“You made me dinner. You are calling your fancy ass houseourhome.”
“Do you like it?” I ask, nodding towards her plate. She takes a bite and does a full body sigh, practically melting into her seat. “It’s amazing. But for real. You pay me enough, Callum. Shit you pay me way more than enough. You don’t have to–” she stops. “Thank you.”
I smile. That’s all I wanted.
During dinner, we can’t help ourselves. Our knees continue to bump under the table, a game I think we’ve started to play on purpose now. Our hands brush on the table and when we laugh, we hold each other's eyes for a moment longer than necessary. There is a happy hum in the room, even though she has yet to touch her wine. I take the hint that maybe she’s not a heavy drinker. That maybe the girl I met in Vegas was a version of her forced by her sister and the real Amanda is more reserved than that. Except for when we talk about music, which we find ourselves doing automatically every time we are together.
I clear the plates, and we make our way to the couch, glasses of iced tea in hand. “You can drink the wine,” she tells me. “I’m just not really feeling it right now.”
“I don’t need to drink alcohol to enjoy spending time with you, Amanda.” I face her on the couch, reaching over to brush her hair behind her ear. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”
Her face flushes and she smiles modestly. “Okay.”
“Okay? Is that your normal response to being told how beautiful you are?”
Amanda half shrugs. “I guess I’m not used to being told that. Aside from catcalls, I don’t get a lot of attention, especially when Kate is around.”
“We aren’t going to talk about Kate,” I frown.
Or the catcalls. The thought of it makes me want to throat punch people.
“You really didn’t have to do all of this,” she says again. “You’re already doing so much for me.”
“I’m doing it because you are doing me a favor. Because I enjoy being around you. Because you make my life not boring. Nothing kills love for music like working in the music industry. You’ve brought the joy back into it. I haven’t touched a guitar in years and now, I can’t seem to keep my hands from fidgeting to play more. You’ve brought a spark back into my life, Amanda, and I just–”
“What are you trying to say?” she asks quietly, and I can practically see her heart pounding in her chest.
“I think you’re amazing, Amanda. You make me feel things I didn’t know I ever would. I’ve been with a small handful of women throughout the years, but I never thought, never assumed, that I would ever feel anything. My mom wasn’t around. I grew up having no idea what love looks like and with you, I think I’ve figured it out. I see light and I feel excited and that’s saying a lot for me,” I sort of laugh. I can’t believe the way I am talking right now. “I just…I have never felt like this.”
“Like what?” her words come out breathy.
“Like I am falling for you. Hard. Everything about you takes my breath away.”
Amanda’s eyes are alive with color and emotion and even though she is smiling, her chin quivers slightly and I frown.
“Did I say something wrong?” I ask, suddenly worried.
“No. Not at all. I just…I feel the same way.”
Amanda smiles and a smirk pulls at the corners of my lips too and I lean in. “Enough talking about it then. I want to show you.”
I grab her by the hips and tug her down to me. She falls on her back on the couch with a small shriek as I begin to kiss her everywhere. I start with her knee, making her giggle and work my way up her soft thigh. She smells like lavender and bathwater but as I get closer to her pussy, even through the satin shorts, I can smell her want for me.
I can tell she is already wet, and I am suddenly dying of thirst.
I tug the shorts off and toss them aside.
“No panties?” I ask and she shakes her head slowly, biting her lip. “Naughty girl.”
“Is that bad?” she purrs, and I groan, a fire building deep in my stomach and spreading elsewhere.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were expecting this. Expecting to make love to me.”
“Is that what we are calling it now? Making love?” she asks, her tone bratty as fuck.
I love it.
“We will call it whatever I say we will call it. Your job is to moan.”
