Page 151 of Sweet Caroline
In an addled daze, I hesitate.
“Clean it up.”
My tongue responds as if of its own volition, lapping andsucking at his fingers like they’re my last meal, the echoes of my orgasm still tripping through my core.
“God, your tongue…” His jaw clenches. “Fuck. See how good we taste?”
I nod, confirming I’ve lost my ever-loving mind.
When he finally releases me from all the restraints, he takes my hand and pulls me up from the chair. It’s an almost gentlemanly move, contrasting starkly with the way he just tied me up, fucked my mouth, and had me spit his cum onto my…
Jesus.Even the memory makes the heavy heat between my legs throb.
I’m still so out of it, I barely register him finding my discarded clothes and kneeling at my feet. The slight smirk on his face as he helps me step into my panties is almost more than I can bear. When he slowly slides them up, gently covering my swollen, slick center, I have to look away.
Too handsome.I might die—or come again—if I make direct eye contact.
I don’t know how, but we go through the motions of cleaning up and getting dressed in a haze—the kind of satisfied, sleepy warmth that makes me wish we could skip the rest of the event and bask in this bliss together for hours.
“You sure you don’t wanna call any of your old friends while we’re in the city?” I ask as he shrugs on his suit jacket.
“I’m sure,” he says as he buttons it. Closing the small distance between us, he tugs me closer by my waist. “Those friendships weren’t what I thought they were. Feels like a past life, and not one I wanna dredge back up, honestly.” He brushes a thumb over my cheek, then dips down to kiss me. “This right here is what I wanna focus on. My life with you.”
Despite my reluctance to leave our little bubble, Miles coaxes me out the door. The wet, sticky heat between my legs stirs the embers of my arousal with each step I take, every shift of my hipsreminding me of our dirty secret and his earnest promise of round two later tonight.
I soak up our last moments alone as the elevator whirs its way down to the main floor. Between the feeling of Miles’ big, warm hands on my back and the way he murmurs that he loves me with his lips smushed against my forehead, it’s hard to want anything but more of this. More ofhim.
Before I’m ready to face it, we step back into the fray of the bustling art show and make our way through the crowd.
Julian catches my eye and winds between the other patrons as he approaches. “Caroline.”
“Julian,” I say. “You remember Miles?”
“Right, yes.” Julian gives Miles a tight smile. “Nice to see you again. And, uh, apologies if we got off on the wrong foot when you first came to the gallery.”
“Oh, no, that’s—” Miles glances my way, looking slightly awkward, before returning his gaze to the older man as they shake hands. “All good. Nice to see you too.”
“Listen, Caroline,” Julian starts, returning his attention to me, “I wanted to say, you’ve done a wonderful job with the show tonight.”
“Oh,” I manage, trying to hide my surprise at the compliment, cutting my gaze to Miles when he squeezes my fingers. “Thank you. I mean, it’s been a team effort, really.”
“Well,” he says, “I’ll be eager to see your plans for the spring exhibition at the Gareth Mason.”
A grin splits my face; I can’t wait to show him what I’ve got up my sleeve—and introduce him to some unique new art. “Thank you, yes!” I finally manage, delighted and a bit thrown by the way he’s come around.
“Julian! There you are!” Sunny’s familiar voice comes from somewhere behind me and Miles. As we spin around, his elbow collides with the glass in her hand, sloshing its contents over therim. Half the drink spills onto Sunny and the rest splats onto the floor.
“Shit, sorry,” he says, wide-eyed. “I can, uh… I can get you another one.”
“Oh, it’s only water. I’ll live.” She waves him off.
A nearby volunteer snags a couple cocktail napkins and passes one to Sunny, who blots at her loose-fitting, flowy dress.
“Think we’ll need a few more for the floor,” Miles says, and the guy scurries off for reinforcements.
Sunny passes her glass to Julian, moving to pull off her many rings. “Caroline, darling, hold these for me, would you?”
“Oh! Uh, sure.” I collect them in my palm and give her a moment to pat her hands dry.
