“Winner, winner, chicken dinner…well, lunch.” I don’t grab plates. We can just eat out of the to-go boxes.
“Good, maybe now you’ll get your panties out of the twist they’re in.”
“Definitely.” I make a show of licking my lips in anticipation of the food. Better he thinks my hunger is all that’s bothering me.
As we eat, the second quarter ends, and Jason takes a breath between bites to dive into what I know he’s been dying to approach. “So, how was your date on Friday?” There’s excitement in his voice.
“Oh boy, you had a real date? With who?” Amelia’s wide eyes come around the corner, and they display far more jealousy than curiosity. Shit. Of fucking course this is the time she’d finally come downstairs.
“Bee had me over. On Friday.” I watch my wings instead of her reaction.
“I didn’t tell you, honey? I swore I had.” Good job, Jason. Fucked me with that one. It would’ve been better if she’d known before right now. But it’s not like he has any idea what’s going on behind his back, so I guess I’ll let this one slide.
“No, you definitely didn’t. Well, that’s great. How’d it go?” Amelia’s expression is soft, inquisitive, happy. Though she let the darkness show for a second when our eyes locked, she hid it quickly. It’s a little freaky how good of an actress she is. I never knew.
“Good.” I do not want to talk about this.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to give me? It was good. Unacceptable. What did you guys do? Why did you need comfortable clothes? Please, you’re killing me here.” Jason’s enthusiasm is overwhelming. But luckily Mel interrupts before I can respond.
“Leave the man alone. It’s his business.” And she returns upstairs without another glance toward either of us.
“Don’t listen to her. Tell me everything.” Jason’s smile is wide and hopeful. His eyes are lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Not a chance. Look, the game’s back on.”
I turn up the volume, trying to ignore his shocked pouting.
“You’ll cave.”
Jason’s grumpy concession is a relief. The less I divulge to him, the less he’ll relay to Mel. I can guarantee she wants to hear about Bee and me as much as I want to hear about her and Jason.
Seems fair.
Amelia leaves sometime in the third quarter with a believable explanation of late lunch with a friend and shopping afterward. She reports to Jason she won’t be home until dinner. That will leave about two hours together.
I can do a lot with two hours.
My phone’s on silent, and I remember to leave it in my pocket. Everything would be ruined if Jason saw a text on my screen from Amelia.
The game’s a blowout and I make my excuse to leave with three minutes left of play. “Well, the house isn’t going to clean itself.” I stand up, heading toward the front door, careful not to walk too quickly.
“You sure you have to do it today? I’ll get dinner if you stay.” Jason’s pleas border on pathetic, but I’m impermeable to it.
“It’s been a month. Imagine your house after a month. But like I said, you can feel free to do it for me while I stay here with the game.” Jason’s cringe says it all. I’ve won the battle.
“Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” I wave and run through the chill to my car.
I wait until I pull into my own driveway to look at my phone. My stomach sinks when there isn’t a single message. Maybe Mel changed her mind. Maybe she lost her nerve or just decided she couldn’t go through with it after she heard about Bee.
Fucking shit.
Guess I’ll be watching football instead. Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I throw my car door open in anger. Instead of swinging to its full extent, it hits something soft; the contact is followed by a gasp. My head whips toward the sound.
Or she didn’t change her mind.
Amelia’s standing next to my car holding the door open. Her eyes are filled with enough lust to spill over. No, she definitely didn’t decide to skip this. Her eyes scream ready.
“I thought you were backing out. Where’s your car?” I get out of mine, standing up close to her. Her skin smells sweet, and her eyelashes flutter.
She points several houses down the street where her little silver car sits, still and quiet. I hadn’t seen it there. I close my door, walking toward the house. She follows.
“Not in the slightest. Just didn’t want to look suspicious.”
“Sneaky. You’ve thought this through.” I don’t turn around to see her face as I unlock the door in front of us. I hesitate after the bolt is turned, resting my hand on the metal of the knob. The solid door is the last thing stopping us before taking this somewhere we can’t turn back from. I don’t want to ask what I’m about to, I’m not even positive I care about the answer, but then it’s falling out of my mouth anyway. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve thought about this for years. I’ve thought about you for years.”
And that’s all I needed to hear.
I turn the handle, walking inside with Amelia on my heels. She closes the door behind her then pushes her chest tightly to my back. Suddenly I’m glad I didn’t wear a jacket, and I appreciate how much thinner pajama pants are than jeans. I can feel all of her curves pressed into me.
This will be worth it. There are no thoughts of Jason or Bee left in my head. They’ve flown far away. Right now all I can think about is her behind me and the stiffness in front of me.
I reach behind, grabbing Mel’s wrists. Instead of pulling her to my front, I wrap them tightly around my middle, and she nuzzles my back. I’m not going for intimate, though, so I slide her slender fingers down my waistband. I moan as her skin touches mine, and when she gasps I chuckle. She squeezes before letting go. My dick is rock-hard throbbing, so the release of pressure is tantalizing.
Amelia slowly walks around me, dropping little bits of clothing along the circle. When we’re face-to-face, she smiles with half of her mouth and walks closer. Her heels are off. Her jacket is gone, and her shirt is open, exposing the most delicate lace bra I’ve ever seen.
