House Rules

by Rebecca Brooke

  But Miller’s place was much bigger.

  “Really? And which room did you find yourself in?”

  I leaned back on the couch and flicked off the TV. I had a feeling this conversation was about to get a whole lot more interesting. “The great room.”

  There was a low hum over the line. “We haven’t been in there yet.”

  “No, we haven’t.”

  “That couch is high enough for me to get on my knees and taste you until you scream my name over and over again.”

  “Oh god.”

  The promise in his voice was overwhelming. Miller had a way of taking me to new heights of sexual frustration through his words alone. My body responded in kind.

  “Can you picture it in your mind?”

  I flipped the button on my jeans and moved my hand beneath the waistband, between my legs.

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “Tess?”

  “Yes?” My voice was low, raspy.

  “Are you touching yourself?”

  I barely pushed out an answer, my brain focused solely on each stroke of my finger.

  “Fuck, that is so goddamn sexy. You better not come until I get there. I want to see,” he growled.

  “Hurry,” I panted.

  “On my way.”

  The line went dead and I slipped my finger deep inside of me but it wasn’t the same. I wanted—no, I needed Miller.

  My mind was a haze of lust and I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I heard the door in the kitchen slam.

  “Jesus Christ, I could come watching you.”

  I moved my eyes up to the doorway where Miller stood, his eyes firmly locked on the movement of my hand. He stalked forward, reaching me in mere seconds, his clothes dropping haphazardly on the floor around him. I could feel the coiling of my muscles and I knew it wouldn’t be long. Miller’s hand came down on mine stopping all movement.

  “No,” I whined. The orgasm had been so close. Just a few seconds more.

  “I told you not to come until I got here.”

  “But you’re here now.”

  “Yes.” He gripped the top of my pants and yanked them to the floor, my underwear following quickly behind. “And now it’s my turn.”

  He dropped to his knees. Lifting one of my legs, his tongue traced a path up my ankle to the top of my thigh, stopping right at the crease. My muscles quivered, anticipation tightening my thighs.

  “Miller, please.” I wanted his mouth in a whole different place than it was.

  Our gazes connected. He switched legs and without breaking eye contact, he followed the same path as before. This time I was ready and sunk my fingers into his dark locks. He stopped and chuckled.

  “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Miller, don’t tease.”

  “Or what?” A smirk lifted the corner of his lips.

  “Or I’ll go upstairs and let the shower head do the work.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.” He gripped the inside of my thighs and pushed them apart. My body practically melted when his tongue took the first swipe through me. The man was a master. Soon heat became the only thing I could feel, my hand clenching and unclenching against his scalp as he sucked hard on my clit, my back bowing off the couch.

  “Fuck, Miller.”

  He lifted his mouth from me. “Oh, sweet baby, you want to fuck?”

  “Oh god, please.”

  “Only after I’m done.”

  His tongue pressed into my wet heat over and over again. My legs began to shake but Miller held them down, his fingers biting into the sensitive flesh. When he delivered one final lick and a swirl around my clit, I lost it, screaming his name so loud my throat felt raw. Not a moment passed before he slid into me.

  “Let’s fuck.”

  Miller slammed home, pulling back only to thrust again. His hands held my thighs back as he pumped into me over and over, the force of his thrusts rocking the couch so hard it felt like it moved beneath me.

  “Damn, baby, I can still feel your tremors.”

  “Harder,” I begged.

  His thrusts became harder, faster, until the room was in a tail spin, both of us searching for the release that was within our grasp.

  “Sweet Jesus.”

  Miller lay his body gently on mine. Our bodies were slick, our desires sated. Exhaustion swept over my body like an iron blanket, pinning me to the couch. “I can’t move.”

  “Give me a minute.” He paused for breath between each word.

  Slowly his breathing returned to normal, and just as my eyelids became too heavy to keep them open, he scooped me into his arms. “Come on sexy, time to get you into to bed.”

  My body was too limp to argue and once my flushed skin slid in between the now familiar cool, crisp sheets, nothing could stop my eyes from staying closed.

  ***

  A loud beeping sound yanked me from sleep. My eyes snapped open and I sat up, pulling the sheet high over my naked breasts.

  What is that?

  I frantically searched the room for the source of the noise as feet thundered up the stairs. Was the house on fire?

  I lunged from the bed when the door burst open to reveal Miller. Except it was a Miller I’d never seen before. His hair was disheveled, like he’d been running his fingers through it, and at the corner of his eyes and running down the length of his cheek was a white streak. His bare chest was covered in brown spots.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  The beeping ceased. Thank God.

  “What the hell was that?” I sat back down on the bed, my heart thundering in my chest.

  “The smoke detector.”

  It wasn’t like any smoke detector I’d ever heard. It sounded more like a siren than a beep. “What set it off?” I figured if Miller wasn’t running for the exits it was safe to relax back into the bed.

  “I—I—I . . . uh . . . was trying to make you breakfast.” His hand went through his hair again, probably not for the first time that morning.

  “Breakfast?”

  “Yeah.” He waved his hands at me. “You stay there. I’ll be right back.”

