Page 33 of Deception & Daylight
“Damn, Wildcat. That’s filthy as fuck.” Miles’ voice is a low rumble in my ear, bringing me back to reality. His breath fans over my neck as he begins to read aloud.
“ ‘Max, I need you,’ I breathe, my body betraying me in the worst way as I give in and let go of every inhibition. I shouldn’t want him. Can’t want him. His hand trails down my stomach, gliding past the waistband of my skirt. My breath hitches as he reaches the apex of my thighs, sliding his fingers through the wetness that’s gathered there. “You’re so fucking wet for me, baby.’ ”
“Stop.” The demand is formless and hollow as my voice holds little conviction. Ignoring the hot, prickling sensation racing up my spine, I place the typewriter down on the seat and stand toe to toe with Miles. A combination of his proximity and the filthy words on his tongue leaves me equal parts irritated and turned on. “It’s rude to sneak up on people,” I say dryly, jabbing my finger into the the hard planes of his muscled chest.
“It’s rude to write smut out in the open where anybody could read it,” he retorts, grasping my hand in his and flattening it over his heart. The rhythm beneath my palm is erratic, and I wonder if he’s just as affected as I am.
“It’s hardly public. There’s nobody else here, asshole.”
His mouth tips up at the corner as I pin him with a glare.“Funny. I guess that makes me nobody, then.”
“Sure seems like it,” I deadpan.
He leans in close, his woodsy scent surrounding me as he buries his face in my hair. Whispering close to my ear, he says, “Judging by the flush in your cheeks and the goosebumps on your arms, you don’t really mean that. Tell me, Mags — who do you picture when you write your filthy little stories?”
An involuntary wave of heat washes over me, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from leaning into him. Gazing at me steadily, he says, “At night, when I’m all alone, I think about you.” There’s a playful lilt to his voice that makes me want to slap him, or consume him — it’s hard to tell which urge is stronger, but the confession knocks me off my axis and I stumble slightly on my feet. He catches me between two strong arms, steadying me. “I wonder how it would feel to be on top of you; inside you. What sounds you would make for me. How you’d scream my name when you fall apart on my tongue.”
I close my eyes so he can’t see how much I want him; how much I long to feel his lips on mine. “You shouldn’t.” My voice is barely audible beneath the erratic beating of my heart. One thing I’m not is vulnerable, but standing here, with Miles looking at me like he wants to devour me, my confidence is wavering. The sheer intensity of this man is slowly chipping away at my defenses, and I’m dangerously close to letting him see beyond my carefully crafted facade.
“Can’t help it. I’ve wanted you for years, Mags.”
I inhale a sharp breath as his words sink deep into my chest, leaving behind a dull ache. It’s a confession, raw and terrifying in equal measure. After everything we’ve been through — everythingI’vebeen through — I shouldn’t still want him. But I’m not sure I ever had a choice in the matter. His fingers tangle in my hair, gently tugging on the strands. “You can’t say things like that,” I whisper.
“Why not?” his breath fans over my lips as he speaks the words like a prayer. My chest heaves, but I don’t dare open my eyes for fear of what I’ll see in his.
“Because… I hate you.” My words are unconvincing, even to my own ears. The anger I felt for Miles faded long ago, but I’ve been caught between the need to hold on to that resentment and the desire to let him in.
“No. You don’t,” he whispers.
No I don’t.
His lips ghost over mine, waiting for permission. When I don’t pull away, he tugs me hard against him and deepens the kiss, his tongue darting out, begging for entry. I instantly open for him, and he takes my mouth in a searing kiss that steals the last threads of my resistance and sends me reeling.
His lips are hot and demanding as my body arches into him, bringing us flush against one another, our hands exploring each other in a heated dance. An involuntary whimper escapes me when he nips at my bottom lip, wrenching me out of the moment and reminding me of all the reasons this is wrong. I shove him back, one hand flying to my mouth as the other clutches at my chest, attempting to steady my breathing. With my eyes squeezed shut, I retreat into myself, my mind a jumbled mess of emotions.What the fuck just happened?
Miles
I pace the floor, hands raking through my unkempt hair, heart racing. I fucked up. I open my mouth to apologize but she cuts me off. “Don’t,” she says. “This can’t happen.Wecan’t happen.”
“Mags,” the reverent way I say her name has her glancing up at me through her lashes, and I ache tohold her in my arms again.
“No, Miles. I… I can’t do this.” Her eyes are glassy as she sinks down onto the window seat, her expression filled with anguish, a silent plea for me to walk away. What she doesn’t realize is I’ll never walk away from her. I need her like air.She’s becoming essential to me in the most profoundly terrifying way.
I nod in understanding, but inside I’m dying to pull her to me. Now that I know what it’s like to kiss Maggie Watson, there’s no going back. It’s like she’s rewired my brain chemistry with a formula only she can solve.
I take a seat across from her in one of the armchairs and sigh. She glances out the window, arms wrapped around her legs in a protective way that makes my chest ache for everything she’s endured. A wave of regret washes over me when I realize I’ve just become another asshole who took something from her without her consent.Fuck, I’m a piece of shit.
Leaning forward, I brace my elbows on my knees and stare at the floor. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”
“No. It’s fine, Miles. I… wanted you to. It’s just…”
When she stops speaking, I finally glance up from the floor, eyes tracking the tears spilling over her lashes. I can almost hear the crack as the last threads of my resistance snap against the need to comfort her. Unable to stop myself this time, I reach out and pull her with me, settling her between my thighs on the window seat she’s made a home in this past week. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here.”
I’m always here. I don’t usually spend so much time at the inn, but every repair I’ve been putting off for months is suddenly a priority just to get a glimpse of the girl who’s burrowed herself into the very fabric of my being, whether she realizes it or not.
Physically, she’s healing. The bruises have faded and the scar above her brow is nothing more than a faint white line, but she’s hiding herself away, shutting the world out. I know she’s trying to piece herself together in the only way she knows how, but I’m worried she’s doing more harm than good. Maggie needs her people — and fuck if I don’t want to be included in that list. Iwantto be hers as much as Ineedher to be mine.
Her gentle sniffles turn into all out sobs as she gives in to my embrace, body heaving as she lets a flood of emotions take over. It’s agonizing to see her like this, but in some sick, twisted way, it fills me with pride to know she feels safe enough to let her guard down. I don’t speak; I wouldn’t know what to say if I did.
