He half listened, staring over the tops of trees onto the lake below the house.
“I also finished calling everyone on his list and informing them about his passing, and Tobin wanted to come over but I told him to wait until tomorrow.” She lifted her thumb to her lips and chewed on the edge nervously. “Was that okay?”
“Yeah, I don’t want to talk to people tonight.”
“Oh, okay.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the next. “Is there anything else you need? Otherwise, I’ll head upstairs. Still have a bit of packing to do, but I don’t have too much stuff here, most of it’s still at my parents’.”
Miles lifted his head to really look at her for the first time since she’d come outside. She had changed since this morning and was now wearing all black—a small thing, but it meant a lot to him. Her blond locks were pulled into a messy bun, and she looked exhausted, probably because she’d been working all day. She’d coordinated with the funeral home and taken care of everything for him. “What? You’re leaving?”
“Well, yeah,” she said slowly, her eyes meeting his.
He realized hers were puffy and red-rimmed, and he felt a bit of remorse that he was sitting out here grieving alone, when others were grieving too.
“I was your dad’s nurse, Miles. My job’s over.”
“So, that’s it?” Miles asked with a flash of frustration, and maybe even a little anger. “You just leave? Now?”
She frowned. “It’s not like that, Miles. You know it’s not. My contract here is up, and the living arrangement I had with your father was only because I was also working for him.”
He studied her for a minute then nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
She shrugged, her arms wrapped around her waist as if she was hugging himself.
Taking another sip of his whiskey, he emptied the glass. He didn’t feel tipsy, and he hadn’t had much to drink anyways, but he did feel a sadness that seemed like it had no end, like there was nothing that could ever take it away.
“You can stay if you want,” he said slowly, placing his glass down on the table and standing. “This is your home as much as it’s mine. You took care of him—you took care of me.”
“Miles.” She sighed softly and stepped toward him. “I have to go.”
He reached for her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers and pulling it to his chest. He held her hand in both of his, cradled against his chest. “Do you have to go tonight?”
She shook her head slowly.
The feeling of her fingers around his, the heat of her skin against his, it brought back every moment of their time together. The reminder of how good they’d felt together, and how when he was with her, everything else had fallen away.
He wanted today to fall away.
He wanted her.
“Can you stay, Zo?” he asked again, his voice dropping in tenor as he stepped forward and closed the distance between them.
She lifted her free hand to his cheek, gently brushing his jaw as he leaned into her palm. “For tonight.”
He lowered his head to hers, barely touching her lips with his, and then suddenly touching all of her at once. He let go of her hand, only to wrap his arms around her back, holding her to him as she anchored her arms around his neck.
Miles’s tongue slid between her lips as their kiss deepened, and he tasted everything he’d been missing as his heart pounded in his chest. Some part of him that had been empty ever since he’d last touched her was overflowing again, and he felt both light and heavy at the same time.
The pain from his father’s passing was not gone—not even close—but there was also something else now, something good, and he wanted more. His hands slid down her back until he reached her ass, gripping and lifting as he pulled her against him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Carrying her, their lips still pressed together, he walked inside and with only a little bit of difficulty, closed the porch door behind them. Moments later, they were up the stairs and in his bedroom, his knees pressed against the edge of the bed as he lowered her down. The moment she hit the mattress, she scooted back until she was in the middle of the bed, and he followed her.
His body covered hers, and she took his face in her hands, kissing him gently, slowly, as if she wanted him to slow down and feel every moment of it. But he didn’t want to slow down, he didn’t want to feel anything except her skin against his, and her lips on his.
He wrapped his arms around her back, hugging her to him as he moved to kiss her, but her hands on his chest stopped him. Her eyes searched his for a moment, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath. “Miles, are you sure about this?”
He blinked, trying to shift his focus from the shape of her lips and the blush of her cheeks, to her words and the concern on her face. “What?”
She exhaled slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “You’ve been through a lot today.”
“I know,” he told her, because that was exactly why he was so sure this was what he wanted. He’d had his reasons for breaking things off with her, but they were becoming harder and harder to remember right now.
He wanted her, not just tonight, but always. She was it for him—she always had been, and he had to hope maybe she could forgive the things he’d said and done and see he’d never be able to love another woman the way he loved her.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she whispered, his lips trailing over hers in soft caresses.
“We’ll see.”
He kissed her again, beckoning for her to stay a lot longer than tonight. Sliding his hands down her body, he gripped the bottom edge of her shirt and pushed it up her stomach, his palm flat against her skin as she shivered beneath him. His fingers pushed against the lining of her bra, slipping underneath until he cupped her breast in his hand and moved his thumb back and forth across her nipple.
She moaned against his mouth, pushing her hips off the bed and grinding them into his as she clutched his biceps. Squirming beneath him, she reached down and yanked her top over her head and tossed it to the side. He slid a hand behind her back and unfastened her bra easily, and she threw it off the bed.
