“You don’t know?”
I tried to think of a way to explain it. “Well, you know how you have a favorite pair of sweat pants or something, and they’re really comfortable and feel good every time you put them on?”
“Uh, I guess so.”
“Well, sex with Dan was sort of like that.”
“Like sweat pants?”
“Yeah, you know—something comfortable and familiar that feels good. Does that make sense?”
“I guess so, but if any woman ever said sex with me was like sweat pants, I’d fucking shoot myself.”
“Well, I didn’t know any better, OK? We both had orgasms, so I figured we were doing fine, but clearly we weren’t, because he went elsewhere to get what he really wanted, and I…” I stopped, unsure of how to finish the sentence.
“You what?” In front of my chest, Miles linked his fingers with mine.
I’m having way more fun—and way better orgasms—with you than I ever had with him. But I couldn’t say that. Miles would probably freak out and think I wanted him to be my next boyfriend or something. And I didn’t want that. I knew we were just friends doing this for the hell of it, enjoying the kick. For all I knew, sex with Miles would become routine after a while too.
Although that didn’t seem possible.
“You what?” he prompted again.
“I’m learning things about myself.” I grinned at him over my shoulder. “You’re a good teacher.”
“And what have you learned so far?”
“Hmmmm.” I settled back against his chest. “I like it when you say dirty things to me.”
“Good.”
“I like when you get bossy with me.”
“Even better.”
“I think I might like to get bossy with you sometime.”
“Sweetheart, you can boss me hard and often.”
I giggled. “Wash my hair. Now.”
“Not exactly what I meant, but OK,” he said, reaching for the plastic container. “Sit up.”
I sat up and crossed my legs, tipping my head back. “Like that?”
“Yes. Perfect.” He poured water over my head and shampooed my hair, massaging my scalp as I sighed contentedly. When the conditioner was on, I turned around.
“Your turn.”
He let me wash his hair, and I giggled as I sudsed him up. “You should get a mohawk,” I said, forming one on the top of his head.
“No, thanks.”
“Or grow a grizzly beard.” I scooped up some bubbles and spread them around on his face, covering it completely. “There. Big improvement.”
He lunged for me, trying to smear bubbles on my face, and pushing a huge tidal wave over the edge of the tub in the process. I squealed and fought back, suds and water flying everywhere. He ended up cradling me across his lap, but instead of dunking me, he kissed me, sealing our wet mouths together. I looped one arm around his back and one around his neck, my belly flip-flopping as his hand moved up my ribcage. He teased my nipple with his thumb, making it harden and tingle.
“Ever had an orgasm in this bathtub?” he whispered, his hand moving lower.
“No.” I gasped, my stomach quivering as his fingers rubbed soft little circles below my belly button and spiraled down to just above my clit.
“I love giving you firsts,” he said, keeping his hand in that spot, making me yearn for him to go lower.
I closed my eyes and opened my legs, my body relaxed and humming. “I only wish there were some firsts left for me to give you. You’ve done everything already.”
He stopped moving and shook me gently. “Hey.”
I opened my eyes and saw that his expression was serious.
“Everything is different with you. Everything feels like a first.”
“Is that good?”
He smiled, making my heart skip. “Yes. It is.” Sliding a finger inside me, he lowered his lips to my ear. “Now be a dirty little slut and tell me to make you come.”
• • •
“Want to stay over?” I asked Miles as we dried off. “I can finish packing my bag and we can leave first thing in the morning.”
“Sure.” He shook his head like a wet puppy, flinging droplets at me. In fact, the entire bathroom was a mess. Water was everywhere.
“I’d better mop up this floor.” I hung up my towel and reached for a dry one on the shelf.
“I’ll do it. You pack.”
“Seriously?” I smiled happily. Holy crap, Dan would never have offered to clean up that mess. “Hey, do I need to pack a dress and heels for any reason?”
“Definitely.” He knelt down and started sopping up the water.
“Oooh, what’s the reason?” I asked, clasping my hands together.
“Sometimes I like wearing a woman’s shoes while I fuck her.” He looked back at me and rolled his eyes at my stunned expression. “Because I want to take you somewhere nice, Natalie. Jeez.”
“Oh. Sorry,” I said, laughing. “But with you I never know.”
I finished packing my bag, adding a white strapless sundress and some nude heels, a bathing suit, and my camera. When I was done, I went into the bathroom and pulled an extra toothbrush from my vanity and offered it to Miles. “Want this?”
“Yes, thank you.”
We brushed our teeth side by side at my sink, Miles in his boxer briefs and me in boy shorts and a tank. As our eyes met in the mirror, I felt a funny little flutter in my chest. For all his egotistical jokes and promiscuous ways and his complete refusal to seriously commit to anything except ink, he really was being very sweet to me. He’d make a good boyfriend or husband if he ever decided to get serious. Too bad he’s content to be a man-child his whole life. He’s got a lot to offer someone besides just sex.
He finished up and caught my eye in the mirror. “You look funny when you brush your teeth.”
So much for sweet. I spit and rinsed. “Shut up, I do not.”
“You do, and you get toothpaste all over your face. Look at you, you’re a mess.” He grabbed a hand towel and smashed it over my mouth, tucking me under his arm. “I could make a mess on your face.”
“OK. That’s it.” I took the towel, threw it down, and took him by the shoulders. “You’ve threatened me enough times with a mess. You should fucking do it already.” I marched him backward into my room and pushed him down onto the bed.
“Is this you bossing me around?” he asked, leaning back on his elbows as I yanked his underwear off.
“Yes.”
He grinned. “I like it already.”
I woke up feeling rested and happy, Miles’s arm still curved over my belly, the sheet pulled up to our hips. Smiling, I stayed wrapped up in him a few more minutes before carefully sliding out of bed to use the bathroom. When I came back into my room, he was on his back, one arm over his head. I snickered at his hairy armpit, his messy hair, the scratches on his shoulders. I’d be surprised if there weren’t teeth marks too. I’d been a little out of control last night.
But holy hell, it had been fun. The most fun I’d ever had in bed—and I had three more days of it to look forward to. Three days of guilt-free, uncommitted, mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex. Beyond that, I didn’t even care.
I poked Miles in the shoulder. “Wake up, sleepyhead. You talked me into a road trip and I’m ready to go!”
“Oh God, what time is it? How can you get up so early?”
“It’s not early, it’s nine already!”
He groaned, but he sat up and blinked. “I need my glasses. Where the hell did I leave them?”
“In the glove box of your car,” I said, already heading into my closet. “Let me throw some clothes on and grab them while you wake up.”
“Thanks. Keys are on the table in your front hall.”
I put on denim shorts and a soft white t-shirt and tugged my Converse sneakers on my feet. Snagging the keys off the table near the door—my belly cartwheeling at the memory of my back against it—I went outside and practically skipped to the Jeep in the sunshine. What a perfect day to start my vacation.
Ten minute later, Miles had loaded my bag in the car and we were on our way to his house so he could pack. I suggested stopping by Coffee Darling for a couple cups to go, but Miles saw through my plan to check up on things, and we hit Starbucks instead.