SHE’S TOYING WITH ME.
There’s a wicked gleam in her eyes as she rolls her hips against mine teasingly, fingers digging into my shoulders to steady herself. Bare thighs settled on either side of mine, she lifts herself up slowly, achingly fucking slowly, hovering above my tip momentarily before slamming herself down so every inch of me is buried inside of her.
Her name spills from my lips in a half-groan, half-plea, one of my hands coasting up her naked back to grip her by the nape of the neck. She grins lazily at me, her own hands slipping from my shoulders and wrapping around my waist, pulling me close until our bare chests are smashed together, hearts thumping in tandem.
Amelia likes it like this. Being on top, being in control, fucking herself slowly on my cock. I have zero fucking complaints. How could I, when I have this beautiful fucking girl writhing on top of me?
My beautiful fucking girl.
Her naked body is a fucking sight to see, skin all smooth and glistening, breasts full and fucking begging for attention. Cheeks flushed, lips swollen and parted slightly, hair floating wildly around her like a fucking halo. Eyes, green and bright, wide open and trained on me, occasionally flicking down to watch where we join. “So fucking perfect.”
Her breathing quickens as her pace does, grinding faster and faster, no longer moving languidly against me. My hands find their way to her hips, dwarfing her small frame, helping keep a rhythm as I flex my hips to meet her movements.
Nothing in the entire fucking world will ever come close to feeling as good as this. No barrier between us, I can feel all of her, every damn thing, and I can’t get enough. There’s something so fucking satisfying about knowing I’m the only one to ever have her like this. That I get to be one of her firsts, and her one of mine.
Three days of being here, splitting our time between sightseeing and holing ourselves up in our room earning noise complaints and I still can’t get enough of her. She’s fucking addictive.
Her movements become frantic, hips bucking wildly, nails tearing a path down my back. ‘That’s my girl,’ I coo in her ear as she clenches around me, her whimpers of pleasure spurring me to thrust harder. ‘Come for me, querida.’
With a loud cry, she shatters in my arms. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as she spasms on top of me, my grip on her the only thing keeping her erratic movements steady. Her breathy moans tickle my cheek as her forehead falls against mine, eyes hooded with lust blinking wearily.
I’m not far behind her, those fucking eyes boring into mine enough to have me emptying into her with a groan.
Panting and spent, I collapse backwards on the bed, dragging Amelia with me, her sweaty, limp body clinging to mine. She curls up on top of me, dainty fingers trailing up my chest to trace the tattoos inked there. Tilting my head to get a better look at her, I brush her tangled curls away from her face, letting my fingertips linger on her freckled cheeks.
‘Well, good fucking morning to you too.’
My shy girl returns in the blink of an eye. The little vixen who was just bouncing on my cock with reckless abandon disappears as Amelia rolls away with a sheepish squeak. Standing on shaky legs, she wobbles to the bathroom, grumbling something I’m sure is insulting beneath her breath. I’m so busy leering at her bare ass, one cheek stained with my handprint, that when a phone rings, I don’t check who’s it is before answering.
Rookie mistake.
I realize my error a second too late when my rasped greeting is met by a triumphant screech. “I fucking knew it!”
Cringing away from the assault to my eardrums, I squint at the caller ID, swearing softly at the worst possible name. “Kate!” Luna shrieks again. “I told you she wasn’t at her dad’s house!”
Faint rustling and definite snickering is accompanied by a barely audible ‘no shit, Sherlock,’ before a third voice joins the conversation. “You guys suck at subtlety,” Kate states wryly, distinctly smug.
“So we’ve been told,” I respond dryly. “Is there a reason you’re calling?”
Both women clear their throats, and I tense when I imagine them swapping those glances that make it seem like they can read each other’s minds. “Sorry, lovebirds.” It’s Kate who speaks, tone smooth and serious. “Cass’ getting antsy. Figured we’d warn you because the boy is one missed call away from tracking Amelia down.”
Raking a hand down my face, I wonder how the fuck my morning went from perfect sex with my girlfriend to stressing about her brother. “Does he…”
“Suspect you whisked his sister away on a romantic vacation?” Kate finishes for me. “Nah, don’t worry. Your secret’s safe. Ben asked where you were and Cass told him you were probably on some sex bender.” Technically, he’s not far off. “You’re lucky I’m the only one with a brain around here,” Kate teases, and I’m inclined to agree.
