After His Banana, page 9
“This will suffice,” Miles said, sounding disappointed. “Now, make sure we’re not disturbed, please.”
Hugh nodded, backing out of the room and then closing the door.
“What’s your drink of choice?” Miles asked, rooting through the bottles and twisting them to read their labels.
I rolled my head to the side, watching him. I let myself relish in how absolutely insane this moment was. Not only was I alone with a guy who was way out of my league, but I was on a mega yacht. From the looks of it, we were also about to indulge in a very ill-advised amount of drinking. As much as I knew I should be worrying about a million other things, all I could do was smile.
It felt good to let go and give myself a moment. For twenty-four hours, maybe I could just be normal for once. I could stop filtering every choice through the metric fuck-ton of responsibility I always felt to do everything right.
Just for once, I could be a normal college girl and have fun.
“Your choice.”
Miles poured us glasses of something that tasted like fire. Like the few other times I’d tried hard liquor, I couldn’t understand what the appeal was. It just felt like punishment, but I sipped at it anyway.
“Why do you talk like you’re not rich?” I asked after we’d settled into the couch. “You say it like you’ve been cut off from the family fortune, or something.”
“In a way, I was.” Miles was leaned back comfortably into the couch so that his knee was resting against my thigh. He looked down at his drink, swirled it, and took a sip. “My dad is really big on the idea that money is poison if you don’t handle it right. Like something you have to build up a proper tolerance to, or something. For as long as I can remember, we actually lived in really low-key places. Not mansions or insane family trips. Just a suburb and normal shit. Small allowance, chores, you name it.”
“Didn’t that make you mad?”
“Back then? Yeah. Sometimes. I’ll never admit it to his cranky old ass, but I do think my
dad had a point. How often do the children of the mega-rich turn out good, or even normal? You grow up with that kind of money and you think it’s normal. I think it fucks up your perspective in a way that probably can’t ever be un-fucked. So, yeah. I guess I’m grateful my parents did it the way they did it.”
“Him not wanting to give you a job makes more sense, then.”
“It does.” Miles sounded somewhat surprised. “He’s still a dick, though.”
I grinned. “Before… when my dad was around, he wasn’t big on tough love. He let us get
away with everything. Like one time I saw this prank video online where they put oil on the ground and clear cling wrap across a door frame. Then they yelled for the parents to come into the kitchen. Basically, they lose their footing and slide face-first into the cling wrap, falling down. Except in practice, my dad just slid into the wall and broke his ankle.”
Miles was in the process of pouring us both more to drink, but he stopped to wince and
look up at me. “Seriously? It sounds like you were a monster.”
I laughed. “Well, he saw that I was crying when I realized what happened. Instead of
getting mad or even asking me to call an ambulance, the first thing he did was try to calm me down.” I plucked a little hair off the couch absently. “I think about that a lot. What it must be like to care about someone so much that you’d put them before yourself instinctively. When it’s not even a choice anymore, just something you do.”
Miles handed me my drink and sat back down. “People who take the time to worry about
that sort of thing usually end up finding the answers they want.”
“What about you? What answers are you looking for?”
I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like he was about to give a serious answer. At the last
moment, he cracked a smile. “What color your panties are, for starters.”
My cheeks burned. I tried to think of something clever or sexy to say in response.
Thankfully, the slight buzz I felt helped grease the gears of my brain, and I spat out a response almost immediately. “And some people never find the answers they’re looking for.”
“Respectfully,” Miles said, reaching out to clink his glass against mine and smirk. “We’ll
have to agree to disagree on that.”
14
Miles
Miles Motto #17: WD-40 is the perfect lubricant for all things mechanical. Alcohol, on the other hand, is the perfect emotional lubricant.
Within a couple hours, I had Rey well and truly lubricated with booze. All the reluctance and anxiety she’d been dripping with since I met her this morning had melted away, leaving her refreshingly relaxed.
She was draped over the couch with her head in my lap. I had hoped to only share a drink or two with her to avoid actually getting her drunk. But once she’d gotten started, she hadn’t seemed intent on stopping. In other words, I’d cockblocked myself, because I was at least part gentleman, and I wasn’t going to take advantage of her if she was too blasted to know what she was doing.
“Alcohol is so strange,” Rey mused in an almost sleepy voice. “It’s like, we can’t ever just be ourselves with people unless our inhibitions are chemically wiped away. Why is that?”
