Chapter Five
Amber
I wake up to a cold chill creeping across my body.
I never sleep naked, but the air’s kissing me as if every inch of my skin is exposed to the outside world. Warm lips invigorate me as they tickle down my skin, working their way slowly down my chest, seducing every curve till he reaches my lips.
His seductive kisses make my entire body ridge with excited goose bumps, every move is calculated and precise, as if his only mission is to make me feel good.
Soft hands caress my body, following the contours of my hips and torso, working in total synchronization with his kisses as they maneuver their way across my flesh and my fingers curl into sheets of pure satin–a fabric so soft it’s like being wrapped in clouds.
Eddie’s never spent this much time on foreplay before.
Maybe coming clean was the best thing to happen in our relationship.
It’s like he’s staking his claim, making sure I never have a reason to cheat again.
Every sensation feels new and unreal, like he’s been holding back and keeping the good stuff for himself.
Not anymore. Tonight, his only motivation is for me to achieve ultimate bliss–finishing for the first time.
A satisfied moan erupts in my throat, and I writhe against the blankets as he disappears between my legs. I’ve never moaned before, and the fact one just escaped my lips, startles me. I cover my mouth, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.
Eddie’s hand laces into mine, pulling my hand away so that he can hear more.
His lips work their way up my neck, nuzzling the sensitive skin with his nose as he lightly teases and brushes the pout of his lips over the cusp of my ear.
Another moan escapes me, hardening the length that’s pressing against my thigh.
His smile twitches against my flesh, and the husk of his voice purrs like a sweet kitten. “Do you like that, Amber?”
Strange, why is Eddie talking with an Australian accent?
He lifts his head, seducing me with a sultry Spanish moss tinted gaze.
Not Eddie… this isn’t Eddie.
The mysterious Australian man stares back at me, blinking like he’s waiting for me to speak. When I don’t, a devious smile spreads across his face, his lips teasing my nipples as he works his way down to them again.
“I need to hear you orgasm,” he demands, spearing me with confidence as his lips crash over mine and he fills me with his girth.
Ecstasy…
Bliss…
Perfection…
Wrong…
He doesn’t stop until we’re both dripping in pools of sweat, the sheets stained by our forbidden love making. Both of us are panting so hard we can’t keep up with our own breaths.
If sex was a sport, I just ran a fucking marathon.
The surrealness of this moment is not lost on me. He didn’t finish first. He didn’t make it all about him. Every single maneuver he made in the bedroom had a purpose–to please me.
My heart’s doing jumping jacks, my head’s swimming in a lust-driven haze.
This didn’t happen. It's not possible. Sex has never felt this good or right before.
Every kiss and flick of his tongue was strategically placed on my body just to please me.
He left me high and needy. All I want is for him to keep going and never stop. The greedy bitch in me needs more.
“Now that I have pleased you, it’s your turn to please me.
” A single dimple forms on his left cheek as his smile spreads across his face and he brings himself to his knees, presenting himself proudly.
“Do your worst,” he instructs. There’s no way I can refuse; it’s only fair after what he just did to me.
And before I can even think twice, we start round two…
Goddamn it was just a dream!
Or was it?
I’m fucking dripping in sweat, sticking to my sheets like I’m covered in glue. It felt so real… like he was here… like we were together. Was I remembering what happened between us, or was this all a wet dream?
I could feel his kisses on me, and his hands traversing every curve, but instead of waking up to that sexy accent, I find myself alone in my bed, realizing that it’s because of him I’m alone tonight.
Maybe Eddie called me while I was sleeping?
Checking my cell phone, I pathetically go through my call log, only to find I have a single missed call from a 702 area code left around one in the morning. It’s almost three now.
Shit, I had my phone on silent this whole time? No wonder I couldn’t hear it ring.
Luckily, the mysterious late-night caller left a voice mail, because I have no clue who would even try to call me this fucking late.
The voice on the other line is so faint I can barely hear it.
There are loud noises going on in the background, and it’s almost impossible to hear whoever it is without straining my ears to listen really hard.
