Page 82 of Miles Apart
Chapter 37
Miles
Emma Douglass has me in my feelings. Witnessing her in her element fills me with pride.
I got to Big Sur last night and have been with her since the 7:00 a.m. call time. There are all types of Pinterest-looking boards with fabrics and pictures of models in lingerie. I don’t know what half of this shit is—computers and codes are my thing—but with all the moving parts at play, Olivia Pope has this shoot handled.
Em moves between her team of photographers, makeup artists, hairstylists, and assistants, working with the models she handpicked for the photo shoot. The weather held up, the threat of storm clouds clearing for sunshine. Models pose under an outdoor shower in front of a backdrop of mountains and redwoods.
Everything is running according to her shoot plan, and when it doesn’t, she pulls an ace out of one of the jumpsuit pockets clinging to her hips.
I almost had to wrestle Emma to get food in her stomach with all the back-and-forth she’s doing.
In the resort spa for interior shots.
Outside on the balcony to capture the Pacific Ocean.
We compromised: she’d take the plate of vegetables and hummus I made for her if I kept my ass quiet in the corner. Fine with me. All the food she ordered for the shoot is over here anyway.
Did I try to trip her at some point to fall into these shoes I brought? Damn right, I did. Only a person itching for corns and blisters stays in heels all day, but, as Emma told me with her full chest, “This isn’t my first rodeo, Miles. I’ll be damned if I pair sneakers with this outfit.”
Like Chucks don’t go with high fashion.
“She’ll learn today,” I mumble to myself, shaking my head at Emma’s stubbornness.
Usually my mama is the only woman whose well-being registers as a priority. Justice gets an honorable mention, but she’s not on the same level as Emma. The instinct to check on her is second nature at this point. I never cared about a woman I fucked until I pressed Emma into the wall of her New York City hotel room and released fifteen years’ worth of pent-up desire.
The truth is, I’ve cared about Emma before we became intimate. I always have, even when I denied it.
Eleven hours pass until the photo shoot wraps. The sun, once searing the shit out the back of my neck through the window, now illuminates the crew who’s packing up the ballroom. Three empty trays I had zero shame eating are next to my laptops on the table. I stretch out my arms and legs and ignore the models stealing glances. I look good in a Henley and denim, but I only have eyes for the woman currently lost in laughter next to a photographer.
Em covers her exhaustion with a smile.I’mtired from watching her, but you’d never know she walked a marathon the way her eyes crinkle. Her thick curls are in a knotted bun, andher navy jumpsuit has no wrinkle in sight. My tagging along has to do with soaking up as much time together as possible, but also ensuring she takes care of herself.
She air-kisses the last photographer and walks over. Gravity pulls at her smile, and her ass drops into a lounge chair. She kicks her feet up onto a metal seat across from me. “Done,” she says with a heavy sigh.
“You handled your business today. Great job, kitten.” I close my laptops and reach for my bag under the table.
Emma sinks further into the upholstered seat, minutes from falling asleep, and smiles. “Thanks for coming.”
“Told you I wouldn’t miss it.”
Her voice softens. “I appreciate it, Miles.”
Our eyes lock with the same sensation that heats my chest whenever I’m near her. Images of a wide smile playing across her lips and her cheeks flushed from orgasms hurtle through my mind. We’ve only scratched the surface together. There’s more, and I’m looking forward to the journey.
“Let’s go, kitten.” I sling my bag over my shoulder and move around the table to pull her up. Her ass really might fall asleep here. She squeals when I toss her over my shoulder. “There’s a hot bath with your name on it.”
My dick surges to life at her groan and takes three reminders to calm the hell down. She had a full day and needs to rest.
Dick will also put her to sleep.
True.
Her body relaxes into mine. “A bed sounds amazing.”
“And it will be, just not the one you booked. I had your bags moved. Did you pack your camping boots like I asked?”
“You know damn well I don’t own any.”