I put my head back, staring up at the chandelier, which seemed to be made of thousands of intricately cut chunks of crystal. “You want the short, boring answer, or the real one?”
Rey rolled her head to look up at me, which had the unintended effect of massaging my cock slightly. I stared into the distance, reminding myself that I was a gentleman. Gentlemen didn’t get hard on their pre-girlfriend’s heads before the first date. It just wasn’t done.
“Give me both answers,” she said.
“The boring one is we’re all cowards. The real answer is because we’ve got a version of ourselves we want the world to see. Then there’s the real us. We keep it tucked away behind what we show people, and as long as we never let the real thing come to the surface, nothing can touch us. If people hate you, they just hate the version of yourself you let them see. It’s not really you that they hate.”
Rey seemed to think about that, then nodded slowly. “Except then, if people love you, it’s not really you that they love, is it?”
“Quite the little philosopher, aren’t you?”
“I’m learning from the best.”
I laughed. “Hardly.”
“I think you’re a lot more thoughtful than you let on. It’s like you want people to think you’re this carefree guy. But on the inside, I think you do care about things.”
“What about you? What goes on inside that pretty little head of yours?”
She sat up so that her knees were beneath her and pushing into my thighs. Her lips looked puffy and pink, almost swollen. I kept trying to peel my eyes from them, but I couldn’t quite manage.
“Well,” she said, slowly raising her eyes to meet mine. “One thought was how it’s incredibly sweet that you want to get our first date right so badly.”
“Full disclosure. I do want to get the date right. I want it to be perfect, actually. But you realize all these prequel dates are my excuse to see you more, right? You only promised me one date, and I can’t risk that being all I ever have with you.”
Her focus darted between my eyes and my lips a few times. “That’s still sweet.”
She was leaning closer. I put my fingertip on her chin, stopping her just before she could kiss me. “We’ve been drinking,” I said.
“I’m aware.”
“And sober you always seems pretty reluctant. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”
“Like letting you talk me out of this?”
Apparently, inebriated Rey was also kind of a badass, because she took a handful of my hoodie in her fist and yanked me in, kissing me. The unfair part was that my own head was buzzing with the alcohol, and I wasn’t exactly operating at peak self-control conditions.
And she felt so damn good.
She was slowly tugging me back as she leaned away from me, forcing me to crawl above her as we kissed like our lives depended on it.
In the shuffle to change positions, my thigh wound up between her legs. I fought and lost a brief mental battle to move it away from her. Instead, I let myself grind into her as I bent down for another kiss.
She rocked against me, scissoring her legs into my knee, urging me to press harder.
The cushion beneath her head jostled her glasses, so I stopped just long enough to pull them away from her face and set them aside.
“We should really wait until you sober up, at least.” I had to practically drag the words out of the darkest depths of my soul. I wanted to do nothing more than continue, but I knew I had to be sure she was sure.
She looked up at me, apparently bright-eyed and aware. “Do I have to beg? Because I’ll beg.”
I licked my lips. “You say that like it’s a threat.”
Without taking her eyes from mine or blinking, she gave me a seductive, shy little smile. “Miles. Please keep kissing me. I’m not so drunk that I can’t think straight. I’m just drunk enough that I’m not afraid to fight what I want for once.”
I took in the view of her beneath me. Her cheeks were flushed. Dark, silky hair billowed around her head like a burst of chestnut-colored ink.
I put my thumb to her lips, exploring them slowly, wanting nothing more than to dive back in and take everything she was willing to give.
Fuck. I was not used to being the knight in shining armor. If this was a recipe, it’d be the part where the meal was already cooked, the oven was cracked, and the bread was golden brown and perfect. All I had to do was reach in and grab it.
Except it still felt wrong.
“I actually like you,” I said.
“Then what’s the problem?” Some of the drunken lust finally slid from Rey’s face, but I was painfully aware that my knee was still resting between her legs, and I could feel the heat of her arousal there.
“You’ve kind of been sending mixed signals. So this sudden ravenously horny thing is throwing me for a bit of a loop.”
Oops. I knew I’d said something wrong as soon as it left my lips. She scooted out from under me, sitting halfway up. “Ravenously horny? Is that what you think of me?”
“Wrong phrase. Uh, sexually motivated? Emotionally unencumbered?”