  He spun on his heel and left in a whirlwind, closing the door behind him. I tightened the sheets around me, wondering about breakfast and also how, with everything I knew about Miller, how had I missed him knowing how to cook? Then again, smoke detectors didn’t go off for no reason.

  As hard as I tried to hold on to worrying about breakfast, I couldn’t stop thoughts of the day before from creeping up on me. Miller was downstairs making me breakfast in bed and I still hadn’t told him about what happened in the parking lot. That tingle up my spine was back, and even now the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. The footsteps. The shadows. Were they figments of my imagination?

  Between Ray’s nonsense at the bar and his continuous text messages, I had more than enough on my plate. Thankfully, Miller had dealt with Nathan Marcello because if I’d had to worry about him on top of everything else, I wasn’t sure I’d want to get out of bed every day.

  For a brief moment the night before, I’d thought about telling Miller about what happened in the parking lot, but I didn’t want to add another thing where he had to deal with something for me. Being the needy girlfriend never led to anything good. Not that I was sure whether the term “girlfriend” applied here. I knew we were seeing each other exclusively, but was it enough to be considered a more permanent fixture in his life?

  Things had been so good, I didn’t want to give him another reason to decide that all of this was too much. From what I knew this was his first real relationship and after our fight the other day over the money, I felt closer to Miller than anyone before. It made me realize how much Miller did care. The idea of throwing more shit in his lap didn’t sit well with me. Everyday I gave him another little piece of my heart. If he walked away because my problems were more than he needed to deal with on top of running a business, he’d shatter me.

  Before I could thin
k anymore about it, the door opened and Miller stepped into the room, carrying a tray. The glass of orange juice was visible from where I sat, but from the smell of things, it might have been the only thing on the tray I’d be able to sample. He walked up to the bed without a word and placed the tray on my lap.

  “Thank you,” I said, watching him intently.

  Quiet and unsure: definitely two new things for Miller.

  I braced myself and looked down at the tray. Holy hell. I tried to school my features, but it was hard when I couldn’t identify anything on it. The plate consisted of a blob of brown, with yellow peeking out here and there; mostly likely eggs. I could only assume the black, round things that resembled a discus from a track and field tournament were pancakes. On the small plate to the right were small black crumbles, the origins of which I couldn’t even hazard a guess at.

  With care I picked up my fork and pushed the food around the plate. The stress on top of all of it became too much and a snort burst forth. My hand came up to my mouth. Miller had tried to do something nice and here I was, being a bitch and laughing. He flopped down next to me.

  “Get it out of your system.” I looked up and noticed a twinkle in his eye.

  The sound came out in great guffaws, followed by his own laughter.

  “What is this supposed to be?” I asked between giggles.

  He chuckled some more then pointed to each of the items individually. “Pancake, eggs and bacon.”

  “Well, at least I got the pancake and eggs right.”

  He shook his head, a mirthful smile still on his lips. “I have no idea how Ashton does this shit everyday. That was a pain in the ass. Everything I put in the pan burned, no matter how long I left it in there.”

  “Have you ever cooked before?”

  He turned to his side, tucking his feet underneath him and tracing small circles on my arm as he spoke. “Not really. When I lived at home, Mom or Ashton did the cooking. After I moved out, I ordered out a lot. Sometimes my housekeeper cooks for me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So you decided to try something you’ve never done before and you’re surprised it didn’t come out perfect?”

  “Mom and Ashton make it look so easy.”

  “Well, it’s not that hard, but you do need to know what you’re doing.”

  I moved the tray off my lap and threw my legs over the side of the bed. One of Miller shirts hung over the back of the chair in the corner. I pick it up and pulled it over my head. Picking up the tray, I nodded toward the door.

  “Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

  The kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off. There was flour and chocolate everywhere.

  “What’s with the chocolate?”

  “They were chocolate chip pancakes.”

  “I see.” I glanced around the room, trying to figure out how one person could have made such a mess. “Let’s clean this up first, then we’ll get to work.”

  I started for the closet to get the broom, when Miller grabbed hold of my hand. “Leave it, Mary will get it later.”

  The room was a mess. I felt bad for the housekeeper, but I had a feeling Miller paid her very well. I went back to the counter with all of the ingredients. He had everything he needed already out. At least he got one part right.

  “Can you get me a bowl and a mixing spoon?”

  The amount of time Miller spent in his own kitchen, or lack thereof, became evident when he had to look through a few different cabinets to find what I’d asked for. It also said a lot about our relationship. Apparently, knowing his way around the kitchen didn’t matter as much as his business, yet he was willing to take time away from it to humor me.

  I threw the stuff in the bowl and began mixing. Miller watched with an intensity I couldn’t explain. I poured the first pancake into the pan and turned the burner down.

  “Shit.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. “What’s wrong.”

  He started laughing. “I never turned down the heat.”

  “No wonder everything burned to a crisp.”

  I flipped the pancake. A finger slid along my thigh where the hem of his shirt ended. “I love seeing you in my shirts.” He buried his face in the crook of my neck. I held back the shiver and pulled the pancake from the pan. We didn’t need more burned food in the house.

