“I need…” Amara couldn’t finish her sentence.
She undid her own jeans and leaned over Hillary. Hillary took one of the nipples into her mouth. She placed her hand on Amara’s ass, coaxing her girlfriend to rock her hips down into her. The motion of rocking only made Amara want it more. She couldn’t wait. So, she leaned back up, continued her rocking and stroking at Hillary’s core, but slid her own hand into her pants and underwear.
“Oh, my God,” Hillary let out when Amara began stroking herself.
Amara’s shirt still half-hung on her body, her breasts were bare, but her bra was pushed nearly up to her neck. She didn’t care how it looked, though. She wanted to be touched. She needed to stroke herself at just the right speed in just the right spot. Hillary’s hands moved to her hips where she coaxed her to continue. Amara opened her eyes and watched Hillary’s brown ones, that appeared to be glued to what her hand was doing.
“Is this okay?” Amara asked, now concerned that she should have let her girlfriend touch her.
“Yes,” Hillary whispered.
Amara smiled at her, and Hillary’s eyes stayed on her hand as it continued to move inside her jeans. Amara’s fingers drifted down, and she slid them inside Hillary’s core. Hillary lowered herself then. Amara felt her own clit begin to pulse wildly; her wetness was preventing her from stroking it just the way she wanted, but she remained focused on Hillary’s body as it undulated beneath her. The woman was still fully clothed, but she was so sexy when she allowed herself to let go. Amara slid her fingers back out and focused them again on Hillary’s clit.
Hillary came moments later. Amara felt her beneath her hand. That was enough to send her over the edge, too. When she felt the last of the heavy tremors, she collapsed on top of Hillary. Her one hand was covering Hillary’s center while her other one was still slowly stroking her own clit as the orgasm died down. They stayed like that for several moments. Amara enjoyed the sound of Hillary’s heart beating beneath her chest. A while later, she finally lifted herself up and removed her hands. Her face grew hot, which surprised her, because it had been hot a few minutes ago, too. This time was different, though.
“You’re blushing,” Hillary commented and pulled Amara back down on top of herself.
“I just touched myself in front of you.”
Amara placed her head in the crook of Hillary’s neck, allowing Hillary to rub her back.
“I know. It was sexy as hell,” Hillary replied. She lifted Amara enough to remove the woman’s shirt all the way, along with her bra. “Come on, let’s take a shower. Then, we can talk some more.”
“Yeah, you can tell me all about how you’re basically going to go to couples counseling with your ex-girlfriend.” Amara gave her a glare but winked playfully.
CHAPTER 36
“I feel like this is a marathon of a conversation,” Amara said as they sat on Hillary’s bed facing one another.
They’d talked on the sofa prior to having sex. Then, they’d showered together and had more sex while they were supposed to be cleaning themselves. Their conversation continued shortly after that. It was now close to midnight. They hadn’t stopped talking. They’d moved from the shower to the bedroom, from the bedroom to the kitchen where they’d had a snack, and then back to the bedroom. They’d been lying down for part of the conversation. Hillary’s head had been on Amara’s shoulder. They’d both moved to sit a while later. Then, Amara’s head had ended up in Hillary’s lap. Now, they were both sitting with a bowl of butter-free popcorn between them.
“It is, but it’s good,” Hillary offered.
“It’s late, though. We both have to work tomorrow.” Amara moved the bowl of half-eaten popcorn off the bed.
“What are you going to do?” Hillary asked.
“About the job? I honestly don’t know. That’s probably why I’ve never left,” she began. “It’s not my dad’s fault, necessarily. He’s never really encouraged me to do anything else, but he’s not making me stay there.”
“What do you want?” Hillary asked.
“I looked into those classes I mentioned earlier. I was going to get your opinion on them.”
“Oh, yeah. Let me get my laptop; we’ll look at them now.” Hillary stood, moved into the living room, grabbed her computer, and brought it back to the room. “I should have done this when you brought it up earlier.”
“We can look at it tomorrow, Hill. It’s late.”
“Let’s look at them now. You need to register soon anyway, if you hope to get a spot.”
“I don’t even know if my dad will pay my tuition if I change majors, though. The whole point of me going to school was to learn stuff that would help the church.”
“The whole point of going to college is to figure out who you are and what you want to do; he should understand that.”
“But he might not.”
Hillary opened a browser, went to the school’s online course catalog, and asked, “You’re worried he won’t because you’re going to come out, aren’t you?”
She then used the pillows to prop herself up, held the laptop off to the side, and motioned for Amara to sit between her legs. Amara moved into that position. Hillary put the laptop in front of her so Amara could drive it while she looked over her shoulder.
“I don’t know that I’m going to come out to him,” Amara said and proceeded to type the name of a course into the catalog.
“Okay,” Hillary replied.
She pulled Amara’s hair away from her neck and applied a kiss there.
“Okay?” Amara asked, turning her head slightly to try to make eye contact.
“Babe, he’s your father. It’s up to you. No matter what, I’m on your side,” she replied. “I hope you do tell him one day, though. If I’m being honest, I hope it’s one day soon. But it’s always your decision.”
