by C. T. Oliver
I wrap my arms around her waist. “Come on silly girl, let’s get you some coffee and breakf—” I lose my train of thought when my hands run over her firm bottom. “Shit, baby. What are you wearing under there?” I feel my breath quickly picking up.
“Just a little garter belt to hold up my stockings,” she says with her hands roaming across my chest.
I bunch up her skirt and fall to my knees in front of her. “Jesus, baby. How am I supposed to focus in the courthouse today knowing you’re wearing this?” I nuzzle my nose to her apex loving how wet she is already.
“I guess you’re just going to have to concentration and wait since you don’t want to skip school.” She folds her arms across her chest and smirks at me.
I place a kiss on top of her lace-clad clit before standing up to kiss her smirking lips. “I’ll make it worth your wile. Now, breakfast.”
“God, you’re such a tease!” Amelia walks off slowly into the kitchen.
I drape my coat on the back of one of the stools and follow after her. “What does your schedule look like today?”
“Department meeting and then I have to meet with my advisor to discuss a project that will be my master’s thesis.” Amelia lets out a long sigh. “Then I have to lecture in the afternoon.”
“You don’t have a thesis?” I ask, getting the egg whites and vegetable out for the scramble.
“No. My advisor has been more than patient with me, but I think he’s getting anxious about me not making up my mind.” A sad look crosses her face.
“Can I ask why you don’t have your mind made up?” I eye her closely.
Amelia hands Larry his kibble and busies herself getting his water. “I just,” she shrugs. “I want to do something that makes a difference.” She looks at me with a worried look in her eyes, expecting for me not to understand. “I know if I step into the pharmaceutical field I can make a difference. That the research will change or help someone’s life, but it’s not the same,” Amelia exclaims with frustration dripping from her voice.
“What will make you feel differently?” I ask casually as I start our breakfast. I don’t want to push her because I understand the frustration. I’ve been there, so have Ben and Cory. It’s beyond frustrating to know you’re capable and want to help others, but you don’t know what to do or where you’re needed. For Amelia, someone who’s so giving, it must be more than frustrating. She must feel lost.
“What?” Amelia turns around to look at me from the sink.
“You said that you can see yourself making a difference if you were to enter the pharmaceutical field, but it’s not the same. So what will make you feel differently?” I ask calmly, not wanting to get her anxious.
“I don’t know. If I knew that, I’d know what I’m supposed to do.” She starts the kettle for the coffee. “I want to do something that, at the end of the day, makes me feel alive and feel that a day of my life wasn’t wasted,” she says in the small voice. She sounds like a lost little girl and my heart aches for her.
I turn around and hug her. “We’ll get you there. You know that if you need anything, I’m here for you, right?” Amelia nods and offers me a little smile then goes about making coffee while I finish up the eggs.
“What about you? You’re going to be at the courthouse?” she asks between bites of eggs and toast.
“Yeah, I’m going to be shadowing an attorney today. Basically, I’m his bitch. Writing briefs and doing shit he doesn’t want to do. When it’s all said and done, he gets the credit.” I pout playfully.
Amelia laughs and leans forward to give me a kiss. “Well, when you get home there will be a nice dinner waiting for you.”
“Will you let me take off your stockings?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her.
“As long as I get to tear into your suit,” she winks.
I pretend to think it over. “I’ll take your deal if you lose the panties. Now,” I smirk.
Amelia scrunches her lips to the side trying to hide her smile. “Okay,” she says sweetly as she sashays away from me a bit. When she is just out of my grasp she turns while lifting up her skirt to shimmy out of her thong. She gives me a nice view of her cute bottom when she bends over to pick up her panties. “Now, what time will you be home?” She asks as she sways her hips back to stand between my legs.
“I should be done by seven, but that’s debatable.” I nuzzle my nose under her chin to take in her scent.
“Okay, I should be home by five.” I can feel her hand pushing into my pants pocket. “In case you don’t remember our deal for tonight.” She gives me one last kiss on the cheek before clearing the dishes.
“Amelia, until my dying day, I’m never going to forget the sight of you in stockings standing there just for me,” I smile widely and push her thong further into my pocket for safekeeping.
I sit in the courthouse’s lunchroom looking over the afternoon docket when I get a text from Amelia.
Amelia A.: It is drafty out today babe. Please make sure you’re suitably dressed.
Craig P.: It’s wet out, too. Please make sure you are as well.
Amelia A.: CRAIG! Way to be subtle babe.
Craig P.: I call it like how I want it. LOL how was your meeting?
Amelia A.: Like I expected. My advisor is giving me until the end of the month to settle on a project. :( How’s your brief coming along?
Craig P.: Tight since I just remembered what was in my pocket.
Amelia A.: Oh dear, now I can’t focus.
Craig P.: LOL I’ll see you tonight baby. XO
I casually slip into the stadium lecture hall and slide into a firm wooden seat in the back row and settle in to watch Amelia at work. I watch as she stands in front of the fully packed 200-seat hall and presents slide after slide of introduction to chemistry material. She only stops here and there to answer questions or to clarify a point. Amelia is authoritative and professional to her students at the same time she’s welcoming and friendly. She’s even cracking jokes to connect with her students.
