by Kate Swain
I thrust into her, amazed at how tight and warm she felt. It was cozy in there, like coming home, and I drew out and pushed deeper again as her arms tightened around me. She whispered my name and made wordless sounds that mixed with the sound of our breath and spurred me on.
I pushed and pushed, loving how tight and wet she was. I went in and out, in and out, faster and faster.
I could feel her tightening around my cock while her body began to quiver. I gasped as we came, unable to believe the strength of my climax. She gripped me against her body, panting and sobbing, and we lay like that as our breath turned softer and our bodies relaxed.
“Whew,” I said. My voice shook.
She smiled. Her eyes held mine. I had never felt anything so intense, not as far as I could remember. It was amazing.
I lay looking into her eyes for a moment, and then, feeling impossibly tired, I rolled off her. My head was against hers and my arm was around her shoulders. I shut my eyes in a world of strawberry shampoo and felt myself drift off to sleep.
18
Amelia
I heard the sound of a truck backing up in the roadway. I opened my eyes and sat up. My memories were full of the night before. I looked around, wanting to ask Carter if he’d like some coffee.
There was nobody in there.
I stood up, feeling foolish. I looked around the room. My clothes were scattered around on the floor, my underwear in a neat pile on the chair by my dressing table. Carter’s t-shirt, which had been on the chair, was gone.
“Carter?” I called.
I checked the shower, but it was empty. I felt numb.
“I didn’t imagine that.” I felt annoyed at myself, but I knew he had been here, and I had wanted him to be here when I woke up. “He must have had something else to do today.”
I sighed and stepped into the shower. As I washed, I thought about the night before. His presence was written on my skin—the touch of his hands, his skin, his mouth. I dried myself off, feeling better.
“I’m sure he had to go somewhere,” I told myself firmly. I went through to the kitchen and made coffee. I drank it with my eyes shut, thinking about Carter. I recalled each second with him. As I started breakfast, I recalled how it all started with the creep cutting off the electricity the night before.
“Damn that guy.”
I was angry now. In broad daylight, my fear was replaced by cold outrage. How dare that guy sneak around here, trying to get me? I had no doubt about the identity of the culprit. Who else would have any cause to come here? The apartment had stood open for months. A thief who wanted to steal the television or microwave could have done it so much more easily weeks ago. No, the person who had come here came to hurt me.
I stood and poured myself another cup of coffee. It was Sunday, and I doubted that I could pick up an extra deadbolt at the local hardware store for the door. Besides, I didn’t want to go out on my own. Not yet. I was tired. I was a little scared. And I was confused by everything that had happened.
“He could at least have said something.”
I was sick of men who had no manners. Carter, after sleeping with his employee, could at least have left a note explaining why he had to go early. Or he could even have just left. We were both adults—at least I was, I thought wryly. Why was he so rude again? Just when I thought he was a good guy, too.
“Some people just have no manners, I guess.” Sadly, I felt my heart harden a little.
I ate my breakfast—the buttered toast and marmalade and yogurt, courtesy of Tanya who stocked my fridge when I moved in, was just what I needed to lift my mood. I had an idea.
“I’ll call Tanya.”
I pulled out my phone and asked her to come over. Thirty minutes later, she knocked on my door. She had pastries and a large coffee from the café near her apartment, and she floated in wearing a beautiful orange and red scarf wrapped around her neck.
“It’s chilly out there. Hell, girl! Good to see you.”
She sat down at the table, put a paper cup of coffee opposite me, and gave me a firm look.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Oh, Tanya…” I sniffed. To my shame, I started crying. Her strong, matter-of-fact presence was one thing, her kindness another. Having them combined, so kindly, was too much for me. I cried.
“Hey, girl! There, there. Cry if you have to. You can tell me about it when you’re ready,” Tanya said.
“Thanks,” I sniffed.
