Page 28 of Deception & Daylight (Oak Ridge #3)

Miles

? Back to You - Selena Gomez

S ilence fills the cab as I pull up outside the inn. Movement in the shadows snags my attention, and I throw out an arm, stopping Mags from getting out. “Wait. Something’s not right.”

She scoffs and unbuckles her seatbelt but then she hears it, too — a crack of a branch and a strange rustling floating in through the open window. “For once in your life, stop being fucking stubborn, Mags.”

She sinks back into her seat, arms crossed over her chest. “By all means. Better you than me.”

“Your confidence is inspiring, Sugar Tits.”

“Never call me that ever again.”

I mime striking it off a list on the palm of my hand, catching a hint of a smile tugging at her lips, but she quickly reels it back in.

Feeling around behind my seat, my hand closes around the narrow end of a baseball bat before carefully stepping out of my truck.

Not the best weapon, I’ll admit, but it’s all I’ve got to work with.

I keep my foo tsteps light as I make my way towards where I spotted movement.

Shadows pass over the side of the inn and my pulse ratchets up.

“I have a weapon.” I cringe at the stupidity of my proclamation, but it’s too late to take it back.

There’s another rustling before I see it — a raccoon with a massive slice of pizza in its tiny humanoid hands.

The open box sits behind one of Ma’s rose bushes, crumbs and crust littering the flowerbed.

It jerks back then stills as I lock eyes with the creature.

It’s small, likely still a baby. Laughter drifts from behind me and it startles, scurrying off behind the gazebo.

The truck door slams and I turn to find Maggie doubled over in laughter.

Between gasps she says, “Were you really about to go all Babe Ruth on that poor baby?”

“It could’ve been a stalker or something.”

Mags places her palms over her chest. “My hero. What would I ever do without you?”

I step into her space, leaning down so we’re nearly nose to nose.

Her breath hitches and her facial expression sobers.

Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, I murmur, “Good thing we don’t have to find out.

” She raises onto her toes, her lips ghosting over mine as her arms wrap around my neck.

The baseball bat falls to the sidewalk with a crack and I slam our lips together, devouring her mouth in a punishing kiss.

I’ll never get enough of this woman; not in a million lifetimes.

My hands slide over her ribs as her fingers rake through my hair.

The sound of a screen door cracking against a doorframe startles us apart. “Get a room,” Ma says, staring at us with a bemused smile. “Oh wait. You already have one. Nice shirt, Mags.”

I glance down at the graphic tee that says “Miles Barlow’s girlfriend” and a wave of possessiveness washes over me.

She has no idea her little stunt has backfired — she’s never getting rid of me now.

I’d tattoo “Property of Maggie Watson” on my fucking forehead if I wasn’t bound and d etermined to change her last name someday.

Maggie clears her throat. “I better…” she gestures over her shoulder towards the inn where my mother is still watching us. “Goodnight, Miles.”

I palm her hip and pull her to me. “Not so fast.” My breath fans over her ear and she shivers. “She’s watching. We need to put on a show.” It’s a lie, but I’ll milk this excuse for all it’s worth. I kiss her neck and her nails dig into my chest.

“Miles,” she breathes. As if on instinct, my cock hardens at the sound of my name on her lips.

I repeat the action, kissing along every bit of exposed skin I can find.

She mewls and sighs with every brush of my lips until I hear the door open and shut again.

She attempts to push me away, but not before I place one last gentle kiss behind her ear, eliciting a soft intake of air.

“Goodnight, Wildcat.”

I stare up at the ceiling in my all too quiet house, watching the blades of the ceiling fan circle overhead, wondering, not for the first time, how I’m going to convince Maggie to stay with me.

I’ve always loved this house — it was one of my first flips after my apprenticeship.

It’s not perfect, but it’s always been home.

Lately, though, it feels like something is missing.

Turning onto my side, I snag my phone off the nightstand.

Miles: Pick you up on Friday 7pm for our date.

Mags: I don’t remember agreeing to a date.

Miles: It was implied when you bought me at auction like some kind of prized cattle.

Mags: It was a pity purchase.

Miles: Didn’t feel like pity when you came on my cock tonight. I can almost still feel you clenching around me.

I’m treading dangerous waters, but I couldn’t care less if I drown. I’d rather let the tide pull me under than walk away from the only woman who’s ever made me feel seen and understood. Maggie Watson is a risk I’d take every time.

Mags: Women are really good at faking it. Shame you can’t tell the difference.

Miles: Nothing about what we did was fake, baby. I bet you’re still fucking soaked for me.

Three little bubbles dance once, then twice, before they disappear entirely. Not willing to let the conversation die, I tap out another text.

Miles: Am I turning you on, Mags?

Mags: In your dreams.

Miles: Every night, Wildcat. I wake up with a hard on every goddamn day and the only thing that can satisfy me is the thought of you riding me.

Mags: Tell me more.

Fuck. Yes.

I pull down my boxers, freeing my already hard cock, giving it a rough tug before I snag Maggie’s lacy panties from my nightstand, wrapping them around my fist.

This time, instead of a text, I send a voice memo. “Now that I know what you taste like, what you sound like when you fall apart, nothing will ever fucking compare. I don’t have to wait to dream about you. I can just lay here and relive each memory on a loop.”

Silence stretches as I stroke myself, pre-cum beading at the tip as I replay every moment of our encounter in the alley.

Just when I think she’s not going to respond, my phone lights up with an incoming call.