Looking around I see all the male students fully focused on her every move and hanging onto every one of her explanations. Feelings of jealousy creeps up. The rush of adrenalin tingles down my spine making me anxious in my seat until a particular set of bottomless onyx eyes meet mine. God, this is what she does to me, calms me with just a look. Caught by surprise, Amelia stumbles a few of her words but continues to finish up the lecture flawlessly with a little cute smile on her face. Adorable.
At the end, when every student piles out the door, one particular male student practically staggers down the stairs to talk to Amelia. The student, almost as tall as me with light brown hair, speaks enthusiastically making Amelia laugh as I step closer to her.
Amelia’s eyes brighten as she sees me nearing her. “Baby, are you ready?” I lean forward giving her a peck on the cheek.
“Sure. Just let me grab my things.” She smiles and turns to the student who is glaring at me. “Jason, it’s a pleasure to have you in my class. If you have any questions feel free to email me.”
“Sure, Professor Adler. I might drop by and speak to you during office hours if I have questions on the lab experiment.” Jason looks after Amelia like a lost puppy.
“Please call me Amelia. Umm, sure. Most people don’t have trouble with the first few weeks of lab. It’s pretty straight forward, but you’re welcome to stop by.” Amelia offers Jason a polite smile.
“Thank you. I’ll see you then.” Jason offers Amelia his hand; she gently shakes it before turning to gather her things. I give Jason a stern look that has him bowing his head and turning to leave. There’s thinking your professor is hot, but this is something different. It doesn’t feel right.
“What was that all about?” I ask, wrapping my arm around Amelia’s waist. I pull her closer to me as we head out the building and step into the gray Portland skies.
“I don’t know. A very excited student, I guess,” she shrugs and looks up at me. “You got out early. I didn’t get t
o surprise you with dinner.” She goes up on her tippy toes in her Burberry rain boots to give me a kiss. “Mmm, did someone have a Flying Elephant roast beef sandwich for lunch?” She smiles knowingly at me.
“It’s your fault. You had to introduce me to one of the best places for sandwiches in downtown Portland.” We turn and start heading towards the apartment. “How about I treat you to dinner tonight?” I smile liking my idea and knowing the perfect place to take her.
“I don’t know…on a law student’s budget? Are you taking me to McDonald’s for the dollar menu?” She laughs at her own joke.
“You wound me, Amelia. If you must know they do have an impressive value menu.” I try to hold on to my stern look. “And for that I’m going to take you there for dessert. I can get you two apple pies.” I can no longer hold it in and start chuckling. “Hey, what’s wrong?” My stomach drops at the sight of her looking away from me and dropping her head.
“I didn’t mean to offend you.” Amelia reluctantly looks up at me.
I pull her closer and stop her from taking another step. “You didn’t. Why would you think that I’m offended?”
Amelia shrugs and pays close attention to a button on my trench coat. “Money changes people. It makes them see the world differently. Sometimes that’s all people care about and they lose sight of other’s around them. They hone in on it, chase after it, not caring who they leave behind in the process. People treasure it, so it’s sensitive to some when you suggest they don’t have much of it.”
My gut tightens listening to Amelia open up little bit of herself to me. I instantly recognize that someone must have left her behind while chasing after money. “Amelia. You’re saying things that I already know.” I pull her into a fierce hug. “Why do you think Cory and I joined the military?”
“I don’t know, because it was the cheapest way to feed Cory?” Amelia mumbles into my chest.
I chuckle. “No silly girl. Come on, let’s get you inside and I’ll tell you all about it.” I pull her into Higgins and happy to see they could seat us without reservations.
“So, why did you and Cory join the Army?” Amelia asks after taking a sip of her white wine.
“We wanted to get our hands dirty and help see where the dollars were really spent.” I say as I play with my tumbler of scotch. “When we were little, dad would always take us to these galas and auctions to fundraise money for non-profit organizations, charities, or whatnot. And then the next day, mom would take us to the soup kitchens or shelters to volunteer. See when you go to the dinners and auctions, it’s all ‘prettied’ up. You’d think it’s glamorous to help people, but in reality, it’s not. It’s odorous, it’s bloody, and leaves you with nightmares. But at that level, that’s where you see things get done and the true value of a dollar. See, mom wanted us to see the difference between helping people with money and actually helping people with our bare hands and which would give us more gratification. But through all her work, mom taught us that we could always make money, it comes and goes, but the people that we help, their relieved faces, no amount of money can buy that.”
“De Oppresso Libre,” Amelia holds her wine glass out.
I clink my glass to hers. “Only you would know the Special Forces’ motto off the top of your head.”
“I know the important things in life,” Amelia states with a small smile. “So you guys joined the Army to get your hands dirty?”
“That and to feed Cory, yes.” Amelia’s smile brings warmth to my heart. “It’s cheesy, but when you see it for yourself, you’ll believe.”
“In the future, you don’t care if you are poor, as long as you can help people with your knowledge and skills?”
“I don’t imagine myself making a lot of money advocating for better health care for veterans or others. With that being said, you yourself know how big the health care industry is.”