I sat and cried as she drank coffee, and then, as she reached for a muffin, I told her. I started with Carter’s afternoon visit, the brother’s generosity, the attempted break-in, and the magical night with Carter. I finished by telling her about waking up this morning and how Carter was nowhere to be found. Not a word, not a note, nothing. When I had come to the end of the story, I breathed easier. She looked furious.
“The dick,” she hissed. “I thought he was interested in you from the first time I laid eyes on him. To take advantage of you at a frightening moment… how dare he? I’d like to break his skull.” Her eyes flashed and I thought, for a moment, she’d try it.
I giggled. “Oh, Tanya,” I said gently. “You think… he liked me? I mean… I don’t know what to think.”
It was a stupid question, but Carter’s behavior had undermined my favorable impression of him and reminded me painfully of all his shitty behavior. He spent all his time at work avoiding or criticizing me, then he used me at a moment when I was scared and vulnerable. How else was I supposed to interpret his vanishing act this morning? But, as it was, I still had this strong feeling—odd though it seemed, that he deeply cared for me.
“Amelia!” Tanya giggled. “My friend, you need glasses. You must be blind if you have never noticed it before.”
“Noticed what?” I sipped my coffee. It was still warm and had a thick creamy foam floating on it. It made me feel better. “What haven’t I noticed?”
She grinned. “How he looks at you.” She did an impression of it, something like an exaggerated half-starved expression. Laughing, I pushed her hand.
“No, Tanya. He’s not like that. More like this.” I twisted my face into a scowling mask and made few grunts.
She laughed. “He’s just hiding his attraction to you. Trust me. I know his sort.” She raised a brow, sipping coffee as if it was champagne.
I laughed, and she giggled. Despite my doubts, I felt a bit better. I still didn’t believe her, and part of me still wished he’d come back to explain himself.
Tanya got up. “I have to run some errands this morning. Do you want to join me?”
“No, thank you,” I said. Part of me hoped Carter would return soon, and I did not want to miss him.
“Okay,” she said. She opened the front door, then turned her head towards me with a surprised look and said, “It seems like you have guests. I’ll catch you later. Maybe we can go shopping some other time.”
“Guests?” I tensed. Who could be here? My heart was filled with hope. I thought it might be Carter, coming to give some explanation for his rude behavior.
They greeted Tanya as she made her way to the bottom of the stairs.
“Morning, Amelia!” Matthew or Mark called up to me. I looked down with a twinge of disappointment and saw it was Matthew, coming up the stairs. He had a step ladder under his arm. Mark followed, holding a box of parts and wires. A lightbulb precariously protruded from the top.
“We’re going to put up motion-sensing lights,” Matthew said, as Mark set up the ladder and climbed up silently. “Carter told us someone tried to break in. This isn’t exactly perfect, but it’ll help until the police, or one of us, can catch that dickhead.”
“Thanks…” I murmured. I felt grateful and a little disappointed, which made me feel bad. Matt and Mark were the sweetest guys. They were kind and helpful, but they were not the ones I wanted to see right now. I really had thought Carter would come back.
I wanted Carter to say he was sorry.
“Can I make you gu
ys some coffee?” I asked hopefully, trying to keep my tone light, even though I knew it sounded fairly unhappy. Matthew, who was kneeling on the step, nodded with enthusiasm. Mark coughed.
“Yeah. That’d be great,” Matthew said hopefully.
“Please, Amelia,” Mark agreed.
I went inside and made two cups of coffee, glad that I even had two mugs along with me. My furnishings were still limited. I had no glasses, for example, a few plates, and only one teacup. I settled into my morning, slightly annoyed with Carter still, and began to organize my place.
I sat down with the guys as they had their coffee.
“We’ll ask some of the guys to keep watch here if you like?” Mark said, looking at me with a hopeful gaze.
“We don’t want anything to happen to you,” Matthew agreed. “Whoever this guy is, he’s bad news. If we catch him, we’ll teach him a lesson that he won’t forget. We’ll get the police involved if we have to.”
