Page 74 of Miles Apart
I’ve stared at her long enough to catch misdemeanors, so I remove her hand from my dick.
Does she feel the same way? Is she capable of opening her heart to let me in?
Emma cuddles against my chest, smearing drool. “Stay. Please.” The request is so faint that I doubt she realizes what she mumbled in her sleep. When she nuzzles into my side, I wrap an arm around her, kiss her hair, and close my eyes.
We have a lot to figure out, about us and our self-imposed deadline. I care for Emma, and I don’t want to hurt her. I’m also in over my head, swimming against a current of water I’ve never tread before.
Tonight, I hold her in my arms and get the best sleep of my life…after I slip away to pee.
Chapter 34
Emma
Miles cured my cramps and my weeklong dry spell coming home last night. I knew he would come back eventually—he’s staying here—but our relationship took a turn with his confessions.
We are inevitable.
We broke a lot of my rules between him spending the night in my house—a first for anyone—and period sex. He said he never sleeps over, but he could have fooled me with the way he held me against his frame like he didn’t want to lose me. I don’t do cuddling and will always gravitate to the farthest end of someone else’s bed.
That didn’t happen last night. I wanted Miles, every part of him, and couldn’t keep the surprise off my face when I woke up to find him watching me sleep. He stayed, with me and in my bed.
My pussy feels like it took a fastball in one of those batting cages. I fell asleep after our shower and the deep strokes that put me straight to bed. This morning was a different story. I checked Miles’s back for batteries the way he harpooned me. He’s not aone-minute man, but what I’d give to have time to recover from the horsepower between his legs. The towel we put down kept my bed from looking like a crime scene.
Muscles I didn’t know existed ache. I pride myself on setting the pace in the bedroom, but I’m a sore loser with the biggest grin this morning.
Miles would helicopter his dick in my face if I admitted he bested me. My confession is unnecessary given the way I go right to sleep after one of our triathlon fucks, but it’s the principle of the thing.
His phone buzzes for the third time in two minutes with the strength of my strongest vibrator. It’s facedown to conceal whoever keeps calling at six a.m. on a Friday. The phone goes silent before it dances across the nightstand again.
Miles feels around for the device, slapping everything but the phone until he picks it up. “What?” The pillow smothering his face filters the bass in his tone but not the irritation.
“Miles Devonte’ Walker! I know you didn’t answer the phone like that!” comes from the other end of the line before it goes silent.
He sits straight up with wide eyes he rubs. “Shit,” is all Miles says before his phone buzzes again. He hits a button on the screen and gives a tired smile on the video call. “Hey—”
“Don’theyme! I have half a mind to hop on a plane and see who you think you’re talking to with thatwhat.”
Miles chuckles and scrubs a hand over his face. “Ma, chill. I’m almost forty.”
“Boy, you ain’t too old for me to go upside your head. Keep playing with me, and I’ll stand on a chair to pop you good, with your tall ass. You still in bed?”
Miles scratches his goatee. “It’s six a.m. over here. How are you?”
They update each other about their week. Miles and Terrence’s mothers are gearing up for an eight-day cruise that leaves in a couple of days. It’s cute how they make a tradition out of traveling now that their sons retired them.
I manage to pull on a silk cami from my nightstand drawer and am halfway out the bed before Miles’s mother clears her throat.
“What is that?” she asks.
“Just Emma,” Miles says casually, like us in the same bed is old news.
There’s no way—
“Oh, can I speak to her?”
My eyes mushroom, and I dive under the covers. I flatten myself as much as humanly possible to blend in with the bedding, which is now shaking from Miles’s laughter.
“How does she know?” I whisper to Miles through a crack between the duvet and pillowcase. Miles is in my bed, bare-chested. It doesn’t take a detective to put two and two together. She’s too far away to smell the sex in the air, but my post-coital glow would be a dead giveaway.
