Page 13 of Danny Hall Gets a Lawyer (Goose Run #1)

DANNY

W hen I woke up, it was dark and someone was holding me from behind. I tensed for a moment and then I remembered.

Miller , my brain helpfully supplied. The guy who fucked you so hard you saw stars. Twice.

I relaxed back into his hold, my mind replaying the highlights of last night.

After a long shower—yeah, I’d taken my time in that hot water—I’d come out of the bathroom wearing a towel to find Miller propped up in bed, naked and stroking his cock.

He’d growled out, “Drop the towel and come here,” and fuck if that commanding tone didn’t have me going weak at the knees.

I’d dropped the towel and pretty much thrown myself across the bed, shoved my ass in the air, and begged him to fuck me.

And he had— hard .

It had been exactly the right amount of rough, and Miller had been just the right kind of bossy, asking, “How much do you think you can take?”

Never one to shy away from a challenge, I’d said, “How much have you got?”

Miller had answered by pounding into me with deadly accuracy, filling me in all the best ways until I collapsed screaming as I came all across his nice clean sheets.

He’d followed me down and fucked me through my orgasm before coming with a grunt, and we’d actually fallen asleep for a while, lying there in a mess of jizz and afterglow.

When I’d woken up, it was to kisses on the back of my neck and a sleep-rough, “You good?” which I’d already figured out was Millerspeak for, Was the sex good? Was I good?

“Fucking amazing,” I’d said, rolling over so I was facing him.

And he’d been all messy sex hair and nakedness, wearing this dumb little smile that practically demanded I kiss him.

And of course, that had led to me straddling him and rubbing my hard dick against his.

He’d produced a condom from somewhere, and I’d ended up riding him fast and rough until he’d come with a shout.

He’d been the noisy one that time.

I smiled at the memory and arched my back so I was pressed against Miller’s soft cock. My aching ass throbbed in protest like it was warning me not to get any bright ideas, and I had to admit if Miller asked to fuck me right now, I’d probably take a rain check.

But I’d definitely collect on it once I recovered.

I was on the edge of sleep when my eyes snapped open at the sound of something like wind chimes filling the room and gradually getting louder.

I groaned as next to me Miller made a wounded noise, and I heard the familiar sounds of a hand smacking blindly at the bedside table.

The noise stopped and I closed my eyes again, but then there was more movement next to me and Miller reached out and gently touched my shoulder. “Danny?”

“Danny’s not home right now. Please leave a message,” I mumbled into the pillow.

“Danny needs to move his ass if he wants me to drive him back to Goose Run,” Miller said with a hint of a laugh.

Danny was quite happy staying right here and enjoying this big comfortable bed, thanks.

But Miller was right. I had to collect my truck and hopefully fix it before work, and he had to drive me and then get back to Hopewell in time for his own job, so it wasn’t fair to hold him up.

I pulled myself into a sitting position on the side of the bed so I wouldn’t fall asleep again and spent a minute with my elbows propped on my knees, willing my eyes to stay open.

My ass ached, and I was going to be paying for my lack of sleep all day.

Worth it.

I stood up and shuffled into Miller’s bathroom.

It was about as clean and fancy as he was.

Not like, in a pretentious way, but let’s just say the walls weren’t scuff marked and there wasn’t enough mold on the tiles in the shower to start thinking about growing mushrooms. Our bathroom at home was kind of a dump, which was about fifty percent that it hadn’t been renovated since the 1980s and about fifty percent that the guys and I had been in a kind of a standoff for a while now about cleaning it.

Like, we were all pretending not to notice how gross it was and hoping someone else would deal with it first. Wilder was close to cracking, I was pretty sure.

The water pressure in Miller’s shower was incredible.

The only thing that would have made it better was if he’d stepped inside and joined me, but the door to the bathroom remained closed.

Then again, it was ass o’clock in the morning and my shift at Goose Run Gas started at six.

I felt a twinge of guilt in my gut for Miller having to drive me all the way back to Goose Run, but I squashed it down.

We’d both had fun last night. Hell, I’d be willing to drive at least twice as far for dick that was only half as good.

But then, Miller probably wasn’t as hard up for choice as I was.

Why would he be? He was a hot lawyer with a million- dollar smile.

I was just a regular guy who worked a register in a shitty gas station.

But I was a regular guy who knew when he had a good thing going, so I remembered what Miller had said about moving my ass and finished my shower quickly and got dressed.

