Chapter Six
Amber
With the economics final coming up, I increase my tutoring to twice a week.
I don’t want to risk failing and having to take the course all over again.
In addition, I invite my study group over to my house for an extra session.
I sense I’m not the only one struggling, and I think another couple of hours talking about the material will help.
I am grateful the other students don’t hold my age against me as a reason not to include me. And though I have a wealth of life experience they don’t, I enjoy their company.
They show up around seven, and I put out chips and soda.
As usual, the girls come together. Tamara Acker, Bonnie Green, and Rhonda May arrive arguing over whether or not a guy I don’t know is interested in Rhonda as something more than a friend.
The guys, two of them, Dan Markham and Jeff Rhodes, come late. Also as usual.
The discussion about said guy’s interest in Rhonda continues even after the study group guys show up.
“What do you think, Amber? If a guy flirts, is he interested?” Rhonda, a pretty brunette, asks.
I crunch on a baked chip before answering. “Depends if he’s a natural flirt with everyone. I’d have to know his personality before I could answer that.”
“You see? And he is a flirt with most girls,” Rhonda says to Bonnie and Tamara. “It’s not just about me.”
“Except the way he looks at you is different,” Tamara argues.
“Agreed.” This comes from Bonnie.
“So, two against one,” I muse. I’ve never gone for the overtly flirtatious ones. Both Levi and Shane have that intense focus in common. Once they saw what they wanted, they just knew. They didn’t need to flirt with the world.
Speaking of Shane, he hasn’t disappeared on me.
In the week since he dropped me off after the trip to the hospital to see his dad, he texted me nightly to talk and we really are getting to know each other a lot more.
Not just superficial things like he prefers vanilla to chocolate, though he does, but that his mother lives twenty minutes away and he wants me to meet her before school starts again in September.
He is neat, not fastidious; I like a clean house as well.
And he is pretty good at sexting, as I’ve learned a day or two into our nightly talks.
“Amber? Where did you drift off to?” Dan asks.
I blush and shake my head. “Sorry. I was thinking about my son,” I lie. “He was supposed to call earlier and didn’t.”
Dan frowns. “Well, we said we wanted to get started. Unless you’re feeling like you don’t need us now that your grades have gone up?”
I blink at his somewhat annoyed tone. Of everyone in the room, I like Dan the least. He has an attitude that rubs me the wrong way, and he definitely prefers when other people don’t do well in class and he does.
“I’d hardly call C’s a solid enough grade,” I say, hating how defensive I sound. “Of course I need all of your help. I suggested this meeting, didn’t I?”
“Shut up, Dan,” Tamara says. “Amber has responsibilities you can’t understand.”
Now I feel bad about lying regarding my thoughts, but Dan didn’t have to be such a jerk.
Still, they’ve taken me into their group, making it worth putting up with his bullshit that includes bragging about how he is going into his father’s financial firm after he gets his MBA.
Like everyone, he has years of college and then business school to get through first.
The rest of the night passes without incident, and we part ways, but we’ll see each other in class on Monday.
Seven more days until the final.
Seven more days until I can see Shane in public and act on my feelings.
I can handle a week.
After locking up for the night, I head for the bathroom, wash off my makeup, brush my teeth, and change into my favorite silk nightshirt.
I’ve just climbed into bed when my phone rings, and my body immediately responds, knowing it is Shane on the other end.
“Hi,” I say on a breathy whisper.
“Hey, there. How was study group?” he asks.
“Productive.” I don’t like to mention the other students to him since they are in his class. No reason to let him know what an ass Dan is. He’ll be out of my life soon enough.
“Are you in bed?” Shane asks, his voice low and gruff.
I shift on top of the covers. I haven’t crawled underneath yet. “I am. How was your day?”
“Busy. Buried in research.”
“And you love it,” I say.
“I do.”
I’ve come to realize he is most at home in his office at work or in the house he is renting, researching and getting lost in his economic theories …
that I despise, and that is putting it mildly.
Good thing we have other things in common.
We both love dogs but neither of us has time for a pet, at least right now, neither of us loves to cook but we both know how since we don’t want to starve and I have another mouth to feed.
But I hate his taste in pizza toppings and we have to order half and half. Pepperoni makes me want to gag and he hates mushrooms. I can live with that, I think wryly.
I yawn, the sound coming out of my mouth before I can control it. “Excuse me,” I say, laughing.
“Someone’s tired.”
I stretch out on my queen-size bed. “I had a long day studying, but I’m a little worked up with all those theories and things in my head. I don’t know if I’ll be able to fall asleep so fast.”
“I have the solution for calming your mind.” He chuckles, the sound low, deep, and sexy.
I squeeze my thighs together, knowing exactly what he has in mind. Sometimes he sends me sexy text messages, and other times he talks me through what he’d do to me if we were actually together.
“Yeah? Tell me more.”
“Well, I know if I were there, I’d use my mouth to make you come before filling you deep with my cock.
Seeing as how we have to wait for that, I’ll just have to give you an orgasm another way.
That’ll take your mind off of math and theory and put it exactly where it belongs. On feeling good. On me.”
“I can do that,” I murmur.
“What are you wearing?” he asks.
“A silk nightshirt and underwear.”
“Mmm-hmm. Okay, pull those sexy panties down your legs and expose that sweet pussy for me.” His voice rumbles low in my ear.
Doing as he asks, I place the phone beside me, put him on speaker, then hook my fingers into my underwear and wriggle them down my thighs, pulling them completely off. They’ll only be in the way.
“Done.”
“You know what to do now, don’t you?”
My breath hitches at his gruff voice, my finger automatically going to my clit. I am already wet with arousal, and I run my fingers through the moisture and moan aloud at the delicious waves rippling through me.
“Good girl. Do what you like best. What you’re going to teach me next time we’re alone together.”
I begin to move my finger in circles, the tip sliding repetitively over my sensitive clit. Normally it would take me a long time to come if I was alone, but in the last week, with Shane instructing me, whispering naughty things in my ear, it isn’t difficult at all.
“Shane,” I say on a low groan.
“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 economics class 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 serious happened, 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.”