A Time to Speak

by Riley Scott

  With one final glance in the mirror, she fluffed her hair and winked at her reflection. She looked good, but more importantly she felt good. Shoulders back, and with a broad smile on her face, she was ready for a night of celebration.

  Stronger than she had felt in months, she strolled down the hallway, casually taking a seat at the dinner table to wait on her date. As the minutes passed, she closed her eyes, taking a moment of reflection and meditation.

  In the silence, one thought resonated within her, blossoming until it became a mantra. Whatever may come, I am me. She could hear footsteps outside her front door and was thankful for living in such a quiet area. She opened her eyes and rose from her place, freedom and peace emanating from her body with each step.

  She flung open the door, a huge smile on her face, catching Dominique pacing with her back to the door.

  “I didn’t want to come in early.” Dominique turned around. Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. Raising an eyebrow, she let out a low laugh. “Damn,” she said. Her mouth opened again and she let out a flustered sigh. “You look amazing.” She looked down at her jeans and fitted black shirt. “I didn’t know we were dressing up. I can go change.”

  “You look amazing,” Amelia said. “Don’t even think about changing. This is just something I wanted to wear tonight.”

  “It’s…” Dominique shook her head, awe evident on her face. The corners of Amelia’s lips turned up even more into a devious smile. It felt good to be appreciated. “It’s incredible. Good choice,” she added, dropping her head as her cheeks reddened.

  “Thank you. Come inside.” Amelia stepped back from the door, holding out her arm in welcome.

  Dominique slipped past her inside the house, stopping in the living room and turning to face Amelia. “You are the sweetest. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” She pointed to the lit candles on the dining room table.

  Amelia laughed. “Trust me. I didn’t go to much trouble. You’ll see. But first, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do all day.”

  Dominique raised an eyebrow as Amelia walked over to her. She opened her mouth to speak, but Amelia didn’t give her time to say anything. Instead, she covered Dominique’s lips with her own, delighting in their taste. Dominique wrapped her hands around the back of Amelia’s neck, tangling her hands in her hair.

  Their bodies came together to the point Amelia couldn’t tell whose was whose. She moaned, feeling Dominique’s heart pounding against her own chest. When Amelia finally pulled her head back, she let out a contented sigh.

  Dominique tightened her arms around Amelia’s body. “Was it worth the wait?”

  “Mmm,” Amelia responded, her body tingling in every place she wanted Dominique to touch. “It was more than worth it.”

  Leading with her shoulders to give Dominique a glance at just how low-cut her dress was, she shimmied backward out of the embrace and made her way to the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready,” she called out in her best June Cleaver voice.

  She brought out two glasses of wine first and set them on the table. Dominique’s eyes lit up, and she leaned down to watch Amelia slink off to the kitchen once more.

  “And now it’s served,” she said, laughing as she set the pizza and paper plates in the middle of the table.

  “It’s perfect,” Dominique responded, her voice still thick with lust. “Thank you.”

  Amelia bit her lip. Suddenly she wasn’t hungry—for pizza anyway. She closed her eyes, reminding herself that good things came to those who waited and pulled out her chair, inching it even closer to Dominique’s. She longed to feel even the slightest brush of Dominique’s skin against hers.

  As they ate, they regaled each other with stories of their workdays. Amelia listened intently, careful not to let her big news slip out before it was time.

  Halfway through her second slice, Dominique set down her pizza and shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said, wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “I got so caught up in everything that happened when I first got here that I forgot to ask about your day, or your morning. I know you were upset earlier. Is everything okay?”

  “It’s more than okay,” Amelia answered with a smile. “We’ll talk about that later. For now, tell me more about the kids.”

  As Dominique filled her in, she couldn’t help but see the superhero Dominique was. Strong, collected, geared for changing hearts and minds. And incredibly sexy, too. Amelia’s thoughts trailed off and her eyes scanned over Dominique’s body. Her soft brown skin, her kind but intense eyes, and the way she smiled when she talked about the work she was doing all made her even more attractive.

