CHAPTER 5: "DEEPER, BABY...."

Amber

“Hunter’s in the living room,” I whispered into the phone, “alone.”

“And that’s weird?” 

Hunter’s never alone, I thought and whispered, “He’s always with someone. A–a pack member or a woman.” 

I’m so nervous, I don’t even know why. 

“But he’s alone now.” 

“Yes,” I exhaled.  

“So maybe he’s waiting for someone—stop getting off track,” Eva snapped in her matron’s voice, “Stick to the plan, okay Miss Easily Freaked Out?” 

Right. The plan. 

“Are you close enough to be heard?”

I nodded, forgetting that I’m on the phone because my mind was already absorbed in the beautiful man sun-bathing on the living room couch before my eyes. 

Hands tucked, head back, eyes closed, he was in his usual relaxed mode—he couldn’t look more ravishing. 

Day or night. 

With or without clothes on. 

I mean, how can any man come this close to perfection. And so effortlessly. 

That untamed silvery hair flirting freely by the open window like a wild stallion in the breeze; that nose of quiet arrogance and a mouth of devilish charm. 

Old man? Ha! I must be crazy. 

I pushed his godlike nakedness out of my mind and cleared my throat. 

“Yes, they were from a guy,” I said loudly, grinning smugly inside. “What do you think a guy wants when he gives a girl flowers?” 

Hunter’s eyes flew open. 

And my heart nearly stumbled. 

I swung away, pretended not to see him, and blurted, “H–he asked me out on a date of course!” 

Secretly, I checked, and he was staring at the ceiling in ponderment. 

And I was thrilled: it’s working!

“God,” Eva groaned, “so this is what a forty-year-old virgin sounds like.” 

“I’m not!” I hissed aside in secret. “A little help here, please!” 

She sighed and relented. “Okay, what did the guy do?” 

“Oh–oh yeah!” I flipped back into the same loud voice, “He was trying to hug me, put his lips on me—.” 

I came to a screeching halt because a sound busted in.  

“Ah!” The sweet moan of a pussy being fingered deeply. Then, its owner—a voluptuous woman with big hair, in a tiny bikini—swung onto Hunter’s lap. 

And sheer embarrassment set me on flames right there. 

The woman’s been here this whole time! She’s been here, and I did not see her! How blind can I be—?

Then, blood and colour drained from my face as the horror of my new reality sank in: she heard everything I just said! 

But she didn’t seem to care. 

“Deeper, baby…,“ she purred against Hunter’s mouth. “Make me want your cock badly….”

And Hunter finally moved—for her sake—leaning forward and sliding his face down hers, rubbing his lips against her moaning skin, to bury it into her neck.

Then, the next thing I knew, fierce, wet sucking sounds and higher moans exploded from them.

Like my presence didn’t matter. 

“Want my cock, baby?” he muttered, that same deep voice he’d used in my ears last night, praising me and calling me ‘baby’. 

And jealousy stabbed me. 

Everyone he fucks is ‘baby’. He fucked me, so technically I’m ‘baby’. Not a term of endearment. Just someone he’s fucking or has fucked. 

I stood there feeling like a complete idiot. I had willingly let myself be used by the likes of his loose dick! I had become just another one of his fucked ladies—. 

The slut grabbed his face to yank it up to meet hers, her dirty lust pouring from her gasping face of heat as she ordered him to ‘go faster’, and his grin showed even greater satisfaction before he told her to ‘enjoy it’. 

And when she leaned back to get more of his fingers, I saw his fingers, most of them disappearing in her pussy, digging and delving, prodding her moans even harder.  

The slick sounds of her wet pussy slapped the word ‘slut’ on my forehead. 

And on top of feeling like an idiot, I looked like a clown. 

Here I am doing a solo act and no one is watching. 

He probably didn’t know I was there. 

And even if he did, he doesn’t care. 

Hunter Black doesn’t give a shit about Amber Kratos because I’m just a kid—his niece. 

“Amber?” The voice from the phone slapped me out of my stupor. 

And I rushed out of there—with a tail between my legs. 

*****

“Oh….” Eva’s voice fell. “So he wasn’t alone.”

“No,” I sobbed, pressing tissue hard to my eyes, “I told you he’d never be alone! God, I feel so stupid now!” 

“Ssh…, there, there.” Her invisible hand rubbed my back. “Trust me, you’ll get over it. Then, you’ll be up bouncing again, chasing after him—.” 

“NO!” I banged my tissue-clutching fist on my vanity table. The girl in the mirror, cheeks steamed, eyes puffy, with her make-up ruined stared back in resolute anger. “NO MORE, E. I MEAN IT!” 

My phone speaker rustled with a static sigh. 

“I want to believe you, Am. I really do. As your best friend, who wants nothing but the best for you, I think you should get rid of this ten-year-old toxic crush. But honestly, there’s also a reason why you’ve had this crush for this long!” 

“I hate you too!” I cried loudly.

Snatching more tissues off the tissue box, I buried my crying face in them and wailed hard. 

“Okay,” she finally softened, “then this person you hate is going to put a bandage on your split heart.” 

“How?” I choked in pathetic tears. 

“What better way to kill a heartache than poison?” 

“I don’t do drugs!” I wailed hard again. 

“I don’t mean drugs, you idiot!” 

“You think I’m stupid too!” My anguish burst like water from a broken pipe. 

“Sorry! I don’t mean that. He’s the stupid one! He, not you, okay!” Eva sighed, her exasperation clear. “Put on that sexy shit and get your ass to the address I’m sending you now. We’re hitting the clubs for real poison.” 

Ah. Alcohol. 

As always, Eva knows the best solution to my problems. 

“Which ‘sexy shit’?” I blew into the tissue.

She groaned with more exasperation. 

“Are you kidding me? There's only one dress you have that’s tight and clingy enough, you big bookworm. It should’ve been black, not white, but whatever. As long as it shows your big boobs and tiny waist, that’s all that matters.” 

“I can’t breathe in that one—.” 

“Put it on,” she snarled, “and slapped on some make-up—the one I showed you, mascara and all—and get your sexy ass over in an hour.” 

And she disconnected before I could protest. 

I hate that make-up: the thick layer of oil and chemicals on my face. But what the hell. I need that booze, and I’m gonna get it no matter what. 

And as I moved around my room getting ready, busy soaking in the tears of my latest heartache, someone was outside, his back against the door, listening to every word of my voice, every sound of my movement.