Indignant shouts erupt in the background and Kate scoffs, shouting a snarky reply to Luna’s protest. “Oh, please. It took you forty-eight hours to even notice she was gone.”
She mutters something else under her breath that I try very fucking hard to pretend I didn’t hear. Something about being too busy doing things to Jackson that I definitely do not want to fucking know about.
“Thanks for the heads up,” I steer the subject away from anything involving my friend and his dick. “We were planning on leaving today anyway.” The ‘family emergency’ I used as an excuse to clear us from work and class can only last so long.
“Good,” Kate grunts. I’m about to hang up, figuring that’s the conversation done, when a question whispers through the phone. “Hey, Nick?”
Anticipating what she’s about to say, I reassure her, “She’s okay, Kate. I promise.” Or at least, she’s getting there. Smiling real smiles and laughing real laughs, happy, normal things that shouldn’t send my heart thumping a mile a minute but they do.
“That’s not what I was going to ask, dumbass,” Kate sneers, her eye roll honest-to-God audible. “Don’t interrupt me.”
Rolling my lips together to quell a laugh, I wait as Kate clears her throat, any humorous urges dying where her unsteady voice sounds again, “Thank you.”
“Well, that was fun while it lasted,” Amelia laments with a wistful sigh, casting me a half-hearted smile as we reluctantly scale the stairs of her apartment building.
“Say the word and we can go back,” I say, only half joking. It puts me on edge, being back, as inevitable as our return was. I’m fucking terrified that Amelia is going to revert into that awful shell of a girl she was before we left, drifting like a ghost. Barely speaking, barely eating, barely fucking moving. It physically hurt to see her like that, and I don’t think I could take it happening again. I don’t think either of us could.
A stilted laugh leaving her, Amelia brings our clasped hands to her lips, kissing the back of my mine as she mutters, “I wish.”
The closer we get to her apartment, the slower her steps become. As much as I was dreading coming home, she was tenfold. The whole drive, she was fretting about whether or not the others will still be intent on tiptoeing around her, whether they’ll be mad at her for running away, that latter worry remaining no matter how many times I corrected her; technically, I kidnapped her.
“Hey,” I call softly when we reach her front door, tugging on her hand until she faces me, apprehension darkening her pretty face. “It’ll be okay, querida. Be honest with them. You didn’t like how they were treating you, so tell them.’
Despite her obvious anxiety, Amelia croons wryly, “So old and wise,”
“Brat,” I mutter, kissing the side of her head, waiting for her nod of approval before opening the front door.
I shouldn’t be surprised that a mere step across the threshold is all the girls are willing to wait before whisking Amelia into their arms. “You’re home!” Luna squeals from somewhere within the tangle of three women. They separate, Lu and Kate each gripping one of Amelia’s shoulder, both wearing matching expressions of concern. “We were worried about you.”
Amelia stiffens. Throat bobbing as she takes a deep breath, she adopts a determined expression. “Can I talk to you guys?”
The girls nod, mine casting me a sweet smile, before disappearing down the hall. Only when I hear a door shut do I let myself breathe. And only then do I realize The Tiny Effect has been working full force since I entered the apartment; until now, I didn’t even notice Jackson stretched out on the sofa, smirking at me in a sly way that completely contradicts his quiet nature. With a sigh, I flop down next to him. “Spit it out.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “You really love her.”
I don’t bother denying it. “I do.”
“You tell her?”
“Not yet.”
“What’re you waiting for?”
If I felt like being honest, I would tell him it’s because I’m scared shitless. Scared because I’ve never said it to someone before, not like this. Scared because I’ve never felt it before, not like this. Scared because I’m almost completely positive that the moment I let those three words fly, she’s going to run.
Shrugging, I settle on the easy answer like the coward I am. “Figure I should probably tell Cass I’m dating his sister first.”
“Uh-huh,” a single utterance convinces me that Jackson doesn’t believe a word out of my mouth, and if it didn’t, his next words would, “keep telling yourself that.”
Ignoring the obvious taunt, I turn the conversation back on him. “How’s it going with Lu?”
