“Nope—definitely not crazy. Keep me in the loop, okay? Let me know what happens with that nutcase Sara, too.”
“I will. Thanks again and Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Ciao, bella dama.”
“Ciao,” I said, chuckling. Talking to her made me feel about a thousand times better.
I took a couple of long, deep breaths to calm down. The last thing I wanted to do was to cause a scene, and we still had a couple of hours to get through with her family. I looked in the mirror and smoothed my hair before rejoining the rest of the party. Amelia was back inside, one of her nieces in her lap, and she smiled when she saw me. She didn’t look the least bit guilty about anything, and once again I began to doubt my suspicions.
Amelia, her family, and I spent the evening chatting over wine and pumpkin pie, and by the time we decided to leave, I couldn’t imagine ever eating again.
Before we left, Bobby thanked me again, hugging me close to him. “Thank you again for letting me eat today.” He kissed my cheek.
I laughed. “No problem. When I was a kid I had to watch my little cousins, and I know when someone needs a break.”
“What did you think of the food?” he asked. “I know it was different from your usual holiday fare.”
“It was wonderful. I didn’t know if I would like the stuffing, but it was incredible.”
He looked relieved. “Cornbread and sausage make the world go round. Anyway, thanks so much for coming. Amelia explained that you haven’t been home for the holidays for a long time, so I understand it was a sacrifice for you to be here today.”
“Not a sacrifice at all. Not when the food was so delicious and the company so lovely.”
Amelia laughed. “You’re going to give him a big head if you keep talking that way, Chloé. Let’s get out of here or he’ll make you say more nice things about him.”
Despite the chill, I enjoyed our brief walk back to Amelia’s house. We were quiet, both of us reflecting on the day, but for perhaps the first time since I knew her, the silence was comfortable and companionable. We were joined at the elbow, and she steered me deftly over several bulges in the sidewalk I’d likely have tripped on in the dark. When we got back to her place, I retrieved my overnight bag from the car and followed her inside to the dark house. She’d once again given her servants the night off, and her place seemed strangely hollow and cold without anyone in it.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, pulling me into her arms.
“Full. Very full,” I said, and she laughed.
“Well, we’ll have to burn off some of those calories, then, won’t we?”
Despite all of my lofty goals about making her come clean, her words gave me a strong jolt of excitement. I’d wanted to talk to her about the phone calls and the deception I’d sensed earlier today, but that suddenly didn’t seem as important as it had. I’ll do just about anything to avoid confrontation, and I let her lead me upstairs to her bedroom. We paused in the doorway, looking in at the scene she’d clearly prepared ahead of time. Rose petals lay scattered on the bedspread, and unlit candles were set out around the room. She let go of my hand, walking around quickly to light the candles with matches.
I stayed there in the doorway, watching her light them, then turned off the overhead light when she’d finished. She turned and looked back at me from the foot of the bed, and I started to undress. I slid my shoes off one at a time, moving them delicately together. My dress had a side zipper, which I undid one tooth at a time, gradually, evenly. Even from a few feet away, I could see her eyes darken at the sight of me, and her body tensed in anticipation. She took a step closer, and I held up a hand, wanting her to wait and watch. I grinned at the frustration on her face and slowed my pace even further until she backed away again. I slid the dress off my shoulders and let it fall to the ground, stepping out of it, then rolled down my stockings. Finally, I unhooked my bra and pulled it off my arms inch by inch. I kept my underwear on for several long moments before I slid them down, very, very slowly. When I stood up, completely revealed to her, her face looked hungry, anticipatory.
I pointed. “Get on the bed.”
Without hesitation, she turned and climbed up on the bed, completely clothed, shoes still on. I walked over to the foot of the bed and looked down at her, wanting to eat her up with my eyes. I reached down and pulled off her shoes one at a time. Her eyes widened a little when I reached up under the hem of her dress to pull off her stockings, but she didn’t stop me. Emboldened, I climbed up on the bed on top of her, finding the zipper of her dress and helping her out of it. While I’d seen her nearly naked a couple of times now, this was almost as close as I’d gotten to undressing her completely, and I wondered how much further I could take this. She tensed when I lifted her up a little and found the clasp to her bra, but she let me unhook it and pull it away from her body.
Her breasts were a revelation. As I had never seen them completely bare before this, I paused for a long time, just gazing down at them. Her nipples were darker and wider than mine, and they were hard. I looked up at her face to see her staring at me with a marked concern and anxiety.
“They’re beautiful,” I said softly.
She appeared uncertain, and I leaned down to kiss her lips. Our breasts brushed together, and I felt her body respond to the contact as she heaved upward a little, clasping me to her. We kissed for a long time, and I kept up the contact as long as I could, relishing the feel of her nearly naked under me. The softness of her breasts against mine was intoxicating.
When I broke away and held myself up above her, her eyes were dark and serious. I could sense her nervousness and didn’t want to force her to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with. Accepting her naked breasts as the day’s accomplishment, I rolled onto my back, pulling her with me and on top. The uncertainty left her eyes, and she bent down, kissing and nibbling at my breasts seconds later. I sighed happily and arched up into her mouth, grasping the back of her head as she sucked hard on one of my nipples, which was still sore from recent encounters.
