Just a Number
Page 6
“Amelia…” My voice is low and soft. “If I didn’t feel this was worth pursuing, would I have broken the speed limit trying to get to you after you left Portland this afternoon?”
Her cheeks turn pink, and she bites her bottom lip lightly. “I suppose not.”
Glancing over her shoulder, I see that we’re closing in on two in the morning, and I pull the blanket up over us both. “Now, let’s get some sleep and just agree to let this all unfold naturally, okay?”
Amelia pecks my cheek before placing her head on my shoulder and rubbing her hand over my chest lightly. “Deal. Goodnight, Owen.”
Pressing my lips to the top of her head, I inhale the sweet smell of her shampoo and let my eyes fall closed. “Goodnight.”
11. Listen to Your Heart
It’s the most restful sleep I’ve ever had—even if it was a few hours shorter than what I’m normally used to—and it isn’t until an incessant buzzing on the bedside table wakes me up that I realize why.
Owen’s here. In my bed. Holding me in his arms. The events of the night before come flooding back, and I smile, turning my face into his chest and inhaling his musky scent.
I know that the two of us being together should feel wrong, but the more distance I had put between us, the more it hurt. So, if anything felt wrong, it was being apart…even if us embarking on this adventure together might seem unconventional to some people. My dad, for example.
Owen’s phone vibrates again, and he growls, his chest rumbling against my face. “Good god. Who the hell is calling me this damn early?”
I giggle, lifting my face and resting my chin on his shoulder as he reaches for his phone. “You’re kind of a bear in the morning, aren’t you?”
Running his hand over his weary face, he looks down at me and smiles. “Sorry. I just hate it when I’m woken up from such a deep sleep.”
“Noted,” I affirm with a nod before sitting up. His eyes trail down my body, stopping on the exposed skin of my upper body as I stretch my arms over my head. “I’m going to hop in the shower before I have to head to class.” I hold out my hand toward him, smiling coyly. “Care to join me?”
Owen chuckles, the outer corners of his baby blue eyes creasing. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep up with your sexual appetites,” he confesses, placing his hand on my bare knee instead of in my hand, his thumb moving back and forth over the smooth skin.
Letting my mouth fall open in mock-insult, I stare at him. “Hey, I didn’t say we were going to do it… I mean, I hadn’t entirely ruled it out, either…I was only inviting you for some clean and wholesome shower-time fun.”
“Hmmm,” he hums softly, the sound moving like a gentle vibration under my skin. “Something tells me that any activity that involves you and me naked together is going to result in anything but clean and wholesome, Amelia.”
“Fair enough,” I concur, “but I really do need to shower and head to class.”
Owen nods. “Go ahead and start without me. I’ll join you as soon as I check my messages.”
My cheeks hurt from my incredibly wide smile, and I lean forward to kiss him before hopping off the bed and heading for the bathroom. “Okay!”
I leave the bathroom door open a crack before I turn the shower on to let the water warm, and I brush my teeth before Owen joins me, because, really, morning breath is the worst. After my teeth are clean, I hop behind the shower curtain and wet my hair before lathering it up with shampoo. I’ve just begun to rinse the suds from my hair when I hear the bathroom door creak and the latch click into place. I peek around the curtain and smile when I see Owen at the sink with his black leather toiletries bag, digging through it and producing his toothbrush, toothpaste, and shaving supplies.
“Leave the scruff,” I speak up, causing him to look in my direction and furrow his brow. “I like it.”
Owen chuckles, but he puts his razor and shaving cream back in the bag. “You got some kind of fetish I should know about?”
My laugh bounces off the tile walls of my bathroom, and my cheeks warm. “Not exactly…I just like the way it feels against my skin.”
Intrigued by my response, Owen concedes and brushes his teeth quickly and then makes his way over to join me in the shower. I can’t seem to take my eyes off him as he walks across the tile floor completely naked. He’s not only good-looking with a physique most men my age would desire, but his confidence only adds to his sex appeal.
When he pulls the curtain back to step inside, a blast of cool air hits my skin, making it prickle with goosebumps. I take a step back so Owen can stand beneath the showerhead as I run conditioner through the length of my hair. I watch, entranced, as rivulets of water stream down his body, over every muscle in his back and toward his extremely biteable ass, and I start to think that maybe this shower won’t be as clean and wholesome as I’d originally intended.
Owen turns around and catches me ogling him. “Now who’s staring?”
Channeling my inner-parrot, I smirk, adding a little sass to his earlier retort. “How can I not? You’re stunning.”
Owen advances on me, making me back up until I’m pressed against the cold shower wall. My breathing picks up, and I’m lost in his intense eyes as they bore into mine, the swirls and bursts of two shades of blue hypnotic. Speechless, I silently will him to kiss me. He advances slowly, and my breath hitches, my tongue peeking out to wet my lips, but instead of kissing me, he leans down and grabs the shampoo from the ledge of the tub and takes a step back.
A cocky smirk graces his stupid lips, and I glare, pushing myself away from the wall and hoping my weak knees don’t betray me. Thankfully, they don’t, and I decide that two can play this game.
