by Sonya Jesus
I take a seat on the fluffy carpet and look at the shoes stacked against the wall in a perfect line. I take one of them and smell it. Even her feet smell clean. I turn it over and notice they are barely scuffed at the bottom before placing them back in the same place. It surprises me there isn’t an ounce of dust in here, but I have never actually watched Amelia clean. I pick up Amelia’s sneakers and check the bottom, noticing they were marked, but no debris was trapped in the folds. I rotate towards Mel’s side, checking the soles of her shoes. Interesting, neither of them had any debris. They must vacuum the soles before putting them away.
I look around the closet and spot the mini vacuum on the upper shelf along with some miscellaneous items. I don’t know why Amelia’s cleanliness turns me on, but it does. Out of curiosity, I push her hamper over towards me and open the lid. The smell of sweet vanilla sugar cookies invades my nostrils. I riffle through the items, noticing that most of her dirty clothes appear washed and that she has very little laundry. A couple of days’ worth at most. I spot a pair of her panties and inspect them; no stains or tears or sign of being stretched. Checking a ladies panties is a good way of keeping track of her health, I learned that in a Female Anatomy & Psychology class I took a few years ago. Pity, they no longer offer it since the board decided it was biased to have a Female and not Male version. I bet a lot of the meatheads could learn a thing or two from it.
I place the panties back in and arrange the clothes in a similar fashion, then slide the hamper back in place. A piece of white folded paper catches my attention; I must have pushed it out from underneath the dresser when I moved the hamper. I pick it up and unfold the paper. It was a receipt for liquid tobacco. I notice the time stamp on it, and realize it couldn’t have been Amelia since she was at cheer practice. It must be Connor’s. I crumple the paper and stuff it into my pocket, not wanting anything of his to taint my Queen’s chambers.
After making sure I put everything where I found it, I run my hands through her fluffy carpet. I imagine this is what her hair feels like, silky and smooth. Even though she isn’t here, I can’t help but feel slightly aroused while being surrounded by her things: her smell, her clothes, her presence. Walking into a woman’s closet is like walking into her more intimate places. It gives insight on her personality, her lifestyle, everything. I read something once in my mother’s Marie Claire, and I have since mused over its verity. Now, as I sit here, analyzing my Queen’s closet, I see that perhaps Marie Claire was right.
Amelia doesn’t let go of clothing, I think to myself as I admire two boxes on the floor that say “retired.” I open them and see shirts that I haven’t seen her wear in years. Others I have never seen on her, but I recognize from pictures on her Facebook page. High school pictures mostly. The article said that the type of girl who keeps old clothes has a hard time letting go of her past. No truer words.
She also has a range of vibrant colors and plenty neutrals. I smile. She wants to be seen. I recall something along the lines that monotone/neutral closets mean they want to blend. I guess having a range of vibrant colors mean’s the opposite. It would make sense that she’s a mixture of both.
What about her underwear? Are they neutral or vibrant? Most of the ones I’ve seen are subdued, in soft neutrals or pastels. I have a thing for a particular pair of white lace polka dots boy shorts she owns. I have a picture of her in that underwear, hanging up at my place.
I get up quickly and open the first drawer and locate them. I bring them up to my nose and smell them. They smell like lavender. I knew they would since she uses a specific lavender essential oil softener Victoria Chase sends her every month. I massage the soft fabric between my thumb and forefinger.
I’m keeping these.
I sit back down and imagine her dancing around in them, quivering at the image. I reach down to unbuckle my pants and lay back on the carpet. The excitement of being here, being surrounded by her, is intoxicating. I pull out her King and touch him until he explodes in pleasure, then I use my new treasure to wipe myself. I stick them in my pocket and flatten my back against the carpet.
Shit. An alarm goes off, jerking me up and I flip the phone over so that the light is hidden by the carpet. I drag it and myself and hide behind the longer gowns on Mel’s side, squeezing behind the voluminous, scratchy tulle material, and listen for any noise from the outside.
