Arousing Suspicions: An Amnesia Romance

by Cynthia Hart

  He took the ice bucket with him, turning around to blow the candles out and to turn the fire down more than what it was. He wasn’t about to waste the wine he had the maids bring to the living room as they were setting up.

  “Come on, let's get packing.” She told him, making her way up the stairs to their room.

  By the time Derek made it to the doorway he saw that she was taking everything out of their closet, she had his suitcase pulled out and open on the bed.

  “Boy, you’re going to have everything we own in those suitcases in a matter of seconds.” He laughed, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I want to make sure that we don’t forget anything.” She told him happily.

  “I plan on doing some shopping around the island too. Get you a nice grass dress, you’d look sexy with no panties underneath.” He teased her, hearing her laugh as he walked into the bedroom and helped her pack their clothes.

  “This is going to be so great Derek, a second honeymoon. Something we’ve always wanted to do. And now, now we are getting what we want.” She told him, beaming a smile at him as she zipped up one suitcase and got another one.

  “One suitcase is enough. One for each of us Michelle. I don’t want you staying up all night deciding what you’re going to take with you, in just a few hours we’re going to be waking up and getting ready to go to the boating docks.” He looked at his watch.

  It was one in the morning, and they had to get up at five so that they could make it to the cruise ship for six. He knew that it was going to be a stressful morning, but he was willing to go through it as long as they had a wonderful time together.

  “Are you sure?” She asked, chewing on her bottom lip as she thought about things that she really wanted to take with her.

  “I’m positive, everything is going to be just fine. We just need a little bit of sleep.” He yawned and stretched as he threw some clothes into his suitcase and zipped it up.

  Derek had only packed for one day he wasn’t worried about grabbing clothes, he wanted to focus on what a great time they were going to have.

  Michelle pushed her suitcases onto the floor and got in bed, throwing the covers back so that Derek could join her.

  That night they fell asleep in each other’s arms with smiles on their faces. Derek held her tightly to him, hoping that this was a new beginning for them, he knew they were succeeding together, and he knew in his heart that they were going to be just fine as long as they continued to work together on the flaws that they had.

  Derek only slept for an hour or so, worried that they would sleep through the alarm. At four in the morning, he woke Michelle up and she jumped out of bed, ready to start the day when normally she didn’t like getting up early.

  “There’s coffee ready downstairs, we can grab breakfast on the cruise, and the driver is already outside waiting for us,” Derek told her, making sure everything was all set before she even woke up.

  “Where's our suitcases?” She asked, looking around and seeing the floor was empty.

  “They’re already in the limo, all you have to do is get dressed, and I set out a sundress for you.” He grinned.

  The first thing Derek had done when he got up was take a shower and get into a pair of blue fitted jeans, a white shirt, and a white hooded sweatshirt knowing the morning was going to be chilly. He had his black and white sneakers on ready to go.

  Michelle hopped in the shower and got dressed quickly, when she came back into the room Derek let out a low whistle. The sundress was a little tight on her, but he loved the color blue and loved the way the top of the dress hugged her tits.

  “I want to take you right here.” He growled, going to her and holding her tightly in his arms.

  “If you do we’re going to miss the ship for sure. I think that we should wait until we at least board.” She laughed at him, racing out of the room and down the stairs.

  Derek was right behind her as she squealed getting to the kitchen, running around the table to get a coffee mug from the cupboard.

  “See, this is what I love right here. I love hearing your laughter, I love chasing you and feeling young again.” Derek caught her around the waist and held her tightly to him.

  “I love you, Derek Marr,” Michelle whispered, leaning against him before she grabbed her cup of coffee.

  “And I love you, Michelle Marr.” He kissed the back of her neck and let her go.

  It was a new beginning for them, they both knew that, what was to come, was up to them. But they were going to have the happily ever after that Michelle deserved... Derek was going to make sure of that.

  “That’s not weird Penny, and I’d hardly call a week that long.”

  The End.

  Doing Inventory

  Amelia West

  Doing Inventory

  Copyright 2017 by Amelia West

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to a person, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: Due to mature subject matter, such as explicit sexual situations and coarse language, this story is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older, and all acts of sexual nature are consensual.

  Table of Contents

  Arousing Suspicions 1

  Seduced by The Werewolf

  The Boss’s Mistress

  Doing Inventory

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2 :

  Chapter 3 :

  Chapter 4 :

  Chapter 5 :

  Chapter 6 :

  Chapter 7 :

  Chapter 8 :

  Chapter 9 :

  Chapter 10 :

  Chapter 11 :

  Chapter 12 :

  Chapter 13 :

  Chapter 14 :

  Chapter 15 :

  Chapter 16 :

  Chapter 17 :

  Chapter 18 :

  Chapter 19 :

  High on Biology

  Chapter 1

  April

  “Pardon me for asking?”

