Chapter 29
Amelia
Part of me knew I needed a break, especially since my eyes felt itchy. Sleep weighed heavily on me, aching for a long winter’s nap. Well, more like a summery nap, but you get the picture. At least, the weather was getting warmer, and I could finally feel the sun warm my skin.
Though I was exhausted, my mind never stopped spiraling, rambling on with random ideas or thoughts.
I walked into my house, noting that Chris hadn’t returned home and it was for the best. I wondered if Shooter had something to do with his disappearance but shoved the thought away. He made me crazy, though seeing a softer side of him was easy. Being lost in him, it was easy.
And when his little demons wanted to play, those moments turned into nothing but lust and desire, the cure for a long yearning.
As I trudged through my room, unpacking my work bag, I made the mental note that I needed to get laundry done so I wasn’t recycling scrubs or getting scrubs at work.
The long list of things to do just kept growing.
But the only thing to settle my mind was to clean and straighten up, I knew I needed to put on my last set of patches, but I was too tired to even do that.
I tried to stay on schedule, but my mind blanked out sometimes.
After a long shower and a double check of my phone to see if Shooter messaged me or called, I went around the large room and picked up.
Seriously, it looked like a hurricane had blown through and ripped through my drawers.
I laughed when I got to my one small dresser, seeing that my underwear was diminishing in numbers, knowing the sole cause.
I couldn’t help but smile knowing that the smile reappeared on my face due to one person.
Scattering around the room, I also found that I couldn’t find my wedding ring that usually was in the ring holder, and had stayed there for a long time.
It didn’t mean anything to me, and it never would.
On the other side of the room, my large dresser with pictures and memorabilia from my time back home filled me with joy.
As I cleaned through the mess on the top, my hand knocked over a photo of me and my girls at work. When I picked up the picture, I couldn’t help but notice a small circular dot on it. I scratched it, held it up to the light, pulled it close to my face.
Why did it look like a camera? Or something else.
I plopped the frame back on the counter and thought about where else they could be.
Was someone watching me? Invading my privacy? I searched around the room, trying to find out where others may be, I swept through the whole room. I found a circular device and a small cylinder piece that had tiny holes.
I knew that Chris didn’t have the brains nor the connections to put it in my room. Nor the fucking access.
My heart raced to the possibility that it had been Tony or the people he worked for that put them there.
But they wouldn’t do it. We had a good relationship, I never pissed them off, they wouldn’t hit me.
I was a good person in their eyes. There was no need, I wasn’t running, I was diligent and responsible.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. There was one other person, obsessed with me that could have done this, watching me, and in his mind protecting me. Without my knowledge. How long had he been watching me? And why?
He had been in my room before all of this, before we had gotten closer. How much has he seen? Did he raid my panties?
What had he seen? What had he heard?
My mind spun with the possibilities and the notion that he had been here. My hand glided up to my cheek, my hand ghosting over it. The tingling feeling that a kiss or two had been there, I thought was a dream. But what if he had come, staying in the shadows, watching over me.
Fuck, I knew that I had said his name a few times, between my dreams and waking myself up at night.
I thought I was crazy for feeling like someone was in the room or at the very least watching my every move. I thought maybe it was my fucking paranoia that Chris would be home and was waiting for me or something. My mind was playing all the scenarios. I should be furious with him.
The transformation from being worried and anxious to straight pissed off was instant.
Two could play this game. A plan started to brew in my mind and the next thing I knew I was changing into a dark blue lingerie piece that I was saving for a rainy day.
And in my mind I was storming. I found my gray silk robe and my phone.
I waited for a moment, before I could think, I messaged him.
Me: Call me, sugar.
A few moments later as I positioned myself in front of the camera, sitting on the edge of the bed, Shooter’s name appeared on my phone.
“Whatcha doing, peaches?”
I played coy. “Nothing much. I hadn’t heard from you and maybe I just missed you a little bit.” My fingers teased my skin along my collarbone, sometimes a nervous habit, but not this time.
I wasn’t lying when I said I missed him, but I had other ideas.