  I poured the next one in and swatted his leg with the spatula. “Behave, if you want breakfast.”

  He smirked and took a step back. I finished cooking the pancakes and turned to set the plate on the table. My mouth watered at the sight that greeted me.

  Miller stood stark naked in the middle of the kitchen, stroking his dick. Every muscle on display was perfection. Slowly, I set the plate down, my eyes locked on his hands movements. I wanted it. I wanted to taste him.

  “You want this, don’t you?”

  I dropped to my knees before him and placed my hand over his. Heat flashed in his eyes. With teasing slowness, I moved my head forward, my tongue licking along the head of his cock.

  “Oh fuck, Tess. I wanna feel your mouth.”

  I parted my lips and slipped them down as far as I could go. With his size, I knew I wouldn’t be able to take him all the way in. I used my hand to stroke up and down in rhythm with my mouth.

  “Your mouth is like fucking heaven,” he moaned.

  I took him a little deeper each time, pulling hard on the way back up. When he sank his hands into my hair and began to thrust his hips, I knew he was getting close. My nipples hardened at the thought. Every part of me screamed for him, but I wouldn’t stop.

  His thrusts became harder and I made sure to flick my tongue around the tip each time I came to the head, knowing he was almost there. With two firm strokes, I pulled him over the edge.

  “Tess,’ he cried out, spilling himself over and over again into my mouth.

  The moment his body stopped jerking he yanked me from the floor, his mouth devouring mine. Our tongues danced and swirled together. Longing came over me—a need so strong, I thought I might burst. Miller must have sensed it somehow. He slipped a hand between my legs, rubbing over my clit in slow circles, exactly the way I liked it. I bucked my hips into his hand and it wasn’t long before my muscles pulled tight and I dropped my head onto his chest, breathing heavily. His arm banded around my waist, holding me firmly in place.

  “I need to do that more often.”

  “Do what more often?”

  “Make you breakfast in bed. You get all hot and bothered for me when I do.”

  I jokingly shoved at his shoulder. “Not if you keep talking to me like that.”

  “You like my dirty talk.”

  He was right. I did. In fact, I more than liked it. I loved it.

  “Maybe I just want your sexy ass.”

  He took my wrists and placed my hands over his ass cheeks. “You can touch my ass anytime you like.”

  The simple lighthearted banter between us gave me one more reason to fall a little bit harder for Miller. I had a feeling not many people ever saw this side of him, and the fact that he was so willing to share this part of himself with me just cemented my decision to give this—us—a chance.

  CHAPTER 21

  Miller

  “When are you going to stop playing games at the bar and get to work here?” Dad snapped.

  “That’s bullshit. I’ve been working on the dealership paperwork, but trying to work over there is like trying to work at a concert. It’s like a fucking train station and everyone needs directions.”

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  “Jesus Christ, Dad, don’t kid yourself, you’ve been bitching about it for years. Now you’ve got everyone coming to me and they’re leaving you alone.” I rolled my eyes, knowing there was no way he could see me through the phone.

  “How else do you expect to learn?”

  “You might have learned from Pop how to deal with the money and clients whims, but you didn’t have to handle the actual running of the dealership on top of it.�
��

  “No. I was smart enough to hire someone to deal with that shit.”

  “Like it’s that’s easy,” I muttered to myself.

  “Jesus Christ, Miller.” The annoyance was clear in his tone. I was actually shocked he hadn’t slammed the phone down. “Stop worrying about sticking your dick into a different pussy every night, man up, and get shit done.”

  I’d been putting off telling him about Tess and I. More than once I’d started to tell him, only to chicken the fuck out. After his reaction to me winning her in the game, I had no idea what he would do if he found out I was actually dating her.

  On one hand, he could be happy that I’d turned the situation into something good. But my bigger fear was that he’d be pissed I’d kept seeing her at all after the incident. I would have like to thought it would be the former, but I wasn’t willing to chance it and be wrong. If I was going to convince Tess to let me take care of her someday, I needed the money and power to prove I could, and starting by pissing my dad off and having him pull the rug from under my feet would not be the best idea.

  I opened my mouth to tell him I wasn’t searching for bitches every night and the words died on my tongue. “I’ll work on that tomorrow.”

  “You’d be surprised at who you might find to help you run things. Look around. You might have someone already in the building you can promote.”

  Moments like this reminded me why I’d wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps in the first place. Someday I hoped to be as happy as my father was with my own son. Before Tess I could have never imagined myself thinking about kids of my own. But now it was more appealing than I thought it could be. Months after meeting her, I had a pretty good feeling about what happened between my parents when they met. More than once over the last week or so, I’d thought about telling her words I never thought I’d say to a woman.

  It would suck to be away from Tess, but my dad had a point, I needed to figure out a way to run all three businesses. If not, I’d have to give something up. I’d opened the Rock Bottom and started the sports betting to prove myself—to prove that someday I would be enough to take over the business. Then it was Orbit and the card games. Over time it became something that represented me.