Amara returned her attention to the computer screen and pulled up the course result.
“What if I don’t, ever?”
“Tell me this: do you really want to go through your life separating everything we have from your father? What happens if we move in together or get married?” She kissed Amara’s neck again. “Have kids?”
“You think about that stuff?” Amara asked and then closed the laptop, having more interest in their new topic of conversation than the course selection.
“Yes. I’m not exactly getting any younger.” Hillary laughed. “I want all those things, though. I want to live with someone, marry them, and have kids with them. I’d like to buy a house in the burbs one day so that they can have a yard to play in while still having access to everything in the city.”
“That sounds nice.” Amara lowered the computer to her side of the bed. “Can we have at least two?”
She leaned back into Hillary’s arms. Hillary wrapped her own arms around Amara’s waist to hold her closer.
“You want two?”
“At least two. I was an only child. I’ve always wanted multiple kids so they have siblings to play with.”
“A boy and a girl?”
“How did you know?” Amara turned in Hillary’s arms and smiled up at her girlfriend.
“I didn’t.” Hillary chuckled at her. “That’s what I’ve always wanted. I’d be happy with a healthy kid, but I always kind of pictured myself with at least one boy and one girl; maybe a third, later. But I’m going to be thirty-five soon, so I might be too tired after the first two.”
“I could have the third one,” Amara offered.
“It’s not the having that would tire me out long-term, babe. It’s keeping up with them.” She gave the woman a sweet kiss on the forehead. “Random question.”
“What?” Amara laughed.
“What do you want to do for your birthday?”
“Well, that’s a change in the subject.” Amara turned back around in her arms and faced the television that had been off all evening. “Nothing, probably. I don’t usually do anything. My dad wasn’t big on birthdays. He doesn’t even celebrat
e his own. I’ve baked him a cake every year, but that’s about it.”
“So, no parties?”
“Who would have come?” Amara asked, then slid her fingertips along Hillary’s arm around her waist, and continued, “I didn’t have many friends as a teenager. Those I did have, probably wouldn’t have come anyway; they were more acquaintances than friends.”
“How about, this year, I throw you a party?” Hillary questioned.
“I’d ask the same question, Hill.” The woman paused and let out a deep yawn. “Who would come?”
Hillary held her tight. She didn’t answer the question, because Amara had fallen asleep in her arms.
◆◆◆
“I love falling asleep in your arms like that, but my neck is killing me,” Amara said.
“You’re the one that wouldn’t let me put you under the blanket.” Hillary laughed.
Amara rubbed her neck and then lightly shoved Hillary’s shoulder as they stood.
“I should go.” Amara chuckled back. “Thank you for letting me borrow some clothes.”
“You look great in khaki.” Hillary kissed her cheek. “You look better in your clothes, though. I wouldn’t mind you wearing that skirt again. Maybe at the café on Thursday, for example.”
“Hill,” she whispered and looked around on the street. “You can’t say that out here.”
“I can’t ask you to wear a skirt?” Hillary laughed. “It’s not like they know what happened when you were wearing it.”
The street was packed with people making their way to their cars, toward the train, or just walking to their offices. It was Wednesday. Hillary had two sections and a lecture today, along with a pile of papers to grade. It would be a long day. On top of that, she had a faculty meeting that evening.
“I’ll see you later,” Amara told her.
“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” Hillary pulled a key from her pocket. “Here.”
“Your key?” Amara took it and stared at it as if she’d never seen a key before.
“Yes, so you can get in later. I have that meeting, so I won’t be back until after seven. Let yourself in. I’ll text you when I’m heading home.” Hillary leaned in and kissed her.
“I like that,” Amara returned.
“Me coming home?”
“You coming home to me,” Amara answered.
CHAPTER 37
Amara made it to the church right on time. Her father was already in a meeting with Mark, which gave her time to figure out exactly what to say to him. She felt bad as a daughter for leaving him with little information about her whereabouts or why she’d reacted the way she had the other night. She also felt bad as an employee, because she hadn’t shown up at work the previous day, and that wasn’t like her. Amara didn’t mind hard work. She liked most of the people at the church. She just needed a break. She realized as she stared at her email that she’d never taken a real vacation. She’d never had more than a couple of days off work in her life. Her father was that way as well. That had always made it difficult to take time off. She returned the emails that required her attention, reviewed her dad’s calendar, and ordered his lunch all before he emerged from his office around noon.
“Honey, you’re here,” the man nearly exclaimed when he saw her.
“Hi, Dad,” she replied, met his eyes, and then looked away.
“Can we have lunch?” he asked as he made his way over to her desk.
“I ordered you the sandwich you like,” she returned. “I’m going out for lunch.”
“Amara, please tell me what I did wrong. At least tell me where you slept last night or the night before? I know you weren’t in the pool house.”
“I told you I was okay,” she replied.
“That’s not enough, Amara.” He moved behind her desk and leaned against it. “You know that’s not enough for a dad.”
“Dad, we’ve always lived together. I’ve hardly ever spent a night away from the house. I know this is probably an adjustment for you.”