“Oh, that is such a lawyer answer,” she laughs and shakes her head.
I reach my hands across the table for hers. “Again, with that being said, please know that I can take care of myself, and you, if need be.”
“Craig, now you’re being silly. I can take care of myself.” Amelia smiles and gives a firm nod with her statement.
“I’m not saying that you can’t, considering I’m the one crashing at your place, but if you needed help with the bills…”
Amelia shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about this. If you want to help out, you can cook me breakfast.” She smiles brightly. “Oh, and walk around in your suits.”
“Done, now what are you getting for dinner? I remember we still have a deal to uphold when we get home.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her making her a blush slightly.
I turn over to run my hand down Amelia’s back only to get a handful of cold sheets. I let my eyes adjust to the darkness and look over to her side of the bed to find a mountain of pillows. Sitting up, I can hear the click-clacking of her typing on the keyboard downstairs.
It’s been almost a month since Amelia and I came back from Pacific Shores and I couldn’t be happier. I wake up every morning to her beautiful smile and warmth, and every night, no matter how late we have to stay up to study or work, we always fall back into each other’s arms. Amelia has even introduced me to her aunts and uncles. It felt a lot like being interviewed by Larry King, very impersonal and strictly business, but it helped build the trust in our relationship. Fortified with the information Blu has given me, I gave Amelia support and stuck by her for every question that was thrown our way and by the end of dinner she was content and happy.
Day by day, Amelia is becoming more open with me. She started talking more about her mom and her feelings when her mom passed. Though she’s still reluctant, she has mentioned her father and how they’ve started communicating more, even though it’s still via email.
Downstairs, the light from the MacBook screen contrasts with the yellow glow of the work lamp casting light to the living room. Amelia’s leather chair is facing the city of Portland twinkling in the dark Spring night outside the glass-paneled wall.
“Baby?” I call out so not to scare her as I cross the living room. Amelia turns the chair to show her nestled in the wide seat. Her legs are curled under her and she’s wrapped in the cream afghan. Her face has a look of caught-up-late-snacking with wild bed hair, wide round eyes behind thick glasses and a corner of a Hot Pocket clamped between her lips. She couldn’t look any more beautiful to me. In her lap, Larry is chewing on the other corner of the Hot Pocket.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask, scooping her and Larry up in my arms and taking the seat with her in my lap.
“No,” she says, taking one last bite. “I have until the end of this week to at least provide a brief idea of a field of research I’m interested in.”
“Can I ask you something?” I ask, holding her closer to me.
“Sure, anything.” She sits up to let a wiggly Larry off her lap.
“How come you don’t like guns?”
She raises an eyebrow at me. “That came out of nowhere. You being smart as you are, I think you can assume why.”
“No, I don’t like to make an ass out of myself.” I try to hold on to my stern look, but my smile is ruining it.
She lets out a little laugh. “Okay, Mr. I-must-have-all-the-facts.”
“Amelia, a good lawyer is not going to come to court unprepared. Now, stop avoiding the subject. Why won’t you touch a gun?” I pull her closer to me so I can place a peck on her cheek.
“Father was always gone, Craig. He was always off to fight another war, another battle because of those things. He was skilled, probably still is, with them and that took him away from me—and mom,” she says softly with tears at the corner of her eyes. “Now, he’s off somewhere hating himself for not being there when he had mom.” I can feel the anger stiffening her body with every word.
“Is that why you won’t touch that Smith & Wesson 1911?”
She looks at me with surprised eyes. “You found it?”
“Baby, it wasn’t hard to find. The wooden box is right next to the Army Field Manuals on your bookcase,” I say dryly. “We need to get you a lock on that thing.”
She shrugs. “It’s not loaded. Father wanted me to have it for protection. He’s always saying, ‘You can pull a trigger faster than draw a bow.’” Amelia uses air quotations to make her point.
“Amelia, you can and that’s a hell of a piece of weaponry. Your father is a man of American traditions.” I rub her back offering her comfort. “But what surprised me more is that the manual is read and highlighted with girly handwriting, especially the section on IEDs and unexploded ordnance. Now, if I didn’t know who your father or Godfather is, I would be a little scared of you, I’m not going to lie,” I say in a joking voice. “Explain, please.”
“Were you one of those annoying interrogators in the Army?” she asks, eyeing me over the rim of her glasses.
“I’m a lot better than Cory, I promise. Now, what’s the interest?” I smirk.
Amelia lets out a long sigh. “When I was little, I idolized father and Tim. They were my real life heroes. They still are. I would tag along everywhere they went, whenever they were home. I think father loved it. They would talk about their jobs sometimes. At that time, during Desert Storm, IEDs were just a thing of imagination or still in its infancy, but they were an idea. With the little time that I did get to spend with them, certain things stuck and over the years I stayed current with the news and other military sources to see what became of the idea.” Amelia shakes her head. “Such intellect used to harm others, it’s a waste.”
“You admire them. The work of these IEDs,” I state calmly.
“Don’t be ridiculous, no.” She looks at me with narrowed eyes. “I just think, if put in the right environment those intellectuals could do so much good, rather than inflicting suffering.”