Five words is all it takes for my friend’s face to light up with what I can only describe as elation. “Couldn’t be better,” he sighs happily. “She met my sisters.”
I whistle, long and low. I knew it was serious between them but shit. Big step. Jackson’s sisters are like royalty to him—I’ve known the guy for years and I can count the times I’ve met those girls on one hand. ‘Did it go okay?’
“Think they love her more than they love me,” Jackson muses, shaking his head with a dopey smile smile. Huffing a laugh, he knocks me with his elbow. “Both got the girl, hey?”
“Yeah.” It’s my turn to smile like a fool. “Guess we did.”
We’re chatting idly about mundane shit when the girls finally reappear.
“She’s all yours, lover boy,” Luna sings as she saunters toward us, smiling stiffly in an obvious effort to draw attention away from glassy blue eyes but there’s no hiding her sniffling as she settles beside Jackson, melting into the man.
Kate’s not far behind, looking as afflicted as her blonde friend as she flops in the armchair tucked in the corner. When I frown inquisitively, she shakes her head and mouths, “don’t worry.”
I don’t realize how wound up I am until Amelia appears and my body goes slack. I shift, making room for her to squeeze onto the sofa, an air of confident determination around her as she curls up beside me. Her expression is unnervingly peaceful, a stark contrast to the tears threatening to fall.
Slinging an arm around her shoulder, I urge her closer, hauling her onto my lap. “You okay?”
Amelia nods, exchanging indecipherable looks with her friends before clearing her throat. “Can you do me a favor?”
I swipe away the warm drops dampening her undereyes. “Anything, meu amor.”
“Will you come with me to file a restraining order?”
The next few hours are a whir of paperwork.
I don’t know what happened to the girl who begged her friends not to breathe a word about what was done to her but she was not present when Amelia stormed into the police station, a rigid, resolute woman on a fucking mission.
My strong girl whipped out proof of every harassing text Dylan sent her, relayed every awful word, produced evidence of his physical abuse, pictures that made my stomach roll. “Kate took them,” she’d whispered to me, eyes on our clasped hands as though she couldn’t bare to look either, “just in case.”
In that moment, I briefly loved Kate more than the girl trying not to tremble beside me.
By the time we’re done, Amelia is red-eyed and exhausted. My brain is spinning, my phone like a lead brick in my pocket, weighed down by the shitload of legal jargon and important information I jotted down.
The prospect of my truck’s silent interior greets us like an oasis, a needed contrast from the bustling, never-ending noise of the station. I open the passenger door and Amelia hops in wearily, crumpling against the worn leather seat. I don’t move yet; instead, I drop my head to her shoulder, kissing the curve of her neck. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
Soft fingers leave a trail of heat as they curl beneath my chin, guiding me up for chaste kiss. “Thank you for coming with me.”
“What changed your mind?” I carefully ask the question that’s been on my mind all day. From the beginning, she was adamant about not reporting him. I’m glad she reconsidered, but I can’t help but wonder why.
“I was explaining everything to the girls,” Amelia starts. “How I wasn’t fine, I just wanted to be. That I was scared not to be. And Kate said something that stuck.” She pauses, smiling wanly, watching her fingers as they tangle in my hair.
“Fear only has the power you give it,” she whispers, “and I don’t wanna give it any more than I already have.”
In lieu of fucking crying like a baby like I suddenly want to do, I joke weakly, “Kate’s been spending too much time on Pinterest.”
Amelia buries a snivelly laugh in my chest. “That’s what Luna said.”
My hands run rampant, caressing her back, her arms, every inch of her I can reach. “I’m proud of you,” I repeat as I kiss her head.
I love you, I add in my head as I reluctantly let her to go and join her inside the car. Twisting the keys in the ignition, the radio hums to life, and I barely register the vaguely recognizable song playing.
Beside me, Amelia suddenly inhales a shuddering breath, and when I glance over she’s gone completely still, her tired but happy demeanor plummeting to something cold. “Amelia?” I reach over to palm her thigh, frowning when she recoils. “What’s wrong?”
Slowly, she turns to me, eyes terrifyingly blank and skin impossibly pale. “My boyfriend died and I forgot.”