“You said you were moving out. Are you planning on moving, Amara? If you want to get something away from the house, I can ask Mr. Antonio to help you find a place. He’s a realtor. He’ll find you something for a decent price. We can work out the down payment, I’m sure. We can get you a manageable mortgage. If you want to rent, Sammy, the church groundskeeper, also works at a place downtown. I asked him yesterday: they have two units available. They’re both one-bedrooms, but I can help with the rent, and–”
“Dad!” Amara yelled.
She stood and moved beyond her desk, reaching for her purse in the process.
“I am almost twenty-seven years old. I still live at home. I’ve had exactly one job my entire life. I’m almost through a degree I don’t want.” She paused. “You keep trying to solve problems for me when all I really want is to be able to solve them for myself.”
“Okay. We don’t have to talk about this now.” He moved around her desk but stopped several feet away from her.
“I don’t want to talk about this with you at all, Dad.” She slid her purse over her shoulder. “God, I want to be a normal woman in her twenties. I want my own apartment. I want a job at a place where I don’t work for my dad. I want to finish school and earn a degree I really want. I want to be able to call you and talk to you about my rough day at work with my pain-in-the-ass boss. I don’t want you to be the pain-in-the-ass boss.”
“You want another job? Honey, that’s fine. If you want to work somewhere else, I’m sure we can find someone in the church that–”
“You’re not listening!” she yelled again. “Dad, I love you, but you’re not listening.”
“Maybe we should go into the office.” He motioned to his private office.
Mark had already departed for his own lunch, so the open space where Amara normally sat was empty. They were alone. There was no reason for them to go inside his office. Amara smirked when she realized her father was attempting a power play: he wanted to go into his territory. This was neutral territory; she couldn’t even claim it as her own, since she shared the space with someone else and people were normally moving in and out through what basically amounted to a lobby.
“I want to find my own way, Dad. I can get my own apartment. I can find a new job. I can finish school.”
“You don’t have to do it on your own, though, sweetheart. That’s what I preach all the time: you can rely on the helping hand of others.”
“I know that. Maybe I will, later. But, right now, I want to do this on my own,” Amara replied with a little less frustration in her tone.
“If you want to do this all on your own, that’s fine. But there will be ground rules.”
“Ground rules? I’m not a teenager, Dad.”
“No, you’re an adult.” He folded his arms across his chest. “If you want to be treated like one, I will treat you like one. That means you’re here every day for business hours, as usual. No more skipping days of work without proper notice.”
“Okay. You’re right, that was unfair to you and unprofessional,” she agreed.
“You’ll start paying rent for the pool house. We’ll finalize an appropriate amount for next month and start there. If you find a new place, you’re free to move out whenever.” The man paused. “I’ll determine the cost of the utilities for the pool house and charge you the portion appropriate to your use. Food inside the house will still be free.”
“Dad…”
“No, this is how it’s done.” He held up his hand to stop her. “I’d still like to enjoy meals with my daughter. Food is free, and always will be.” He offered her an awkward smile. “Cell phone bill, car insurance, and gas are 100% on you, though. The car’s paid off, so you don’t have to worry about that. Since I’ve been paying you just above minimum wage, given that you’ve been living rent- and, basically, expense-free, I’ll raise your pay accordingly so that you can afford these expenses. You’re due for a raise anyway. When you leave, I’d expect at least two weeks’ notice. I will als
o continue to pay your school tuition through the remainder of the year. But, next year, that’ll be your responsibility should you decide to continue.” He paused and met her eyes. “Are those terms acceptable?”
What was she supposed to say? The terms were reasonable. She had been lucky to have had him pay for pretty much everything her entire life. Now, he was turning the tables on her. If she wanted to be a real adult, she needed to start acting like one. Unfortunately, the pace with which he rambled that all off, had Amara’s head spinning. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to afford everything even if he raised her pay. She didn’t know what would happen when she left. Would she be able to find a job that paid her enough to live on? Would she have to give up school?
“Yes, they’re acceptable. But I don’t want to work on Sundays after services anymore. I don’t want to handle anything beyond standard business hours. Are those terms acceptable?” she countered.
“Will you still come to services?” he asked.
“I’d like to come sometimes, yes.”
“Sometimes?”
“Not every Sunday.”
“So, you are questioning your faith?”
“No, Dad. I’m questioning myself,” she replied.
“Your terms are acceptable.” He nodded. “Can we talk more about it over dinner tonight?”
“I can’t. I have plans.”
“Am I allowed to ask what they are?”
“Of course, Dad. I just want you to be prepared for me to not tell you sometimes.”
“You’ve never had plans you couldn’t tell me about before, Amara.” Her father sat in one of the guest chairs at her desk. “Should I be worried?”
“I’m making friends, Dad. It’s a good thing.”
“I know. I know.” He nodded at her. “You just never seemed interested in that before.”
“I was always interested in having friends. What kid doesn’t want friends? I just didn’t make them easily back then.”
“But you are now?”
Amara thought about how best to answer that question. Technically, she’d made some friends. But they were Hillary’s friends. Her plans tonight were with her girlfriend. She was ready to tell him that she wanted a new job and her own place to live, but she wasn’t ready to have the conversation about her new romance yet.
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