I need all of him. Anything less just won’t do.
During one of our rounds back home this weekend, when Miles had run out of condoms in the middle of the night, we’d talked about birth control and all the exceedingly unsexy, yet important discussion topics of protected sex. Since I am on oral birth control, and we both are clear, we’ve been bare the last few times. Neither of us has ever been this way with anyone else, and it thrilled me to know I was his first like this.
“Oh fuck, baby. You feel so good. So wet. So hot. So perfect.”
I bloom, like a sunflower under the sun’s rays, from his compliment. Miles thinks I’m perfect. I’m perfect for him.
I eagerly trail my hands down his backside, wrapping my legs around him, heels digging into the curve of his ass. Beads of sweat break out over his forehead, his powerful thighs working to piston his hips, his muscular arms giving him leverage as he moves over me.
His hand reaches under the crook of my knee to draw it up toward my shoulder. A moan slips free from the new depth it provides, each thrust hitting something deeper inside me. Breaking me and ripping me to shreds in the most delicious way possible.
He rocks over me, his heart hammering loudly, and with a guttural groan, he throws his head back and surrenders to his release with a shuddering breath and a shout.
The aftershock has my inner walls clenching, as I feel his cock pulsing his hot release inside me. The sick thrill of knowing that I’m dripping with him has a fresh orgasm building low in my belly.
I latch on to his ass cheeks, locking him against me, jutting my hips upward to continue the friction.
“I’m going to come again.”
I barely get the words out, as Miles continues to work me over, sucking my tongue into his mouth and grinding his hips in a circular motion when another orgasm tears through me.
This time, I’m coming so long and hard that my ears ring from the intensity of the explosions detonating deep within my walls.
And at the same time, my heart splits open, knowing that what I feel for Miles is no longer a teenage crush or sweet admiration.
No, it’s turned into full-blown love.
“I love you, Miles.”
37
Miles
It’s beenover three days since I’ve seen Sutton.
Part of that distance is that I’ve been buried up to my eyeballs in preparation for Graham’s return to the office today. He texted me late Monday night indicating he’d be in the office around ten this morning, so I’ve spent the last few days scrubbing the reports and data he’s requested, making them shine and sparkle so when he returns he knows he left his business in good hands.
After our take-out date and her late night of inventory at the shop, Sutton has spent her days and nights prepping for the Morgan’s return home, as well as keeping a vigilant bedside support for her friend’s son, who went through major surgery.
Although we’ve been texting and talking several times a day, I’ve used my work and long hours as an excuse to pull back.
My entire world flipped on its axis the other night the minute Sutton muttered those words. If there are land-speed records for high-tailing it out of a woman’s arms after they’ve just saidI love you, I think I broke them.
Fuck me, I’m such a coward.
The moment she said them, it was obvious she was freaked out by the panicked look that flew across her face, and the way she backpedaled trying to erase the words that could never be taken back.
She chalked it up to post-coital bliss, which I gave her a pass on because it was some pretty fucking amazing sex. I was still seeing white stars behind my eyelids by the time I got home and into bed.
While I’m still not interested in a full-flown relationship, there are no doubts in my mind that I care deeply for Sutton. She’s been a bright spot in my life this past month once I realized how attracted I was to her. And I’ll admit, it’s more than a physical attraction. It’s more than I’ve ever felt for another woman.
But is it love? I don’t know because that’s not something I can commit to feeling. My heart stopped feeling that particular emotion the day I buried my sister. It broke and shattered like glass on the sidewalk, and the pieces left to be kicked and stomped on by passersby.
Am I using this unintentional time away from Sutton as a breather? As a way to run from my petrified state of mind and hide like a child does when it’s seen something scary?
Fuck yeah, I am.
It’s a pitiful, cowardly thing to do, but I told Sutton right from the start I wasn’t the man she needs, or she deserves. Never mind the fact that the husband and father role model I had in my life taught me one big lesson: don’t get married or have children. And don’t, under any circumstances, take the role of stepfather.
