Page 40 of Deception & Daylight
Matty’s jaw ticks before he throws his brother one final barb. “Remember our agreement.”
The door slams on its hinges as Matty storms out the back entrance and before I can question what the fuck he meant, Miles has me wrapped in his arms, his huge hand palming the back of my head and I swear I feel his lips on my hair as he inhales.
I shudder thinking about what might have happened if he hadn’t gotten to me in time. I need to stop being so fucking helpless. Damsel in distress is not something I ever wanted to become. Maybe it’s time to find a self-defense class.
Matty’s vague threat looms heavy over the rest of my evening, so we call it an early night with Miles offering to give me a ride back to the inn. Against my better judgment, and with little hope this evening will take a turn for the better, I agree. The weight of the last few weeks sinks in as I slump in the passenger seat of his truck, watching the buildings blur outside the window. The soft hum of an unfamiliar country song fills the silence, Miles murmuring the lyrics under his breath — I never took him for someone who’d sing along to the radio but the gentle hum is almost soothing.
The moment we pull up to the inn barely registers, and before I know it I’m being helped out of the truck by two strong hands gripping my waist.
Something unspoken passes between us as he follows me up the steps. His knee bumps against mine as we settle on the porch swing, the sound of crickets filling the silence as a slight chill settles in my bones. He wraps his light blue button down around my shoulders and pulls me into his side in a tender gesture that nearly steals the breath from my lungs.
“Tell me more about your books,” he whispers.
I sigh. “About that. Can we keep that between us? I’m not ready for everyone to know about it.”
Miles shifts to face me, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Why? You should be so fucking proud of yourself.”
“What do you know about my books, anyway?” I ask, holding back a smile.
“I may have read a few reviews here and there.”
There’s something he’s not saying. “And?”
“And maybe I read a few chapters of ‘Love Between Loathing’.”
“How many is a few?”
He has the audacity to look sheepish when he says, “All of it.”
Unrestrained laughter bursts out of me as I consider the implications. Miles Barlow read my debut novel — the one I wrote after he shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces. Fuck my life. My cheeks heat as I recall a particularly spicy chapter involving a hand necklace and gratuitous use of the words “good girl”.
Miles shifts on the swing, his hand cradling my cheek as he tilts my head to meet his gaze. “You’re an incredible writer, Mags.” Of all the things I expected him to say, that simple statement wasn’t even on my radar. Serious moments with Miles are few and far between, and I’ll never admit that I enjoy our playful banter more than I should, but this sweet version of him has me tied up in knots.
“Thank you. But please don’t tell anyone. Not yet.”
“My lips are sealed. Besides, I don’t know how I’d explain the raging boner I popped in the middle of the trailer surrounded by my crew during our lunch break while I was reading chapter fifteen on my phone.” His confession leaves me breathless as I dissolve into a fit of giggles right there on the front porch of his mother’s inn, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“I’m glad you think it’s funny. It took a well placed tool belt and a trip to the bathroom to get things under control. I couldn’t even look at Luca for the rest of the day.”
I sniffle, swiping away the dampness on my cheeks. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m good.”
Miles plucks me out of my seat and onto his lap, one leg on each side of his hips. “What’s so funny, Mags? The very public boner? Or the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about wrapping my hand around your pretty little neck while I fucked your face and called you my good girl?”
My pussy clenches as his gravelly voice leaves a trail of goosebumps along my flesh. His hand takes position exactly as he described, and I long for him to tighten his grip ever so slightly. He leans over, his lips barely a breath away from my ear. “Would you like that, pretty girl? You want to choke on my dick?”
I can’t seem to form words as I inhale a shaky breath, my hips instinctively rolling against the growing bulge in his jeans. He groans with my movement. “Bet you’d look so goddamn pretty with tears streaming down your cheeks while you tried to take all of me to the back of your throat.”
He palms my hips, guiding my movements over his lap, eliciting a filthy moan from my slightly parted lips. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head to the sky and sigh, each thrust of his hips into my core sending me reeling. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“That’s it. Use me.”
He grips me tighter, speeding up my motions and I know I’ll have new bruises on my hips tomorrow — ones I chose; ones I’m not ashamed of. All thoughts evaporate as he brings me to the brink of orgasm, but before I can take the plunge into pure bliss, I freeze. “Daylight.”
He stills, the heat in his eyes replaced by concern as he sweeps the hair out of my face, cupping my cheeks. “What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.” I feel exposed under his scrutiny, as though he can see the cracks in my carefully crafted facade.
“I… I can’t.” I choke back a sob, holding my emotions at bay as he kisses me softly, reverently. My chest heaves and I lean my forehead against his shoulder while he fixes my clothing. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, stroking a hand over my hair and down my spine before trailing back up, repeating the motion. It feels like he’s carefully stitching me back together, and that soothes me in a way I never expected.
Finally relaxed after a night rifle with tension, I let him hold me, soaking in his warmth. Time passes in a blur; minutes, maybe hours, fade away until I’m being carefully lifted into the air and deposited in my bed with a gentle forehead kiss, the soft click of the bedroom door telling me I’m alone. My heart sinks at the sudden realization that maybe I’m tired of being alone. Maybe I want someone to finally see me. Choose me. Keep me.