Rey looked like she was considering punching me in my verbally challenge face. “I had a few drinks. It’s not like I’m drugged.”
I held up my hands like she was coming at me with a baseball bat. Coincidentally, I was glad she was unarmed.
She was looking down at her hands as she fiddled with a ring on her pinky finger. Rey finally let out a sigh. “Okay. You’re right. I have been sending mixed signals. And I’m sorry I got so mad. I just don’t normally put myself out there like that, and having you reject me was embarrassing.”
“Reject you?” I scoffed. “My cock is hard enough to cut a diamond right now. Trying to make sure you are sober enough to do this was about as hard as teaching a crow to bring you cool shit—trust me, I’ve tried that, and it’s not easy.”
“Wait, what?”
I paused. “What to which part? The diamond cutting cock or the crow part?”
“Start with the crow?”
“If you feed a crow a little bit every day, they eventually befriend you. And they will start bringing you random shit they find that they think is cool. So I tried to befriend this crow outside my apartment once. I spent weeks feeding him, and the first time he brought me something, it was some sort of disgusting owl hairball filled with mouse bones.” I shook my head.
Finally, Rey cracked a smile. “You’re one of the weirdest people I’ve ever met.”
There was a long pause, and I honestly wasn’t sure what to do next. I settled for sitting there while staring at the wall. After a few seconds, Rey scooted closer and leaned her head on my shoulder. “Is there still a diamond cutter between your legs?”
“Let’s just say if there was a medieval castle that we needed to lay siege to, all they’d have to do is push me into the front gate at a high speed.”
Rey made no sound, but I felt her hand slide onto my thigh. I was far from a blushing virgin, but I was quickly discovering that sexual satisfaction was directly correlated with emotional attraction.
I hadn’t been kidding. I really liked Rey. As it turned out, that meant I really liked having her touch me, and vice versa.
“That sounds uncomfortable. I could maybe help you with that if you wanted.”
Oh shit. She might as well ask a pirate if he wanted booty. Spoiler alert: a pirate always wants booty.
“Considering you caused this,” I said, injecting a little theatric discomfort into my voice. “It’d only be right for you to do something about it.”
15
Rey
I watched a submarine movie with my dad once before he passed. There was a scene where the hull of the ship breached when the sailors were thousands of leagues beneath the sea. Alarms were going off, men were screaming, and water was gushing into the cramped space. It was absolute chaos and mayhem.
I imagined my brain would’ve looked like that on the inside right about now.
There was a long list of problems with my current situation.
The most pressing?
Miles hadn’t exactly been wrong when he called me ravenously horny. The first thing that started to melt away when I drank was how much I let school stress me out. As it turned out, as soon as I stopped worrying about school, all I saw was the absolutely mouthwatering guy who was working overtime to spend time with me.
That thought had naturally progressed to my insides, which had then set off some kind of chain reaction that led to me feeling like I was ready to jump his bones.
I was just trying to figure out what the hell to do next when Miles got a look in his eyes.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
I gulped, but did as I was asked.
“Now lay back.”
“Why do I need to close my eyes for this?”
I felt Miles shifting so he was above me again. I imagined him looking down at me, wondering what he saw. Did he see a scared virgin who looked ridiculous all tensed up with her eyes closed? Or did he see something else…
“Because you think too much.”
I was about to argue that point—especially considering I’d been the “ravenously horny” one a few moments ago. He was the one trying to convince me I was too buzzed to—
His lips found the soft skin of my neck.
Miles ran his palm up my thigh, practically jerking my thoughts to the here and now. I relaxed, letting my thoughts fade to a dull murmur so I could focus on the way he had lifted my arms over my head and pinned my wrists together with a vice-like grip.
Miles’ voice was soaked with desire when he spoke, like wet gravel. “I’ve wanted to do this from the moment I saw you. Fuck. I’ve wanted it.”
“Do it,” I whispered. Wow. I hadn’t planned to say that, and I didn’t even know what it was that he wanted to do. But even when I forced myself to think hard, I found I didn’t regret it. I wanted this. Just like he had. I’d wanted it all along.
He pulled down my sweat pants with one hand, still clutching my wrists together.
I still had my eyes closed, so when I felt him roughly cup my already-soaked panties in his palm, I gasped in surprise. I wanted to fold upwards or sink down into the couch or laugh. I didn’t know what to think or do, but my skin was singing with anticipation.