Turning around, I grab my coconut-scented body wash and squeeze some onto my shower loofah. I work it into a thick, sudsy lather and lift my leg, placing my foot flat on the edge of the tub and leaning over slightly to give him a decent view of my ass as I start to wash—what can I say? I’m a bit of a multi-tasker.
Owen’s groan makes me smile, and I turn my head to see him eying my ass. “See something you like?”
He steps toward me, stopping when his thighs meet my ass, and I can feel his erection pressed between us. “You could say that,” he growls, splaying his hands flat over my water-slickened back and leaning forward. His hands move up my body, over my shoulders, and down my arms until he works the loofah free from my grasp.
I hold back a moan when he takes over washing my body, turning me around when he deems my back “clean enough to eat off of.” I’m surprised I didn’t melt into a puddle right then and there, to be quite honest, because I’m suddenly inundated with images of Owen eating off my body like some kind of sexual smorgasbord.
The loofah moves along the skin of my shoulders and neck before travelling down over my sternum, but the way Owen stares at me tells me he’s not really paying too much attention to detail, and my assumptions are confirmed the minute he drops the loofah from his hands and starts using his hands to “wash” my breasts. His hands glide with ease thanks to the water and body wash covering my body, and I moan when he rolls my nipples between his fingers.
I’m excited about the idea of shower sex. I’ve always been a fan of it, and it’s been way too fucking long since I’ve had it. One more tweak of his fingers, and I throw myself at him, stepping up onto my toes and wrapping my arms around his neck as I press my lips to his.
“You win,” I murmur against his ravenous lips, and he chuckles, pulling his hands from my tits and letting them fall to my ass.
“As long as you recognize that,” he replies playfully before nibbling on my bottom lip.
I drop my hands to his waist and begin to snake them between us before wrapping one hand around his cock. He groans into my mouth as I stroke him a couple times, and then he pulls away, looking conflicted as he holds me by my biceps, keeping me at arm’s length.
“We don’t…have a condom…” he pants, staggering his words. “We should wait.”
The
right side of my mouth quirks up, and I shrug. “We don’t need to have sex to satisfy each other, you know. Or, has it been too long since you’ve been creative?” I tease, pumping him to the hilt once more.
“Jesus, Amelia,” he mutters, his fingernails lightly biting into the skin of my upper arms as I continue to work my hand over his length.
I alternate the pressure of my hand as I slide it up and down, rotating my wrist upon every pass of his tip. My lips curl up into a satisfied smile as I watch his eyes close and his eyebrows furrow. He’s trying to control the movement of his hips, letting me take the lead, but he fails every so often, thrusting with purpose into my palm. It doesn’t take too long before he comes against my hand and belly with a grunt, and the water falling from the shower head quickly washes all evidence of his release away.
Quite content to end our shower on this note, I swap places with Owen so I can wash the conditioner out of my hair and the soap residue from my back while he washes his own body. He quickly lathers up his chest, legs and back, and I’ve just finished rinsing the last of the conditioner from my long hair when he steps forward, forcing me behind the spray of water and against the other shower wall. With the water raining down on his back, his lips latch onto my neck while his right hand palms my breast much like I’d instructed him the night before, and his left hand grabs my right leg and lifts it. My foot sits on the edge of the tub, and he coaxes me to spread it wider with the back of his hand before he massages his way up my inner thigh and strokes my pussy with his index and middle fingers.
“Oh, shit,” I moan, weaving my fingers into his hair and holding his mouth against my neck where he’s busy kissing, licking, and nibbling. Both of my legs begin to quiver as his fingers move with intent and experience, swirling around my clit with just the right pressure before gliding back and circling his destination. At an agonizingly slow pace, he eases them into me.
“Oh, god, Owen,” I pant toward the ceiling. My toes curl and my arms tingle before going numb as he plunges his long fingers in and out of me.
Owen raises his face from the crook of my neck and pulls my earlobe into his mouth for a second. “Come for me, Amelia.” His gruff request makes my stomach quiver and tighten as he works me right to the brink of release before his fingers curl toward my lower abdomen and push me over.
“Yes…” I whimper, feeling every muscle in my body contract around Owen’s dexterous fingers. “Just like that… Yes…yes… Yes!”
As I come down from the high of my orgasm, Owen eases my leg from the edge of the tub and kisses me passionately. My brain is still muddled as I try to wade through the fog of ecstasy, but I sense the gratitude behind his kiss, and I return it tenfold.
When the water starts to run cold, shocking us both, I hop out of the shower and grab my towel while Owen still has to quickly rinse off. Poor bastard. I get his towel ready and hand it to him the second he pulls the shower curtain back, and he wraps it around his waist before following me back out into the apartment.
While I sift through my closet, Owen digs through the small duffle bag he’d packed when leaving Gretchen, grumbling as he goes through shirt after shirt.
“There’s a laundry room down the hall,” I suggest. “Or there’s a Laundromat around the corner. I prefer the Laundromat, though, because I don’t trust the creepy guy next door enough to leave my laundry alone.” I wish I could say I was kidding, but I’ve had several bra and panty sets go missing, and the dude likes to leer.