The alarm is silenced, and then I hear the bed creak. An exhilarating rush flows through my body. Just the thought of getting to watch Amelia dress in person nearly has me needing to stroke myself again. I should have chosen a less prickly hideaway, but I don’t think it will take away from the experience. How exciting it would be to cum in her presence, even if she isn’t aware of me. Essentially, the voyeur aspect kindles my arousal even more.
The door to the closet opens a bit, and I prepare myself for the most erotic experience I have ever had with Amelia. But then, light comes in from the half-open closet door, and the bedroom door closes. At first, I’m disappointed. That is until I realize what I am risking if I get caught in here, so my body relaxes a little.
Taking the opportunity to vacate the premises while Amelia uses the restroom, I step out from my hiding place and rush to the door, stepping out into the living room and sliding back into Harper’s room. Leaning against the door after I shut it, I realize I forgot to set the camera up in Amelia’s room. Not that it matters, because I need to repeat that.
I feel my pocket for the souvenir and smile. That was fantastic. I guess I should take advantage of Harper sleeping to plant the last camera. I know exactly where to put it; the bunk bed on the other end of the room is empty and there’s a zipper on the side of the mattress. I grab Harper’s scissors and walk over to it, unzipping the mattress and poking a hole in the cushion, so it could hold the camera. I close the zipper just enough and step back, making sure it’s inconspicuous. No one is ever going to suspect that. I place the scissors back in the cup holder and get back into bed with Harper.
I wake up in an exceptionally good mood, despite waking up next to the wrong girl. Not only did Lia sleep alone last night, but I spied some of the chocolates in the trash, confirming their fight. I glance over at the clock.
Crap! I slept in. I poke Harper, who is still out like a light. She moans and latches onto me. She’s a clingy sleeper. “Harper, I really need to get going.”
She pouts and mumbles, “But it’s early.”
I roll my eyes, “I know. I wish I could stay longer, but I have meetings to get to.” I grab her hand, remove it from my chest and tuck it by her side. I remove her leg from the top of mine and sit up. Figuring out the situation between Connor and Amelia is my first priority today because I let him live last night. I hope I don’t come to regret it.
Harper pries an eye open. She’s still topless, her nipples exposed, so I push the cover over her. I don’t want her to soil my mood by having to vulgarly touch her again. “I really do have to go, pretty girl. But, I’ll call you later.”
I slide out of bed and look for my shoes, so she turns onto her stomach, curls her arms under the pillow and rests her head to watch me search for my belongings. “Will you come back later?” She’s admiring me; not many guys refuse a blowjob. I need her to think I am more than a pretty face. However, she did wind me up. That’s probably why I risked it last night. I pat my pants, feeling for the underwear.
Harper thinks I am smiling at her. Stupid girl. “I can’t sweetie. Can we hang out tomorrow night? I’m on duty.”
“Well, I wouldn’t tell anyone.” She’s bargaining with me. Not very well, though, because she has nothing I want. I shake my head no, and she pouts her bottom lip out at me until it curls and shows the inside of her lip. That’s not attractive pouting. I wonder if she thinks it is? I finish putting my undershirt on, then my outer shirt, phone and keys.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I smile and head towards the door. She sits up, probably getting ready to follow. Since I really don’t want that awkward kiss at the
door, I tell her, “Stay in bed. You look entirely too comfortable and way too sexy to walk me out. It’s hard being a gentleman when you look so good naked.”
She’s pleased with my response. On my way out, I think about getting myself a fake swipe card that will allow me to get in and out without registering my name, just in case.
I head up the deserted Walk of Pride and duck into the bushes under Connor’s window. I lift my head up and see someone asleep on Connor’s bed. Then the door opens, and Austin comes in, telling Connor to wake the hell up. Connor complies, and I tuck my head to the side so I won’t be seen. I wish I had installed some cameras by now. “What is it Austin?”
“Tell me why the hell I just spent forty-five fucking minutes of my life consoling the girl you just banged?”
