Just a Number

by A. D. Ryan

  “Owen,” she pants when I pull my lips from hers and kiss along her delicate jaw, letting my length graze the silky skin between her legs.

  “Tell me,” I murmur between pecks, hiking her skirt up around her waist before palming one of her amazing breasts in my left hand. “Tell me who you belong to.”

  Her body quivers against mine, her legs tightening around my hips and trying to force me closer to her, desperate to have me inside her.

  I recognize that Amelia isn’t the type of girl who allows a guy to treat her like a possession; she’s strong and confident, never taking shit from anyone—male or female—but she seems receptive to it as she moans and gyrates her hips against me. She hisses when I push my hips forward, my erection strong and prominent as it glides between her thighs. “Amelia,” I say, my tone laced with impatience.

  “You,” she whimpers, meeting my intense stare, eyebrows pulled up and together, pleading. “I belong to you.”

  I kiss her again before pulling her lower lip between my teeth as I slip my hand around her ass and adjust her hips slightly to line us up. She moans when I graze her delicate flesh, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes in ecstasy.

  “Baby,” she whispers. “Please…”

  Smiling smugly, I lean forward, my lips grazing the shell of her ear. “Tell me what you want.”

  The tip of my erection brushes against her again, and she bites back a cry of passion. “You,” she replies breathlessly when I shift my hips again.

  I hum with the shake of my head. “Not good enough.”

  Amelia threads her fingers into my damp hair as I kiss a trail down her collarbone and take one of her pert nipples into my mouth. My tongue swirls around the erect peak, and she arches her back toward me. “I-I want you.” With a smirk, I nip at the swell of her breast, surprising a gasp from her. “Make love to me,” she begs. “Claim me, Owen. Make me yours.”

  With a growl of satisfaction, I pull back. A look of confusion sweeps over Amelia’s face, but it is quickly replaced with bliss the second I grip her hips and enter her. Her fingers curl into my neck and shoulders as her cries fill the room, and while I’m definitely enjoying the sensation of her tight warmth surrounding me, the truth of the matter is, the standing position is slightly awkward.

  She pulls my lips back to hers as I peel her back from the wall and walk us back toward the couch. I lower us and then withdraw from between her thighs, earning a very frustrated groan that is short-lived as I flip her over onto her hands and knees. Grabbing the arm of the couch, she presents herself to me while my hands move roughly over her skin with purpose. I bunch the supple leather skirt up around her slender waist, exposing her to me entirely. My hands continue to glide over Amelia’s ass, and then up along the curve of her hips and toward her shoulders before moving back down her spine. She groans when I reach the base of her spine, gently sliding my fingers between her cheeks and applying the right amount of pressure to make her mewl. Her hands tighten around the arm of the couch, nails scratching the leather ever-so-lightly as I continue to tease her, and she begs quietly for me to take her again. The sound of her voice fades as I oblige her, moving slowly at first, my hips pistoning at a steady pace, my enthusiasm increasing.

  My fingers continue to knead the soft flesh of her tight little ass, and she cries out when I begin thrusting harder and faster, my pleasure amplifying. My vision starts to blur and every muscle in my body tenses, coiling tight and preparing to release. I’m seconds away from what promises to be the most mind-blowing orgasm I’ve ever had, and Amelia is announcing how close she is as well when I pull away from her body for a second time.

  With another, more vocal, groan of displeasure, she turns to look at me. I only smile wickedly before sitting back on the couch, legs parted and arms draped along the back. She glances down to my lap, finding me still rock-hard and glistening, and I watch her expectantly. Not only do I want to watch her ride me to completion, but I need to be face to face with her when it happens, too. I crave the pleasure of watching her face as she comes undone.

  Understanding flashes in her hooded eyes, and she slowly stands up and heads my way. After removing her skirt entirely, she lifts her right leg to straddle my lap. Amelia closes her eyes as I slip a hand between us and use it to guide my length into her. The instant she’s sitting flat against my thighs, I ensnare her hips and set our pace. Our mutual need is so intense that she attempts to move her hips faster, and I want to allow her the freedom to do this, but I also want to draw this out for just a little while longer. I succeed in holding her steady, forcing her to hold off on her own orgasm until I’m ready to come with her.

  Leaning forward, Amelia rests her damp forehead against mine, opening her eyes slightly to find mine equally as hooded, and she licks her lips. “Baby, please,” she begs, slipping a hand between us and stroking herself. She inhales a shuddered breath as she continues to move her fingers in concise circles, and I—completely turned on by the sight and feel of her working her body into a sexual frenzy—grip her ass tightly, pulling her against me a little rougher and forcing her hand to press harder.

  I feel it then—my orgasm. The waves wash over me, pulling me under as I press my forehead to Amelia’s sternum, bringing my right hand up to cup her breast as I pulse inside her. She cries out, freeing her hand from between us and placing it along my jaw, coaxing my lips to hers as she comes. I swallow her cries, my breathing deep, and my arms wind around her body to hold her against me as I collapse back into the couch. I can feel her heartbeat against my chest. It’s not in time with mine at first, but eventually they both slow to a regular pace.

