As she rocked her hips over me, moving at just the angle and rhythm she wanted, I buried my face in her tits and tried to pace myself. But my usual tricks weren’t working. I couldn’t concentrate on anything that wasn’t sexy—for fuck’s sake, who could? And then she started talking. Talking!
“God, Miles, fucking you is like nothing I have ever felt.”
“Yeah?” Giving up on holding back, I grabbed her hips and watched her. Her skin was flushed and warm, her breathing fast, and I prayed she was as close to orgasm as I was. “Tell me.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it. All day yesterday I felt like a fiend because I just couldn’t wait to get you inside me. I couldn’t wait for you to make me come again.”
My cock pulsed with need. “Oh, Jesus.” Reaching between us, I rubbed my thumb over her clit in tight little circles. “I love making you come. I love watching it. I love feeling it happen.”
“Yes!” she cried, her eyes closing, her body thrashing above mine. “It’s so good—I can’t—I can’t—”
I could tell she was right there, and I was about to explode, so I lifted my hips, pushing even deeper inside her and she screamed so loud, I thought the walls shook, or maybe it was the climax that thundered through my body at that moment, paralyzing me as I came inside her in powerful, surging throbs.
When the tremors subsided, she pitched forward and collapsed on my chest, her skin warm and soft.
I ran my hands up and down her back. “I like when you take control.”
She laughed softly. “Me too.”
Our breathing synced, and I was lulled by the feeling of our lungs and chests moving in tandem. Again, I closed my eyes and wished that things were different. That I trusted myself not to be an asshole to her. That I was the kind of guy who’d pick a place and settle down, like she had. Be a husband. Be a father. Be a grown up.
How the fuck did you even go about it?
And did she even want that from me?
I had no idea, and I was too scared to ask.
What if the answer was no?
After we got dressed, Miles drove to the grocery store and I filled the cart with healthy staples for his pantry and refrigerator, some chicken breasts and ground beef he could store in the freezer, some deli items, a loaf of bread, and plenty of fruits and vegetables. “I’ll leave you some easy recipes, OK? That way you’re not eating junk all the time.”
“Cinnamon buns. Cinnamon buns. Cinnamon buns,” he panted as he pushed the cart.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. OK, I’ll grab the ingredients for buns. Want some bacon and eggs with them?”
He nodded happily. “Yes please.”
We went back to his apartment and put everything away, then I started breakfast for us while Miles made coffee.
“I’m glad to see you have a coffee pot. And one decent pan.” I shook my head. “Tell me I’m imagining things and that’s not all plastic in your silverware drawers.”
Miles winced. “Ummmm…”
“Jesus, Miles!” I opened and shut several cupboards and drawers. “Not even a spatula?”
He looked offended. “I have a spatula.” He opened the dishwasher and pulled out a wooden spoon. “Here.”
“Oh my God. Forget it. At least you have measuring cups.”
“Yeah, I think my mom gave me those. I’ve never actually used them.”
I managed with one pan, a wooden spoon, and some plasticware, and we stuffed our faces with scrambled eggs and thick-cut bacon and strawberries dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon buns dripping with glaze.
“Told you it would taste just as good with plastic forks,” Miles said with his mouth full. “And think how fast the cleanup will be without real plates.”
I rolled my eyes. “Now I know what to get you for Christmas.”
When we were done, we lay on the couch, rubbing our full bellies and swearing we’d go for a walk as soon as the rain let up.
“This rain is killing all my plans for today,” Miles complained. “I wanted to take you to a game at Comerica Park, but it looks like a rain delay. Do you want to go to the art museum or something?”
“You know what? I’m fine just hanging out here if you want. I’m so busy on the days I work, I don’t really need to do anything but be lazy today.”
“That is perfect, because it just so happens that I am awesome at lazy. I fucking own lazy.” He rolled to his side and put his arms around me. “Let’s do this all day. But take breaks for sex.”
I laughed. “Don’t you want to write?”
“If I feel like it, I will. Right now I’m happy.”
“Me too.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken a nap so early in the day, after I’d done nothing but eat breakfast, but I was so relaxed and comfortable, I shut my eyes and let it happen.
We fell asleep to the sound of the rain, and when I woke up, his arms were still wrapped around me. It surprised me about him—that he liked to cuddle this way. I’d have thought he was one of those guys who likes the sex but not the closeness, but it seemed as if he liked both. I did too.
For a moment, I let myself wonder what life might have been like if we’d kissed on the Almost Night. Would we have fallen in love? Stayed together? Miles wouldn’t have been able to get the reputation he had, so what would he be writing about instead of sex? Would we live together? Would this be my apartment too? I swallowed hard. Would we be married by now?
Or maybe it would have gone the other way. Maybe we would have broken up while he was at college because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. Maybe we’d have fought and I’d have gotten back together with Dan. Maybe we wouldn’t even be friends now.
My throat squeezed. I didn’t want to think about that. I liked the other scenario better—the one where we fell head over heels and made it work somehow, even though we were so different. Too bad our timing had never been right. We might have been good together.
We would have been good together.
I sighed, and Miles shifted behind me. “You awake?”
“Yeah.” My voice was weak.
“Everything OK?”
“I guess so.”
“What is it?” He pulled my shoulder back so he could see my face.
“I don’t know. Maybe the whole breakup thing is hitting me now.” It was a lie, and I felt guilty about it since he was always swearing he told me the truth, but how could I admit that I was sad about us? That we’d never been given a chance? He’d tell me I was nuts, wouldn’t he?
“Hm. Well, we can’t have that.” He tapped a finger on his chin. “What should we do? Want to watch cartoons? Or porn? The internet has such a good selection of both, sometimes I have a hard time deciding between them.”
I laughed. “You don’t say.”
He looked out the windows. “Or, you know what? I think the rain let up a little. Want to go out for a walk? Grab a drink?”
“Actually, that sounds nice.”
“That means we have to get off the couch though. And this is really fucking comfortable.” He squeezed me tight, laying his head on my shoulder. “Never leave me.”
Stop it, Miles. I’m confused enough.
“OK. Now let me up.”
He sighed dramatically, but he released me from his grip and I forced myself to get off the couch.
Upstairs, I went into the bathroom and took a few deep breaths, reminding myself to keep this time with him in perspective. No good would come of falling for a playboy like Miles Haas, especially so soon after breaking up with Dan. That had disaster written all over it. Yes, I’d promised to let myself make some mistakes in the future, but that could not be one of them. I plastered a smile on my face as I went down the stairs. “Ready.”
We walked down Woodward through a light drizzle and ended up at the Grand Trunk Pub, where I got tipsy on mojitos and tried not to think about going home tomorrow.
“So what will we do for my last night here?” I asked.
“I’m going to take you out.”