Page 52 of Before This Ends (Before)

And if Winter didn’t choose that moment to come back into the bathroom to put her clothes in her hamper… I would have.

CHAPTER18

emma

Standing in the doorway of Miles’s place with him right at my side, the two of us watch Winter run down the hall to Tucker’s door and knock.

When the door opens, Miranda’s eyes widen as she takes in Winter’s new haircut. “I love your hair.”

“Thank you.” Winter gives her a hug, then rushes past her and into the apartment, and she watches her go, shouting Kingston’s name.

Turning back to face us, her grin is sly as her gaze pings between Miles and me.

“Do you two want to come over for pizza?”

“No,” Miles says so quickly I don’t have a chance to even open my mouth to reply, and my best friend’s smile turns knowing.

“Okay, have fun.” She winks, shutting the door.

Cheeks feeling hot, I follow Miles back into his place. Closing the door and locking it, he turns to face me, not saying a word, just watching me. Those butterflies I had when I got here this evening and he looked at me like he was the Big Bad Wolf and I was the unsuspecting Little Red Riding Hood are back, flying at full force, making me feel nauseous.

I need him to do or say something to remind me that I know him, that I don’t have a reason to be nervous around him. Not that I’m even sure a joke or a familiar look from him would make a difference right now. There is a tension between us that wasn’t here before, like a rubber band stretched too far and on the verge of snapping.

“Um….” I shift on my heels and glance around. A stupid move, because he takes the opportunity to catch me off guard. One second, he’s standing feet away. The next, he’s in my space, his hands cupping my face, and his mouth is on mine.

Just like the first time he kissed me, I get dizzy as he overwhelms each of my senses. Fingers curling into the material of his shirt at his sides I hold on to keep standing and whimper when his teeth nip my bottom lip. Body overheating and starved for oxygen, I gasp for breath when his mouth leaves mine and travels across my jaw to my ear. His hands leave my face, one sliding into my hair, the other gliding down my back and over my bottom, pausing there to squeeze.

I moan, digging my fingers into his sides. His mouth finds mine once more, his tongue licking in, the slow, sensual slide causing my core to pulse. I thought the last time he kissed me ruined me. I was wrong. I don’t think I will ever recover from this kiss.

His hand on my bottom slides down, his fingers gathering the material of my dress on its descent, then the warmth of his palm is on the bare skin of the back of my thigh. The noise he makes deep in his throat when he comes in contact with the lace I’m wearing sends a new wave of arousal through my bloodstream.

Walking me backward, his big body curves over mine, and I don’t realize where he’s leading me until I’m off my feet and my ass is cold from the marble counter beneath me. In this new position, with his hips snug against mine, I feel just how turned on he is, how huge he feels.

My core clenches, and I force my hand free from between us so I can get my fingers in his hair. It’s thick and soft, but I lose hold of it when his hand moves to my thigh and under the skirt of my dress. My breath catches in the back of my throat, the anticipation of him touching me where I’m literally aching makes me forget my need for oxygen.

A shiver travels across my skin when his fingers skim the lace covering me, the simple contact sending my pulse racing. Then they drag back down, and I lose his mouth when my head falls back to my shoulders. Sucking in a frantic breath, I dig my fingers into his biceps and my heels into his ass. He groans, sliding the lace aside, and the sound is so deep, so desperate, it causes my very cells to vibrate.

“Miles?”

“I’m right fucking here.” His fingers move between my folds, sweeping right up my center.

“Oh God.” I right my head, and his eyes that are dark with desire lock on mine.

“Fuck, Emma,” he groans, his forehead coming to rest against mine. “You’re so goddamn wet.”

I am. I’m soaked, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on in my life, and if I weren’t so on edge, I might be embarrassed by my body’s reaction to his kiss and touch. His fingers slide down, and my muscles go taut as I wait for the inevitable. Only, he doesn’t do what I expect. Instead, he circles my entrance with the tip of one finger, I lose hold of his biceps and grip the edge of the counter tight.

“I was just going to kiss you, so you’d get out of your head.” Finally, one finger enters me slowly, and my back arches. “Now, I’m trying to convince myself not to fuck you right here.”

Panting, with his mouth almost pressed against mine, the slow, sensual slide of one finger that becomes two causes my eyes to fall closed. I’ve always had a difficult time getting to completion with a partner, but just this—his fingers, his breath mingling with my own, the words coming out of his mouth—has me teetering on the edge of something huge. My fingertips tingle from how tightly I’m holding onto the counter, my inner muscles fluttering as tension spreads through every inch of my body. My scalp prickles, thigh muscles shake, and breath catches.

“Please don’t stop,” I whimper against his mouth, and he growls something I can’t make out over the sound of blood rushing through my ears.

Just like that, the knot of tension in my lower belly snaps.

His name leaves my mouth on a cry, and he drinks it down, covering my mouth with his. My thighs clamp onto his hips, stars dance behind my closed eyelids, and a wave of heat washes over my body as his fingers continue to ride me through the most intense orgasm of my life.

Slumping forward, I lose his mouth and tuck my face against his neck as I pant, and his arms go around me, holding me steady. I’m useless. My limbs feel like Jell-O, and my brain is filled with a euphoric fog.

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