He kissed my earlobe. “You’re absolutely covered in goosebumps.”
“It’s cold.”
“Liar.” Miles started to move his hand against me in a slow, deliberate rhythm.
I squirmed—no, writhed under him. I felt pinned and contained beneath his huge body, unable to even peel my wrists away from him if I tried. He was so rough with his hand, but it felt good.
I was already bucking my hips into him and breathing heavily.
Miles let out a low, hungry noise. “I want you to come all over my hand. I want to feel your pussy clench for me.”
I honestly didn’t really know what any of that meant, but he could’ve told me potatoes were two for one at the gas station next Christmas and it would’ve felt like sweet seduction being drizzled in my ear.
His grip on my wrists went even tighter until it was almost painful. His mouth was against my neck, kissing me with wet warmth between his own heavy breaths. He dove his hand inside my panties, sliding his fingers down me and spreading the slickness of my arousal. “God damn. You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”
I wasn’t sure if he knew that I was basically brain dead at the moment and barely capable of thinking above a cavewoman level of sentence structure. I did my best to give him the response he wanted. “Mhm.” That’d have to do.
“You’ve wanted this all along, haven’t you?”
I nodded, feeling my entire body going tense with the sensations rocking through me.
Gradually, his slow, firm rhythm turned into what I thought could only be described as finger-fucking. His fingers slid in and out of me while his thumb stayed mostly planted on my clit. It was too much to even comprehend.
All I knew was white hot ecstasy between my legs.
An eruption of feelings and sensations that made me shake like I was hypothermic. My body was warm jelly and my brain was still trying to grapple with this moment and what it meant—if this was just casual fun or if we’d taken some kind of step together.
Once I’d stopped shaking and realized I just had the orgasm of my life, I finally opened my eyes.
Miles’ lips were bruised red and slightly swollen and his eyes looked almost sleepy. He was grinning wolfishly as he brought his hand to his lips and licked my juices from his fingers. “I knew you’d taste like fucking candy.”
I was skeptical that was true, but I didn’t care. “Do you want me to…” I bit my lip, then sat up and looked between his legs. I could see the outline of his erection there, and I had to admit I would’ve been happy to get a better look.
Hugh nodded, backing out of the room and then closing the door.
“What’s your drink of choice?” Miles asked, rooting through the bottles and twisting them to read their labels.
I rolled my head to the side, watching him. I let myself relish in how absolutely insane this moment was. Not only was I alone with a guy who was way out of my league, but I was on a mega yacht. From the looks of it, we were also about to indulge in a very ill-advised amount of drinking. As much as I knew I should be worrying about a million other things, all I could do was smile.
It felt good to let go and give myself a moment. For twenty-four hours, maybe I could just be normal for once. I could stop filtering every choice through the metric fuck-ton of responsibility I always felt to do everything right.
Just for once, I could be a normal college girl and have fun.
“Your choice.”
Miles poured us glasses of something that tasted like fire. Like the few other times I’d tried hard liquor, I couldn’t understand what the appeal was. It just felt like punishment, but I sipped at it anyway.
“Why do you talk like you’re not rich?” I asked after we’d settled into the couch. “You say it like you’ve been cut off from the family fortune, or something.”
“In a way, I was.” Miles was leaned back comfortably into the couch so that his knee was resting against my thigh. He looked down at his drink, swirled it, and took a sip. “My dad is really big on the idea that money is poison if you don’t handle it right. Like something you have to build up a proper tolerance to, or something. For as long as I can remember, we actually lived in really low-key places. Not mansions or insane family trips. Just a suburb and normal shit. Small allowance, chores, you name it.”
“Didn’t that make you mad?”
“Back then? Yeah. Sometimes. I’ll never admit it to his cranky old ass, but I do think my
dad had a point. How often do the children of the mega-rich turn out good, or even normal? You grow up with that kind of money and you think it’s normal. I think it fucks up your perspective in a way that probably can’t ever be un-fucked. So, yeah. I guess I’m grateful my parents did it the way they did it.”
“Him not wanting to give you a job makes more sense, then.”
“It does.” Miles sounded somewhat surprised. “He’s still a dick, though.”