When I stepped into the kitchen, he handed me a travel mug of coffee.

He was already dressed in basketball shorts and a hoodie with “Richmond Law” printed across the front. “We’d better hit the road.”

“You don’t want a shower first?”

“Nah. I’ll drop you off. Then I’ll have time for a run before work. I’ll shower after that.”

“The fuck are you running from?” I asked.

He blinked at me like he thought I was serious. Then his mouth twitched. “That fucking goose, for a start.”

“Fair point,” I said. I took a sip of my coffee, which was better than anything Chase had ever made. “Running for fun, though. Who does that?”

“People who want to live past fifty,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“I have good genes. I’m relying on those.”

I didn’t miss the way he looked me up and down. “Yeah, you do.”

After all the things he’d done to me last night, that shouldn’t have been enough to make me blush. I snorted and ducked my head to take another sip from the travel mug.

Miller grabbed his own travel mug and picked up his car keys off the counter. “Got everything?”

I guessed we were on our way.

I trailed down the stairs behind him, still half-asleep despite my hit of caffeine, thinking of just how nice this apartment building was and how if the guys and I lived here we’d be kicked out within a week, probably.

Like, we weren’t bad neighbors, despite what Harlan Whittaker said—we just liked to kick back sometimes, you know?

And I bet the people in this apartment building wouldn’t love our idea of a good time, which was firing up the grill, popping open more than a few beers, and listening to music.

It seemed like more of a poetry, wine, and cheese evening kind of a place.

Miller’s car was parked out on the street. There was enough of a chill in the air that I shivered a little, and Miller glanced at me. He started the ignition and turned the heat up.

“So where am I dropping you?” he asked. “At your truck, or at work, or at your house?”

Jesus. It wasn’t even 5:00 a.m. yet. I wasn’t ready for that level of decision-making.

“Work, I guess,” I said.

“You don’t want to get some fresh clothes?”

“Miller, I work at Goose Run Gas,” I said. “We’re not big on the dress standards thing, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Miller checked his blind spot before pulling out of his parking space. “Yeah, your boss has an interesting fashion style, that’s for sure.”

“Right? It’s like he went to a Fourth of July party and never bothered to change afterward. But it makes the rest of us look good, so.” I shrugged. “Bobby makes his own rules.”

“How did he get to be mayor?”

“He tells everyone he was the best candidate for the job.”

Miller shot me a disbelieving look.

“I mean, he also ran unopposed, so I guess it’s true.”

Miller let out a snort of laughter. “That tracks.”

I leaned back into the comfortable seat and half dozed as Miller took us out of Hopewell. A little while into the drive, the low murmur of a voice dragged me back from the brink of sleep, and I heard, “…construction of the rail line joining Las Vegas and the dam site began in September.”

I straightened up. “What?”

“Oh, do you want to listen to something else?” Miller asked.

“Have you heard of music ?” I asked. “Instead of—of whatever that is.”

“It’s a podcast about the construction of the Hoover Dam.”

“Why?”

“Well, the Bureau of Reclamation wrote a report for the government that?—”

“Fuck, Miller!” I started to laugh. “Is this what you do for fun?”

“It’s interesting!”

“Well, in that case you should drop by my place on the weekend. There’s some grass growing there that will blow your mind.” The look on his face made me laugh even harder. “If you play your cards right, you might even be able to watch some paint dry.”

He rolled his eyes but he was smiling. “It’s educational.”

I grabbed my phone and took a moment to figure out how to connect it to his car. Then I went straight to Spotify, found “Fortunate Son” by Creedence, and turned it up. “ This is educational.”

“I’ve heard Creedence before, Danny,” Miller said with a laugh. His fingers drummed out the rhythm of the song against the steering wheel and when the next song came on, he didn’t make any move to switch his boring-ass podcast back on, so I took it as a win.

We were about ten minutes out of Goose Run when my phone chimed. I pulled it out of my pocket to find a message from Cash with a picture of the truck in the parking lot of Sunny Fields.

Bro, what gives?

And a second later:

You didn’t come home last night. Are u ok?

Cash didn’t say much, but he texted like a champion, and he was a world-class worrier.

Do I need to go wake grandma up and tell her you’re missing?

Shit.

I texted back before he could make good on his threat.

I’m fine. Truck wouldn’t start.

So where are u then?