Amy's Wish (Wish Series Book 1)

by Kay Harris

  “Hmmmm. I like.”

  “Thank God,” he moaned as those hands went lower still.

  She reached for him so slowly he thought death would find him before she got there. When she did get her hands on him, she completely lost her inhibitions about touching. Her soft little hands were insatiable. She explored every centimeter of him. Her eyes soaked him up nearly as deeply as her fingers.

  He knew his stomach was involuntarily spasming and he was occasionally letting out a deep groan. But aside from that, he stayed absolutely still.

  “How do I make you come?” she asked.

  He wasn’t sure if he could form words, so it took a moment, causing her to look up into his eyes and her head to tilt to the side in that adorable way she did when she was curious.

  “Um…lubricant.”

  She hesitated for a moment. “Where?”

  He smiled. “I’ll get it.” He started to get up.

  Amy put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “Let me.”

  “Bathroom drawer. Right hand side, second one down,” he huffed out.

  Amy moved through the condo as if she’d lived there every day of her life, retrieved the little bottle and ran back to the couch. It was nearly empty and Amy squeezed out all the remaining clear oil onto her palm. Then, without stopping to think about it, she ran her palm around him, slicking him up.

  He let out a whimper. “Now, grip me.” Even as he gave the instruction, she did it. He sucked in a deep breath. “And just…stroke up and down.”

  “Like this?” She asked, doing an absolutely killer job for anyone, let alone a virgin.

  “God, yes.”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she concentrated on her task. And somehow this neophyte, working so hard to make him come, straddling his thighs in only her panties, her creamy breasts dangling in front of him, was all he needed to explode in an incredible, and embarrassingly quick, orgasm.

  Her eyes were wide with wonder as he came all over her hand, calling out, “Jesus, baby! Jesus!”

  When he’d come down, she collapsed on him, ignoring the mess he’d made and kissed him hard. “That was freaking amazing!”

  Carlos might not survive this woman. But he would die very, very happy. “Stay here,” he said, his breath heavy.

  “All night?” she asked.

  He squeezed his arms around her. “Please.”

  “Can we do that some more?”

  “Fuck, yes.”

  “Okay. I’ll stay.”

  ****

  A chorus of exultant female voices blended together into one long, loud, “Oooohhhh!” as Marilyn stepped out of the dressing room in what was either the thirteenth or fourteenth dress. Amy was losing count. Each dress had been accompanied by the same level of enthusiasm. At this rate, Amy had no idea how Marilyn was going to choose which dress to wear on her wedding day.

  When Amy had agreed to fly home for this weekend of wedding prep with her mom, cousins, and aunts, she hadn’t realized it would be hard on her libido.

  She’d had a good week with Carlos. They had explored each other, and thoroughly covered second base. Amy had even bought and then smuggled multiple bottles of fancy lubricant in her purse. Carlos had been surprised when she’d presented them to him and explained that it been part of Marcel’s excellent sex advice. Armed with those bottles of lube, Amy had perfected the art of the hand job. And just when she was ready to move on in her sexual education, Carlos had to leave town for a weeklong conference in New York.

  They’d actually met up at the airport as she was flying out to San Diego for the weekend and he was flying back from the conference. A stolen moment in a crowded airport had only made her long for him more. Now it would be three days before she saw Carlos again, and it was nearly killing her.

  “Amy. What do you think of the dress?” her mother asked.

  Amy gestured to the newest combination of silk and lace that hung from Marilyn’s substantial shoulders. “This one is my favorite.”

  “Mine too!” Marilyn cried.

  With the dress chosen, the gaggle of Trinkus and soon-to-be Trinkus women went out to a late lunch. And that’s where the conversation took a dangerous turn, away from the upcoming nuptials and onto Amy’s love life.

  “Have you met Amy’s guy, YaYa?” Aunt Beth asked.

  YaYa shook her head. She lived in San Francisco, a half-hour drive from Amy’s home in Richmond. And while they made a point to get together fairly often, Amy had been keeping Carlos to herself.