Absolutely fucking perfect. I smile from ear to ear, resisting the urge to hum my father’s song; something I only do when I’m content and pleased. My day just keeps getting better.
Connor steps out of my line of view, so I focus on Austin. He goes over to the fridge and pulls out a beer. That’s an interesting breakfast. “What the hell did you say to her?”
“I told her that it was a mistake,” he grumbles, sounding like he’s hung over.
“Sticking your dick in her was a mistake? That’s hard to believe. You had plenty of time to think things through, especially since you ate her out first.”
“She told you that?” Connor’s voice is low but angry.
Austin growls. “Yes, she fucking told me everything. She even told me how she put your damn condom on. Now get over the fact that I know everything and tell me what the hell happened, because just a few hours ago you were telling a pretty redhead that you loved her while you serenaded her on stage.” He pauses. “Did that pretty redhead dump you?”
“It’s so much worse than that.” Connor groans. Where was he? Why couldn’t I see him from here? “She wants to take things slow.”
“Slow?” Austin’s confused.
Typical assholes! Slow is not a word they are accustomed to.
He points the beer bottle at Connor, then the bed, then Connor again. “So, you and she haven’t?” I assume Connor shakes his head because Austin starts laughing. “Now it makes sense.”
“What makes sense?”
“Jaime.” A silent understanding occurs that I don’t exactly understand, but Austin drinks his beer and tells Connor to suck it up. “Well, you’re in a shit place right now buddy.”
“Thanks for the concern.” Connor’s sarcasm causes Austin to chuckle. “What are you going to do about your girl? By your girl, I mean Lia.”
“What do you think I’m going to do?” It comes out in a snarl. “I just screwed one of the two girls who manages to annoy the hell out of her. I’m pretty sure asking her forgiveness on this is out of the question. I’m screwed.”
Austin chuckles. “Why are you worried? Just don’t tell her! If Jaime tells her, just deny it. You were drunk,” he points to the far corner of the room. “You drink that all on your own?” I didn’t have a visual, but I assume empty alcohol bottles are scattered everywhere. “You better get rid of that before you get caught. Where did you get all that from anyway?”
“Jaime brought it over. I have to tell Lia, Austin. I feel guilty as shit right now. She didn’t deserve that.”
“Okay, so now that I know why you slept with her. Tell me why Jaime’s roommate had to answer her SOS.”
Connor grunts. “I woke up, she was sprawled on top of me, smelling like Lia. I realize she’s in bed with me, in my room and I tell her to get the hell out before Lia shows up.”
“That’s it?” Austin doubts him. “She made it sound like you insulted her and treated her like trash.”
“Because I did, Austin. She told me she loved me again and that she can do things for me that Lia can’t. I just flipped out on her. I kicked her out. She wasn’t even fully dressed yet.”
“She knew about Lia. Did she expect you to leave your girl for her? Well… if she’s still your girl after today.” Austin smiles, puts his finished beer bottle under his bed and gets under the covers. Connor finally makes it into my line of sight.
My phone rings. Shit. I swiftly snatch the camera, dive into the bushes and lay on the ground. I can hear them at the window. “What the hell was that? It sounded like it was coming from right here.”
I duck into the bushes as Connor pokes his head out to look around. Finding nothing, he closes the window.
I wait until the coast is clear and crawl out into the parking lot. Then I walk the long way around to get to the Breaker for some coffee. That was close, but worth it. Connor is going to come clean.
This is why I prefer to wait things out. Killing should always be my last resort. I have to remind myself of that every once in a while.
Just in case Connor and Lia didn’t break up, which I doubt is the case, I still have the Mad Libs auction.