  “Are you done eating?” Dominique pointed to Amelia’s untouched second piece of pizza.

  Amelia shrugged and crumpled her napkin in her hand. “I guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought. I was a little distracted to be honest.” She was rambling. She shut her mouth and stood.

  Dominique cocked her head to the side and wiped her hands on her napkin. Following suit, she stood. There was no more waiting. She was ready. She grabbed Dominique’s hand and bounded down the hallway.

  Dominique’s heart raced in her chest and her head spun in confusion. Still, she couldn’t help herself. Following Amy was exactly what she wanted to do and when she rounded the corner into the bedroom, there was no need to question anything.

  When Amy turned to her, breathlessly kissing her with a passion Dominique didn’t know was in her, confusion stopped. Everything stopped. Amy was in full control, pushing her backward until her body lay splayed out on the bed.

  Amy kissed her tenderly, then with fervor, moving her fingers down to unbutton and unzip her jeans. Dominique ran her fingers across the back of Amy’s dress looking for the zipper, only to have Amy pull back slightly and shake her head.

  As Amy trailed down her body, kissing first her neck, then her shoulders, she turned to putty. Everywhere those soft lips touched seemed to set ablaze. Amy expertly reached down, pulling off Dominique’s jeans and tossing them aside. Amy teased Dominique’s body, straddling her and grinding.

  Within seconds, she removed Dominique’s underwear as well, and pulled her shirt over her head. Lying completely bare underneath Amy, Dominique wanted to remove Amy’s clothing, to see what was underneath, but as Amy drove her fingers deep inside Dominique, she couldn’t move. She felt as if she was tied down by invisible rope, completely lost in the pleasure.

  Her body trembled as she let out moan after moan, until they became nothing more than a string of satisfied cries. Panting as Amy quickened her pace, thrusting in and out, Dominique threw her head back. Throwing fuel on an already exploding fire, Amy took one nipple in her mouth, softly sucking, causing ripples of pleasure to shoot through Dominique’s body.

  As her orgasm subsided, she fought for air, reaching up to pull Amy’s body flat on top of hers, but Amy didn’t stop. She flashed Dominique her now notorious devilish smile and slowly continued her thrusts, reaching up to circle Dominique’s hardened clit with her thumb.

  Their lips met in wild lust, and Dominique couldn’t wait any longer. As if unleashed by the power that had held her still, she reached up between Amy’s legs, surprised and excited to find no panties in the way, and slid inside her. The wetness engulfed her fingers as Amy thrust her hips forward, driving Dominique deeper, riding her fingers.

  Lost in a sea of moans, Dominique moved deeper inside, matching her pace. As Dominique felt the second wave of pleasure bursting from her body, Amy tightened around Dominique, coming with a scream before rolling over next to her.

  Dominique rolled over on her side, breathless and in awe of the radiance beaming from Amy’s tired smile.

  “I have so many more things I want to do with you,” Amy said, draping an arm around Dominique’s shoulder.

  “As do I, as soon as I catch my breath.”

  Amy nodded, sinking her head into the pillow. She snuggled up closer into Dominique’s arms and laid her head on Dominique’s ch
est. “Thank you,” she breathed.

  “No,” Dominique laughed. “Thank you. I didn’t know that’s what you had planned for the evening.”

  “That…and other things,” Amy said, tracing her fingertips across Dominique’s breasts.

  Dominique smiled and kissed Amy tenderly. “I can’t wait to see what’s in store.”

  “I can’t either,” Amy said, wiggling out of the snuggle. “But first I’m going to need some more pizza.” She stood, straightened her dress, and practically glided out of the room. Returning with the pizza box and wine bottle in hand, she winked. “Are you ready for a slumber party?”

  Dominique bit her lip, nodding. “I’m ready for anything, as long as you’re here.”