I shook my head, feeling tired. “Please, guys,” I said a little desperately. “I don’t want to think about him right now. Can we talk about something else?” Despite their friendly help, I still felt less than cheerful enough to face Matthew and Mark planning Luke’s demise.
Matthew shrugged. “Sure. It’s pretty cold out. I thought it might rain today, but the forecast says there will be light showers in the evening.”
“I see,” I nodded. Then the topic of winter tires for motorcycles came up and soon we were engaged in a fierce debate about whether or not it was necessary to put winter tires on your bike. It was an interesting topic.
“I don’t think so… provided that you don’t plan on going anywhere icy. Or snowy,” Matthew opined.
I listened to the conversation, though my thoughts drifted back to last night. I knew it was Luke. I just couldn’t figure out what he was planning to do. I shivered.
“Thanks for the coffee,” Mark said as he finished the last dregs of his drink. “I better get to work on those motion sensors. Matthew, feel free to join when you’re ready.”
Matthew got up not much later and began helping his brother. The pair worked quickly. I’m no light expert, but their installation looked as professional as anything I’d seen.
When the brothers had finished, I glanced down at my watch. “It’s almost twelve.”
“It is?” Matthew said as he glanced over his shoulder. “Hell. I promised my son I’d take him to the café. He’s with the neighbor. Sorry, guys,” he said, quickly making his descent down the ladder the brothers had been using for the lights. He ran inside and grabbed his jacket before heading to the door.
“Better run,” said Mark as he followed his brother’s lead. “I’ve got to take something to the post-office. They close at one p.m.”
“Thank you for all your help,” I said, standing as the brothers were leaving. “Thanks so much, guys,” I said as they made their way down the steps to leave.
“No problem,” Mark called back.
“If you need anything, you call us,” Matthew agreed. “Whatever it is. We want to help.”
“Thanks,” I called back.
I felt my heart twist painfully at that. They wanted to help. I had my doubts that Carter did. He just wanted to use me and then leave.
“I just wish I knew what to think.”
I glanced around my tiny place and wondered again what the hell Carter was doing. I wished I knew. Just once, I thought sadly, I wished he could tell me what he actually thought of me.
19
Carter
“Carter, you are an absolute shit-for-brains, stupid, arrogant fool,” I said aloud. My voice, punctuated by the thud of my fists on the punching bag I was hitting, slammed against the solid walls of the basement and fell, echoing across the desolate area. My wrist hurt. My fingers burned as they scraped on the hard exterior of the bag, but I didn’t care.
“Damn,” I swore as I hit harder. “Shit. Damn. Damn it.”
I punched the bag again, wincing as my knuckles ached. I was hitting too hard, and I knew it. I was going to mess up my hands if I carried on with it. I didn’t care. I was furious with myself.
“How dare you?” I shouted into the dark.
I was the lowest sort of creature, as bad as the scum that tried to break into Amelia’s house last night. I had taken advantage of her when she was scared. I should never have done that. I had overstepped the line of basic decency, and I hated myself for it.
I punched the bag again, feeling a sting as my knuckle was stopped by the weight of the bag. I gasped and stepped back, sighing as I ran out of energy.
“Shit,” I was panting. I had really overdone it, and now my shoulder—the one I’d damaged in my army years—ached, and my knuckle was skinned.
I heard the doorbell ring. My apartment was on the ground floor. I started to climb the stairs from the basement. The only person who might be here on the weekend was one of my brothers.
“I’m coming,” I yelled. Still in my shorts, my t-shirt in one hand, I opened the front door. Matthew was standing on the front step. With him was Connor, his son.
I frowned. “Matthew,” I said. “Connor. Hi, there.”
“Uncle!” Connor grinned up at me. I couldn’t help smiling at him. He was, in some ways, so like Matthew at his age that it melted my heart.
“Hi,” I said again. “Want to come in?”
“It’s cold outside,” Connor informed me firmly. “Why’re you dressed in so little clothes, uncle?”
