8

Cleo

Oh, Heaven

Miles placed his hand on my lap in the car, leisurely, casually. Like we'd done it a thousand times before. I held my breath while he brushed up my skirt. His hand vanished underneath it, rubbing his thumb on the inside of my thigh. A shiver ran down my back. Tension wrung me out, but even more than that, anticipation took hold.

I knew how it'd go. I knew he'd touch me further, finally give me a little of the relief I craved.

But he did not .

He didn't do anything. Miles was content.

I tried to rub my thighs together, but he didn't move an inch. With a glance his way, I realized what he was doing. "Why are you doing this to me? You're being mean."

"Thank you." He flashed me another grin. "You're trouble."

"You can't—"

"If I touch you any further, I'm pulling this car over and fucking you on the side of the road."

The deepest blush I'd ever felt painted my cheeks.

"But I don't want that," he finished and tightened his hold around my thigh. "Not yet."

"It'd be easier," I suggested, only too aware of how I sounded. If I asked outright, I knew he'd say no, but I couldn't stop the part of me that wanted him so badly to just pull the car over. I swallowed. "Wouldn't it be easier? More private, even."

"More private?" he asked.

"Much more private."

"You're saying you don't want to be seen at my apartment?"

"Are you kidding?" I blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. "Miles, you've got to know how inappropriate this is."

"How…?"

"I'm part of the scouting team. Even if you're not going to Marrs, you've still signed the paperwork. We need to talk about perimeters. This has to be quiet. I want to become head intern and—oh— oh —"

Miles squeezed my thigh and swiped three of his fingers down the inside, closer to my panties. He couldn't do that to me. How could he do that to me? I pressed my legs together, trying to focus on exactly what I'd been talking about.

"How long does this have to be private?" he asked, as if he didn't just ease a moan out of me.

My mind wasn't clear enough to comprehend the question.

"How long—what—?"

"How long does this have to be private? This thing between us?"

I couldn't believe it. I actually couldn't believe it.

"Miles…."

"You didn't think I'd let you stroll through the door and stroll right out, did you, vixen?"

His hand slipped down even further, and I stiffened in the seat, drawing in deep breaths. With soft, slow strokes, he caressed my panties. It barely gave me what I needed. I tried to take his hand further, but he was too strong. Miles didn't budge. He would touch me how he wanted to.

" Miles ."

"You have to feel this connection between us. There's no way I'm the only one feeling this."

His car sped down the road, pushing past whatever the speed limit was. Oklahoma fields flew past me, nothing concrete I could focus on. All I could focus on was the way he caressed my panties and the stickiness between my thighs.

"I can't wait to have you begging for it," he murmured.

"Just pull over."

"I could," he allowed. "I could pull over right here on the side of the road…I could bend you over the hood of my car, wrap my fingers in that red hair, pull up that skirt of yours, and make you mine tonight…but I'm not going to waste my time on the road. I told you that."

"You're horrible."

He smirked. "You'll say that until I'm sucking your clit."

The drive was achingly long, and all Miles did was tease me. By the time we were at his apartment, I was panting with need.

I stumbled away from the car when he opened the door for me, but Miles caught me. I was just too overwhelmed. Having him helped and didn't help at the same time. My thoughts weren't collected through the elevator ride or the short walk down the hallway or standing in front of his door.

When I looked up, Miles caught my eye and he slowly pushed open the door. He didn't walk in though. Just gazed back at me.

I could get lost in those eyes if I wanted to. It was just too easy. With a slow breath in, he dipped down and brushed his lips against mine again.

Oh. Heaven .

He deepened the kiss and stepped closer, forcing me back against the archway of the door. There was nowhere else to move. He pinned me against the frame.

Fuck .

"You're so beautiful when you're flustered," he whispered against the curve of my mouth. "You should be flustered more often."

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus again. "We should talk."

"I don't want to."

"It'd be…the right thing to do—"

"You know what would be the right thing?" Miles tilted my chin up and waited until I opened my eyes. "You, naked, lying on my bed, relaxed . That's the right thing."

As much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn't. I wanted that.

I wanted to lie on his bed and let him do whatever he wanted to me. Consequences be damned. I'd focus on them later. In the meantime, I needed Miles Locke and I needed him badly.

Without my retort, Miles glowed with smug satisfaction and brought me inside. It was dark and quiet. I couldn't see much of anything as Miles led me to the left, inside another room.

Definitely Miles's room.

It was the complete bachelor pad. Old football memorabilia, video games on the table, family pictures from Nevada covered the walls, all of it Miles. I drank it in, taking a wide sweep of the dark room.

But the realization of what I was doing startled me.

When had I ever gone to a hookup's room and started analyzing the furniture, looking for pieces of him?