Page 72 of Catching Feelings

?CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ROWAN

I had sex with Miles Buckingham. Holy crap. I had sex with Miles Buckingham. I let out a quiet scream and shimmy as I dance in the shower. My elbow hits the wall and I slow down my ridiculous dance, hoping I didn’t wake Miles.

The man is a machine. His body is built, which the whole world is aware of. Okay, maybe not world, but anyone who watches football. But up close and personal? I tip my face into the stream of water and rinse away the suds from my hair as I let out a sigh.

He worked my body over last night. In the best of ways. The orgasms were off the chart. Three in the first go-around. My body was spent and numb from exhaustion in the best of ways. Oh, the very best of ways.

When he woke me a few hours ago with his erection rubbing against my ass cheeks, I didn’t even pretend to be asleep. His arm had been draped over my middle, holding me close to his chest, and his fingers dropped to my center. I was embarrassingly wet when he fingered me, and after bringing me to orgasm—my fourth of the night—he slipped inside me.

Well, maybe not slipped. It still took a lot of effort and self-control for him to bury himself deep. The man is a giant. I guess the old adage is true. The size of a man’s hands and feet are a good determining factor to the size of his penis.

He made love to me slowly, bringing me to another orgasm—my fifth, in case you lost track—then with some sort of magic, he stayed buried deep inside me while flipping me to all fours, and pounded me from behind.

It was rough. It was primal. It was so good. I buried my face into my pillows and was about to have my sixth orgasm when my bed collapsed.

I giggle under the rain of the shower at the memory. It’s not like I have the sturdiest of beds to begin with. A simple bed frame and the cheapest mattress I could find from a discount store.

Even when the frame gave out and the mattress was out of sorts, Miles didn’t let up until we both came at the same time. He collapsed on me, bringing the mattress completely to the floor.

I’ve never laughed during or after sex, but in the wee hours of the morning, tired and drunk on orgasms, I couldn’t help my fit of giggles. Miles was all laughter as well while he cleaned us both up.

We fell back asleep, not bothering to fix the bed frame or mattress. When my alarm went off fifteen minutes ago, he didn’t budge. I suppose playing in an NFL game, then having sex, twice, will knock a guy out.

I finish in the shower and am extra quiet as I work my way around the mattress to my dresser. I take my clothes into the bathroom and dress in my work scrubs. Not wanting to wake him with my hair dryer, I put some product in my hair then twist it into a bun on the top of my head.

Just in case he wakes before I leave, I dab on some blush, eyeliner and mascara, then head to the kitchen for some much needed caffeine. I brew a pot and pack a yogurt, banana, and bag of pretzels in my lunchbox. Eyeing the leftover Chinese, I toss the extra egg roll in there as well.

I’ve never had a guy stay the night in my apartment before, and I’m not sure what the SOP is for this morning. Do I leave Miles a note? Wake him and make him leave when I do?

A note seems too impersonal after last night. He skipped out on going out with his friends to spend time with me. He treated me to Chinese, went for a walk, and didn’t push me into having sex with him.

I’m so thankful I was strong enough to ask him to stay. Last night was incredible. Perfect. Wonderful. Amazing. Miles is so much more than what he appears to be on the surface.

Needing at least one more glimpse of him, I set my bag and coffee down and tiptoe to my bedroom. He’s still out cold. Hasn’t moved since I slid out of bed thirty minutes ago. Maybe I shouldn’t wake him. He had a long day yesterday.

I can’t resist one more kiss, so I drop to my knees and place a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Mm,” he groans, and a strong arm reaches out, pulling me on top of him. “Mm.” Miles tucks my face in his neck and kisses my cheek. “Smell good.”

His voice is deep and raw with sleep and never sounded sexier.

“I have to go.”

“No.” He holds me tighter into him and I feel his erection lengthening under me.

“Miles. I have to go to work.”

“Mm.” This time the grumble sounds more like a moan. He rolls us and he must have forgotten about the bed because I’m flat on my back on the floor and his heavy weight presses into me. “Missed you.”

“You couldn’t miss me if you were sound asleep. I could have left for work and you’d be none the wiser.”

“Not a chance.”

“Mhm.” I giggle when he pinches my hip. “I really have to go.”

Miles rolls us back onto the bed and sits up so I’m straddling him. “I’ll drive you to work.”

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