  Amy’s giggle filled the air. Whatever had broken loose inside her had brought forth a brand new woman, and Dominique wanted everything she had to offer.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Grease and sweat filled the air by the time evening fell, and despite George Brandt’s best efforts, the whirring of equipment hadn’t distracted his blur of thoughts and questions throughout the day.

  “Go on home, Brent,” he called out over the sound of his service writer’s tire change. “That one isn’t even on our list.” When Brent didn’t immediately reply, George crossed the distance between them. “That’s my project car. That’s not even a priority. You can go on home for the evening.”

  Brent flashed him a sheepish grin. “Sorry, boss. You know I love this old thing.” Brent patted the side of George’s 1966 Camaro.

  “I do too, but let’s call it a night. I need to go home and take care of some things.”

  “Sure thing,” Brent said, tipping his cap in George’s direction and shutting down his workstation.

  Truth was, George wasn’t sure home was where he wanted or needed to be. He had other plans for the evening. He watched as Brent gathered his things and headed out the door. He longed for a day like that kid was experiencing, free from any real worries, going home after a hard day’s work to soak up life.

  He looked down at his watch. It was time to leave the shop behind him for the day. Shutting off the lights and locking the doors, he thought back to that blissful time just twelve hours earlier when he thought he knew how his day was going to go. Of course, he wasn’t so naïve to think things went as planned. But even so, this had been quite the shock.

  He scratched his head, not caring that he was likely smearing grease on his scalp. Where he had to be, it wouldn’t matter. All that mattered was that he got a little insight on how to handle a situation like this.

  As he drove his truck, he thought back to simpler times when his little Amy-bug would bounce up and down in the front seat, babbling on about school or friends, times when she’d sing along to Reba McEntire on the radio, off-key and at the top of her lungs. For old times’ sake, he flipped open the console of his beat-up old Chevy truck and fished out the Reba cassette he still cherished.

  He popped it into the player and let the songs take him back. “Walk On” flooded through his speakers, and he rolled the windows down and turned up the dial. For just a minute, he let himself imagine her brown hair swaying in the wind as she belted out the lyrics with spunk. She had always been a little spitfire, someone determined to make it no matter what she did. This morning, she had been right. He had always been proud of her, and he always would be. He just didn’t understand her right now.

  Keeping his left hand on the steering wheel, he pressed his right palm into his forehead, wishing away the tension that had mounted throughout the course of the day.

  He took a left and wound his way down an old dirt road. When he pulled up into the driveway, he waited for the dust to settle before he got out of his truck. He tapped the steering wheel with his fist, summoning up the strength to do what he needed to do, despite the voices in his head that told him to suffer in silence and keep his family’s business to himself.

  Emboldened by the thought of helping Amelia, he got out of the truck.

  “George Brandt,” a leathery old voice called out across the field that sat next to the old, two-story farmhouse.

  “Yes sir,” George called out in return. “How ya been, old timer?”

  “Who are you calling old?” Bill Stanton asked, making his way over to greet George. He reached out his hand. “It’s good to see you, and last time I checked, we’re both getting on up there. If I remember correctly, you’ve still got me by a little bit.”

  “Ah, I see that memory is going, too,” George joked, even though his voice was strained. His throat was raw from holding in the warring emotions he had felt all day. He cleared his throat.

  “What brings you up this way?”

  “Well, I needed a bit of advice, and I thought maybe you’d be able to shed some light on a mucky situation for me.”

  Bill looked off into the distance, removed his hat, and scratched his head. “I don’t know that I’m much of an expert in any advice column, but I’ll give it a shot. What’s going on?”

  George shoved his hands into his pockets and let out a deep breath. He watched as Bill turned to look at the sunset. In the silence that followed, George tried to find the right words. He opened his mouth, then bit his tongue.

  “It’s not easy,” he said after a moment.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Bill said, patting him on the shoulder. “How about I go in and grab us a few beers and some chairs, and we can sit out here and watch the sun go down? Then you can tell me all ’bout it.”

