For once, Amber woke up before her alarm set off. She blinked into the pre-sunrise darkness, slowly awakening. Her body told her she was alone in bed, but for some reason, she thought someone else should be in there with her-- habit, from having woken up next to Eric these past couple of mornings? But there was more. Amber could smell him. She'd changed her bed sheets, but not the pillow cases. Amber closed her eyes, breathed in deep; stretched, and let herself revel in that scent. If he were here--
Oh. That sparked off her interest. Still mostly asleep, Amber slid her right hand down her chest, grazing lightly over the center of her ribcage, her tummy, and into her panties. If Eric were here, they'd be kissing, of course. He'd be making one of his wry remarks about her morning hair, and she'd shut him up by kissing him breathless, deep and relentless. Amber rubbed her mons with the base of her palm, letting the sensation build up before delving between her labia with her fingertips, circling just so, taking in her slight wetness. It was better when Eric did touched her with his thicker fingers, watching his smug smirk grow, the strength and dexterity of his entire body focused on just there, to bringing her off. Amber stroked faster everywhere, eyes closed, thinking of the growl in Eric’s voice as he encouraged her, his rapid breath hot and wet against her ear, the unpredictability of his touch-- and came, soft like a sigh. Amber stretched again, arching her back. Nowhere near as satisfying, but it would have to do until they met up again.
She hadn't filmed it, but she could some other session.
Even with the distraction, Amber was able to take her time showering and eating her breakfast of cereal, appreciating how, for once, she was neither rushing nor filled with the dread of seeing an ex at work. She was even able to blow-dry her hair, making it fuller and glossier than it had been in days. Though, as she checked herself out in the mirror, it wasn’t her hair that was making her feel so good.
Only Brennan had arrived before her, and he eyed her with simple tiredness when she came in. Without a word she settled for one of the lower rows—being closer meant House would hear and see her better—and continued her last night’s reading on breakthroughs in Melanoma as the others trickled in, seating themselves behind her. Everyone must’ve been as jaded as Brennan, since no one offered any comments to her, and from the sound of it, to one another. Good. Cole was the last one, running in—delayed by his kid?—and Amber wondered where Eric was, and what he was doing.
When he did come in, she suppressed a smile, even if none of the others would’ve seen it. Had to be professional. Had to get used to being professional despite her feelings. Amber had turned back to her reading, which was why when something rustled in the space of her peripheral vision, she was surprised. She caught a glance of Eric’s fingers as they lifted up again, and then looked at what he’d left her. Now she couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. Sunflower seeds. Perfect. Her favorite flower, but better, the promise of them. In a useful, and not at all tritely saccharine form. Amber looked up at him as he nonchalantly opened up his newspaper, and grinned all the harder. She was holding herself back, but what she really wanted was to find a spare room and thank him properly. Her questions and doubts from yesterday hadn’t gone away, but she’d resolved them enough in her mind to not need to barge him down with them before the right time. (Though—were these a spontaneous gift? Or was it for their week anniversary? Did Eric always make a point of marking the occasion with a special, individualized gift, making each of his girlfriends feel special? Good thing he hadn’t given her actual sunflowers, or worse, another rose, that’d have been even more questionable. But no, she wasn’t going down that path again, not when she couldn’t just ask him.)
So when half an hour had passed and Cuddy shooed them out to the clinic, Amber did not make any attempt to linger or to stay with Eric. Whatever they had to discuss, they could do it tomorrow.
no subject
Oh. That sparked off her interest. Still mostly asleep, Amber slid her right hand down her chest, grazing lightly over the center of her ribcage, her tummy, and into her panties. If Eric were here, they'd be kissing, of course. He'd be making one of his wry remarks about her morning hair, and she'd shut him up by kissing him breathless, deep and relentless. Amber rubbed her mons with the base of her palm, letting the sensation build up before delving between her labia with her fingertips, circling just so, taking in her slight wetness. It was better when Eric did touched her with his thicker fingers, watching his smug smirk grow, the strength and dexterity of his entire body focused on just there, to bringing her off. Amber stroked faster everywhere, eyes closed, thinking of the growl in Eric’s voice as he encouraged her, his rapid breath hot and wet against her ear, the unpredictability of his touch-- and came, soft like a sigh. Amber stretched again, arching her back. Nowhere near as satisfying, but it would have to do until they met up again.
She hadn't filmed it, but she could some other session.
Even with the distraction, Amber was able to take her time showering and eating her breakfast of cereal, appreciating how, for once, she was neither rushing nor filled with the dread of seeing an ex at work. She was even able to blow-dry her hair, making it fuller and glossier than it had been in days. Though, as she checked herself out in the mirror, it wasn’t her hair that was making her feel so good.
Only Brennan had arrived before her, and he eyed her with simple tiredness when she came in. Without a word she settled for one of the lower rows—being closer meant House would hear and see her better—and continued her last night’s reading on breakthroughs in Melanoma as the others trickled in, seating themselves behind her. Everyone must’ve been as jaded as Brennan, since no one offered any comments to her, and from the sound of it, to one another. Good. Cole was the last one, running in—delayed by his kid?—and Amber wondered where Eric was, and what he was doing.
When he did come in, she suppressed a smile, even if none of the others would’ve seen it. Had to be professional. Had to get used to being professional despite her feelings. Amber had turned back to her reading, which was why when something rustled in the space of her peripheral vision, she was surprised. She caught a glance of Eric’s fingers as they lifted up again, and then looked at what he’d left her. Now she couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. Sunflower seeds. Perfect. Her favorite flower, but better, the promise of them. In a useful, and not at all tritely saccharine form. Amber looked up at him as he nonchalantly opened up his newspaper, and grinned all the harder. She was holding herself back, but what she really wanted was to find a spare room and thank him properly. Her questions and doubts from yesterday hadn’t gone away, but she’d resolved them enough in her mind to not need to barge him down with them before the right time. (Though—were these a spontaneous gift? Or was it for their week anniversary? Did Eric always make a point of marking the occasion with a special, individualized gift, making each of his girlfriends feel special? Good thing he hadn’t given her actual sunflowers, or worse, another rose, that’d have been even more questionable. But no, she wasn’t going down that path again, not when she couldn’t just ask him.)
So when half an hour had passed and Cuddy shooed them out to the clinic, Amber did not make any attempt to linger or to stay with Eric. Whatever they had to discuss, they could do it tomorrow.