a figure of speech, but considering we’d just spent the last hour with our sweaty bodies pressed so tightly together that not even a breeze could pass between us, I’d say it’s a fairly accurate description.

Once we’re out of the city, and I don’t have to shift gears every time we hit a red light, I reach over and take Amelia’s hand; I plan to take full advantage of being in contact with her right up until we hit that damn sign.

“So, did your dad tell you that Carla and her kids would be joining us?” I ask once we hit the highway.

Smiling, she leans her head back on the headrest and stares at me. “I figured as much,” she responds. “It’s been obvious for some time that he’s had feelings for Carla. I think it’s great.”

“Yeah, my sister will be happy,” I announce. “She’s been saying for a while now that they’re perfect for each other. She’ll be thrilled when she sees them together.”

Suddenly, Amelia sits upright, posture rigid. Something snapped her out of her contented state. “Julia is coming tonight.” It’s not a question.





15. Weakness



I sit in nervous silence for a minute, the very real possibility of our not being able to keep this secret finally coming to light.

“Yeah, but you already knew that, sweetheart,” Owen says, confused.

Don’t get me wrong; I love Julia. She’s the best. She’s always taken me shopping, and she was there for me through my teen years when I had questions about sex and boys. Mom and Dad split up when I was seven. Neither one of them harbored any ill-will toward the other, and everything was pretty amicable, right down to who retained custody of me. They’d presented me with my options—Portland with Dad, or Texas with Mom—and I made my choice to live with Dad, visiting Mom whenever school would allow for it. I’d heard stories growing up about parents who split up, and it all sounded so…ugly. Even watching Owen and Gretchen go through this—without children—makes me so thankful that my parents were both grown-up enough to admit they just weren’t meant to be together forever.

They’re both happy now, and that’s all that matters.

Because I was so young when they divorced, my mom wasn’t around to talk with me about sex and boys when I was ready. Sure, my dad tried to be all “hip and happening” (his words, not mine), but there was just something deeply disturbing about your dad trying to have “the talk” with you. That’s where Julia came in.