  A lump formed in George’s throat but he nodded. If nothing else, it would buy him some time to find the right words to discuss this as delicately as possible. He was, after all, talking to a man who had just lost his daughter. And to complicate the matter, his daughter had been sleeping with…he shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that. Bill’s daughter had been dating his daughter, and now he needed some insight on how to still be there for his girl when his world seemed to be turned upside down.

  By the time Bill returned, he accepted the beer gladly. “Tough times go better with beer.” Bill tapped his bottle against George’s. He set up the folding lawn chairs in the direction of the sunset and took a seat. George nodded, letting out a sigh as he took the second seat. “Lay it on me,” Bill added, opting not to make eye contact.

  “I feel bad coming out here asking you for advice after all you’ve been through.”

  “Don’t.” Bill held up a hand to stop George’s apology. “We’re hardy folks. We get by and get through. That’s how we’ve always been, and I’m no different. Just ’cause I’ve had some really hard days don’t mean I can’t be there for a friend in need. I said ‘lay it on me’ and I meant it.”

  “It’s about your daughter,” George blurted the words out, forgoing the smoother ways he had concocted in his mind.

  “What about my Chloe?” Bill asked, then held up his hand again. “Whatever it is, I’d like to tell you a little about that girl of mine for a second. She loved sunsets like this one.” He waved his hand through the air, pointing out the horizon. “She would call them ‘cotton candy clouds,’ and she’d get a whimsical smile on her face. She was always one who got down to business and didn’t get too distracted by other things. This was different, though. This was nature, and this was her playground. It made her come alive in ways I don’t know that I’ll ever understand.” He paused for a moment, taking a long sip of his beer. “I sit out here a lot and think about her. I watch the sunsets and I can almost feel like she’s still here with me. That said, there haven’t been too many things involving her lately that have been good news, so whatever you’ve got to say, I’m all ears.”

  “She was a wonderful person, Bill. I’m not here to say anything to the contrary.” He cleared his throat, this time taking care to find the right words. “Fact is this is as much about my daughter as it is yours.”

  Bill nodded, pursing his lips. “Figured as much.”

  “You knew?” George shook his head.

 
Beside him, Bill shifted in his seat and shrugged. “I didn’t know while it was happening. I put some puzzle pieces together after the fact and I asked. I got the truth, so I’ve known for a little while. But I was sworn to secrecy.”

  George felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. “Who told you?”

  “Amelia did,” he said, turning to face George. “After Chloe’s death, Amelia showed up at the house with some muffins and things for the detectives and for our family—well, for me, since I’m most of the family Chloe had. She and I talked a bit that day, and she said some things that stuck with me. She was tryin’ to be careful and cover her tracks. I sincerely doubt she wanted to tell me before she told you, but I poked and prodded my way to the bottom of it, mainly because I wanted to know if someone loved my Chloe in that way. If they did, I wanted to know what they knew of her, who she was. It was part of how I found comfort. She told me because I asked, George.”

  The muscles in George’s neck tightened and he closed his eyes, warding off signs of weakness. Men didn’t cry in front of one another, but all he wanted to do was break down into tears. “Okay,” he managed, his voice thick with emotion. “That makes sense, I suppose. She told me this morning, and I’m not sure what to do about it.”

  Bill leaned back in his chair, tipping his beer up to take a long drink. “Thing is, I’m not sure you can do much about it. I always knew I couldn’t change Chloe’s mind, from the very beginning. As time went on, I realized it wasn’t her mind. It was her heart. It was who she was, and there’s no changing that about someone.”

  Having left his beer previously untouched, George downed a gulp. “That’s kind of what I figured. I know her mama was talking this morning about not standing for it and wanting to help her change her mind, but I figured as much. I know my Amelia, and she’s not going to be swayed on something she feels convicted of. She’s too strong a woman for someone to tell her what to do, and I’ve never been the type of parent to tell her what to do. I want her to make her own decisions.”