I grinned. “Before… when my dad was around, he wasn’t big on tough love. He let us get
away with everything. Like one time I saw this prank video online where they put oil on the ground and clear cling wrap across a door frame. Then they yelled for the parents to come into the kitchen. Basically, they lose their footing and slide face-first into the cling wrap, falling down. Except in practice, my dad just slid into the wall and broke his ankle.”
Miles was in the process of pouring us both more to drink, but he stopped to wince and
look up at me. “Seriously? It sounds like you were a monster.”
I laughed. “Well, he saw that I was crying when I realized what happened. Instead of
getting mad or even asking me to call an ambulance, the first thing he did was try to calm me down.” I plucked a little hair off the couch absently. “I think about that a lot. What it must be like to care about someone so much that you’d put them before yourself instinctively. When it’s not even a choice anymore, just something you do.”
Miles handed me my drink and sat back down. “People who take the time to worry about
that sort of thing usually end up finding the answers they want.”
“What about you? What answers are you looking for?”
I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like he was about to give a serious answer. At the last
moment, he cracked a smile. “What color your panties are, for starters.”
My cheeks burned. I tried to think of something clever or sexy to say in response.
Thankfully, the slight buzz I felt helped grease the gears of my brain, and I spat out a response almost immediately. “And some people never find the answers they’re looking for.”
“Respectfully,” Miles said, reaching out to clink his glass against mine and smirk. “We’ll
have to agree to disagree on that.”
14
Miles
Miles Motto #17: WD-40 is the perfect lubricant for all things mechanical. Alcohol, on the other hand, is the perfect emotional lubricant.
Within a couple hours, I had Rey well and truly lubricated with booze. All the reluctance and anxiety she’d been dripping with since I met her this morning had melted away, leaving her refreshingly relaxed.
She was draped over the couch with her head in my lap. I had hoped to only share a drink or two with her to avoid actually getting her drunk. But once she’d gotten started, she hadn’t seemed intent on stopping. In other words, I’d cockblocked myself, because I was at least part gentleman, and I wasn’t going to take advantage of her if she was too blasted to know what she was doing.
“Alcohol is so strange,” Rey mused in an almost sleepy voice. “It’s like, we can’t ever just be ourselves with people unless our inhibitions are chemically wiped away. Why is that?”
I put my head back, staring up at the chandelier, which seemed to be made of thousands of intricately cut chunks of crystal. “You want the short, boring answer, or the real one?”
Rey rolled her head to look up at me, which had the unintended effect of massaging my cock slightly. I stared into the distance, reminding myself that I was a gentleman. Gentlemen didn’t get hard on their pre-girlfriend’s heads before the first date. It just wasn’t done.
“Give me both answers,” she said.
“The boring one is we’re all cowards. The real answer is because we’ve got a version of ourselves we want the world to see. Then there’s the real us. We keep it tucked away behind what we show people, and as long as we never let the real thing come to the surface, nothing can touch us. If people hate you, they just hate the version of yourself you let them see. It’s not really you that they hate.”
Rey seemed to think about that, then nodded slowly. “Except then, if people love you, it’s not really you that they love, is it?”
“Quite the little philosopher, aren’t you?”
“I’m learning from the best.”
I laughed. “Hardly.”
“I think you’re a lot more thoughtful than you let on. It’s like you want people to think you’re this carefree guy. But on the inside, I think you do care about things.”
“What about you? What goes on inside that pretty little head of yours?”
She sat up so that her knees were beneath her and pushing into my thighs. Her lips looked puffy and pink, almost swollen. I kept trying to peel my eyes from them, but I couldn’t quite manage.
“Well,” she said, slowly raising her eyes to meet mine. “One thought was how it’s incredibly sweet that you want to get our first date right so badly.”
“Full disclosure. I do want to get the date right. I want it to be perfect, actually. But you realize all these prequel dates are my excuse to see you more, right? You only promised me one date, and I can’t risk that being all I ever have with you.”
Her focus darted between my eyes and my lips a few times. “That’s still sweet.”
She was leaning closer. I put my fingertip on her chin, stopping her just before she could kiss me. “We’ve been drinking,” I said.
“I’m aware.”
“And sober you always seems pretty reluctant. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”
“Like letting you talk me out of this?”
Apparently, inebriated Rey was also kind of a badass, because she took a handful of my hoodie in her fist and yanked me in, kissing me. The unfair part was that my own head was buzzing with the alcohol, and I wasn’t exactly operating at peak self-control conditions.
