Page 24 of Deception & Daylight (Oak Ridge #3)
With renewed confidence, I purposefully stride down the hallway, ignoring the groans I hear coming from behind the office door as I make my way back to the bar.
Miles is absently tracing a line of condensation on his glass when I approach.
Fueled by my lingering frustration, I step into his space and wrap my arms around his neck, leaning in f or a filthy kiss.
The women from the bathroom snicker when they pass by, but I’m too distracted by Miles’ hands roaming over my body to care about their muttered insults.
The spell is broken by the shrill ringing of his phone.
Groaning, he checks the caller ID before cupping my cheek.
“Hold that thought,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on my forehead before excusing himself.
He’s gone for a long time, leaving me a mess of mixed emotions, torn between the need to feel his hands on my body, and the sudden urge to flee the scene and forget anything ever happened.
Just when I think this night can’t possibly get any worse, an aggravating voice finds me. “Little Minx.”
“Piece of shit.” I respond.
In a familiar gesture that echoes one I’ve seen Miles make on several occasions, Matty clutches his chest and staggers backwards. “Ouch. That was uncalled for.”
I let out a huff of air, rolling my eyes.
“It was well deserved.” My tone is clipped as I search the bar for any sign of Miles, but he’s nowhere to be seen, and Paige and Cade still haven’t resurfaced from their office tryst. I attempt to lock eyes with Liam from across the room, but he’s busy tending to other customers. It looks like I’m on my own this time.
“Let’s dance,” he demands, tugging violently on my arm. He’s deluded as fuck if he thinks I’d go anywhere with him willingly.
I pull myself from his grip, turning my back to him as I toss a middle finger over my shoulder.
He chuckles darkly and I can feel the heat radiating off his body as he steps impossibly close, his chest pressed up against my back.
His fingers trace down my arm and my entire body locks down, trembling in fear.
I never should have turned my back. What the fuck was I thinking?
“You’re playing with fire, bitch. Wouldn’t want you to get burned.
” The overt threat sends a n icy chill up my spine as his hot breath fans over my neck.
In the blink of an eye, his unwelcome presence is gone, ripped away by a very pissed off Miles.
“Get the fuck away from my girl ,” he seethes, fisting Matty’s shirt as he shoves him back from the bar.
Matty fixes his disheveled clothing, nostrils flaring like a bull ready to charge.
Miles couldn’t be more different from his brother.
In contrast to Matty’s menacing demeanor, Miles is usually laid-back, if a little cocky at times — that is, until his brother threatened me.
Now his body is tense, muscles coiled tight with barely restrained anger.
And fuck if that doesn’t make me want to throw myself at him.
“When are you going to learn, brother? I always get what I want.” Matty’s eyes lock on mine over Miles’ head, and I instinctively reach out a hand, twining my fingers with Miles’ to pull him back towards me in case he decides to let his fists fly.
“It’s not worth it Miles.”
“Get the fuck out of my bar.” Cade’s voice cuts through the tension, his arm wrapped around a very satisfied looking Paige as he holds her back from charging at the piece of shit who dared to threaten her best friend.
Matty’s jaw ticks before he throws his brother one final barb. “Remember our agreement.”
The door slams on its hinges as Matty storms out the back entrance and before I can question what the fuck he meant, Miles has me wrapped in his arms, his huge hand palming the back of my head and I swear I feel his lips on my hair as he inhales.
I shudder thinking about what might have happened if he hadn’t gotten to me in time. I need to stop being so fucking helpless. Damsel in distress is not something I ever wanted to become. Maybe it’s time to find a self-defense class.
Matty’s vague threat looms heavy over the rest of my evening, so we call it an early night with Miles offering to give me a ride back to the inn.
Against my better judgment, and with little hope this evening will take a turn for the better, I agree.
The weight of the last few weeks sinks in as I slump in the passenger seat of his truck, watching the buildings blur outside the window.
The soft hum of an unfamiliar country song fills the silence, Miles murmuring the lyrics under his breath — I never took him for someone who’d sing along to the radio but the gentle hum is almost soothing.
The moment we pull up to the inn barely registers, and before I know it I’m being helped out of the truck by two strong hands gripping my waist.
