Page 91 of Resisting the Running Back

He teases my nipple with his tongue, and then he licks his way up my neck until his mouth is back on mine.

He kisses me as he uses his thumb to continue the intense pleasure he’s giving my tits, and then he lets go of me there to let his hand trail down to the hem of my dress. He reaches beneath it and seeks out the edge of my panties only to find that I went without them tonight. Again. For him. To give him easier access. I knew that this moment was coming and that eventually I would be, too.

He growls softly into my ear as he slips a finger inside me, and it takes everything in me not to cry out with the intense feel of his finger when it’s all I’ve needed all day.

“Fuck me, Miller,” I whisper.

Maybe it’s the illicit nature of being in this cabana rather than in the privacy of our stateroom, but there’s something so hot about being in here with him where really anybody walking by could catch us.

They won’t. Nobody would actually open a closed cabana. But they could, and I think it might be the thought of that exhibitionism that’s so hot to me.

He pulls a condom out of his pocket and fumbles with his pants as he mutters. “Always prepared.”

“Just like a boy scout,” I murmur with a little chuckle.

“There’s nothing boyish about what I’m going to do to you.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. Now give it to me like the man you are,” I beg, and he laughs this wild, maniacal laugh as he pushes into me.

I’ve never been in a relationship where sex could be asfunas it could beserious. It was always so serious. But Miller somehow makes everything fun, too, and I think that’s part of what’s so addictive about being with him in this way.

He’s driving into me in this cabana, and it’s all I can do to lie back and take it quietly in case anyone is walking by outside.

And just as I have that thought, we both hear voices.

“Quick, before someone sees,” a female voice says, and I’m almost positive it’s Missy.

Miller stills inside me, and we both freeze so we’re not caught.

Honestly, I was too caught up in the moment to think that maybe another couple would bolt from the dinner table as quickly as we did.

We’re quiet as we listen to the sounds beside us, and it just feels…wronghaving sex somewhere where two older people so close in relation to us are doing who knows what in there.

It would be one thing for one of Miller’s half-brothers to catch us. Parents? That’s another story.

“Let’s go to our room,” I whisper, and he slips out of me as he nods.

The ache between my legs is downright unbearable as he pushed me so damn close to release, and Miller must be suffering, too, as he zips himself back into his pants.

I cross my fingers that we don’t run into anybody we know as we quietly but quickly exit our cabana and start the long, long walk back to our stateroom.

The coast is not clear.

We have to walk right past the casino that Lincoln, Jolene, Asher, and Desi are all standing out in front of with drinks in their hands and no children with them.

“Kid-free date night!” Jolene tells us as we walk by them. “Want to join us? We’re going to play blackjack and get drunk!”

Miller laughs as he says, “Kid free and you’re going to the casino with your brother instead of taking your wife up to your stateroom for some privacy? Good score, man.” He punches Asher lightly in the shoulder and elbows Lincoln, and I don’t know how the hell he can be so casual as he teases his brothers with a condom-encased, very hard cock that’s likely also pretty wet since he was just inside me and I was wetter than a waterslide in peak season.

But here we are.

His brothers laugh at the ribbing, and they’re still waiting for us to answer if we want to join them.

“We have plans,” Miller says to Jolene. “But thanks for the invitation.”

Jolene nods with a knowing smile, and we barely get a goodbye out over our shoulders as we continue making our way toward our stateroom.

It feels like it takes fifty years to get there, and maybe it’s because he stops halfway down our hall, pushes me up against the wall, and plants his lips on mine. It’s a steamy, passionate kiss—the kind that just couldn’t wait until we got back to ourroom. His hips buck to mine, and I let out a little moan, which seems to be the signal that we need to get moving.

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