Page 20 of Because of Me

Amira doesn’t pry, and I’m thankful for the reprieve.No more lies. At least, no new ones. And I make a silent vow to start opening up more. Holding on to the secret of the winery has become too much, I don’t know if I can keep it much longer. Fuck, I was so ready to tell someone, anyone, that I almost let it spill in front of all the guys at Cassidy’s housewarming the other day. At least I managed to hold it in until it was just me and Michael, I can try to convince myself I only told him because he looked like he needed the pep talk, but in reality, I was desperate to get it off my chest.

I’m still not sure how he fits into the circle of friends, but he was a decent bloke. And with his construction company I might even be able to pull off my grand hotel plans. As long as he doesn’t let slip about the ownership of the winery.

The back of my neck begins to tingle. I turn around slowly, catching Amira eyeing me off. Her lower lip is pulled between her teeth.

“Forgot you were an ass girl, Cupcake,” I jest, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject. Like I could ever forget. “What time do you have to go pick up your cousin?”

She startles, pushing off the door frame and taking a step into the room. “Oh fuck.” In a rush, she spins in a circle and races out of the room. “I’m going to be late,” she calls from down the hall.

I follow after her, entering the living room in time to see her placing Kitch down on the couch. Amira is halfway to the door before she pauses and calls over her shoulder.

“She’s um—” she freezes and turns slowly towards me. “She’s going to need that bed.”

It takes me an age to process what she means, and Amira is gone before it actually ticks over. Maybe she waited for me to respond, backing away slowly when she realised I couldn’t. It’s just as likely that she ran as soon as the words were out, leaving me to process. Either way, I disassociated enough in the moment not to notice.

I creep, unintentionally cautious back into the spare room. Everything I’d unpacked into the wardrobe screams at me. I hadn’t thought when I trudged the suitcase in here and began to unpack. But of course, Amira’s cousin will need this room. I don’t know why I hadn’t realised it earlier.

I think, somehow, I brushed over the fact couples typically share rooms. And beds.

A vision flashes across the back of my eyelids, sending a throbbing pulse directly to my balls. Amira, in her bed. Me, climbing in next to her.Fuck.My cock thickens in my pants, aching for friction, release. But I can’t. I shouldn’t. Reaching down, I adjust my now firm length, thankful Amira has already left. A heavy sigh escapes as I roll my shoulders back and begin pulling clothes from the hanger.

Amira’s bedroom is exactly as I remember it. Tidy, save for the pile of clothes thrown over the chair in the corner. A large mirror rests on top of the dresser, surrounded by Polaroid photos. There’s almost no room in her wardrobe for my handful of shirts, but I squeeze them in. We’ll probably have to store some of her winter clothes in my suitcase for the duration of my stay, but otherwise it will have to do.

Unless she has room in the dresser. I step across to it, curious, but opt not to check the drawers. I’ll ask her, subtly of course, once she’s back. The photos catch my eye though. There are none that look to be of Amira’s family, save a few similar aged men and women, all with the same dark hair, who could be cousins. No parents in sight. Most are of Amira and Cassidy, blurry nightclub photos and happy weekend snaps. And other friends, scattered throughout. A short woman with bright red hair, arm in arm with Amira on the small balcony off the living room. One of Amira and her old work friends, taken the night of her thirtieth birthday celebration. The night that began the chain of events leading to me being here right now.

I notice it then, a photo hidden more than the others, but I’d recognise the messy mop of dark blond hair anywhere. I don’t remember it being taken, and I’m not looking at the camera. The photo is from inside the apartment, looking out to where I’m standing out in the hallway. A large box is in my arms as I step towards the open door.

She took a photo of me the day Cassidy moved in. And she’s kept it on her wall ever since. Confusion is a clown dancing in the corners of my vision. It could mean everything, but it could also mean nothing. I turn away, flustered, with the intention of getting the rest of my things but my eyes catch on the bed. Soft white sheets topped with a deep purple throw. Those same purple pillows Amira snuggled into after the wedding. And again the vision of us climbing into bed together shows starkly in my mind.

Amira, not curled against the pillows, but sprawled out on top of them. Me, not climbing in next to her, but crawling over her. Holding my weight inches above her body.

She’s pulling her lip between her teeth and I’m barely holding on. I fight to breathe, fight to control the fire racing through my veins. Stumbling, I sit on the edge of the bed, catching my breath. Again, I reach below my waist to adjust my cock, but the subtle friction through my pants does nothing to sedate the carnal need formore.

Amira taunts me from behind my eyes. I let them fall shut and give in to the fantasy. Hovering over her, I feel her chest panting beneath me. In and out, every breath grazes her breasts against my bare chest. The thin cotton of her lace pyjama tank does nothing to hide the way her nipples draw firm. For a moment, we stare into each other’s eyes, waiting to see who will cave first.

It’s me, I do. I always will. In reality, my hands race to unbuckle my pants. My cock springs free and I hiss as I wrap my hand around my thick shaft. Pre-cum spills from the tip, and I use my thumb to swipe it over my dick. I spit into my hand before grabbing firmly and stroking myself.

In my mind, I give in to temptation and drop my body onto Amira’s. I grind against her, savouring how perfectly she fits beneath me, appreciating the whimper that escapes her. I claim the sound with my mouth. She gasps at first but relaxes into the kiss when I press my firm length into her core. I can feel how wet she is through the layers of our barely there clothing, and I’m aching for more.

I pump my cock as I undress her in my mind, taking my time to peel away her thin layers and soak in every inch of her body. I kiss my way down her chest, pulling her nipple into my mouth as I line myself at her entrance. The urge to taste every part of her is overwhelming, but less so than the need to feel her pussy wrapped around my dick.

Spitting down into my hand again, I spread the moisture over myself, imagining it’s Amira gripping me so tightly. Imagining how warm and wet and fucking incredible it would feel to be deep inside her. Every part of my body is on fire with wanting and having andfuck,knowing this may never be. But I can’t control it. My release builds and I’m ferociously thrusting into my fist. Amira whimpers in my mind as I thrust into her. She feels like heaven and hell and fuckinghomeall rolled into one.

My orgasm hits me hard and fast as I spill onto my hands. In the aftermath, I’m hit by the harsh reality of not just what I’ve done, but what it means. Amira is ingrained into my body and imagining her was never going to be enough to keep her off my mind.

Coming down from my high, guilt claws its way up my spine. I hobble quickly to the bathroom, struggling to keep the cum from dripping through my fingers.

In the mirror, I look ragged and unkempt. I tidy up, washing my hands, pulling up my pants and adjusting my still throbbing bulge inside them.

Rules.We’re going to need them.

Like number one, no more masturbating on Amira’s bed. Especially not while daydreaming of her underneath me.

AMIRA

Ella doesn’t shut up, the whole drive back from the airport. I’d hoped she would be exhausted from the flight—even though it’s such a short one—and just want to relax against the headrest. But peaceful silence has never been her way.

“Thank you so much. Seriously.” She’s sitting curled and twisted on the seat with her knees to her chest, leaning her side against the back of the chair. I doubt her seatbelt would offer her much protection if we had a crash with her in that position, so I continue to focus on the highway as I respond to her for the umpteenth time.

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