Chapter 8: Thirty-Six
Lia
I spend the rest of the morning talking to Robins. At around 11 a.m., I let Robins get some sleep, telling him I need to go before my suitemates send out a search party. I also mentioned my little freak out last night, and how, after all the weird calls and freaky things this prankster has done, he now has me thinking someone’s following me. I think it’s funny, but apparently, Robins doesn’t. He goes on and on about figuring out who it is and bashing the assholes head against the wall if he ever hurt me. Afterwards, he spends five groggy minutes insisting on driving me back, only giving up when I start to make a fuss, claiming it was just a stray cat or something.
Once he finally lets me go, I cross a couple of streets over to the Diner, order some coffee and a breakfast sandwich to go, then make my way back to the room. Everyone is still sleeping, taking full advantage of the morning off. Today commences Medieval Week preparations. Committees are being organized, tasks distributed, and funds discussed, while all those not involved in the planning expect to sleep in.
I reach my bedroom door, putting my foot between the frame and the door and guiding it open. I could have sworn I closed the door when I left, but Mel must have been back tonight and left it open. I haven’t seen her much these last couple weeks; she’s been crazy busy. I turn on the light and place my coffee and breakfast on my dresser, before going to my closet and grabbing my towel.
I hear a phone vibrate against something. My phone? It takes a few minutes to remember I didn’t have it with me yesterday. I left it in my misplaced cheer bag… So, it wasn’t mine. I step out into the room and search for Mel. After all that happened last night, I could really use a roomie talk time. She isn’t anywhere to be found, but what is my cheer bag doing on Mel’s bed? I approach it. Maybe one of my suitemates brought it in with them from practice, or someone dropped it off.
The vibrating sound starts again, and I peek into the bag. Why is it open? No screen light is illuminating the inside of the dark bag, so I listen attentively for the vibrations. They are coming from my desk. I run to my phone and answer it, “Hello?”
“You didn’t call me, Pooh Bear.” Robins’ sleepy, seductively low voice captures my undivided attention.
Has he always sounded like that? Or has his voice become some sort of calling card for my Vixen?
“You promised to call when you got in.” I can’t deal with how sultry his voice sounds right now. It’s smoldering my ability to think straight. All the images of his Tigger pop into my head, leaving me breathless. “You there?”
I clear my throat as if it could simultaneously clear my head. “I’m here. Are you still in bed?” I shut my eyes when I realize what I am doing. I’m coaxing him to keep talking, which is only feeding the Vixen, so I don’t wait for the answer. “You sound like you’re still in bed. I should let you go get some sleep. I’m good. Going to grab a shower and then get some work done.”
“I really want to ask if you want company.”
He can’t say those things to me when he sounds like that.
I giggle nervously in response. My Angel orders me to snap out of it. “Thanks for the offer Robins, but I can manage the whole lather, rinse, repeat thing on my own.” I sit on my bed and make myself comfortable. The sheets were still rumpled from the commotion yesterday, the teddy bear Connor gave me somehow underneath my pillow. Did he leave this here to remind me of him?
A tinge of guilt flows through me. If I was still in a relationship with Connor, I overstepped. I’d be angry if he and Jaime did what Robins and I did last night. Which means I’m a hypocrite; a hypocrite and an asshole. Not only did I just cross a boundary with my cheer captain’s boyfriend, I liked it.
No, I effing loved it.
There was nothing accidental about what happened last night. So, now what?
Robins interrupts my moral dilemma. “Nah, you need company in case you fall and break a hip.”
I snort. “I’m not 80.” I pause, pushing my future to the back of my mind, grabbing the stupid vampire teddy bear and thinking only of the present. “Plus, I don’t know what Meg and Connor would think if that happened.”
“Who cares? I’m just happy that you and I are good again. Waking up to you twice in one night felt so damn good that I’m addicted to the feeling.”
I couldn’t help myself. I needed to know, to make sure I wasn’t making something out of nothing. “What feeling?”
“All the right ones, Lia.” Shivers run over my skin. I put my palm up to my forehead, suddenly feeling very warm… everywhere. “All I know is that I can still smell your perfume on my pillow, and with everyone else it makes me uncomfortable. I usually spray it down with Armani, but with you, it’s different.”