I swipe to answer and the sight that greets me is straight out of a wet dream.

Maggie’s laid back on the oversized bed, one hand between her legs with her tee pulled up over her tits.

She must have propped the phone up on her nightstand because I can see everything she’s doing.

Her expression is one of pure ecstasy as her fingers glide through her slit.

“Fuck, baby. You look so goddamn sexy like that.”

She moans, one hand gently skating up over her taut belly to pinch her perfect pink nipple. I groan, furiously stroking my shaft, the texture of the lace adding the perfect amount of friction. “Look at me,” I command.

Her eyes are heavily lidded, breaths coming out in pants as she glances at the phone.

“That’s my girl. Are you gonna come for me Mags?

Gonna scream my name as you i magine my face between your soft thighs; my tongue working you over slowly, torturously?

Taking you right to the edge and keeping you there? ”

“Miles.” Her back arches off the bed as she plunges two fingers inside. She’s close, but I’m not ready for this to end.

“Stop.”

Her eyes narrow but she doesn’t obey my command.

“Careful, Wildcat. You keep going and I’ll have to punish you later.

” She smirks, her fingers retreating from her entrance to circle her clit.

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she stifles a sigh.

“Don’t come,” I say, my voice strangled as I approach my release.

“Don’t you fucking dare come until I say so, Mags.

” My ab muscles flex as my pulse ratchets up.

I’m ready to blow as I watch Maggie’s chest rise and fall in a frantic rhythm.

“Please,” she begs, her hands slowing ever so slightly.

“Fuck. You have no idea what you do to me. I love hearing you beg so prettily.”

“Please, Miles.”

“Come for me.”

Her hands work with increasing urgency, bringing her closer to the bring of orgasm, but she doesn’t come. Her brow furrows in concentration and she quiets. “That’s it. Get yourself there, Mags. Come with me.”

She chokes on a sob, “I… I can’t.” My heart leaps into my throat as I realize this is what she meant. She can’t do it on her own. I stop my motions and sit up on the bed, my face filling the phone screen.

“Eyes on me and listen to my voice, baby. I’m right here.

You can do this. Just imagine those are my hands playing with your pretty pussy.

My lips sucking on your gorgeous tits. I’d take such good care of you.

” She stares through the screen, straight into my soul, and what I see there damn near cracks my heart in two.

The heat in her eyes masks an underlying sadness that nearly suffocates me with its intensity.

She needs me and I won’t let her falter.

“Trust me, okay? Do exactly what I say and we’ll get you there.

Slide up on the bed, prop yourself higher on the pillows and spread your legs wider.

That’s it. Such a good girl. Now I want two fingers in your perfect cunt.

Slide them in and out, stroking that spot inside of you that makes you shiver.

Now imagine my tongue working your clit and use your fingers there, too. ”

I prop my phone on my nightstand and sink back into the pillows, wrapping my hand around my cock again.

“So fucking perfect. Look what you do to me, Mags.” Her eyes lock on where I’m stroking myself, and I can tell she’s getting closer as she watches the muscles in my forearms rippling while I work my fist over the head.

“This cock belongs to you.” This man belongs to her, too. But I can’t say that. Not yet.

I let out a guttural groan as she licks her perfect pink lips.

“You like that? You like knowing how hard you make me? Fuck. I want to sink into your tight cunt and fuck you into the mattress. I want to feel you come around my cock as I bury myself inside of you and fill you with my cum. And just when you think I’m done, I’ll flip you over and finger fuck your ass while I eat your pussy, tasting both of us on my tongue. ”

“Oh god. I’m so close.”

“That’s it, baby. Imagine how good it’ll feel when I devour you whole, making you come on my face.

I bet you’d squirt so fucking good for me.

” I can feel my release building along my spine as the words leave my lips.

Mags finally screams out her orgasm, pulling me along with her as I coat my fist and stomach. “That’s my girl. ”

Mags

My first instinct after I come down from the high is to scream and cry and bury myself in the pillows and never come out. But I somehow manage to hold it together, though my hold on my emotions is fragile at best.

Miles excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving me staring at an empty bed.

His room is dimly lit by a bedside lamp, but I can just make out the dark grey bed sheets on a large black bed.

The comforter is rumpled near the footboard, and there’s a stack of throw pillows tossed onto the other side.

The room is massive, with a vaulted ceiling and exposed wood beams. I’m not sure what I was expecting from Miles’ bedroom, but I shouldn’t be surprised by the impeccable design.

I’ve seen a few of his projects here at the inn and Paige and Cade’s cabin.

Every space he’s renovated looks like it belongs in a home and garden magazine.

Miles steps back into the frame in a pair of grey sweatpants, still no shirt in sight, and the view should be illegal. “You okay?”

I hate the words as soon as he says them, and it makes me want to throw my phone across the room, but I’m exhausted and I don’t have any fight left in me. “I’m fine.”

“Do you want me to let you go?”

“No.” The word rushes out of me before I can think better of it. “Can you stay on the phone with me? Just until I fall asleep.” The request feels far too intimate, but I can’t bring myself to regret it.

“Of course.” There’s something indescribable in the way he’s looking at me. “I could come over, if you want.”

“We can’t. The rules.”

“Fuck the rules, Mags. I just want to hold you.”

His words send a jolt of longing straight through me, but I can’t let them take root. Miles Barlow isn’t mine to keep, even if I can no longer find it in me to deny t he tether that draws me to him.