  I glanced up from the pile of silverware between us, midway through folding a fork and knife inside a paper napkin. “Pardon you for asking what, Keisha?”

  Keisha was young, still in high school, perky and professional and perfect in her red glass frames and kinky black hair. “It’s just, you’re not like the other hostesses I train.”

  I nodded wryly, adding the latest bundle of silverware to the stack steadily growing in front of us. We were at one of the empty tables along the wall, smooth jazz grooving from hidden speakers in the ceiling above us, the sidewalk along fashionable Sable Street deserted at this late hour.

  The quiet scene was quite a contrast to the busy shift we’d just shared. “You mean, I’m not as young as the other hostesses you train?”

  Keisha grinned, her ebony skin aglow beneath the wall sconce next to her as she peered back at me curiously in the bistro’s dim lighting. “Well, most of them are like me – in high school.”

  I sighed, stretching my back after a long hostess shift at Bordeaux Bistro. Or, as the “kids” who worked there called it, simply, The Bistro. “I was halfway through college when my dad started having heart trouble, and almost to graduation when he had his first heart attack. I figured I could always go back to college later, but I might not have a ‘later’ with my father, so…”

  Keisha’s eyes were wide, nodding her head in understanding. “You moved back home to take care of him and took the first job you could find, huh?”
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br />   I nodded, grateful for her kindness. I hadn’t been looking forward to the low-paying job at first, but Keisha had been so upbeat and positive all night, she’d turned me around. Now, commiserating after a long, nine-hour shift, I felt welcome for the first time since returning home to Citrus City, California. “How’d you know?”

  “My mom never worked when I was growing up,” she confessed, grabbing the last fork and knife from the tray between us. “Then my dad got sick, and couldn’t work, so she had to. Waitressing was the only job she could find with little to no experience, so I know the feeling.”

  “How is your father?” I asked, sensing a sadness in Keisha’s tone.

  She shrugged. “Above ground, for now. How about you?”

  I shrugged as well. “The same, I suppose.”

  We stood slowly, both sore and tired after a long, busy shift. The Bistro was mostly empty now, the servers all gone home for the night and Cliff, the surly manager with the poofy hair, doing paperwork at the bar. The only other employee left at this hour was the sexy guy behind the bar, counting the cash from his drawer with his tongue slightly sticking out. I ignored him, as I had all night, though his male model good looks made it increasingly difficult now that we were essentially alone.

  As if reading my mind, Keisha nodded toward the bartender, a smoldering hunk with short black hair and tattoos creeping up his neck, muscles bulging beneath his black “Bistro” T-shirt. “I can’t believe Caden hasn’t hit on you yet?”

  “Why would he?” I snorted, helping her stack the rolled silver in deep wicker bins at the various server stations throughout the dark, sleek café.

  She clucked a knowing tongue. “He hits on all the new hostesses,” she said, voice resigned like maybe he’d hit on her as well. Her tone also hinted at regret, like possibly she’d warmed to his advances in return, and still regretted doing so.

  “Yeah, well, like you said, they’re mostly teenagers, right?” When she nodded, I said, “I’m probably too old for him.”

  “Oh no,” she said. “He’s old like you.”

  We both laughed, giggling and punchy from the stressful night shift. “You know what I meant,” she said, showing me how to clock out on the restaurant’s computer system.

  “Twenty-three is hardly old,” I reminded her, grabbing our purses from the employee break room in the back. “But I know what you mean.”

  We walked out a back door, past a sweaty dishwasher spraying mats. Keisha tried to say goodbye to him, but the rap music blaring from his headphones prevented him from hearing it. She shrugged instead as I followed her out to her car in the parking lot.

  “You sure you don’t want a ride?” she asked, opening the door and standing in the dim interior light. She was radiant and curvy, a true darling in every sense of the word.

  “I’m only a bus stop away,” I said, clinging to my purse. “And besides, I could use some downtime before I get back home, if you know what I mean.”

  She nodded, sliding down into the driver’s seat with a heavy thud. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. That is, if we didn’t scare you off tonight?”

  I smiled. “Not too badly,” I said, sliding her door shut as she rolled down the window. “See you tomorrow?”

  She nodded and turned over the engine, giving a little wave whilst driving off. I stood in the dark, clutching the strap of my purse as I savored the silence of the empty parking lot. It had been a long, noisy night, steady for most of the nine hours and drop dead busy for three of them. The sound of complaining customers, rudeness and complaints was finally starting to drain from my ears when I heard the sound of shoes scuffing behind me.

  I whirled, not too concerned, assuming it was just the dishwasher. Instead, a shadowy figure stood, long and lean just outside the kitchen door. “Sorry,” said a low, scratchy voice before the flick of a lighter illuminated the handsome face of Caden, the bartender. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Who says you did?”

  He chuckled, smoke oozing from full lips as he stepped away from the back of the restaurant and walked closer, all 6’2” of him draped in the soft orange glow of a nearby streetlight. “That startled look on your face did,” he said, approaching me confidently.