  “He’s been busy. I’ve been busy,” Amy said. “I haven’t had enough time with him lately. But I’ll bring him home soon.” She just hoped she wouldn’t regret making that vow.

  “Well, what’s he like?” her mother asked.

  “He’s the Vice President of the finance department.”

  “We know that!” YaYa threw her arms up in exasperation. “But what’s he like?”

  Amy shrugged.

  “Okay.” YaYa leaned over and pointed her fork at Amy. “Let’s try this: What does he look like?”

  “He’s very handsome.” Amy smiled to herself thinking of Carlos’ strong jaw and the way it looked with a day’s worth of stubble covering it.

  “Ugh!” YaYa exclaimed. “Handsome? What does that mean? That is not helpful.”

  “Here,” Marilyn said, handing YaYa her phone.

  YaYa gazed at the screen. “Oh. Oh!”

  Amy leaned over to peek at the phone. She sat beside her cousin at the long rectangular table in the corner of the busy restaurant and they were pushed close together enough for Amy to easily see the picture of Carlos Marilyn had fished off the company website.

  “Let me see!” Aunt Trish said.

  YaYa passed Marilyn’s phone around and everyone, even Marilyn’s mostly disinterested mother, discussed Carlos’ rugged good looks. Amy experienced a strange mix of pride and jealousy as the women fawned over his strong features and natural hotness.

  “What is he like?” her mother asked. “He looks very serious.”

  “He is. At work,” Amy said. “But with me, he’s…different. And with his family, too.”

  That had been a mistake. The women immediately took offense to the fact that Amy had met Carlos’ family but they hadn’t met him. No amount of excuses, or the very logical explanation that Carlos’ family all lived in the Bay Area, helped her cause.

  After that explosion, they asked a million more questions about his family and his upbringing. It wasn’t until lunch was gobbled up and they were lingering over cheesecake that YaYa got super inappropriate. “So, have you had sex with him, yet?”

  “YaYa!” Amy exclaimed. “I can’t believe you!” She swiveled her head around in hopes of finding allies who were also appalled at the question. She found none.

  “I think we’d all like to know,” Aunt Beth said.

  “Seriously? I can’t believe this. It’s none of your business. I don’t ask you all about your sex life.”

  “It’s different,” her mother said. Her own mother!

  “Yeah,” YaYa interjected. “You went thirty years with no love life, Amy. We are trying to look out for you.”

  Of course they were. That’s what they always did. Protect her. Smother her. “I ardently believe that this is none of your business. But, to get you off my back, no, I haven’t slept with him, yet.”

  “Yet,” her mother repeated, softly.

  “Here’s the thing,” YaYa said. “We think you should hold off.”

  “What?” Amy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. After all these years she’d found the sex drive her family had so desperately wished for her and now they wanted her to hold off?

  “Look,” her mother said, leaning over the table toward her, which caused her to smash her cheesecake into her chest. “You don’t want to just jump into bed with the first man you’re interested in. You should play the field.”

  Amy was speechless. She turned to YaYa, focusing on her as she went on, pick
ing up where her mother left off. “You told me you were into other men now, too. You said you noticed them. So, maybe there’s someone else who will catch your attention.”

  “I don’t want someone else. I want Carlos,” Amy insisted.

  “He’s just the first one to catch your eye, Amy. You can’t just jump in bed with the first guy!” Marilyn said.

  “Let us help you find a nice man,” Aunt Beth told her.

  She looked from one woman to the next. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

  It was Marilyn’s mother, who had just come for the dress shopping and was clearly bored with this whole conversation, who confirmed it with a sharp nod.

  “Unbelievable!” Amy wanted to slam her napkin on the table and storm out, walking away from them all. But she couldn’t ever do that. That wasn’t an option for her. They’d freak out, they’d probably call the police and have an APB put out on her. Amy never got to walk out in anger like everyone else on the planet. The best she could do was move from Southern California to Northern California.