  Amelia’s fingers trace the length of my arm and shoulder, her warm breath fanning across my skin. “Owen?” she speaks up.

  “Hmm?”

  “All that talk about babies… That was hypothetical, right? Or… Is that how you feel right now—in this moment?”

  I inhale deeply, Amelia rising as my chest expands. “Completely hypothetical. For now. But the desire to have a family—with you—is very present in my every waking thought lately.”

  I feel her smile against my skin. “I can’t say I really thought about it before now, but the idea is appealing…in the future.”

  “As long as you were serious about being open to one day discussing it, then we don’t have to worry about it right now.”

  An easy silence fills the room. Minutes pass before I urge Amelia to sit up, and when our eyes lock, she looks worried again. “I’m sorry for last night,” she says quietly. “And for this morning.”

  Unable to let her shoulder all the blame anymore, I shake my head. “No, sweetheart, I’m sorry. What I did… God, I was such a fool.” I encase her face in my hands, stroking her cheekbones with my thumbs. “Of course I trust you. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. My anger and confusion made me say those hurtful things, but I obviously don’t mean them. I can only hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “Forgive you? Owen, there’s nothing to forgive.”

  I sigh, taking her hands in mine. “You say that, but I still fear I’ve hurt you irreparably. It pains me to think I’ve driven a wedge between us after all we’ve been through to try and make this relationship work and be accepted.” I raise Amelia’s hand to my lips and press a kiss to her knuckles.

  “Owen, I love you,” she assures me.

  “And I love you,” I tell her, my voice surprisingly low and gravelly. “And you weren’t entirely wrong when you accused me of overreacting last night. Or this morning. I should have known you would never abuse my trust, and to even accuse you of doing so was…an insult to our relationship. I shouldn’t have compared you to Gretchen.” I inhale deeply. “I want us to be okay.”

  Smiling, she pushes my hair from my forehead and nods. “We are,” she tells me. “We both made mistakes last night, so you can’t shoulder all the blame. Just…promise me we’ll work on our communication skills?”

  I chuckle dryly. “Absolutely,” I agree
, kissing her forehead lightly. “I’d still really like to make it up to you, though.”

  Obviously feeling giddy, she arches an eyebrow. “Oh?” I nod. “And what, exactly, did you have in mind?”

  My lips curve up into a devilish smirk, clearly piquing her curiosity even more, and without another word, I scoop her up and carry her to the bedroom where I toss her on the bed and continue to show her just how sorry I am.

  Epilogue. Once in a Lifetime

  Over the years, Owen and I have had our share of difficulties…but what relationship hasn’t? Every uphill battle we’ve had to fight has only brought us closer and made our relationship that much stronger.

  His divorce was finalized a few short months after Gretchen had found out about us. Sure, she tried to claim that Owen and I had been sleeping together for weeks before he filed for divorce, but when her affairs were proven to have gone on for over three years, the judge immediately ruled in Owen’s favor. He didn’t have to give that gold-digging bitch a dime. He sold her car, after offering it to me. While the idea of a new car was definitely appealing, I would have felt weird driving around in the ice-bitch’s car.

  Instead, he took me to a dealership, where he complained and tried to reason with me about letting him buy me a brand new car because the “warranty would be better.” I told him I couldn’t afford it and I wasn’t going to accept handouts from my boyfriend. I found a great little car, and after some compromising, I let Owen put a small down payment on it in order to secure me a lower monthly installment.

  I have plans to pay him back, and have been squirreling money away to do so. He’d never accept a handful of cash from me, so instead, I’ve slowly been letting it build in an account that I plan to merge with his in the future. I know his intention isn’t to have me feel like a kept woman, and I don’t, really, but I also feel bad that he spends the kind of money he does on me…especially after Gretchen took advantage of him the way she did. I want our relationship to be as close to 50/50 as possible, so if that means I’m saving this money with the intention of one day merging it with his, then that’s what I’ll do. I never want him to feel like I’m siphoning off of him the way she did.

  There’s a knock on the bathroom door before it opens a crack. “You almost ready? We’re going to be late,” Owen says, slipping into the room when he sees me fussing with my hair. He takes my hand and pulls it away from my head. “You look perfect.”

  My nerves are shot as I turn to him. One look at him in his tux, and I feel calmer—but only mildly. “You look amazing,” I tell him. I bite the inside of my cheek, suddenly filled with the urge to remove his clothes and take him back to the king-sized bed in our hotel room and have my way with him.

  He must recognize the look in my eyes because he laughs. “Not nearly as amazing as you.” I glance down at the floor-length blue gown I’m wearing, admiring the way the bodice fits snugly, but the skirt flares and flows from my hips.

  “You sure?”

  Owen takes me to the full-length mirror in the hall and stands behind me, hands on my hips as he presses a kiss to my bare shoulder and straightens up. His tie matches the color of my dress, really bringing out the color of his eyes. I relax a little more,, my stomach flipping—a feeling I’ve become accustomed to these last few days.

