by Amy Daws
She bites her lip as I increase the pressure and then croaks out, “You don’t think it’s boring?”
I shake my head and wait for her to open her eyes to look at me before replying, “No, I think it’s sexy. And shower sex with Kate is just what I want.”
She squeals in surprise when I haul her up against me and press her back against the cool tile wall. Her legs wrap around me as I position myself between her thighs.
I find where I need to be, and with one strong thrust, I push into her, hard and bare, my head pressing down on her shoulder as I stretch her.
She cries out, her voice echoing off the walls. “Oh God, Miles!”
My fingers bite into her ass as I pull back and thrust in again. “Kate.”
“Miles!” she screams again.
I grind up into her deeper and growl, “Kate,” one more time. It’s a claiming. An ownership of her name in my mouth. And it feels right. “Kate,” I state again huskily, licking a trail up her neck to her ear. “Kate, this isn’t casual.”
“No?” she cries out in question against another hard thrust.
“No,” I confirm with a growl. “This isn’t fiction, and I don’t want to be casual anymore. I want you to be mine.”
“Okay!” she cries, her hands tightening around my neck as she scrunches her eyes shut and tries to find release against the tightness between her legs.
I pull back to look at her. “Babe, open your eyes and look at me.”
She rolls her head against the wall and finally flutters her lids up, but she doesn’t look happy about it. “Yes, Miles,” she says, stroking her hands down my cheeks like she’s trying to appease me.
“I’m serious. I want to be your man. And I want you to be my woman.”
The smile on her face is stunning, and the giggle that rolls through her body does seriously awesome things to my dick. “You want to be my boyfriend?”
“Yes,” I reply with a frown at her choice of word. “But none of that book boyfriend bullshit. I’m as real as they come, and I’ll put all your fictional studs to shame, you got that?”
She bites her lip and runs her fingertips down my face. “You already have.”
“Good,” I reply, grinding my hips up into her further. “So we’re in agreement?”
“Totally,” she moans out loudly, making weird, uncontrollable noises in her throat.
But she grows more and more silent as I slam into her again and again until we’re both floating somewhere up in the hot shower steam clinging to the ceiling and at last falling down like rain.
Together, as one.
Clean and with damp hair, Miles turns me on my side in his big, manly bed that smells delicious, like him, and pulls my naked back to his naked front. He kisses the top of my shoulder, his mouth warm and lingering as he presses up against me, leaving absolutely no space between us.
“Are we going to bed already?” I ask, my voice soft in his cozy room as the faint glow of the setting sun outside grows darker and darker.
“This is just intermission,” he replies, his deep voice vibrating against my back. “We’re not even close to being done making up yet.”
I pull the blanket to my mouth to stifle my excited giggle. “Is that what happened in your shower? Makeup sex?”
He groans his confirmation and thrusts his hips into my rear end. “If you have to ask, then I didn’t do a good enough job.”
I turn so I’m lying on my back and can look up at him. “You did a superior job. But I guess I would have called that more of a welcome home session.”
His eyes are closed, but his brow furrows cutely. “Are you moving in?”
My cheeks burst into flames. “No…God, that’s not what I meant. I just…I meant that like, we’d been apart for a while and now we’ve been reunited and—”
“Babe,” he says, cutting me off mid-rant. “Shush. You’re getting tense, and after the best sex of my life, I really don’t want you to harsh my vibe.”
I giggle and pull the blanket over my mouth before mumbling. “Best sex of your life?”
He cracks one eye open and looks down at me, removing his hand from my belly and pulling the blanket down off my face. He tucks back a loose strand of hair and confirms his statement with a sexy, “Fuck, yes. Now talk to me about your townhouse. Why are you living with Lynsey?”
I groan loudly. “Now you’re harshing my vibe.”
He pins me with a look.
I exhale. “Dryston was threatening to sue you for breaking his nose. I offered him the house in exchange for him promising not to come after you.”
Miles’s entire body goes hard, his hand gripping my shoulder as he pins me with a serious look. “You gave up your house for me?”
I shrug. “It was my fault you were blindsided in the first place. I should have been honest with you from the start.”
“Oh, you mean like not lie to me that your ex-boyfriend still lived with you and wasn’t, in fact, gay but a super douche?”
My shoulders shake with a sad sort of laugh. I groan and try to hide my face, but Miles won’t let me. “I’m so sorry. That was completely idiotic of me. I just really, really liked you and was so freaked you were going to bolt that night. You were going on and on about being jealous.”
His lips form a thin line, a look of disappointment clouding his features. “I shouldn’t have scared you with all that. I put way too much pressure on you with talk of my past. I’m a protective guy, Kate, but I hope you know I trust you.”
I give him a small smile and take a deep breath in. “Good, because I have another confession.”
“Christ, what?” Miles asks, running a hand through his hair.
“Dean told me he liked me as more than a friend.”
“What?” Miles snaps, popping up on his elbow so he can see me more fully. “Are you fucking serious? Goddamn it, I knew it!”