  ****

  Amy had flown in on Thursday night. She’d wasted an annual leave day doing wedding stuff and listening to the women in her family tell her she should play the field on Friday. She’d spent Saturday with her uncles, which had been significantly more pleasant, even if she did hate bowling. She still had to get through Saturday night dinner with the whole family, Sunday morning church, and lunch before she could head to the airport and back to Richmond and Carlos.

  Dinner should have been the simplest. It was just her and her mom plus Uncle Clint, Aunt Beth, YaYa, Tim, and Marilyn. The subject of the dress they’d purchased the day before was off limits because Tim was present, but otherwise, it should have been an easy evening.

  That was until she was asked by her mother to make an extra place setting at the table. The red flags went up. But, perhaps YaYa was bringing a date. It wouldn’t be the first time. Or maybe Marilyn’s mother was joining them.

  Aunt Beth’s exuberance, accompanied by Uncle Clint’s pursed lips should have served as further warning, and by the time YaYa arrived with a thirty-something bank teller whose mother was in the same book club as Aunt Beth, Amy smelled a rat.

  The poor man, Blaine, was placed next to Amy at the table. He seemed to know from the beginning that he was being set up with her. He was kind and talkative. He asked a million questions about her while the rest of the family stayed basically silent.

  They were most of the way through the meal, Amy gritting her teeth and answering in the shortest possible grunts to each of Blaine’s questions when she’d finally had enough.

  “Blaine just got promoted at the bank, didn’t you, dear?” Aunt Beth said.

  “Yes, and he’s quite the traveller. Aren’t you, Blaine?” Amy’s mother said. “Why, he told me when I ran into him at the bank yesterday that he loves traveling to San Francisco.”

  Amy just bet her mother “ran into” Blaine. This whole thing was a set-up.

  “I do love the Bay Area the clueless man said. “And my bank has several branches there.”

  Amy threw her white cloth napkin, a set of which her mother reserved for special occasions, onto her plate. “Blaine, I’m sorry.” She stood, causing her chair to make a cacophonous squeal as it slid back on the hardwood floor. “I don’t understand you,” she said to her family. “You were all so happy that I started dating Carlos, and now you can’t seem to accept it.”

  “Oh, they accept that you date now, honey,” Uncle Clint said. “They just want to pick out who you date.” He patted his belly casually. Aunt Beth swatted him on the arm.

  Poor Blaine’s face fell. “You’re dating someone?”

  “Yes, I am. His name is Carlos and he’s wonderful. And I picked him out myself.” She poked herself in the chest with her forefinger so hard it stung a little. “And I don’t appreciate you all sabotaging what I have with Carlos like this.”

  “Honey, you’ve just barely started seeing the man,” Amy’s mother said.

  “And you haven’t slept with him yet,” YaYa said.

  Uncle Clint turned a deep shade of green. Blaine, on the other hand, was bright red. And Amy got the hell out of there. She ran, as far as her bedroom at least. Though she wanted to run all the way to Richmond, all the way home.

  Chapter 12

  The plane couldn’t get her to the Oakland airport fast enough. After a night of listening to her mother, aunt, and cousin apologize while simultaneously justifying their behavior, Amy’d had to attend church with them the next morning only to be bombarded again.

  This time it was the pastor’s newly divorced son. He was looking for a good woman to settle down and help him weekend-raise his three kids. Amy turned down his offer to “go for coffee and get to know one another better” as politely as she could.

  So when Carlos greeted her just outside the secure area at the airport, she thought she’d died and gone to heaven. She didn’t care that they were in a big public place and stood a small chance of being seen by a co-worker. As soon as she saw tall, dark, and handsome with his chiseled face and his muscular arms, she launched herself into them.

  Once they were in Carlos’ SUV he asked her, “Do you need to stop at your place?”

  She loved that he automatically assumed she planned to stay with him tonight, because she absolutely did. “Yes. I’ll grab some clothes for tomorrow.”

  He nodded.

  “I missed you,” she told him.