Something unspoken passes between us as he follows me up the steps.
His knee bumps against mine as we settle on the porch swing, the sound of crickets filling the silence as a slight chill settles in my bones.
He wraps his light blue button down around my shoulders and pulls me into his side in a tender gesture that nearly steals the breath from my lungs.
“Tell me more about your books,” he whispers.
I sigh. “About that. Can we keep that between us? I’m not ready for everyone to know about it.”
Miles shifts to face me, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Why? You should be so fucking proud of yourself.”
“What do you know about my books, anyway?” I ask, holding back a smile.
“I may have read a few reviews here and there.”
There’s something he’s not saying. “And?”
“And maybe I read a few chapters of ‘Love Between Loathing’.”
“How man y is a few?”
He has the audacity to look sheepish when he says, “All of it.”
Unrestrained laughter bursts out of me as I consider the implications.
Miles Barlow read my debut novel — the one I wrote after he shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces.
Fuck my life. My cheeks heat as I recall a particularly spicy chapter involving a hand necklace and gratuitous use of the words “good girl”.
Miles shifts on the swing, his hand cradling my cheek as he tilts my head to meet his gaze.
“You’re an incredible writer, Mags.” Of all the things I expected him to say, that simple statement wasn’t even on my radar.
Serious moments with Miles are few and far between, and I’ll never admit that I enjoy our playful banter more than I should, but this sweet version of him has me tied up in knots.
“Thank you. But please don’t tell anyone. Not yet.”
“My lips are sealed. Besides, I don’t know how I’d explain the raging boner I popped in the middle of the trailer surrounded by my crew during our lunch break while I was reading chapter fifteen on my phone.
” His confession leaves me breathless as I dissolve into a fit of giggles right there on the front porch of his mother’s inn, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“I’m glad you think it’s funny. It took a well placed tool belt and a trip to the bathroom to get things under control. I couldn’t even look at Luca for the rest of the day.”
I sniffle, swiping away the dampness on my cheeks. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m good.”
Miles plucks me out of my seat and onto his lap, one leg on each side of his hips. “What’s so funny, Mags? The very public boner? Or the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about wrapping my hand around your pretty little neck while I fucked your face and called you my good girl?”
My pussy c lenches as his gravelly voice leaves a trail of goosebumps along my flesh.
His hand takes position exactly as he described, and I long for him to tighten his grip ever so slightly.
He leans over, his lips barely a breath away from my ear.
“Would you like that, pretty girl? You want to choke on my dick?”
I can’t seem to form words as I inhale a shaky breath, my hips instinctively rolling against the growing bulge in his jeans. He groans with my movement. “Bet you’d look so goddamn pretty with tears streaming down your cheeks while you tried to take all of me to the back of your throat.”
He palms my hips, guiding my movements over his lap, eliciting a filthy moan from my slightly parted lips. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head to the sky and sigh, each thrust of his hips into my core sending me reeling. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“That’s it. Use me.”
He grips me tighter, speeding up my motions and I know I’ll have new bruises on my hips tomorrow — ones I chose; ones I’m not ashamed of. All thoughts evaporate as he brings me to the brink of orgasm, but before I can take the plunge into pure bliss, I freeze. “Daylight.”
He stills, the heat in his eyes replaced by concern as he sweeps the hair out of my face, cupping my cheeks. “What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.” I feel exposed under his scrutiny, as though he can see the cracks in my carefully crafted facade.
“I… I can’t.” I choke back a sob, holding my emotions at bay as he kisses me softly, reverently.
My chest heaves and I lean my forehead against his shoulder while he fixes my clothing.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, stroking a hand over my hair and down my spine before trailing back up, repeating the motion.
It feels like he’s carefully stitching me back together, and that soothes me in a way I never expected.
Finally relaxed after a night rifle with tension, I let him hold me, soaking in his warmth.
Time passes in a blur; minutes, maybe hour s, fade away until I’m being carefully lifted into the air and deposited in my bed with a gentle forehead kiss, the soft click of the bedroom door telling me I’m alone.
My heart sinks at the sudden realization that maybe I’m tired of being alone.
Maybe I want someone to finally see me. Choose me. Keep me.