Page 72 of Miles Apart
I step back to let him in and fail miserably at blinking away the confusion on my face at his presence. He’s staying here but isn’t supposed to behere.
Prying myself away from the attraction holding me in place is damn near impossible. It’s overpowering, daring me to look Miles in his probing eyes. There’s desire in them, but also affection.
He steps closer. “You in pain?”
“I’m uncomfortable,” I admit, not that it isn’t obvious.
He nods and toes off his shoes to place near the back door. He rinses out my empty ice cream pint, tosses it in the recycling, throws the spoon in the sink, and grabs the heating pad. I’m airborne before I process him moving us upstairs.
My eyes balloon as Miles carries me bridal style. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
I open my mouth to scold him until he walks through my bedroom and heads straight to the bathroom. I skimped on a large walk-in shower for space to have a freestanding tub.
Miles sits me on top of my double vanity. “Salts and bubbles?” I hold in a chuckle at his question and point below my feet. He drops to his haunches and pulls out a wire basket with my bath accessories, but not before his thumb skims up my calf. I shudder at his touch and watch in silence as he tests the water temperature, sprinkles salt, and squirts aromatherapy bath liquid.
Once it’s ready, Miles scoops me off the counter and carries me to the bath like the distance is a trek and not a few feet. I unknot my robe and let it pool at my feet. His eyes smolder at the curves of my naked frame. I don’t feel my best, but I look good. He steps out for me to discard my tampon and pulls the pouf next to the tub once I’m in.
The lights dim on command from the remote in his hand. I sink into the tub and moan at the first strokes of a sponge on my shoulders.
“This okay?”
My eyes flutter closed. I lift my chin to expose my collarbone, which he cleans. “Yes.”
Miles bathes me and massages my aching muscles, sending me to heaven. He erased every pain and discomfort with hands that have yet to leave my body. His touch isn’t sexual. It’s soft, a steady pressure devoted to my well-being.
“Did you have a good time tonight with Brandice?”
He studies me. “It was alright.” His fingers trail down my neck. “She’s someone I can kick it with who’s down for whatever.”
I pull in a breath and nod. Of course they hit it off. It’s neither surprising nor unexpected. Miles is fine to the fifth power. I don’t know Brandice personally, but she’s attractive. They’re both single and free to do what they want, and a tryst is no different than our setup. Hell, she’s in his backyard. Why not sample each other now?
My mind understands the logic, but my heart twists. As casual as I’ve been with partners, I don’t want to share Miles. Not his time, and certainly not his body.
You need to tell him.
Feelings are territory I don’t wander into intentionally. I’ve had them before, but never this strong or this quick. I thrive on being in charge, and a relationship has too many variables that leave you vulnerable. Does Miles feel the same, or is this kind of attention for whatever woman holds his interest?
“Do you take a lot of baths when you aren’t feeling well?”
“That’s the question you want to ask me?” A shadow of annoyance crosses Miles’s face at my change in subject. His forearms flex over the lip of the tub as his gaze sharpens. He breaks his stare to reach for my foot. “I’m not into them, but my mama was. She had all types of lotions and shit from catalogs. She worked too much to use them, but I added to her collection with the money I made. Now I pay for her fancy spa visits.”
My smile switches to a groan as his firm hands rub the arches in my foot with perfect pressure. “You’re a good son.”
“I try to be.” He chuckles. “Deborah Walker will always have the best. I take care of mine.”
He tugs on my other foot, exciting a fresh wave of pleasure. I sit back, my nipples peeking through the now bubble-free water and catching his eye. My breasts tingle under the stroke of his unwavering eye contact. “Feel better, kitten?”
I suck my lip between my teeth and damn near purr. This man is good with his hands. My body settles, every ache long gone. “Yes,” I say through a moan that arches my back.
“You asked about Brandice,” Miles says, his eyes still on me. “I could fuck her, but I don’t want her. We both know she and anyone else are a distraction.” My breath hitches at the deep circles he rubs into my thighs. “Aren’t you tired?”
“Of?” My clit pulses.
“Fighting this. We are inevitable.”
His mouth collides with mine. Miles kisses me like it’s the first time his lips are discovering mine. He slips his tongue in my mouth and presses me against the hard shell of his chest. Water sloshes in the tub and sends a wave into his dress shirt he removes without pulling his lips from mine.