After quickly dressing, Owen heads to the kitchen while I stuff my books into my backpack, and just as I’m zipping it up, my phone vibrates on my nightstand. I pick it up to see it’s Liz, so I answer it, keeping my voice down in hopes that Owen won’t think I’m talking to him and try to respond. “Hey, Liz.”
“Hi!” she replies happily. “How are you feeling?”
I’m confused for a brief moment until I remember I told her I wasn’t feeling well to keep the true reason for my sullen behavior from her. “Oh, much better. Totally slept it off.”
“Oh, good! You want me to come pick you u—”
“Amelia?” Owen calls from the kitchen, making my body stiffen in fear of us being found out by my best friend. “You don’t have much for breakfast food—did you want some toast?”
I pray she hasn’t heard him—that he wasn’t as loud as I thought he was—but I’m just not that damn lucky, and I don’t get a chance to react before I hear Liz in my ear. “Who…the fuck…is that?” My heart begins to pound rapidly, and my eyes widen as I try to think fast. “Amelia Rose Michaels!” she squeals into my ear. “Do you have a man in your apartment?”
“Y-yes?”
“Oh my god! Tell me everything!”
There’s no way I can tell her everything, so I try to get rid of her instead. “Sorry, Liz. I gotta go. I’ll see you in about thirty?”
“Amy…I’m your best fr—”
“Okay,” I sing into the phone, pulling it from my ear slowly. “See you soon!” And I hang up before she gets the chance to ask again. I know I’m not going to escape her interrogation forever, but I’ve at least bought myself thirty minutes to figure out a way to stretch the truth and omit a few facts.
When I walk the twenty feet to my kitchen, I eye Owen. “Well, I’ve got to think of something to tell Liz now,” I announce, flopping into one of the stools at the island counter separating my kitchen from my living room. Owen looks confused, so I hold up my phone. “She called and heard you talking about breakfast.”
“Fuck,” he mumbles, running his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were even on the phone.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay. I don’t know what I’ll tell her, but I don’t think she’ll recognize your voice or anything.” I lean on the counter and peer over at what he’s doing. “Whatcha got going on over there, handsome?” I ask.
Owen laughs, lifting a plate with two pieces of peanut butter covered toast. “Breakfast. I’d hoped to do a little more, but all you had was bread and a cupboard full of ramen noodles. You really should go grocery shopping.”
“Are you looking down on my choice of food?” I tease, and Owen challenges right back.
“Ramen noodles are not food, Amelia. They offer absolutely no nutritional value.”
I shrug. “And yet, I have this bangin’ bod.”
Owen laughs again. “Touché,” he replies, handing me a cup of coffee and then joining me to eat our breakfast. He parks his hand on my thigh and leaves it there for the duration of our meal. It invites a flurry of warmth and fluttery feelings in my belly that makes me smile.
By the time we finish eating, it’s time for me to head downstairs to meet Liz. I grab the spare set of keys for my apartment off my key ring and hand them to Owen. “This one will get you in the main door,” I say, holding the heavier brass-colored key. “And this one will lock up the apartment.”
“Got it,” he says, pocketing the keys and then pulling me into his arms. “Have a good day.”
Winding my arms around his neck, I hum. “How can I not when I know you’re going to be here when I get back?” I press my lips to his before peeling myself from his arms and slinging my bag over my shoulder as I rush down the hall and fly down the stairs to meet Liz outside.
She’s already parked right outside my apartment building, so I run across the sidewalk and slide into the passenger seat. I notice her looking out my window as I buckle up, and I poke her arm. “What are you looking for?” I ask.
“Your booty call! He isn’t going to walk out with you?” she demands, pushing her dark hair back over her shoulders. “Come on! I want to see what he looks like! He sounded hot!”
Rolling my eyes, I turn away from her. “You’re hopeless,” I tell her, but before I can say anything else, I hear her gasp, and it startles me. “Jesus, calm down! What is it now?”
Liz reaches across the car and pushes my hair off my shoulder. “You, Amelia Rose Michaels, have a hickey on your neck.”
Liz giggles beside me, putting her car into drive. “Your booty call gave you a hickey. What is he, fifteen?”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing, because he is most definitely not fifteen. “He’s…enthusiastic. I guess we just got a little carried away,” I tell her, but all the while, I’m debating whether or not I should get him back… If I do, it’ll have to be in a place that no one will see, because I’d hate to give Gretchen or anyone else a reason to jump to conclusions.
While Liz drives, I grab my phone and take a picture of my neck so I can send it to Owen with a corresponding message:
What the hell is this?
Only a few seconds go by before my phone vibrates in my hand, and I look down at the screen.
I’d say sorry—because I am—but
honestly, you bring out a part of
me I didn’t know existed anymore
Stifling a giggle, I tap out another response.
Is this part of you a teenager?
I wouldn’t go that far, but you bring
out a younger, much more primal
version of myself…not that I’m
complaining.
To hear that I’ve had this affect on Owen makes me blush. I love that I’ve brought him out of his shell a little more, but I’m also a little pissed that Gretchen had snuffed out who he used to be in all the years they were married.
I type out another quick text, telling Owen I might have to pay him back, and his final response before I arrive at school is: