Chapter 8 #2
“I’m talking about the woman who makes me laugh even when I’ve had the day from hell. The one who brings wine over when she knows I need to unwind and talk. The woman who makes excuses to ‘be in the area’ but shows up in running clothes that look suspiciously clean.”
Jo groaned as she covered her face with her hands. “Busted.”
“Completely,” Amelia said as she drew one of Jo’s hands away from her face. “But it’s cute.”
Jo peered at her through her fingers. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m flattered.” Amelia dragged a hand through her hair. “But I’m not entirely sure it’s a good idea.”
Even though Jo knew Amelia was speaking sense, it didn’t hurt any less. She smiled and lowered her hand. “I know.”
“But we don’t let this come between us, okay?” Amelia placed a hand on Jo’s knee, firing up that familiar ache she felt around this woman. “I don’t want to lose you just because I can’t have you.”
Just because I can’t have you.
Those words played on repeat in Jo’s mind, emotion clawing at her throat.
Why did she have to fall for the one woman she knew she shouldn’t fall for?
It would be hard to maintain this now that she knew Amelia felt the same way Jo did, but she had to try.
Amelia meant too much to her. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. ”
With a squeeze of the knee, Amelia drew her hand away and smiled. “Cuppa while you’re here? You must be parched after the marathon you ran…”
Okay, Jo was never going to live this down. She knew that by the look in Amelia’s eyes. “Yes. An ice pack, too. I think I pulled something.”
The door clicked shut behind Jo. Amelia stood frozen in the hallway, her hand still resting on the doorknob, her breath and legs trembling.
Her heart had started to race again, not from panic, but from the ache that Jo’s presence had left behind.
A presence that Amelia never wanted to be without, but a presence she knew would become a dangerous game if she wasn’t careful.
She took a breath, then another, but it didn’t settle her.
The throb between her legs hadn’t lessened, not even with Jo sitting mere feet away for the best part of an hour, oblivious to what she’d interrupted when she’d initially called by.
When Jo had arrived, Amelia had genuinely been flustered.
Not because she wasn’t dressed, and not because she hadn’t expected company.
No, she’d been flustered because she’d been lying right there on the very same couch, her silk robe parted, her fingers slick and buried deep inside of her, while her thoughts swam with memories of Jo’s mouth and her breathless gasps in the dark room.
She wasn’t sure she’d even heard the doorbell at first. Once she’d realised that someone had rang it, her heart pounding, her legs trembling, and her orgasm cruelly abandoned, it had taken every ounce of discipline not to scream in frustration or come undone right there.
She should have let Jo walk away.
But then Jo had turned back, the sunlight catching the strands of hair around her face, those blue eyes soft and uncertain, and Amelia’s resolve had melted instantly. She’d invited her in because she needed her.
And now she was gone again.
This time, she’d left Amelia with a million different thoughts rushing through her mind.
Jo wanted her. Jo had shown up here with an excuse just to see her.
But Jo…couldn’t be the one. Amelia’s chest ached with the weight of it all.
She wanted Jo, of course she did, but the thought of explaining everything to those around her—Callum more so than anyone else—had dread sinking to the pit of her stomach.
But that could wait. Because right now, Amelia still needed a release.
She pushed away from the door and crossed the hallway slowly, her body taut with need and her breath shallow. Amelia felt raw, as though she’d been stroked to the edge without ever being touched. Because Jo had been right there, her eyes soft, her voice low with flirtation.
She stepped into the living room and looked at the couch. The same one where Jo had sat just minutes ago, her legs crossed and her face flushed from more than just her pretend jog. Her laughter still lingered in the air, and if Amelia wasn’t imagining it, her scent clung to the cushions.
She lowered herself to the couch and forced her shaking fingers down the front of her pants, her hips already shifting forward to meet her touch.
Her fingers found slick heat, and as she groaned, her head tipping back, Amelia closed her eyes and surrendered to the need that had been clawing at her since Jo walked in.
“F-fuck!” She rubbed slow, teasing circles as her hips rocked up to meet her hand. Her free hand drifted up, cupped a breast, her fingers teasing her nipple into a hard peak until her breath caught again.
She wants me.
Amelia pictured Jo on her knees between her thighs. Jo’s mouth, so curious and hungry. That filthy little smirk wiped away the moment Amelia buried her hand in Jo’s hair and guided her exactly where she needed her. Her rhythm quickened, and her mouth fell open as the heat burned deep in her belly.
“Jo.”
God, her name tasted insanely good on Amelia’s lips.
“Oh, fuck,” Amelia breathed as her hips rocked upwards, intense pleasure curling in her stomach. The pressure built quick and hot, her body tightening as she drew closer, caught in the helpless gravity and severity of everything she couldn’t have.
She came hard, her body shuddering against the couch as her muscles clenched and her walls squeezed her fingers. But she didn’t stop. Amelia stroked herself lightly, riding out the final waves of her orgasm.
When the room fell silent, Amelia lay spent, aching, and lonelier than she wanted to admit.
If she didn’t come clean about the dark room and Lia soon, she wasn’t only going to lose Jo, but she would lose her mind, too.