She leans into my body with hers, coming close to my ear. As she brushes her lips against the lobe, I flash to Saturday night in the woods when I whispered to Homeless from behind. My cock stirs again, and Mel murmurs, “I’ve been dreaming for so long about when you’d finally fuck me. Won’t you fuck me, please?” Oh man.
This is my kind of afternoon.
I growl out a, “Yes,” before pushing her backwards toward my bedroom.
Her hands are down my pants once again, and mine are inside her bra. I don’t think before I act, and I rip her bra in half at the front.
“Oops.”
“Good thing I actually went shopping.” Her words are spaced between biting my lip.
Once I have her knees backed up to the edge of my bed, I push her down on it. We aren’t making love here. I’m not planning to play sweet. She squeals in surprise, but doesn’t stay put. She scrambles to her knees, yanking me down with her.
“Get ready, big boy. I’m going to make you forget your own name.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Mel hops off the bed. She only has her g-string left on, and fuck, her body is better than it ever looked in clothes. I prop myself up on my elbows as she kneels down. My pants are ripped from my hips and thrown to the corner of the room. She sucks my dick into her mouth faster than I can inhale.
She wasn’t kidding.
I have no idea what’s coming out of my mouth, and I’m not even sure it’s English, but I don’t give a shit. She brings me to the edge, then backs off before she goes too far.
“Don’t think it’ll be so easy for you. I want mine, too.” She shimmies out of her panties, kicking them aside.
“Well hop on, then.” And she does as she’s told.
I can’t keep my hands off her smooth legs. There isn’t an ounce of cellulite on this woman, and s
he knows exactly what she’s doing. Her thrusts meet mine with perfect timing and equal intensity. My mouth moves from her nipples to her neck, but never to her mouth.
That seems wrong, somehow too far.
Before long, Amelia throws her long hair back, screaming in pleasure. She continues moving, moaning, for several moments before looking down to smile at me.
“My turn.” I grab both of her hips, bucking her off. Her face displays confusion, but I don’t leave her waiting long.
I rush at her, shoving her face first toward the wall, but not letting her collide with it. I kick her feet apart and run my fingers along her smooth skin. She’s still wet and throbbing for more. I aim to deliver.
Holding her wrists above her head and against the wall with my right hand, I enter her from behind. My left hand moves between her breasts and the wall, squeezing her nipples harder than she probably prefers. But right now is about me. She already had her time. I bite her shoulder, though I make sure not to bite hard enough to make a mark. That’d be hard for her to explain later. Soon I’m on the precipice, and wrapped in her pleasure I let myself fall over the edge.
When I catch my breath I pull out, letting her turn around. We’re both flush, covered in a sheen of sweat.
“So have your years of dreams set the bar too high?”
In other words, was it good enough to have a repeat performance later?
“Absolutely not. I think I saw stars for a minute. This needs to happen again.”
Amelia then gathers her clothes, walking to the bathroom to freshen up. I hear the shower starting while I throw my pajama pants back on. No need for a shirt any longer, especially since I’m still hot as hell. I flop down on the couch and think of Jason doing the same earlier. Then I wince.
Well, shit. What’s done is done, and the new, improved Aidan does what he wants without looking back.
I turn on the TV to watch something other than football, surfing a few channels while the water still runs. The news is on, and I leave it there while I head to the kitchen in search of something to snack on. I didn’t have lunch too long ago, and I still want a real dinner later, but I worked up an appetite. I deserve a little treat.
With chips in hand, I move back to the couch. Amelia walks into the room fresh and clean, looking the same as she did before ever stepping foot inside.
She leans over to kiss my cheek and requests, “Let’s not wait too long to do this again.”
“Absolutely,” is all I reply. I don’t get up or walk her to the door, but I do say goodbye.
****
After Amelia leaves with a wide grin still on her face, I redirect my attention back to the TV, and what I see sends my heartbeat racing. I dump the chips on the floor as I jump to my feet.
No, no, no, no, NO.
The volume isn’t loud, so I don’t hear what’s being said, but I see a picture of The-One-Who-Doesn’t-Count and the giant block letters MISSING. I turn it up to learn her name was Kate Masten, and no one has any clue of her whereabouts. The police are requesting any tips to be called in.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Repeat slowly.
I count to ten, forcing my heart to slow. There’s still no connection to me. Hopefully her body is never found, or at least not until the water has washed away every trace of evidence.
My secret must remain safe.
I still can’t sleep. My eyes haven’t closed longer than a blink since I flipped to the news. I have my interview in the morning (this morning), and I’m first in line to give my pitch for Eva’s position. I need to be on my game, but it’s only an hour and a half before I’m supposed to leave for work. I might as well get up to get ready. I’ll need a shower and a whole lot of coffee to make a workday possible.
In the hot water, my senses start to come to attention. I curse myself again for not sleeping. It didn’t solve anything. I watched the news for hours yesterday after Amelia left. I watched way too late, and even when I finally turned it off I continued to think about what I’d seen. I worried, chided myself, worried more, and then started the process over again.
