“Keep going. Do you want to know what I’m doing?” he asks.
I close my eyes, unable to withstand the sensations and focus on anything around me. “Yes.” I arch my hips and press down harder.
“I’ve got my hand around my cock, my eyes are shut, and I’m imagining you, working yourself until you come.”
At the admission, I realize his breathing has picked up and taken on a rougher sound. He is obviously pumping himself with his hand, his body as primed and ready as mine is.
On that thought, I whimper and squeeze myself harder. Stars flicker behind my eyes and everything around me explodes in bright lights and wondrous sensation. “Shane!”
“I love that you scream my name when you come. God, yes. Fuck, Amber.”
I hear the words, my name, and know he’s reached his orgasm as well, and my body gives another little tremor before my legs fall to the mattress and I lay trying to catch my breath.
“Damn, if this is what you do to me over the phone, I can’t imagine the next time we’re together.”
I can’t help the smile that lifts my lips.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Gonna sleep okay now?” His voice sounds raspy and so close, as if he was by my side. But his arms aren’t around me, and I’m alone.
“I will, but I miss you.” The words come naturally and without thought, making me realize I am in so deep with this man.
“I miss you, too. Another week.”
“Seven days. We’ve got this,” I say as much to myself as to him.
“And then we’ve got each other.”
On that very pleasant thought, we say good night and I roll over, my body satisfied and my thoughts on Shane as I drift off to sleep.
***
Amber
The last economicsclass falls on the day before the final exam. I didn’t think I’d ever feel ready, but I know I’ve done all I can to get myself to the point where I can walk into that room with some confidence.
Shane is going over the more difficult concepts when I hear the low buzz of my cell phone in my bag. I forgot to shut it off before walking into the lecture hall, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
A quick glance tells me it is Carrie, who rarely texts, so I peek at the message.EVERYTHING IS OKAY but L.J. had a little accident. Five stitches in his leg. Wanted you to know but promise he’s FINE.
Panic and worry rush through me. I believe Carrie and trust her to take care of my son, and if something really serioushappened, that text would have said to call her immediately. But to me, stitches are a big deal.
It means my boy’s first trip to the emergency room, his first time getting sewn up, without his mom there. Worried and needing to talk to L.J., I gather my things and, without a glance around me, rush out of the room. Without waiting, I drop my things right outside the door and pull out my phone.
A second later, Carrie’s face is on the screen. “He’s fine, Amber. I promise you.”
Tears fall from my eyes. “I believe you. It’s just that I’m not there.”
Carrie’s expression is soft and understanding. “He was a champ.”
“What happened?” I ask, leaning against the wall outside the classroom.
“He didn’t listen and ran to give Samuel the pair of scissors. I’m sorry, honey. I feel terrible and responsible.”
I shake my head. “No! It could have happened while I was there, too. I know he’s in good hands. Can I talk to him?”