Dipping his head down to her body, he trailed his tongue from the underside of her breast to her nipple, flicking across it before drawing it into his mouth. She gasped and he pressed harder, devouring her as he used his tongue to make her body begin to tremble.
On his knees now, he gripped his shirt from the back of his neck and pulled it over his head, tossing it away. Her eyes traveled down his chest and her hands quickly followed as she raked her fingers from his pecs to his abs. She looked like she was about to say something, so he leaned down and kissed her instead.
He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to second guess.
He only wanted to feel her with him, like it was the most natural thing in the world, because they were. Her hands slid between them and he felt her tugging on his pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them down his hips. Leaning to the side, he kicked his pants the rest of the way off as she quickly pushed out of hers as well.
Lacy pink panties stared back at him and he pushed her knees apart as he climbed between. Lowering his mouth between her legs, he placed a kiss against the fabric directly over her core. She thrust her hips against his face and he smiled at how needy she was.
Despite their month apart, nothing had changed. Her body still responded to him in the same way he’d loved—wanton and uninhibited. Hooking a finger under the fabric, he pulled it to the side and slid his tongue through her folds.
Zoe cried out, her back arching off the bed as she shook against him. With one quick yank, he ripped the panties off her body and pushed one palm flat on her lower belly, applying a pressure he knew would build exponentially. His other hand slid between her legs as two fingers pushed inside her and his tongue moved in slow circles over her clit.
It didn’t take long for her trembling to turn into her climax
as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of her slit, sucking her clit into his mouth, and moaning against it. She shook and gasped, and he took everything she had to offer until her body fell apart against him.
Pushing to his knees, he removed his boxer briefs and reached into his nightstand, grabbing a foil packet, then ripping it open. Without hesitation, he slid the protection onto his length then covered her body with his once more.
Kissing her, he dipped his tongue between her lips, wanting her to taste herself and see why he loved being between her legs so much. He hooked his arm behind one of her knees, lifting one of her legs in the air as he pushed himself against her core, sliding inside.
Zoe gasped and jolted, then moaned with pleasure as she pushed her hips forward, begging for more.
Miles closed his eyes, unable to keep a similar moan from his own lips as he felt her warmth squeezing him, and she was everything he remembered her to be.
“Fuck, Zoe, I love being inside you,” he whispered in short breaths against her ear as he thrust against her.
Gripping her hair, he pulled her head back enough to have access to her neck, kissing and nibbling until she was panting so hard he decided to slow down and prolong the moment.
“Miles,” she gasped as he trailed his tongue up her neck. “Oh, God, yes.”
She pulsed around him as he pushed into her harder, faster, needing more, needing her. He pulled back on her hair a bit more and growled against her neck, then brought his lips to her ear. “Did you miss this, cricket? Did you miss me?”
He wasn’t even sure why he said it, but suddenly he had to know he wasn’t alone, that she was feeling just as much as he was right now.
Her hands cupped his face and she kissed him gently on the lips, slowing everything down for a moment as her eyes searched his. “Miles, of course. Of course, I missed you. I lo—”
He shoved his mouth down on hers, kissing her words away. He’d wanted to know, but suddenly it was too much, and he couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear her say she loved him, and he had no idea why.
She moaned against his lips, her tongue sliding between them as she gave just as much as he did. He thrust harder, grabbing her hips and lifting them off the bed to meet him. Groaning at the new angle, he felt himself getting closer to climax.
“Touch yourself. Now,” he instructed in a low timbre. “Come with me.”
She slid a hand between them, finding her clit and rubbing circles over it furiously as he slammed into her until they were both trembling with the beginnings of their orgasms, the sensations of the others pushing them over the edge. She cried out and fell back against the mattress, trembling around him and beneath him as she pulsed with the waves of her orgasm.
Her movements only furthered his own as he groaned and fell forward against her, his body not in his control as his climax took him and he released inside her. His face buried in the crook of her neck, panting, he placed small kisses against the underside of her jaw.
“I’ve missed you,” he found himself whispering.
Her eyes fluttered back open, sleep beginning to take over as she smiled at him. “I know.”
“It was never just sex, Zoe.”
A soft chuckle escaped her lips. “I know that, too.”
His heart pounded in his chest as he kissed her, and he wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t burst because after a month of being apart, he couldn’t fathom how he’d ever survived a moment of it. Pushing off the bed, he headed to the bathroom to go clean up, rejoining her in the bed a few minutes later.
Curled in the sheets, she was already fast asleep and clutching a pillow. He smiled as he climbed in behind her, pressing his chest to her back and wrapping his arms around her. She sighed softly and leaned into him, her breathing gentle and rhythmic as she slept.
Miles kissed her neck just below her ear and dropped his head to the pillow behind her, closing his eyes. Sleep began to overtake him, but he whispered gently to her one last thing, even though she couldn’t hear him.
“I love you, too, Zoe.”
