Page 73 of Miles Apart
Miles strips off his clothes, and we head to the shower. He covers my body under the spray and backs me up against the white tile wall. I writhe beneath him as his hands brush my nipples, exploring the soft lines of my breasts. He bites my lower lip, and I whimper, digging my nails into the muscular flesh of his ass.
Miles makes me melt.
Under him.
On him.
For him.
He breaks us apart in a groan when I yank him to me by the dick. “Emma.” His voice is hoarse, hanging on to the last thread of self-control. “You don’t feel well, kitten.”
I kiss his chest and tug again. “Put me to bed. Please.” I suck his lip into my mouth and rub his tip up my slit. Any cramp I had put itself in time-out the minute his length came out to play.
Miles turns serious, his warm brown eyes fixed on me. “I missed you.”
My fingertips sweep across his cheeks. “I missed you too.”
He leans into my touch and grazes his lips over my hand. We share a smile before Miles steps out of the shower to put on one of the condoms we keep around the house. My legs wrap around him, and I quiver when he slowly enters me. Heat ripples under my skin as his hands cup my thighs to deliver cautious strokes.
“You okay, kitten?” Miles rolls his hips and thrusts me against the wall.
“Yes.Right there!” I tighten my arms around his neck to brace for the first orgasm charging through my body.
“Shit, Em,” Miles says through gritted teeth, knocking at a spot that has my next orgasm on standby. He sucks on my neck and pistons into me. The slap of our skin carries over the steady hum of the shower. He lowers into a squat and pumps his hips to grind our pelvises together.
“Take every inch.” He kisses my slack jaw and curls me to suck on a nipple.
Passion pinches through my veins. I don’t remember how many times I cry out before I jerk in his arms. Miles’s thrusts turn erratic. His legs widen, and I grip his ass as he drives home.
“Fuck,” he groans, swirling his hips to draw out the last of his release.
Miles drops a kiss onto my nose. I’m not ashamed when he picks me up and puts me on the countertop to take care of the condom. He returns with a washcloth and cleans us up.
I vaguely remember him towel-drying me. I put in a tampon, brush my teeth, and run through my nightly skincare routine on autopilot.
Then I pass out once my face hits the pillow.
He really did put me to bed.
Chapter 33
Miles
Emma has me by the dick—figuratively and literally. I’m trying to slip out of her bed to pee, but every time I do, her hand darts straight to my shit with a baseball-bat grip. I will myself not to brick up, but my man is ready to go again, as am I.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper to the side of her face, like she can hear me through all that snoring. Em wasn’t kidding when she asked me to put her to bed. She’s out, mouth open, sounding like a construction site. It’s cute and oddly doesn’t grate on my nerves.
I don’t sleep with anyone, but tonight I’m breaking my rule, one of many I’ve already broken. Emma is different. She makes me want more time with her—even to listen to her engine-starting, snoring ass.
Brandice was never an option. I met her for one drink to make up for ditching her, told her goodnight, and watched a car take her wherever she went. We left it on a good note. Every woman I’ve dealt with was clear on what it was. I told myself until I get Emma out of my system, there won’t be anyone else. But after last night, I don’t want her out of my system. The truth is I never did.
Emma is my match. I felt it years ago but never understood the pull to her every time we were in the same vicinity. I avoided it as long as I could, not because I couldn’t develop feelings for her, but because I wasn’t sure if I could love her the way she needs to be loved.
Commitment doesn’t come natural to me, but I want to try for her. I haven’t got a fucking clue what I’m doing, but not having Emma close is no longer an option.
I tuck a loose curl behind her ear and smile at the thin line of drool falling from her plump lips. Emma would have a fit seeing herself so disheveled, but she’s never looked more beautiful.
She keeps herself together, always in some high-end outfit with heels and her hair, nails, and toes done. Tonight was the most casual I’d seen her, in that fluffy-ass robe with Justice’s name all over it. Now we’re both naked underneath the covers, and it’s a struggle to not imagine her in one of my shirts that would reach the tops of her thighs.