And again.
I couldn’t look away. I felt pushed to keep watching to see if any new information about The-One-Who-Doesn’t-Count was revealed. Nothing ever was. But I watched and watched regardless. I learned she had no family. Her roommate, a plain-looking girl named Ashley, is the one who reported her missing, but not until several days after she’d spent her last night with me. She regularly spent a few nights away without checking in. Not much else was disclosed. They know she’s missing and she was last seen at the bar. That’s pretty much it.
All of that should relax me. It’s nothing to go on for the police, and so far from connected to me it’s almost laughable. Almost.
I waited for the anchor to say something along the lines of, “Aidan Sheppard killed her. The police are in pursuit of him now.” Though it never came. To the authorities, and everyone but me, it all remains a total mystery.
Knowing didn’t do much for my anxiety. I had two oversized glasses of Jack to calm down, and then I repeated a mantra over and over until I could relax enough to lie still in bed. You have no connection to her. None at all. You’ll never get caught, went round and round my head for a few hours.
That’s what helped the most. When I thought logically, took my fear out of the equation, I could see there wasn’t a single soul who could connect me to her. Even the evidence should be gone by now and will be further degraded by the time she’s found. If she’s ever found. Which she probably won’t be if she hasn’t been by now.
I finish my shower, brush my teeth, and get dressed. I don’t need to rush, but I leave myself twenty minutes to make and drink two cups of coffee. I take the third with me as I head to work.
The timing of the news report could’ve been a little better.
****
I exit the interview feeling okay about it. I didn’t do terribly. I didn’t do amazing, either. I won’t be surprised if I don’t get it. It will sting if I miss out again, but every single coworker interviewing today is a thousand times better than Eva. None of these people are stealing what should be mine. I didn’t help them and later have credit stolen from my ideas and work. I used to deserve the spot, I used to work harder, though now I’ve landed some new objectives in life, and I’m not quite as focused as I used to be.
I’m not even completely sure how much I want it.
Going back to my office, I finally feel okay again. I hadn’t from the moment I saw The-One-Who-Doesn’t-Count on television. It was as if her ghost was coming back for me, to torture me. But I’ve let the nervousness leech out of my system now. I’ve been careful each time. And I make a final concession to myself to up my cover-up tactics even more from now on.
I poke my head into Jason’s office to wish him luck before returning to my own.
“Go get ’em.”
“Thanks. May the best man win.”
I nod, heading to my computer for a boring day of numbers and spreadsheets. The thought makes my eyes droop a little. This all used to be fulfilling. Not so much anymore.
Just before sitting down in my too-comfortable chair I backtrack, deciding another cup of coffee from downstairs is needed.
****
Before I know it, Friday afternoon arrives, and my spirits are high again while leaving. I’m not sure where the whole week went, but now it’s the weekend again. I’m okay with that. Tonight I have a second date with Bee. Or…is it a date? I don’t know if she considers us to be dating. I don’t even know if I do. Either way, we’re spending the evening together, and I’m excited about it again. Tonight it’s my turn to make the plans, so I’m doing something different than what she put together last week.
I’ll be picking her up, and each activity is a surprise. I have no idea if she likes surprises, but don’t most people? We won’t be spending any time at either of our houses, either. I’m proving a point. I know she’s already tested me, so
to stay ahead of the curve I’ll ace one test before she even poses it. I’m showing her I’m happy to be with her in public, and I don’t intend to hide whatever it is we’re doing (though, I’m still not entirely sure what that is). Either way, I’m racking up brownie points.
Our plans don’t begin until midnight, so I have a lot of time to kill between now and then. I’ve already debated getting a haircut, cleaning my house, and doing laundry, but none of those options are striking me. The weekends have become wonderful lately, and I don’t want to do anything today that’s not begging me to be done.
I settle on getting dinner and heading where the wind blows me until it’s time to go to Bee’s.
I choose Randy Red for dinner. Even though it’s a bit out of the way, they have the best chicken between here and Vermont. I have no qualms about sitting alone for dinner, so it’s a table for one. I don’t rush, but I don’t stay long, because I’ve gotten a little bored. There isn’t a TV or game to watch while waiting.
Leaving the restaurant, it’s already dark.
Fucking winter nights.
I still feel unfinished, so instead of heading home I drive to the mall in search of a new shirt. My first date with Bee was in sweats, and I think I can do better. I pick out dark jeans, a replacement watch for the one I still can’t find, black chucks, and a charcoal gray, long-sleeved thermal shirt before heading up to the register.
“How are you tonight?”
The cashier is overweight, sweaty, and she has lipstick on her teeth. Her words are slow and almost sound as if she’s done some rehab after a stroke. Unappealing.
“Fine. And you?” Three polite words in return and her eyes light up like Christmas. She widens her red, smeared smile.
“Wonderful. Buying these for anything special?”
None of your business.
“Nope.”
After cutting off her line of questioning, we finish the transaction in silence until she bids me a good evening. There are so many people in the world that’d serve me better tied to the back of my car, bumping down a dirt road.
Nothing but Darkness (Darkness Series Book 1) Page 18