And she felt so damn good.
She was slowly tugging me back as she leaned away from me, forcing me to crawl above her as we kissed like our lives depended on it.
In the shuffle to change positions, my thigh wound up between her legs. I fought and lost a brief mental battle to move it away from her. Instead, I let myself grind into her as I bent down for another kiss.
She rocked against me, scissoring her legs into my knee, urging me to press harder.
The cushion beneath her head jostled her glasses, so I stopped just long enough to pull them away from her face and set them aside.
“We should really wait until you sober up, at least.” I had to practically drag the words out of the darkest depths of my soul. I wanted to do nothing more than continue, but I knew I had to be sure she was sure.
She looked up at me, apparently bright-eyed and aware. “Do I have to beg? Because I’ll beg.”
I licked my lips. “You say that like it’s a threat.”
Without taking her eyes from mine or blinking, she gave me a seductive, shy little smile. “Miles. Please keep kissing me. I’m not so drunk that I can’t think straight. I’m just drunk enough that I’m not afraid to fight what I want for once.”
I took in the view of her beneath me. Her cheeks were flushed. Dark, silky hair billowed around her head like a burst of chestnut-colored ink.
I put my thumb to her lips, exploring them slowly, wanting nothing more than to dive back in and take everything she was willing to give.
Fuck. I was not used to being the knight in shining armor. If this was a recipe, it’d be the part where the meal was already cooked, the oven was cracked, and the bread was golden brown and perfect. All I had to do was reach in and grab it.
Except it still felt wrong.
“I actually like you,” I said.
“Then what’s the problem?” Some of the drunken lust finally slid from Rey’s face, but I was painfully aware that my knee was still resting between her legs, and I could feel the heat of her arousal there.
“You’ve kind of been sending mixed signals. So this sudden ravenously horny thing is throwing me for a bit of a loop.”
Oops. I knew I’d said something wrong as soon as it left my lips. She scooted out from under me, sitting halfway up. “Ravenously horny? Is that what you think of me?”
“Wrong phrase. Uh, sexually motivated? Emotionally unencumbered?”
Rey looked like she was considering punching me in my verbally challenge face. “I had a few drinks. It’s not like I’m drugged.”
I held up my hands like she was coming at me with a baseball bat. Coincidentally, I was glad she was unarmed.
She was looking down at her hands as she fiddled with a ring on her pinky finger. Rey finally let out a sigh. “Okay. You’re right. I have been sending mixed signals. And I’m sorry I got so mad. I just don’t normally put myself out there like that, and having you reject me was embarrassing.”
“Reject you?” I scoffed. “My cock is hard enough to cut a diamond right now. Trying to make sure you are sober enough to do this was about as hard as teaching a crow to bring you cool shit—trust me, I’ve tried that, and it’s not easy.”
“Wait, what?”
I paused. “What to which part? The diamond cutting cock or the crow part?”
“Start with the crow?”
“If you feed a crow a little bit every day, they eventually befriend you. And they will start bringing you random shit they find that they think is cool. So I tried to befriend this crow outside my apartment once. I spent weeks feeding him, and the first time he brought me something, it was some sort of disgusting owl hairball filled with mouse bones.” I shook my head.
Finally, Rey cracked a smile. “You’re one of the weirdest people I’ve ever met.”
There was a long pause, and I honestly wasn’t sure what to do next. I settled for sitting there while staring at the wall. After a few seconds, Rey scooted closer and leaned her head on my shoulder. “Is there still a diamond cutter between your legs?”
“Let’s just say if there was a medieval castle that we needed to lay siege to, all they’d have to do is push me into the front gate at a high speed.”
Rey made no sound, but I felt her hand slide onto my thigh. I was far from a blushing virgin, but I was quickly discovering that sexual satisfaction was directly correlated with emotional attraction.
I hadn’t been kidding. I really liked Rey. As it turned out, that meant I really liked having her touch me, and vice versa.
“That sounds uncomfortable. I could maybe help you with that if you wanted.”
Oh shit. She might as well ask a pirate if he wanted booty. Spoiler alert: a pirate always wants booty.
“Considering you caused this,” I said, injecting a little theatric discomfort into my voice. “It’d only be right for you to do something about it.”