Too excited to pause to tie me up, Amelia wrenched my hands above my head with one of hers.
“Keep your hands right there,” she warned me.
I left my hands where she’d placed them. She started kissing her way down my body, and almost by their own accord, my hands almost immediately moved downward, touching her hair. She stopped and propped herself up again.
“If you don’t listen to me, I’ll stop right here,” she said.
Frowning at her, I moved my hands above my head again and grabbed the headboard, hoping that would help me keep them in place. As her lips moved farther and farther south, though, I could feel my hands struggling to stay where they were supposed to be, and my arms trembled lightly with tension from trying to keep my hands where she wanted them.
When her lips brushed the area just above my pubic hair, my hands betrayed me again and leapt down, clutching at her head. She sat up completely this time and moved away, looking at me coolly.
“What did I tell you?” she asked me.
“To keep my hands up here,” I said quietly, moving them back into place.
“But you didn’t listen.” Her face was a mask of coldness, and it was hard to tell whether she meant what she was saying or how serious she was.
I swallowed. “I’ll try harder. I promise.”
She moved back toward me, sliding between my legs. My hands clutched at the headboard, and I dug my fingers hard into the metal, gripping with all my might. It was hard to separate the need to keep my hands in place and the sensation of her lips on my lower abdomen. Amelia’s fingers were tracing up and down the inside of my thighs, and I let out a low moan when one of them flickered across the folds between my legs before moving back to my thigh. Amelia’s kisses moved farther down, but this time she skipped over the parts I desperately wanted her to touch, kissing up and down my legs, pausing on my inner thighs here and there, nibbling and sucking. My hands clenched down, hard, but my hi
ps rose to meet her mouth. I heard her chuckle, low, and wondered in a desire-soaked daze if she were trying to punish me by making me wait so long.
Finally, after she looked up at me once to meet my eyes, her mouth dove into my center. After the long anticipation, the pleasure was intense, overwhelming. I threw my head back and moved my body into her mouth. She pushed me back with her hands, moving me into position. She lingered on the outer lips for a moment before plunging in, deeper, making me almost shout in pleasure. Though I couldn’t move my hands, my legs were free, and I wrapped them around her back, pulling her into me. She slipped her tongue over my clit and I felt a jolt at the contact. Two of her fingers glided inside me, deeper and deeper until she found the spot she knew my body craved. Between the anticipation and the precision of her technique, I couldn’t hold on for very long. The orgasm made me forget everything, anything, the world going white and bright behind my eyelids as I screamed.
Afterward, she lay in my arms, still clad in only her panties, and I stroked her hair. Though she hadn’t let me touch her any more than usual, getting her this naked was definitely progress. Some of the anxiety that had been building up with my frustration with her finally began to ease a little. Progress was progress, no matter how slow.
Suddenly, after all these weeks, it seemed as if things might be okay after all.
Chapter Twenty-five
Late the next morning, after a wonderful breakfast of custom-made omelets prepared by her chef, Amelia insisted on driving me home in my new car. I was still on the fence about accepting the car as a gift, but I’d decided that if I thought of it as a company car, the weirdness would be a little easier to accept. If I quit my job, or if Amelia and I broke up, I would simply leave the car at the warehouse and let her sort out the details of swapping the title. While our relationship was stronger than ever, particularly after spending the last couple of days entirely together, and the progress we’d made last night, it still seemed entirely too early in our relationship to accept something so expensive. Given that I’d rarely received flowers from past boyfriends, the idea of taking a car ever was very strange. That said, I needed one to get to work and for work itself. I was tired of relying on being driven around by Amelia and her driver.
“We should have taken separate cars,” I told her. “You know I was planning on painting today, and we agreed that I could have a night for it a week. It’s not a lot to ask.”
“You’ll have your night off. I just wanted to see you home—that’s all.”
She was acting a little strange, but I didn’t think much of it until she made an unexpected turn onto Esplanade.
“This isn’t how you get to my house,” I said.
“I’m going the long way.”
“More like taking a detour,” I commented, but stopped myself from saying more. I hate backseat drivers.
A couple of minutes later, we pulled into a driveway by her father’s rental. There were two parking spaces here—one for the other apartment and the one we’d just parked in.
“What are we doing here?”
“I’ll show you.” Her eyes alive with merriment, she got out of the car and left me there.
I climbed out my side after her. “Amelia!” I called after her, shutting the car door.
She turned and motioned for me to come nearer. “You’ll love this. Just come with me.”
She took my hand and led me around the side of the house to the front steps. A paper sign hanging on the door said Welcome Home! and a couple of blue balloons were tied to the doorknob. I paused and she turned back to me, looking elated.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“You’ll see.” She pulled me forward.
Amelia opened the door and stepped aside so I could enter first. I held my breath and walked in, and Aunt Kate, Jim, Meghan, and Zach all jumped up from behind furniture.
“Surprise!” they shouted. Amelia followed me in and shut the door behind us.
