Miles slides his gaze to her and offers a small smile while shaking her hand. “I’m Miles.”
“Nice to meet you. Can I get you a drink? My tiki bar is open!” She waves her hands out proudly.
“I’m good for now, thanks,” Miles replies and looks back down at me. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
I nod and grab his hand to lead him back inside. A group of Dean’s friends is standing right in front of my bedroom door, so I decide to take him upstairs to where I was getting ready earlier. When we pass by Dean at the keg, I see him cut narrow eyes at Miles. I flash my own daggers at Dean, silently telling him to back the fuck off as we veer left.
I can’t drag Miles up the stairs fast enough.
The light from the Edison bulbs is pouring through the back window into the dark bedroom, so I don’t even bother with the light switch. Miles walks into the room behind me like a dark, thunderous cloud. When I turn around to look at him, I realize this room has never felt so small.
He looks around, noticing men’s shoes on the floor in the open closet. “Do you have a roommate?”
My face heats instantly because this is nowhere near the conversation I want to have right now. Especially after Dean just flounced me around like a bimbo in front of everyone two seconds ago.
“Kind of?” I reply hesitantly.
“So it’s a guy,” Miles states, staring into the closet, then sliding his eyes to me.
There’s no hiding that fact now. “Yes.” I shrug.
He laughs and shakes his head. “It figures.” He presses a hand to his forehead as he paces the room. “It’s not that Dean guy, right? You said he was a neighbor.”
“He is a neighbor. It’s not Dean.”
“Then who is it?”
“No one,” I rush out, noticing that Miles is getting tenser and tenser by the second. The last thing he needs to hear is that I still kind of live with my dumbass ex-boyfriend. “He’s away for the summer, so it doesn’t matter.”
“But it’s a dude,” he snaps, his hands balling into frustrated fists at his sides. “Damnit, Mercedes, I can’t do this!”
“Do what?” I ask, my chest lifting with hope.
“I’m a jealous guy! You know that,” he exclaims, throwing his hands out wide in surrender as he points downstairs. “This is not the kind of shit I handle well.” He forks his hands through his hair, looking like he’s about to bolt.
But I don’t want him to bolt.
I want him to stay.
“I’m sorry, I should just go.”
He moves toward the door, and I dash in front of him, blocking his exit.
“My roommate is…gay,” I blurt, and my eyes fly wide at the lie that tumbled so easily from my lips. “And he’s out of town for the summer.”
Miles stares down at me, blinking. “Seriously?”
I shrug, completely unable to confirm it again because I still can’t believe I lied in the first place. “Tell me why are you turning into such a maniac right now? I thought you only wanted to be friends.”
He exhales heavily. “It’s a lot harder than I thought it would be.”
“Well, what can I do to help?” I ask, even though I don’t want to help. I want to bone.
Miles groans and pins me with a serious glower. “Babe, jealousy is an issue I have to keep in check constantly. I try not to be like this, but it’s virtually fucking impossible. I had almost ten years with a girl who took pleasure in fucking torturing me every chance she got.”
“Well, I’m not that girl,” I retort and step in closer to him, reaching my hands out to touch his forearms.
“I know you’re not,” he nearly cries. “But before we do anything, you need to know this about me. I’m overprotective. Overbearing. Over arrogant. Pretty much everything I do is to the extreme.”
“Okay,” I reply slowly and swallow a knot in my throat as he cups my face in his rough hands, looming over me like some sort of caveman staking his claim.
His voice is deep and melty as he adds, “And I fucking lose it if I think a guy is moving in on my property.”
Okay, I shouldn’t be turned on by that. I’m a modern woman. I’m independent. I think I could be a feminist if I ever knew exactly what the fuck that all entailed. But personally, I don’t think feminism belongs in the bedroom. I think feminism is having license over your own desires, and Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I think I just felt a gush of liquid between my legs, and I am so not mad at that!
I shake my head, trying to refocus my brain on the main point here. “But I’m not your property, Miles!”
“In my mind, you are,” he replies, his jaw tight, his lips pinched. “And I really need you not to do things to make me jealous.”
“Why?” I nearly sob.
“Because if you make me jealous, then I won’t be able to stay friends with you.”
“Why?” Good God, man, just fucking take me!
“Because it’ll make me want to fuck you, so you don’t ever want to look at another guy again.”
Heavy breaths.
Thunderous heartbeats.
Noisy party downstairs…the real downstairs. That wasn’t a euphemism for my pants, though, now that I mention it, I think I heard his dick grow. Like literally, I think I hear his jeans stretching between us.
I reach out and touch him with my hands and oh my God, yes. He’s hard, and I’m hard, and I want him to just…“Prove it.”
He shakes his head, severity to his brow that has a knot forming in my throat. “I hope you know what you’re asking for.”
With a feral sort of growl, he slams his lips to mine and plunges his tongue straight into my mouth. Deep. So deep. As if he’s looking for tonsils deep. It isn’t exactly sexy—it’s uncontrollable. Heady. Toxic. I can’t get away from him, and I don’t want to. My arms wind tightly around his neck, holding him as if it’s possible to merge our bodies together.
No more dead fish kiss. God, this is living!
Miles bends over, running his hands down my ass to the back of my thighs. He grabs me tightly and hoists me up, and my legs instantly wrap around his waist. I can’t quite hook my ankles around his massive frame, so I just squeeze. Squeeze him into me as hard as I can because good Lord, this is what I’ve been missing. Strong, masculine, territorial heat!
I want his heat all over me. If he could unzip his skin and tuck me inside him, I’d want that. I want to be consumed by him in every possible way.
He combs his hands through my hair and yanks my head back so he can drag his tongue along my throat. I swallow against it, panting and writhing just from his wet tongue. He’s ravishing, punishing, and claiming me with his mouth, and fucking hell, it’s bliss.
He turns us toward the bed, and his hands drift down to my ass, his fingers greedily digging into the crease of my butt. “You said you liked anal play?”
I cry out loudly when his fingers slide along the lace of my shorts, and he presses hard through the fabric right on my puckered hole. “Jesus, I don’t know. I just like writing it!”
He laughs, and it vibrates his whole body. I squeeze my legs tighter around him, trying to get that sensation inside me because fucking hell, I need to be fucked right now.