Page 37 of Conception
I turn to Amelia. “Back to the house?”
“Is it so terrible that I want to get you alone?”
“All you have to do is ask.”
There’s a chorus of goodbyes, catcalls, and whooping as we walk away from the crowd—including my own brother’s interjection that he’ll be fine for the night and doesn’t expect me home. Once we’re out of earshot, Amelia surprises me by tugging me in the directionnottowards the house.
“Where are we going?” I ask her, grateful for the near full moon that allows me to see her face entirely.
“I thought maybe we’d savor the slight chill in the air before heading back to the house. A moonlight stroll? That okay with you?”
Though I’m already primed and ready to move things along between us, I don’t mind holding her hand for a little while longer. “Fine by me.”
We walk in silence, enjoying the sounds of the water softly hitting the shore, the crickets singing their midnight lullaby, and the rustles of the breeze on the trees that cocoon the lake. Laughter rings out in the distance.
“You have an awesome group of friends,” I tell her.
Soft cheeks plump up with her smile. “I really do,” she says with a sigh.
Amelia tugs at my hand and leads me towards an errant log on its side in the sand. She sits down in the sand, her back against the log. Our hands separate as I drop down next to her. Just as I go to take hers into mine again, she uses it to toy with her bottom lip. I can’t tell if she’s nervous, pensive, or what. So I just rest my arm around her shoulders on the back of the log, not pulling her in, letting her have her space.
Amelia stares out into the dark waters. “I used to spend every single summer here. I can’t believe it’s been four years since I’ve been back.”
While I’ve heard mention of the accident, she has yet to talk to me about her parents. No one’s actually come out and said it, but I’ve deduced they’re no longer with us. And if she’s not ready to talk about, there’s no reason for me to push. That’s not what we are to each other. That’s not why we’re here. Yet…for whatever reason, I want to know. So, even though part of my brain is screaming for me to let it go, I don’t.
“Why is that, Amelia? Why’d you stay away?”
Her head turns from the lake to me so swiftly that I nearly falter at the expression on her face. Wide, wistful eyes gaze up at mine, and for the first time this summer, there’s a sadness in them. I hate myself for having asked the question. The moment is so brief that I’m hit with whiplash when she straddles me and rests her palms on my cheeks.
Warm lips descend to take mine in a feverish kiss. I wrap my arms around her, my hands sliding beneath her shirt to feel soft, bare skin.
I know what Amelia’s doing. Whatever brought the pain to her eyes, she wants to erase it. Whatever’s haunting her from four summers ago, she wants to bury it. And she’s using me to do it.
Do I mind?
Not one fucking bit. So I let her. To a point.
Once her hips rock twice, pushing her sweet, tragically covered pussy along the length of my hard cock, I withdraw my tongue from her mouth, nearly chuckling at the sound of her whimper. My hands lock in firmly around both sides of her waist. Then I use my strength to push off the sand, her legs encircling my abdomen as I stand.
“God, you’re strong,” she whispers, her eyes glossy.
This time, I do chuckle. “Come on, babe. Let’s get you home.”
The moonlight illuminates the pout on her face, and I know what’s she’s thinking. Her disappointment is evident when she glides down my body, moves away from me, and wraps one hand around her arm as if she’s cold. I could pull her close to me, drape an arm around her, try to warm her up. I don’t. Instead, I just fall into step beside her. We walk towards her house in deafening silence.
I can practically feel the wheels turning in her head, see the steam rising from her ears. I don’t know what it is about her, but I love getting a rise out of her. It makes me wonder if she’s just as demonstrative in the bedroom.
A guy can only hope.
She’s a few steps ahead of me, already inserting the key into her lock and pushing the door open when I reach the bottom of the steps. I’m about to follow Amelia up the stairs to her porch when she tosses her purse inside then whirls around to face me. She places her hands on her hips and sets her chin, half glaring at me. Her expression stops me in my tracks, cock rendered half-erect just from her glower. My hands grip the bottom of the rails in an effort to keep hold of my patience. Because from the looks of her, she’s about to let me have it. Whateveritis.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you. And I don’t want to seem like some sex-crazed fiend or anything, but Knox, you’re driving me absolutely insane.” She tips her head back and rakes both hands down her face.
It’s adorable, though I’m pretty sure that’s not what she’s going for.
A slow grin spreads across my face. I can only imagine how this moment looks from the outside. Amelia’s standing at the top of the steps, her hip jutted out, annoyance etched across her features, while I’m at the bottom, gazing up at her, my fingers clenched tightly around the iron railings. It’s gotta be apparent that I’m barely holding on to my control with the way my forearms flex with my tightening grip around the iron. Amelia, however, doesn’t notice. I’m about to tell her take a good look and tell me what she sees if she truly looks at me, but she’s too impatient with my momentary silence.
“I’m not a virgin if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not an innocent.” She points her finger down at me. “You told me to tell you if you’re going too fast. Christ Almighty, if this is what you consider fast, I’d hate to see how you do slow!”