I was too stunned to say anything. All of my furniture had been moved into the apartment. My armchair, my bookshelves, and a nice, new loveseat had been placed in here, almost exactly as I’d imagined it. A new painting hung above the loveseat, and the other pictures consisted of framed artwork and photographs from my walls at home. I slowly spun around, taking in the whole room. Everyone was smiling, looking incredibly pleased with themselves.
“What is this?” I asked.
“It’s your new place.” Amelia held up some keys.
“But—but—”
Amelia grabbed my hands and pulled me over to the couch. We sat next to each other while the others stood there, watching.
“I talked with my father and told him how much you loved the apartment. Since he owns the rental agency he uses for his apartments, he agreed to rent it directly to you without going through the agency. He took it off the list a couple of days ago so he could avoid the rental agency’s fees. I asked Meghan about it once he told me he could, and she said the new price was exactly what you were willing to pay.”
I looked up at Meghan. “You were in on this?”
She smiled and then indicated the others. “We all were.”
“We worked like fiends after you two left yesterday to get it ready for you,” Aunt Kate said, wiping her brow dramatically.
“You all did this?” I looked at each of them. They nodded. “Together?”
Aunt Kate laughed. “When your Amelia told me about the plan, I was thrilled. I knew you were disappointed about not getting this place. Jim and I wanted to help, so I called Meghan and Zach here to help us move your stuff.”
My eyes were welling with tears, and Amelia pulled me into an embrace. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Is this who you were talking with on the phone yesterday?” I asked, pulling back a little.
“Yes. I also had to talk with some movers from work, so it wasn’t completely a lie—I did call work. It was really hard not to give it away.”
I laughed. “You’re a terrible liar, by the way. I knew you were hiding something.”
She shrugged, looking incredibly pleased with herself.
Aunt Kate was wiping her eyes.
“Thank you,” I told her. “Thanks all of you.” I looked around at all of them. “It’s the nicest surprise I’ve ever had.”
Meghan’s eyes looked a little red as well, but she laughed. “Go look around, you ninny! We’ve been working our butts off.”
I laughed and stood up, walking into the kitchen. A breakfast table had been set up in here, and I saw on the shelves a combination of some of my old kitchenware mixed in with some new. A new mixer stood on the counter, as well as a couple of other small appliances. Out the back door, I could see a larger table set up on my small patio, and a big garden box that looked freshly tilled. I glanced in the powder room as I walked back into the living room, and Amelia was standing by the stairs.
“Can I show you?” she asked, indicating the stairs.
“Yes.” I was still fighting tears.
We climbed the narrow, steep flight, and she insisted on showing me the bedroom in the back first. It was small, but functional, with a new queen-sized bed and a couple of tiny night stands. A new, huge wardrobe stood near the wall by the door, which, considering the lack of a closet back here, was precisely what the room needed. The main bathroom had been done up with several shades of dark-purple linen, which harmonized nicely with the gray walls.
Apparently saving the best for last, Amelia paused in front of the final closed door. “This was the hardest room for them to move and set up. I had some people from the warehouse help move the artwork, and they kept all the covered paintings hidden. I haven’t seen anything yet.” She paused, meeting my eyes. “I know you wanted to show me your work on your own time, so I won’t come in with you if you don’t want me to.”
I smiled widely and pulled her into my arms. “Please come in with me,” I whispered. “You’ve earned it.”
Her face lit up with joy, and I open
ed the door for us.
My new studio was perfect. The easel had been set up in precisely the spot I’d imagined it. A new shelving system had been installed along the far wall for my materials, which, I noticed immediately, had been added to, liberally. I saw extra canvases and framing materials I knew I hadn’t owned before, and it looked like my paintbrush and paint set had grown twofold. My newest painting was sitting on my easel, still covered with a drop cloth, waiting for me to return to it. Also, my paint palette lay on a small table next to the easel. The sun streamed in through the large, nearly floor-to-ceiling window, and I could tell that the light in here would be fantastic for painting.
Amelia walked in and immediately started examining my older paintings, several of which had been hung on the walls already, just as they’d been in my studio at Aunt Kate’s house. A selection of even older paintings were propped against another wall, again, just as they had been in my old studio. I watched her for a long while as she gazed at the work on display, holding my breath. After she’d seen the last one, she turned to me, her expression bright.
“They’re wonderful.”
“Really?”
She looked gravely serious and met my eyes. “You’re incredibly gifted. Even the older ones are charming.”
I relaxed finally, breathing out a long breath. “You’re just saying that.”
Her face became stern. “Not at all, Chloé. Your work is marvelous. I’m not saying anything to flatter you. I like it a lot.”
I shrugged, not quite believing her, but the compliment pleased me. I’d been terrified to have her see my work. Now that the ordeal was over, I wouldn’t have to worry about it again.
“So do you like it?” She gestured at the room.
My eyes flooded with tears again, and I rushed over, pulling her into an embrace. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
She rubbed my back for a while, shushing me, and then, almost simultaneously, we realized we were being watched. All four of the others stood in the doorway, watching us with identical, pleased expressions. They walked in, and I gave each one a hug, temporarily unable to speak.
A Palette for Love Page 24
