Just a Number(64)

Before I can reply, I hear the shower stop and the sound of the metal shower rings sliding across the bar. Smiling, I kiss her softly once more before pulling away. “To be continued.”

Reluctantly, Amelia and I part ways—she to the kitchen and I back to the living room—and soon Alan wanders down the stairs. Amelia and I offer to help him clean up the living room and take down all of the Christmas decorations before we leave, so we spend the next couple hours doing that. He never once brings up Amelia’s relationship again.

As soon as the house is back in order, I suggest that we should get on the road, and Amelia agrees. It’s obvious she’s trying to rein in her eagerness to go, but at the same time, I can see how much she hates saying goodbye to her father.

Alan hugs Amelia after she puts her jacket on. “I’ll be up in a couple of days,” he tells her. “You did promise me breakfast, after all.”

Amelia laughs softly, pulling out of his embrace and picks up her bag. “Good.”

Alan turns to me and nods. “Drive safe,” he says, the look in his eyes reminding me that I’ll have his daughter in my car with me and that he values her life even above his own.

What he doesn’t realize is that I feel exactly the same way.

After I assure him that it’s not my intention to drive recklessly, we say goodbye, and Amelia and I haul our bags out to the car. Alan watches from the doorway as Amelia and I get into the car and buckle up, both turning and waving to him before pulling away from the house and making our way toward the highway. The second the house is out of view, Amelia reaches over and takes my hand, sighing as she rests her head back against the seat and looks at me.

I can feel her happiness pulsing through her veins as she squeezes my hand, and I bring her hand to my lips for a kiss. “Just a few hours and we’ll be back in Seattle,” I tell her, briefly glancing at her before returning my eyes to the road. “How would you feel about going to my place tonight?”

“It doesn’t matter to me where we go,” she replies, her voice low and husky, “so long as we’re alone to do whatever we please to one another.” She sits up and moves closer to me, leaning over the console to whisper in my ear while I struggle to keep my eyes—and the car—on the road. “Now, why don’t you pick up the pace so you can get started doing all the naughty things you’ve fantasized about these past few days.”

Her words, as always, shoot straight through me as I commit the tenor, as well as what she’s said, to memory. The way she speaks and acts so openly about sex always renders me incapable of speech right away. I’ve never been with anyone like her. She excites me more than any other woman I’ve ever been with, and I am so glad I chased after her all those weeks ago.

There are several times while I drive along the highway that the sexual tension thickens the air enough to make me contemplate pulling over. I would give nothing more than to do just that, especially when I look over at Amelia to find her staring at me, her eyes bright and mischievous, but know that I can’t. Why not? Well, because we’d run the risk of a cop finding my Lexus on the side of the road, the windows likely fogged up while the vehicle rocks wildly. Not only do I not want to get fined for parking (is that what the kids are still calling it?), but with Alan being a well-known paramedic in Portland, there’s no guarantee he won’t hear about this.

This is all I need to keep the car on the road and my thoughts on how I plan to expel all of this sexual energy that continues to thrum through every square inch of my body.

“Do you need to stop by your place for anything?” I ask, hoping to strike up some kind of conversation in an attempt to keep my thoughts from wandering to what I have planned for the two of us back at my apartment.

“Mmm…” She contemplates my question. “Nope. I think I’m good. As long as I can throw a load of laundry in at your place, that is.”

“Of course,” I reply, glancing over at her. “I’ve got a private washer and dryer in my walk-in closet, actually.”

She smiles. “How convenient.” A brief silence falls between us before Amelia sits up straight, turning slightly to face me a little more. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

I hear the serious lilt to her voice, and my eyebrows pull together, curious. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

She pauses for a moment, seeming to think about what it is she wants to ask. “Has Stephen said anything to you? You know, about us?”

Stunned, my gaze snaps to hers. “No, why? Has he said something to you?”