  It’s been three years since that thanksgiving we admitted our feelings for one another, and in that time, I’d finished up school and secured a sweet journalism position with a local news station. Owen and I had been to a few counseling sessions in order to understand one another and how to communicate better, and while I was reluctant to go initially, I have to admit, they’ve done a world of wonders for our relationship. It’s helped Owen overcome his feelings of mistrust and insecurities that his marriage to Gretchen had forced on him, and it’s helped me understand these feelings and how I could help to not trigger them. We both slip up from time to time, sure, but for the most part, we are rocking this May-December romance.

  The subject of marriage and kids has come up a few times—more recently as of late. Owen has wanted a family for a while now, and now that I’ve finished college and have started my career, I’m definitely entertaining the idea a little more…especially today.

  My stomach rolls, my nerves kicking into high gear. Today is a big day in more ways than one, but I have to make it through one big event before moving on to the next.

  Owen leads me from the room and we take the elevator down to the main floor of the hotel we’re staying at. Instead of going to the lobby, we head toward the banquet room, the sound of a string quartet growing louder as we near the closed double doors.

  There, pacing in front of the doors is a nervous looking Carla. Her dark hair is pulled up into a sleek chignon, and the white dress she’s wearing fits her curvy body perfectly. It’s simple and sleek and hugs her in all the right places. She looks up as we approach, and she looks relieved. “There you are!” she exclaims. “Alan is inside, and I think they’re almost ready to start.” She looks at me and smiles. “Aren’t you a vision.”

  “Me?” I question with a wide grin. “Carla, you look amazing. My dad is going to lose it when he see you.” A blush fills her cheeks, and I pull her into a hug. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

  Owen places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to head inside to see how Alan is holding up.”

  I tilt my head up when he leans in to kiss me, and Carla speaks up. “Can you send Hayley and Ethan out, please?” Owen agrees with a nod, and then he’s inside the banquet hall, and Carla and I are alone for a minute before her kids arrive.

  Hayley and I grab our bouquets of flowers just as the music shifts to the wedding march, and the double doors are pulled open. I walk through them first, seeing my dad and noticing how handsome he looks in his suit. It’s not often he gets dressed up like this, so I take in the sight, knowing it could be another decade before I see it again.

  Hopefully not, though.

  Then my eyes catch Owen’s as I continue my way down the aisle. I’m immediately imagining what it might be like if this were our wedding day, and I realize I might actually be ready to take that step with him. Tears warm my eyes as I take my place directly across from him in front of the alter. His eyes never leave mine, and he smiles.

  Hayley soon joins me at the alter, and then we all turn to watch as Ethan walks his mother down the aisle and toward my father. The smiles on their faces are infectious, and I can’t help the happy tears that slip from my eyes as they say their vows to one another. Owen captures my attention once more, and he looks just as happy as I feel.

  When the ceremony is done, we clear the room so they can set up for the reception. We gather outside for a few photos with friends and relatives, and Owen never leaves my side, his hand always around my waist. I can tell he’s caught up in the emotions today has brought on. And to tell you the truth, so am I.

  Dinner is amazing, and before we know it, our plates are all being cleared and the music is picking up tempo as the party kicks off. We all watch and admire the love my dad and Carla have for each other as they share their first dance. I sit on Owen’s lap, his arms around my waist and his chin resting on my bare shoulder, and I wonder what our song might be. There’ve been so many that we’ve danced to over the years, but is there one that really defines our relationship?

  The music shifts to another slow song, and I’m shocked to see my dad approach us. He smiles, holding out a hand. “Can I steal her away for a few minutes?” he asks Owen.

  “She’s not mine to own,” he replies, releasing me from his hold.

  “Good answer” Dad takes me by the hand and leads me onto the dance floor. Neither one of us is entirely talented in the art of slow dancing, so we just move back and forth to the music, and a few people slowly start to join us.

  “The wedding was beautiful,” I tell him. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

  “Carla did a good job, didn’t she?” I nod, and then there’s another moment of silence between
us. “You know he wants all this, right?” I look at him, confused for just a second. “With you, Amy.”

  I swallow thickly. While Dad had come to accept our relationship, it isn’t something we talk about without some level of awkwardness. “Oh? And…how would you feel about that?” I had come to expect that Owen might not be ready to ask me to marry him based on how my dad might react when we told him.

  Dad sighs. “He’s a good man, Amy. I might not have been the most accepting in the beginning, but I can see how much he loves you and how much you love him. If you’re happy, then that’s all that should matter.”

  “He asked for your blessing, didn’t he?” Dad tries to keep the truth from his eyes, but the corner of his lip twitches with the hint of a smile, and I try to contain the giddy smile I feel in my cheeks. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. “Thank you.”

  When our song ends, I feel a familiar spark as a hand touches the small of my back, and I turn to see Owen there. “May I cut in?” he asks politely, and my dad obliges with a silent nod before heading off to find his new bride.

  “How’s your night?” Owen inquires, trying to make small talk while he glides us across the wood floor.

  “It’s pretty great so far,” I respond as he turns us, pulling me closer to his body. “Yours?”

  Owen’s sparkling blue eyes drift to the twinkly lights above us, and he shrugs. “Things are looking up.”