15
Rey
I watched a submarine movie with my dad once before he passed. There was a scene where the hull of the ship breached when the sailors were thousands of leagues beneath the sea. Alarms were going off, men were screaming, and water was gushing into the cramped space. It was absolute chaos and mayhem.
I imagined my brain would’ve looked like that on the inside right about now.
There was a long list of problems with my current situation.
The most pressing?
Miles hadn’t exactly been wrong when he called me ravenously horny. The first thing that started to melt away when I drank was how much I let school stress me out. As it turned out, as soon as I stopped worrying about school, all I saw was the absolutely mouthwatering guy who was working overtime to spend time with me.
That thought had naturally progressed to my insides, which had then set off some kind of chain reaction that led to me feeling like I was ready to jump his bones.
I was just trying to figure out what the hell to do next when Miles got a look in his eyes.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
I gulped, but did as I was asked.
“Now lay back.”
“Why do I need to close my eyes for this?”
I felt Miles shifting so he was above me again. I imagined him looking down at me, wondering what he saw. Did he see a scared virgin who looked ridiculous all tensed up with her eyes closed? Or did he see something else…
“Because you think too much.”
I was about to argue that point—especially considering I’d been the “ravenously horny” one a few moments ago. He was the one trying to convince me I was too buzzed to—
His lips found the soft skin of my neck.
Miles ran his palm up my thigh, practically jerking my thoughts to the here and now. I relaxed, letting my thoughts fade to a dull murmur so I could focus on the way he had lifted my arms over my head and pinned my wrists together with a vice-like grip.
Miles’ voice was soaked with desire when he spoke, like wet gravel. “I’ve wanted to do this from the moment I saw you. Fuck. I’ve wanted it.”
“Do it,” I whispered. Wow. I hadn’t planned to say that, and I didn’t even know what it was that he wanted to do. But even when I forced myself to think hard, I found I didn’t regret it. I wanted this. Just like he had. I’d wanted it all along.
He pulled down my sweat pants with one hand, still clutching my wrists together.
I still had my eyes closed, so when I felt him roughly cup my already-soaked panties in his palm, I gasped in surprise. I wanted to fold upwards or sink down into the couch or laugh. I didn’t know what to think or do, but my skin was singing with anticipation.
He kissed my earlobe. “You’re absolutely covered in goosebumps.”
“It’s cold.”
“Liar.” Miles started to move his hand against me in a slow, deliberate rhythm.
I squirmed—no, writhed under him. I felt pinned and contained beneath his huge body, unable to even peel my wrists away from him if I tried. He was so rough with his hand, but it felt good.
I was already bucking my hips into him and breathing heavily.
Miles let out a low, hungry noise. “I want you to come all over my hand. I want to feel your pussy clench for me.”
I honestly didn’t really know what any of that meant, but he could’ve told me potatoes were two for one at the gas station next Christmas and it would’ve felt like sweet seduction being drizzled in my ear.
His grip on my wrists went even tighter until it was almost painful. His mouth was against my neck, kissing me with wet warmth between his own heavy breaths. He dove his hand inside my panties, sliding his fingers down me and spreading the slickness of my arousal. “God damn. You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”
I wasn’t sure if he knew that I was basically brain dead at the moment and barely capable of thinking above a cavewoman level of sentence structure. I did my best to give him the response he wanted. “Mhm.” That’d have to do.
“You’ve wanted this all along, haven’t you?”
I nodded, feeling my entire body going tense with the sensations rocking through me.
Gradually, his slow, firm rhythm turned into what I thought could only be described as finger-fucking. His fingers slid in and out of me while his thumb stayed mostly planted on my clit. It was too much to even comprehend.
All I knew was white hot ecstasy between my legs.
An eruption of feelings and sensations that made me shake like I was hypothermic. My body was warm jelly and my brain was still trying to grapple with this moment and what it meant—if this was just casual fun or if we’d taken some kind of step together.
Once I’d stopped shaking and realized I just had the orgasm of my life, I finally opened my eyes.
Miles’ lips were bruised red and slightly swollen and his eyes looked almost sleepy. He was grinning wolfishly as he brought his hand to his lips and licked my juices from his fingers. “I knew you’d taste like fucking candy.”
I was skeptical that was true, but I didn’t care. “Do you want me to…” I bit my lip, then sat up and looked between his legs. I could see the outline of his erection there, and I had to admit I would’ve been happy to get a better look.