I sit up, clutching the sheet to my breasts with one hand and reaching out to run my hand down his tricep. “We talked it out, and he knows I don’t feel the same. We’re just friends. He knows that now.”
“God, any other guys lining up I need to be aware of? I might need to start wearing boxing gloves!” Miles deadpans.
“No, only Dean,” I reply with an awkward shrug. “And you’re not going to punch him because he’s still my friend. And he only told me because he had no idea that I was completely in love with you.”
Miles’s bright blue eyes flash up to connect with mine. His body even more tense than it was before. “What did you just say?”
My heart is in my throat, but I know there’s no going back now. “I’m in love with you, Miles. Like, completely.”
His mouth falls open as he expends all the air in his lungs. “Now I need to fuck you again,” he murmurs and moves over on top of me, between my legs, his hardened erection nudging my entrance as he rests his elbows on either side of me and looks straight into my eyes. “How do you keep getting better and better?”
I purse my lips together and touch his face with my hands. “I’m being myself, finally.”
The edge of his mouth tips up in a small smile, then falls when he replies simply, “I love you too, Kate.”
And without a moment’s hesitation, I yank his face down to mine, and I kiss him. I kiss him as if my happiness depends on it. Because at this point, it completely does. Miles Hudson is the sun and the air and the moon and the stars. He’s fucking wonderful, and he loves me.
How much more book worthy can it get than that?
3 Months Later
I hear the familiar purr of the ‘65 Ford driving into the garage under my feet just as I pull the homemade pizza that I spent forever making out of the oven. I know it’s not necessarily a romantic meal, but it’s sort of what started our relationship. I gave him leftover pizza in exchange for his silence about me sneaking into Tire Depot to write. He ended up being the man of my dreams, and the type of guy I have to celebrate three-month anniversaries with.
I can’t help my
self.
I even have licorice ropes for dessert because, like any good novel, full circle moments always make a scene extra special. And since I’ve just completed my mechanic romantic comedy, I’m ready to celebrate The End with the man I love.
But for fun, we’re calling tonight “date research,” and Miles obliged almost instantly.
The past few months have been a blur of a wonderfully uncomplicated relationship that consists of morning coffees on his porch, quiet dinners out, and sex pretty much anywhere we can get it. Oh, and words. So many words! I’m constantly taking notes with Miles wrapped around me at night. He’s not even surprised anymore when he wakes up to his alarm clock to find me in nothing but his clothes, clacking away on my laptop and watching the sunrise on his front porch.
Miles Hudson’s house makes Tire Depot look like a little bitch.
Just kidding! I take it back. I still come creeping in there for work at least three days a week. Those complimentary beverages and cookies won’t consume themselves! And Sam’s uncle finally introduced himself to me and told me I could come in as often as I like.
Life is good. And being committed to Miles is great. But tonight will be fun to think back and remember how oddly our relationship started out.
I’m shocked to hear the doorbell on Miles’s front door chime. I guess he’s taking this “research” seriously. With a smile, I hurry over in my platform sandal wedges to open the door and nearly fall over dead when I see my man standing in front of me wearing a frickin’ button-down with a rose in his hand.
A single, red rose.
But I’m looking beyond that now because he clearly did a lot more than just wash up at the shop. His dark hair looks like it has some gel in it, and his dark jeans are worn in all the right place. The places that a man’s jeans wear when he works hard in them. And good God, he even has dress shoes on.
He looks good enough to eat.
“Jesus fuck,” Miles drawls, taking in my short red dress. It was an impulse purchase and way too slutty to wear out in public. But I’m committed to my research this evening.
Miles looks like he more than appreciates it as he steps inside and drops the rose on the side table. In one long stride, he kicks the door shut with his heel and cups my face in his hands.
Hunched over me, he husks against my lips, “First thing I have to say about what I’m thinking right now for your research is that when a girl who you’ve been fucking for months still makes your dick hard just by wearing a cute little dress, it makes it really damn hard for a decent guy to be a gentleman.”
With a soft yank of my hair, he tips my head back and crushes his mouth to mine. My hands fist into his shirt by his sides as I open my lips to him and welcome his hot, wet tongue inside me. He caresses his tongue against mine, and I feel a pooling in my belly that is so intense, I moan into his mouth.
He growls in response, sounding feral and animalistic as he walks us backward toward the nearby wall. He plasters me up against it, one hand letting go of my cheek as he reaches down to pull my leg up onto his hip, my dress riding up all the way to my waist. Lowering his body, he presses his front to my center, and I cry out when he rubs himself against me, showing me how hard he is already.
Seriously! How did he get that hard this fast?
“Holy shit!” I exclaim when he breaks our lips to run his whiskered jaw down my neck, his tongue trailing a delightful path of goose bumps the entire way. He gets low to my breasts and plunges inside my cleavage to suck hard.
“Oh!” I yelp and shove him softly.
He pulls back with a proud smile. “That’s going to leave a mark.”
“You jerk,” I husk, pushing him away. My man has an affection for leaving marks on me, and even though I pretend to hate it, I actually frickin’ love it.
His chest vibrates with laughter as he holds me to him. “I can’t help it. I like marking you.”