The first few seconds of the call sound like a name, but it’s completely drowned out by the chaos going on in the background.
A loud voice shouts something, and a bunch of females start screaming like crazy while whistling and shouting obscene things I can’t quite make out.
All I hear is a “FUCK YEAH, BABY! TAKE THAT SHIT OFF!”
Whoever the caller is, moves into a less noisy room, and I can finally hear some of the conversation.
“Look, I’m not sure if you gave me the right number last night…” Fuck, it’s that sultry, thick, accent.
Shit! That means this is the guy. This is Mr. Australia. The man who fucked up my relationship without even knowing that’s what he did.
My heart starts to race, and panic seeps in. I gave him my number? Why the hell would I give him my number?
More noise blocks out whatever says next, and then it cuts through clearly mid-sentence.
“I’m not sure why you left without saying goodbye, but I really was serious when I said I wanted to get to know you better.
Could you please call me back as soon as you can?
We have some things I think we need to discuss.
Call me back at this number, Amber, please.
I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day, and that’s not like me at all. ”
The call ends there, and a part of me feels a bit of euphoria over it. Mr. Australia called me, and he wants me to call him back! But what the fuck is his name? I couldn’t hear shit over all the screaming women in the background.
I shouldn’t get this excited over a phone call, but Eddie never talks to me like this, at least not lately. Maybe in the beginning he used to charm the pants off me, but those days stopped the second he admitted to cheating.
Like an idiot, I listen to the call at least three more times, straining to hear more, hoping to catch what his name is when he says it, but I can’t hear shit.
I must’ve made some sort of impression on him, otherwise he wouldn’t be calling me, but I thought by leaving his hotel room he would have gotten the hint that our night of fun was over and never wanted to see him again.
Even though it’s super late, I make my way over to Poppy’s room. I need advice. I’m feeling shit I shouldn’t be feeling when I should be focused on trying to get Eddie back.
But do I really want him back when he’s spent the last few months ignoring me and treating me like his fuck toy instead of a girlfriend? Is our relationship even worth saving?
Having mystery man’s number sitting in my phone scares me shitless.
The desperate part of me that wants to forget everything that happened tonight, wishes she had enough courage to pick up the phone, call back mystery man, and hop on the first flight to Vegas to rendezvous again.
Then there’s the loyal part of me who wants to work things out with Eddie, the girl whose finger is resting over the delete button, ready to forget about him, Vegas, and is ready to piece back the life he ripped away from me.
Eddie’s face right before he slammed his fist through my wall is still vivid in my mind. I need to make things right again.
I just want us to go back to before, to the days in the beginning of our relationship where Eddie treated me like I was a precious gem stone, and did everything in his power to make me happy. That’s the Eddie I miss. Not the monster who punched a hole in my wall.
I can hear Poppy snoring on the other side of the door.
Damn, I was hoping she’d be up studying or something.
When she doesn’t answer, I crack open her door and poke my head inside, loudly whispering, “Poppy, can I talk to you?”
Her body shifts under her blanket and she loudly grumbles something incoherently in her sleep. “Poppy, wake up!” I yell a little louder.
Poppy and I have lived together for months, it was only recently that Pippa moved in with us too, saying she didn’t want to be away from her sister any longer.
When they got to college, Pippa wanted to be on her own, refusing to be known as one of “the twins” like she was in high school.
Even though we all go to the same school, Pippa picked a dorm on campus, while Poppy and I chose to live in a duplex close to school.
After a few semesters of Pippa not really making any new friends, she ended up taking our third bedroom, bringing us all together again.
Poppy moves slightly in her sleep, and then does a weird sleeping whistle, followed by a strange clicking thing with her tongue, before going silent.
This time, I move across the room and grab her arm, gently shaking her, “Poppy, I need to talk to you. Please wake up.”
She shoots up, clutching her chest like I just woke her up from a nightmare.
“Damn, Amber! Are you trying to kill me? What if I had punched you or something? Don’t you know that it’s not good to wake people up by shaking them?
If there’s one person in the world, you don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night, it’s a crazy Latina like me! ”