  He was long and limber, lean and lithe, like a panther stalking his prey. The all black uniform – biker boots, black peg jeans and a snug Bistro T-shirt – did wonders to enhance the effect. The short black hair, cut so short it was almost bristly, to say nothing of the stubble covering his lean, hollow cheeks, helped inch my heart rate over the red line.

  “Startled is a strong word,” I said, finding myself flirting in spite of myself. I’d been drawn to Caden from the minute I saw him, spotting his type from a mile away: dark, dangerous, cocky, the typical “bad boy” I’d sworn off three broken hearts ago. “Surprised, is more like it.”

  Chapter 2 :

  “Surprised by what?” I asked, savoring the sight of the newest Bistro hostess as she stood, radiant and ravishing, in the soft glow of the streetlight above.

  She was a natural ginger, auburn hair pulled back into an enticing ponytail that set off her young, oval face. Her black “Bistro” T-shirt set off small, pointy breasts, the kind I liked from time to time, perky and perched between my fingertips. I pushed the thought from my mind just long enough to inch closer, but not too close.

  She stood in front of an empty space, the streetlight above illuminating her pale, almost alabaster skin. I imagined her naked, puffy nipples at high alert, auburn bush dewy from my efforts, and could almost taste her full, red lips as she said, “A stranger in the dark, I suppose.”

  I chuckled, dryly, having almost forgotten the question it had taken her so long to answer. She sounded smart and, I sensed, she would be a challenge. I grinned, feeling myself thicken in my pants with anticipation. I liked a challenge. I inched a little closer, watching her tense at the approach and pausing just shy of reaching her. “Ah, but I’m not a stranger,” I reminded her. “We work together, see?”

  I held the front of my shirt out toward her so she could see the telltale red “Bistro” logo that matched her own. “Not anymore,” she purred, seeming to relax slightly.

  Meanwhile, I sagged with disappointment. How would I seduce her if she’d already given her notice? “Oh? Couldn’t stand the heat, so you quit, huh?”

  She wagged a playful finger, smiling softly. “No, it’s just… we’re both clocked out.”

  I snorted, mostly with relief. “Touché,” I murmured, nodding at the mostly empty parking lot. “Need a lift?”

  She glanced behind her, then back at me. “How did you know?”

  I nodded toward the beat up truck by the dumpster. “That’s Freddy the dishwasher’s ride,” I pointed out. “And my motorcycle is right beside it and, well… unless you want the wrath of Freddy’s wife, I doubt you’re getting a lift home with him tonight.”

  A soft blush rose to her cheeks as she peered gently down at her feet. “That’s okay, the bus stop is right around the corner, and I’m the second stop, so…”

  I furrowed my brow, thinking it was a little late for all that. “Is it still running?” I asked.

  She glanced down at a small, cheap watch on her wrist. “Oh shoot!” she said, brushing past me as I cursed my big fat mouth. “I better hurry if I’m going to catch the last stop!”

  “Honestly,” I called out after her, never one to chase a lead but damn… that ass! “There’s plenty of room on my bike!”

  But she had already rounded the corner, past the back of the restaurant and up the small alley between the Bistro and the art gallery next door. Before I could call out once more, a little louder, I heard the familiar brakes of the bus hissing as it slowed to pick her up.

  I shrugged it off, reaching for a damp cocktail napkin in my back pocket and reading the digits in the weak streetlight. Dialing the number, I heard the slightly slurry voice of the voluptuous brunette who’d scribbled them for me only an hour early.
“Veronica?” I asked, walking toward my bike. “You still up? I thought I’d stop by…”

  Hearing the approval in her voice, I waited through the gushing to hear an address before hanging up to key it into my phone. Then, smiling, I forgot all about the redhead. Until our next shift together, that is…

  Chapter 3 :

  “You sure you don’t mind?”

  Keisha looked doubtful, even as I nodded and gently pushed her toward the employee break room. “I’ll be fine, Keisha. Honest.”

  She reached for her purse but paused just the same. “I mean, I can stay a little while longer…”

  “You’ve already stayed long enough,” I groaned, literally pushing her toward the back kitchen door. “It’s a Tuesday night, and you’ve been training me all weekend. I think I can handle this.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure, gheez. Now go home and study!”

  She nodded, waving meekly as she inched through the back kitchen door and off, toward her car in the employee parking lot. I watched her go with a sense of relief tinged with regret. True, it was a Tuesday night and, yes, she’d been training me all weekend, but I’d yet to have a night working the door alone.

  “April!”

  I turned, just in time to see the floor manager, Cliff, waving at me through the kitchen door. “An eight top just walked in! Get your ass out front and to the podium on the double.”

  I nodded and followed him out to the restaurant’s front reception area, bustling with eight impatient businessmen all staring at my breasts! I ignored them and, instead, consulted the seating chart before placing them at the appropriate table.