“Mm, I bet you do. You just get off from the night shift? You should be in bed.”
“Maybe I am.” My voice had a hint of husk and lust. “Maybe I’m just waiting for a certain someone to come and sleep in my bed.”
“I wish I could. We just got done with church and we’re about to go and patrol and do some check-ins.
You could always come to the clubhouse and I’m sure that if you were laid in my bed, we could fix that little problem.
” His voice was deep and distracting, luring me into a daydream of what would happen if I did that and woke up with cock buried in me.
I swear my vagina was a backstabbing bitch sometimes.
“As much as I would love that, I just slipped into something very comfortable.” My goosebumps prickled my skin. The anticipation, he was making it too easy to set him up.
A deep growl echoed in the phone. “You gonna let me see?”
Bingo.
Too easy.
I hummed. “You most certainly can. Why don’t you check the cameras.”
A moment of silence made me roll my lips between my teeth, and then I heard, “What cameras?”
“River. Now don’t play dumb.”
“Amelia?”
“Check your cameras, sugar, and you’ll see what you want to see. Like you've been watching for a while now,” I insisted, waiting for a moment before I shrugged the robe off my shoulders.
A hiss of a “fuck” made me giddier than a kid at Christmas. There were random noises like he was knocking something over with haste, and a few light clicks and Shooter started to groan and say, “You naughty girl.”
“Who me?” I grinned. “I’m not the one who set up hidden cameras in my bedroom.” My fingers glided over my collarbone, lightly teasing my skin, showing him exactly who he was dealing with.
A mutter of “fuck me” and I knew was he watching the screen. I tapped the phone to him on speaker, handsfree to do whatever I wanted.
“I can explain,” he tried to explain, but I knew his focus was on something else, or rather someone else.
I threw my head back, carefully teasing myself.
The pure excitement ran through me, knowing I held the power.
He couldn’t do anything but watch and be driven to madness.
I shrugged off the robe, exposing the dark satin that hugged my curves but split on the sides, the fabric hit just above the area between my pussy and my upper thighs.
My breasts filled out the top part, cradling them, my nipples peeking through the material.
“I’m sure you can. But I think you still need to be punished.” I didn’t stop exploring my body like it was brand new, this was for me just as much as it was for him.
“Amelia, let me explain,” the man whined, like it was pure torture seeing me but couldn’t touch me.
Though I pretended it was him creating goosebumps that plagued my skin.
He probably had a very good reason for what he did, but just like me he was hiding something.
But my thing, well it had an end date, for him, he may have kept them in there.
I stretched and arched my back, tossing my head back.
“I know you can, sugar. But you have been a very bad boy keeping something from me. So, what’s the expression, you can look, but can’t touch?
” I moved toward my nightstand, grabbing a friendly helper.
I wasn’t going to stop this, I was going to come.
All this work was going to be for me in the end.
I sat back on the bed, my ass perched on the edge, but my legs spread a little to tease him. His hard breathing let me know he was still paying attention.
He growled, just like the madman he was. “Maybe I have been a bad boy.”
“You thinking about me, Shooter? I bet right now, you’re hard, your cock pressed against those jeans, begging to be touched, wishing that you were deep inside me.
” My hands grazed over my breasts, finding my nipples, giving them a little teasing pinch, releasing a breathy moan.
“Are you drooling over the taste of my pussy?”
“Fuck me,” he rasped, and the slightest zipping sound made me smile. “I promise, it’s not what you’re thinking. I know I have been a bad boy.”
“Yes you have.” I brushed the edge of the gown to the side, showing him how much I was bare for him. I wasn’t wearing anything under it, it would have been easy access for him.
“It's not fair, you touching that pretty pussy of yours, which is mine.”
“But it feels so good.” I scooted back on the bed, throwing a pillow under my back for support for the next part of my plan.
I found my little pink helper, a trusty small vibrator that had served me well in previous lonely months.
I hitched up my gown, exposing my pussy in front of the camera.
“And just think, if you had told me about the camera months ago, you could have been touching me, teasing me.”