I grinned and stroked his soft-haired head. Matthew picked him up and cuddled him close as he sat him down on the sofa.
“Uncle’s been working out,” he informed Connor solemnly. “Want to watch TV?” He pointed toward my dining room.
“Uncle has a bigger screen than we do, Daddy,” Connor informed my brother. “I like watching at his house. And he has popcorn.” He grinned at me.
“He doesn’t have any right now, but he can always make you some popcorn,” Matthew said, looking at Carter with a nod. I was very close to my nephew, and his ingenuous sweetness was just what I needed to distract me from my own pain now. I looked at Matthew, who grinned.
“Looks like you have a job, brother,” he said.
Matthew followed me into the kitchen.
When we made the popcorn, Connor watched TV in the living room, and my brother kept up an easy, one-sided banter about the weather and the weekend and how we were doing so well at work. I watched him carefully, not fooled by his show of nonchalance for an instant. I knew Matthew, and he was waiting for the right moment to address something big. He was mad at me, I thought, as I carried a bowl overflowing with hot buttered popcorn to my nephew.
“What?” I said tiredly. I sat down at the kitchen table. Matthew was already sitting there, a mug of tea in front of him. I noticed he’d made me some too. I glanced at the clock. It was four p.m. I sat down and caught his eye.
Matthew just looked at me. Suddenly, he sat up straight and looked me in the eye. “Somebody is messing up her life,” he said. “But it’s not that guy. She wasn’t upset about that. Tanya was over, she was fine. Amelia was upset about something else. She thought it was you calling, and she was hurt when it wasn’t you who turned up.” He stared at me.
“No,” I stammered. “That’s not it. Why would it be? She doesn’t even like me!” I felt my voice waver. Matthew was looking at me with that signature expression he saved for customers who did not tell the truth about what happened to their motorcycles.
“You’re hurting her,” Matthew said gravely. “I thought you might want to know that.”
“I know that,” I stammered. “I am fully aware that what I did was wrong.” I felt shame. I knew that—I really did. I felt weak and stupid.
“What you did?” Matthew asked. I cleared my throat.
I told him.
As I told him the series of events from last night, including our lovemaking, I sniffed. I felt bad. I was close to tears, I was so ashamed, but I was reluctant to let my
brother see my moment of weakness. He had lost enough respect for me as it was. I was surer than ever before that Amelia was better off without me.
“…and I ran off this morning without a word,” I finished. “What else could I do? Amelia deserves better than me.”
Matthew was silent. He sat there for so long that I thought he despised me as much as I despised myself. Then he spoke.
“Probably,” he said. “I think that, too. But the fact is, she cares about you. And you’ve just made a horrible mess. You should do something about it, and soon.”
“I know,” I murmured. I wanted to do something about it. Really, I did. But what could I do? Anything I did, as far as I could tell, would only serve to create more trouble. Amelia was way out of my reach.
She was young and beautiful with the world at her feet. I didn’t deserve her, and I was worried I’d ruin her life by inserting myself into her world.
“You can fix it, Carter, if you want to,” Matthew said. “But I think you are ultimately afraid of being hurt. Get over it and yourself. This is your chance for love.” He stood up and I watched him walk across the kitchen, the sunlight from the kitchen window shining on his back.
“I can try,” I murmured somewhat pathetically.
“I know you can,” Matthew said, fixing me with a firm stare from the doorway. “You could always fix everything, ever since we were small children.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But this is harder.”
My world had been simple in those days, and there was nothing in it I couldn’t fix. Now, with feelings and people and emotions and danger involved, I was less confident. I was less sure of myself. I seemed destined to keep on breaking things.
“I should go,” Matthew said. “Connor needs to get home early so he can have supper.”
“I don’t want supper,” a sleepy voice said from the hallway. “I want to stay here and eat popcorn. Where’s uncle Carter gone?”
“I’m here,” I said gently, bending down and smiling into my nephew’s round eyes. “I was just chatting with your dad in the kitchen.”