26
Zoe stretched an arm over the bed to reach for Miles, a chill running across her skin making her want to cuddle into him. When her fingers found nothing, she frowned and opened her eyes.
Miles was standing next to the bed, facing away from her, the early morning sun coming through the window casting a glow around his silhouette.
“Miles?” she asked, pushing up on her elbows to look at him. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer but his body seemed like it was shaking.
Reaching for his shirt strewn across the foot of the bed after last night, Zoe slid it over her head and down her body. Climbed out of bed on the side closest to her, she began walking around the end of the bed to come over to where he was standing.
“Miles? What are you doing?” She yawned, the early hour and their late bedtime not doing much for her energy level. “Is everything okay?”
She reached a hand out and touched his arm, her fingers gently squeezing his bicep, as she wondered why he was standing there naked. His head turned quickly, his eyes pierced through her.
Zoe froze, an overwhelming sense of dread filling her as her heart fell into her stomach. His stare was empty, cold, and completely void of anything, void of him. It was as if she was staring at a completely different person.
This was not Miles.
Just as quickly as she realized that, his balled fist rocketed toward her, and she jumped sideways in an attempt to move out of his path. She wasn’t entirely successful though, and his fist clipped the side of her shoulder. She stumbled backward with both the impact and her sudden jump.
Unable to catch her balance, she hit the floor, her back flat against the bedroom carpet as she coughed, the wind knocked out of her. Rubbing her shoulder, pain radiated out from the impacted spot as she stared at the ceiling in shock. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes, a loud sob ripping from her throat as her emotions overtook her.
“Zoe?” Miles was kneeling at her side in seconds, his expression completely different than seconds before. He was back, and his eyes were filled with shock and concern. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Are you hurt?”
“What do you mean—am I hurt?” she choked out, anger mixing with tears. “You hit me! You literally just punched me in my shoulder, and you’re asking if I’m hurt? Of course, I’m hurt!”
Pushing up on her good arm, she sat and moved her injured shoulder around. Upon inspection, it actually didn’t hurt much, as he’d mostly missed when she’d jumped out of the way.
“I mean, it doesn’t really hurt, but still,” she said, a little sullener this time, because damn it, he’d scared the shit out of her and she was allowed to be mad.
Miles’s mouth fell open as he stepped back, his hands running across his face and over his head to the back of his neck. “I didn’t…I…what? I don’t understand what happened.”
Her tears were mostly dried as the shock of it all wore off, but her anger was still close to the surface. “I walked up to you and you hit me, and I nearly had a damn heart attack. That’s what happened.”
She wiped at her face with her hands as she got to her feet and began searching around the room for her clothes. For some reason, she needed to be fully clothed right now—less vulnerable, less open.
He grabbed the banister at the end of the bed, watching her get dressed. A stricken expression took his face as he shook his head. “I didn’t mean to…I-I-I didn’t know…I thought I was…oh, my God, I’m so sorry, Zoe.”
She’d pulled on her pants, still wearing his tee shirt, and turned to look at him. His eyes were wide, his brows pushed together, and his jaw tight—shame and horror filled his expression.
The anger in her belly slowly began to dissipate, and she moved to sit on the edge of the bed to catch her breath—keeping mind, to put a good distance between them.
“Zoe, I was dreaming—nightmares, actually,” he started, sounding genuine r
ather than like he was making excuses.
Tears flowed down his cheeks. They were beautiful and full of so many words that she wanted to reach forward and touch them with her fingertips, let them speak to her skin in a way he’d never spoken to her.
Miles took a slow step toward her, but stopped when she eyed him warily. “I didn’t know what I was doing, but that’s no excuse for my behavior. I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am—so, so sorry.” He glanced down at her arm. “Can I take you to the doctor? Or call a friend who can take you if you don’t want me to?”
A frown pulled on the corners of her lips as she exhaled loudly. “I don’t need a doctor. It’s actually not that bad.”
“Still, maybe it’s best for someone to look at it…” he trailed off, swallowing heavily. “Or maybe you’ll let me look at it?”
“No!” she said faster than she’d meant to. The pain on his face at her sudden refusal made her heart hurt. “Please, just…I need a moment.”
“Yeah, of course,” he agreed quickly.
Zoe lay back against the bed, staring at the ceiling as her feet dangled over the edge. What the hell just happened?
She struggled to pull it apart in her mind. He had post-traumatic stress disorder which caused his weird sleep behaviors, nightmares, etc—she’d known that for a while. But he’d been getting treatment over the last few weeks and was improving. Then his father had died yesterday, and so a setback was probably not surprising right now.
However, the man she loved had just hit her. Sort of.
That was usually a deal breaker. It should be a deal breaker.
So, why did she not feel…broken?
“All right, here’s the deal,” Zoe said, sitting back up and taking a deep breath. “You need to go see a counselor. Today. And then regularly, or more regularly than you already are. This kind of thing can’t happen again.”