I roll my eyes. “What was it you said when you came in? Decent guys are gentlemen or something.”
He lifts his brows. “Who said I was decent?”
I glance down at my cleavage and pull my dress back to see the red mark already showing. “Clearly not you.”
The hungry look in his eyes is not at all apologetic, and I can’t help but love him a little more for it. On wobbly legs, I extract myself from his embrace and grab my flower from the table he unceremoniously tossed it to.
“You brought me a flower.” I smile and press it to my nose while walking back toward the kitchen.
His grin is sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “I thought the flower was very date-like. Book boyfriend worthy, as you say.” He shrugs his shoulders like it’s no big deal.
I shake my head. “Quit acting like you’re too cool for this stuff now. You love book research.”
He chuckles softly and props himself on the counter by the stove while I search for a pizza cutter. “Actually, I just love watching you work.”
“Yeah?” I reply, abandoning my task to grab a couple of beers out of the fridge. I hand one to him that he cracks open, handing it back to me so I give him the other.
He clinks bottles with me, takes a drink and points to his front door. “And the fact you can sit out on my porch and create your stories is enough to make my dick hard.”
“Brake fluid makes your dick hard,” I reply with a dramatic eye roll.
He pins me with a look of warning and sets his beer down, reaching out and yanking me into him. He twirls us so his arms cage me against the counter and he’s pressed up against me in that really delicious, big way he has about him.
He looks into my eyes with such sincerity when he says, “I’m not joking. I like you writing here, Kate.”
“Well, the vibe here is good. Even better than Tire Depot.”
He gasps at that and smiles. “What if I want you to spend your days and nights here?”
“Well, you pretty much have all my nights on lockdown already,” I state with a laugh. Lynsey’s house is not conducive to noisy sex, so we inevitably end up at Miles’s place more often than not.
“I mean permanently.” His smile falls, his eyes grow serious.
I frown up at him. “Like move in with you?”
“Unless you prefer sleeping next door to your ex-boyfriend?”
“Wait, is that the only reason you’re asking me to move in with you? Because you’re trying to keep me far away from my ex?”
“Nah,” he replies casually, splaying his hands over my hips and pulling me to him. “I’m asking you to move in because I want you in my bed every night, Kate. Not just when it works for you. I want to carpool together to Tire Depot where you can write all day, and I can come in and sneak a kiss whenever I want. And when I get off work, you’ll climb on the back of my bike and squeeze yourself around me as we ride home together. Honestly, I can’t think of a better way to spend some of my time with you.”
“How would you spend your other time?”
“Buried inside your sweet little pussy.”
My breath inhales sharply at his dirty promise. It sounds perfect. It sounds like he just described heaven, and I’m standing at the pearly gates waiting for entry.
But I try to play it cool when I reply, “I think I could like the idea of moving in with you.” I bite my lower lip and run my hands up his chest, stroking his full pecs appreciatively. “You are certainly my best writing inspiration to date.”
“You’d better not be using me for your fictional stories, babe,” he drawls, dropping a tender kiss on my lips. One that’s full of warmth and respect and adoration. It’s not a hickey, a claiming kiss. It’s not a sex-crazed, lustful kiss. It’s got nothing to do with book research.
It’s one that I can see him giving me every day for the rest of our lives.
“Never, Miles,” I murmur against his lips and run my hands through his hair. “Although living with you will definitely help me finish my book quicker than anticipated.”
He pulls back with a smile and
asks, “So are you ever going to tell me what this book is about?”
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s our love story. No big deal.”
He laughs against my body. “Interesting, how does it end?”
I smile brightly up at him. “Happily, of course.”
THE END
Want more laughs? Check out Amy's fun sports romance comedies! Click here to buy or keep going to read a sample.
The London Lovers Series:
Becoming Us: Finley’s Story Part 1 (prequel)
A Broken Us: Finley’s Story Part 2 (standalone)
London Bound: Leslie’s Story (standalone)
Not The One: Reyna’s Story (standalone)
That One Moment: Hayden & Vi’s Story (standalone)
One Wild Night: Julie’s Story…coming soon
The Harris Brothers Series:
A spin-off sports romance series featuring the British, football-playing Harris Brothers!
Challenge: Camden’s Story (standalone)
Endurance: Tanner’s Story (standalone)
Keeper: Booker’s Story (standalone)
Surrender & Dominate: The Gareth Harris Duet…Coming Soon
Wait With Me (standalone)
Pointe of Breaking: A College Dance Standalone by Amy Daws & Sarah J. Pepper
Chasing Hope: A Mother’s True Story of Loss, Heartbreak,
and the Miracle of Hope
For all retailer purchase links, visit:
www.amydawsauthor.com
I feel like the acknowledgements for this book are uniquely important because so many people know that this story was very loosely based on my real life experiences and I want to make some things clear while I have you here!
First of all, yes, I snuck into a tire shop waiting room. Yes, I took countless people’s cars in, and yes, my author friend really did have a pizza delivered there, and I even got a fake invoice in the mail from my friends. It was all mortifying.