Page 37 of Atlas & Miles
“My god, baby boy,” he swallowed, gasping. “You fuck me so well.”
My cheeks heated. “Thanks, Daddy.”
They smiled up at me. “How about another shower, a bedtime spanking, and then bed, hmm?”
I grinned. I wasn’t going to say no to that.
Chapter eleven
Atlas
Mid April
It had been a month since the cock cage incident, my first scene with Miles, and his infamous raspberry rant—and two weeks since our memorable weekend in Atlanta—and we’d seen each other almost every day. We spent most nights together, too, though the cloak-and-dagger routine was starting to get a little stale.
I’d never been in the closet, so I hadn’t had to hide boyfriends from my mom when I lived at home, though having sex was another issue entirely. I’d spent a fair amount of time in the backseat of a car at Yellow Branch Falls, a popular make-out spot. I’d actually lost my virginity there.
This sneaking around with Miles felt similar. The good thing about now, though, was that we were adults with our own homes, and both of our houses were fairly secluded. So with a bit of intention, we were able to avoid nosy neighbors and stay out of the small-town grapevine.
Skullduggery aside, I was loving our time together. He was the perfect boy for me. He was so responsive, especially when I laid into his sexy ass, and his talent for fucking was unmatched. I’d even played pillow princess a few times, let him do all the work, and I’d felt so spoiled.
Other times, I rode him, edging him with my delectable ass until he was fisting the sheets and sweating as he tried to hold back his orgasm. I loved having that kind of effect on him, loved how easily he gifted me with his submission.
I cherished it.
How’s it going with your boy?
I tapped into Anson’s text with a smile, taking a break from creating the latest ad for Jeb’s Landscaping. We’d already seen returns from the last one I’d sent out, so I was feeling optimistic about this next one.
Swimmingly. He’s perfect and adorable and hot as fuck.
He sent me back a laughing emoji.Glad to hear it. Have you asked him to the reunion yet?
Shit. I bit my lip, staring at Anson’s fair but annoying question. He’d only asked because I’d told him—when I’d had one-too-many vodka sodas one night—that I wanted to ask Miles to the reunion next month as my date. Hell, I wanted to officially date him, take him out here in town and show him off. But none of that was going to happen as long as Miles was still in the closet.
We hadn’t talked about it at all since getting together, but since he hadn’t brought it up, I figured the decision to keep his secret had been made.
I sighed, scrubbing my hands through the hair I’d dyed a subtle purple last week. When Miles first saw it, he’d combed his fingers through it, pulled me to him, and kissed me senseless until we were both naked on his bed. He’d gone down on me first, swallowed every bit of my spend like the good cum sluthe was, then wore my gold lipstick on his cock for a full hour following his own orgasm. I’d deliberately made him stay dirty—and naked—for me, forbidding him from washing the lipstick off.
I loved messing him up and making him wear evidence of me on his body. And though it was much too soon, I was starting to think I was getting close to lovinghim.
With another sigh, I tapped out a response.Not yet. We’ll probably have to go as friends, anyway. I don’t think he’s ready to come out.
Have you asked him that?
Anson’s second direct question hit me right between the eyes. Fuck, some Daddy I was. Assuming things was the antithesis of a healthy relationship, say nothing of responsible kink, and I’d done just that. His lack of talking about coming out didn’t mean he wasn’t ready or even that he hadn’t been considering it.
Shit. I’d failed him.I haven’t. Guess I should ASAP.
Good boywas his response.
I sent him the middle finger emoji and added aFuck offfor good measure. I hated when he was right and flaunted it . . . because he always did.
He just sent a gif of one of our favorite celebrity Chrises cracking up.Love you, boo.
I rolled my eyes but sent back a quickLove you back.
Setting my phone face down on my desk, I rubbed my eyes—I’d used my waterproof mascara and skipped liner and eyeshadow today—then turned back to my computer to finish up the ad and the dozen other things I needed to get done today before heading home. Miles was already planning to come over with takeout for dinner and to spend the night, so I supposed tonight would be our opportunity to talk.
