8. Amberlee
Chapter 8
Amberlee
T here’s a knock on my door and my body cringes. I know it’s not Maddy, she would’ve let herself in, same for Ryan. RJ would’ve pounded on the door, calling for me so it only leaves one person. Jeremiah.
I’ve been avoiding him since I moved into the garage apartment four days ago. It’s not as hard as you think. I know when he’s working, so I make sure that’s when I go over to the house to visit Maddy and RJ and help her with anything she needs. If I need to watch RJ, he comes here and we have popcorn and movie marathons.
The kid really loves his Marvel movies and I have to admit, Thor ain’t that bad to look at.
I choose to have dinner at home, pretending that I'm still feeling unwell and exhausted from the day's activities, or I'm catching up with friends from home via a video call.
“Amberlee, I know you’re in there, your car is here. Open up,” Jeremiah calls as he begins knocking on the door again. I’m standing just inside my bedroom, out of sight if he manages to sneak a peek through the open blinds.
Fuck! I need to remember to start closing them.
“Come on, you've been holed up in here since you moved out of the house. Ryan sent me to get you. We’re grilling burgers and he wants his sister to join.” He knocks again, but I don’t budge and I don’t say a word.
Only when I hear the pounding of his feet on the steps as he goes down do I blow out a breath of air.
It won’t be long-lived. Ryan or Maddy are going to be over here any minute and unlike Jeremiah, they have a key.
I need a plan and I need one quick.
There’s no way I can hang out with Jeremiah, not when I can’t even think clearly when he’s around. I’m a grown woman, but seeing him turns me into a star struck teenager again. Most of all, I don’t want to see her. Sylvia. Next to her, I’d be a DUFF, just like in the movie. Worse would be seeing them all over each other, knowing I would give anything to be in her place.
I think Maddy knows I have a crush on him, or at least she thinks I do, but anytime she brings Jeremiah up, I quickly change the subject to the new babies.
Looking over at my dresser I see my phone and pick it up, heading straight to the bathroom. Putting the stopper in the drain, I turn the water on, while I key up some music on my phone and turn it up to a volume that could muffle someone knocking on the door.
I pour some bubbles into the water, and undress, stepping inside the clawfoot tub. Sinking into the warmth of the water, I finally let my body relax. If anyone comes over, they’ll find me in the midst of a relaxing bath that I don’t want to leave.
I’ve only been soaking for a couple of minutes, just long enough to rest my head on the back of the tub and close my eyes, when I hear the door squeak open.
“Ahh fuck, sorry,” Ryan barks awkwardly.
Looking up, I catch him covering his eyes as he turns around and steps back into the hallway.
Time to put on my best acting skills.
“What the hell Ryan! Don’t you know how to knock?”
“I did. You didn’t answer. You didn’t when Jeremiah was over here just a few minutes ago either.”
“If I didn’t answer then I was probably busy, like I am right now, naked in the damn tub. What if I had been masturbating? Do you want to scar me for life, having my brother walk in on me?”
He goes to turn around but quickly stops. “ Scar you? What about me? And as far as being walked in on when masturbating, me seeing you doesn’t top Mom walking in on me doing it.”
I have to cover my mouth to muffle my laugh. I remember that all so well. I may have had a part in it. I knew he was in his room, and I could hear the moans from the video he was watching. He pissed me off earlier in the day when he called me a baby. Payback is a bitch.
“What do you want, anyway?”
“We’re grilling and want you to come over and join us.”
Fuck. I need to get out of this.
“I can’t. I have some stuff I need to handle for the new job. Paperwork and some training that needs to be done before school starts. If I don’t do it now, I won’t be able to go to the beach with everyone.”
Shit, why didn’t I think about that being a reason I couldn’t go. Now Ryan will make sure I get everything done so I can.
“Alright. Want me to bring you a plate?”
“No, I already ate. Now can you go so I can finish my bath? My orgasm isn’t going to happen on its own and I was right at the good part before you walked in,” I tease him.
“Fuck you, Amberlee. You’re sick.” He storms off down the hallway, dry heaving, and I burst out laughing. Serves him right.
Since I’m in the tub, I decide to indulge. When I hear the door shut, my head falls back and my eyes drift shut. Maybe an orgasm wouldn’t be such a bad idea, truly. I know it’ll take the edge off, for the moment anyway.
Images of Jeremiah moving furniture in my apartment fill my mind, replacing those of him at the pool back when I was a teenager. He’s a man now, more muscular and built than he was. There’s even a more sophisticated air about him. His stoic posture reminds me of my father, even how he speaks. No longer sounding like the carefree young man from years ago, but one with responsibilities. I guess that comes with being married and a father.
In my mind, he raises his arm, gripping the box he’s supporting on his shoulder, his muscles rippling as sweat glistens on his skin.
My hand cups my breast, gently rubbing my thumb over my pebbled nipple as a soft moan escapes me. Each breath I take becomes heavy and ragged as one of my hands slides down my belly, dipping under the water, in between my thighs to my throbbing core.
My fingers slip through my folds, grazing over my clit as I stroke up and down. My body is on fire from the touch plus the warmth of the water, so it doesn’t take long for that familiar flutter in my stomach to happen. I find my clit once more, rubbing tiny circles around the nub, pressing deeper with each stroke.
I wish it was Jeremiah’s fingers doing this to me, his mouth on my hot center, eating me out until I come all over his tongue. That thought sends me careening over the edge as my body explodes, my thighs clamping down on my hand.
It takes a few moments to come down from the high before the guilt sets in.
How awful am I to masturbate to the thought of a married man? To long for him to be the first man I sleep with. To be the man to take my virginity.
I’m a fucking bitch. He’s married and I shouldn’t be having thoughts like this.
Pulling out the stopper, the water drains as I slowly stand. I take hold of the towel hanging up and dry off before stepping out onto the bath mat. Wrapping the towel around me, I walk to my bedroom and face plant onto my bed.
I want to disappear! I was an idiot to move here, knowing he was here and I’d run into him regularly. I can only hope that when I move, these feelings I have for him will ease.
Who am I kidding? We’ve been in different states for seven years and it hasn’t happened yet. The best I can hope for is only seeing him on very rare occasions.
I need to find a man, one who can take my mind off of Jeremiah. In a town this size and an army base right in the center that should be a piece of cake.
Hopefully!
Pressing my face into the bed, I scream, letting out all my frustrations before standing and getting dressed in my pajamas. There’s no way I’m leaving this apartment tonight. Nor will I be letting anyone in.