  He grinned. “I missed you, too.”

  With that truth expressed, the logistics of spending the night with Carlos invaded her brain. “What about arriving at work together in the morning? How will that work.”

  He shrugged. “We’ll figure it out.”

  At her apartment, she quickly unpacked her small carry-on suitcase and then repacked it with a few outfits to take to Carlos’ condo. When she got back out to the living room, Carlos and Marcel were engaged in a deep discussion about Ava DuVernay movies and Marcel was clearly smitten.

  Carlos looked up at Amy as she entered the room, her wheeled suitcase trailing behind her. “God, you look good.”

  She wore a simple cotton traveling dress and a sweater. Warm and comfortable, it was anything but sexy. “Thanks.”

  Marcel swiveled his head between them, his chin-length dreads swooshing around his face. “Damn. You two are so in love.”

  Rather than deal with that embarrassing statement. Carlos got up and took Amy’s suitcase in his hand. Amy leaned over and gave Marcel a peck on the cheek. “Be good,” she said.

  “Kay. See you soon, lovebirds,” Marcel teased.

  The first few minutes of the ride to Carlos’ condo were held in silence. But Carlos broke it when they were halfway to his place. “So, how was your visit?”

  “Irritating,” she answered honestly.

  “Awww. Why’s that?”

  Amy bit her lip. “Actually. I don’t want to tell you.”

  Carlos frowned. “That’s…unfortunate.”

  “It’s just that…ugh…my family were kind of jerks.”

  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t push her to tell him. But the disappointment at her hesitation was written all over his face and it got to her. “Okay. Truth is they tried to set me up.”

  “Set you up?”

  “Yeah. They think now that I’m…different…changed…whatever, I should see lots of people. You know, play the field. So they brought some guy to dinner, then at church they tried to hook me up with the pastor’s son.”

  “Church? What kind of church?”

  “Episcopalian. But I don’t go to church around here. I just go when I’m back home to make my mother happy. You?”

  “I was raised Catholic, but I haven’t been to church in years.”

  “We’re getting distracted,” she said as they turned onto the street that would take them to Carlos’ place.

  “So they tried to set you up?”

  “Yes.” Amy couldn’t understand why
he wasn’t as indignant about this as she was. “What do you think about that?”

  “They have a point.”

  “What?”

  “I get it. You just opened your eyes and entered a whole new world—the world of dating. They want you to make sure you have the right person for you before you plunge in. It makes sense.”

  For the first time since she and Carlos had started seeing each other, Amy was pissed at him. How dare he suggest she go out with other men. She wanted Carlos for herself and she desperately wanted him to feel the same way about her. The collision of anger and pain inside her chest made her want to lash out.

  Carlos pulled into the parking garage and she waited as he made the arcing turns around and around until he got to his designated spot. He pulled in and cut off the engine. His hand was on the door when she hit him with her anger. “So, I guess it’s okay with you that I told the pastor’s son I’d go out to dinner with him when he’s in town next week then.”

  He froze in mid-motion. Without looking at her he asked, “Are you serious?”

  “Are you serious about not caring?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t care.” He turned to her. “I said I understood their point of view.”

  Amy folded her arms over her chest, still guarded, still a little hurt. “Meaning what? That you agree with them? That you think I should play the field?”

  Carlos leaned forward, his eyes narrowed, his lips tight. “You want the truth?”

  She nodded tersely, her heart hammering in her chest.

  “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll tell you.”

  She was still catching her breath as he launched himself out of the car and moved around to the trunk to retrieve her suitcase. Amy’s mind whirred as they headed to the elevator, then rode up it in utter silence to Carlos’ condo.

  He set her suitcase down in the entryway as she closed and locked the door. Then he pulled her to him and took her into a deep kiss. Instantly, Amy was lost. This is what she’d been dreaming about for eight long days.

  Carlos lifted her thighs, and taking the hint, she wrapped them around his waist. He carried her, as if she weighed nothing at all, to the bedroom and laid her down on the massive king size bed.