I sighed. No, this was it. And there was no sense in getting all freaked out and scared about it. If and when I met someone I could truly fall in love with, I had to believe that would overpower my chemistry with Miles.
But it would have to be one hell of a love.
We cleaned up, got dressed, and headed to Corktown for drinks and dinner, Miles giving me a little tour of the historic neighborhood first. I had my camera with me and took lots of pictures in the beautiful fading light—century-old row houses, colorful Victorians, the hulking, ghostly abandoned train station.
“Hey, you check that place out for your ghost sex article? Definitely looks haunted.”
Miles shook his head, his eyes going wide. “There might be some souls lurking about in there, but none of them are souls I’d like to fuck.”
“There’s a soul you don’t want to fuck?” I teased, putting my camera in my purse.
He grabbed me from behind, pinning my arms to my side. “Yes, smartass. There are plenty. In fact, I only want one soul these days, and that’s yours. So behave.”
I giggled. “I’ll try. You don’t make it easy, though.”
The Burger Bar was nice and cool inside, and pretty crowded, but we found two seats together at the bar. We ordered beers and burgers, and when I praised the menu, with its locally-sourced ingredients, Miles asked me if I thought I’d stick with the coffee shop or wanted to try something else one day.
“Oh, I think I’d like to try something else someday. Coffee Darling is a great little place, but I wouldn’t mind something bigger at some point. Maybe a restaurant at one of the local wineries or farms. I think that would be fun.”
“But definitely up there, huh?”
I sipped my beer, thinking about it. “Yeah,” I answered finally. “I do like traveling, but that part of Michigan just feels like home to me. I love the seasons up there, I love being close to my family. Both my sisters are up there, and now with Skylar getting married, I wouldn’t be surprised if she and Sebastian have kids soon.”
“When’s the wedding again?” Miles took a long drink from his glass.
“Three months. End of September.” I was telling him more about their plans when a dark-haired guy approached us from behind the bar. He was so handsome, I forgot what I was saying and left off in the middle of a sentence. He had tattoos too, down both arms, and the short sleeves of his fitted black Burger Bar t-shirt hugged the muscular curves of his arms. Immediately I thought of Jillian, since he looked like her type—dark hair, dark eyes—and he was a little older, maybe in his mid-thirties, but then I noticed he wore a wedding band.
Rats. Was she right? Were all the good ones taken? Maybe she and I were both destined to be single forever. We’d live in my house where we’d get old and crabby together, no one to bitch at but each other and maybe a few sad cats. God, that was depressing.
The guy grinned at us and held his hand out to Miles. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Just wanted to say hi and see if you needed anything.”
Miles shook his hand. “Nat, this is Nick Lupo, the owner of this place and my apartment. Nick, this is my friend Natalie from up North.”
“The swimmer with the coffee shop?” Nick held his hand out to me. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Warmth rushed my face as I put my hand in his. “Wow. I’m flattered.” I glanced at Miles, who looked pleased with himself. “You have a great apartment and a great restaurant. I love the menu.”
Nick filled up our glasses and stayed a few minutes to chat about some local farms he worked with and the farm-to-table concept he embraced—good quality ingredients, organic whenever possible, from responsible farmers he knew personally that were worth the higher price he paid for them.
“Natalie was saying earlier how she’d like to run a restaurant someday,” Miles said.
Nick looked at me. “Oh yeah? I’ve been thinking about opening something up in that area.”
“You should definitely partner up.” Miles picked up his beer. “Natalie is wickedly talented and totally dedicated to what she does. Although I do think she works too hard.”
I slapped his leg. “Stop it. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Honestly, I’d love to talk about working together on something in that area,” Nick said, bracing his hands on the bar. “My wife’s best friend and her husband have a winery up there, so we’ve visited a lot.”
“Which winery?” I asked.
“Abelard Vineyards,” he said.
I slapped a hand on my chest. “My sister works there! Is your wife’s friend Mia Fournier?”
He nodded and smiled. “Yeah. Small world.”
“It’s a fantastic spot. So beautiful—in fact, my sister is getting married there this fall.”
“I’ll have to check it out,” Miles said. “In fact, I told Skylar yesterday I’d come to her wedding.” Then he shuddered. “Although those things give me hives.”
Nick rolled his eyes and looked at me. “Good luck with him, Natalie.” He pulled a card from his back pocket and slid it across the bar from me. “When you’re ready, give me a call and we can talk. That way I can tell my wife I’m actually doing something about it. She’ll be delighted with me.”
“Maybe she’ll even do something nice for you,” Miles said. “You should have her read my blog post today. It’s about blowjobs.”
“Miles!” I hit him on the shoulder, mortified he’d said that out loud.
Nick laughed. “She doesn’t need any help there. Besides, what I want takes the real deal.”
Miles’s jaw dropped. “You want another kid? Don’t you have, like, two of those things already?”
“Three.” Nick’s dark eyes lit up, which I thought was really sweet, especially compared to the way Miles reacted to the subject of kids. “All boys. I want to try for a girl, but Coco gives me the evil eye every time I mention it.”
“That’s because children interfere with all the best things in life—sex, sleep, and drinking.”
His words stung, which was so dumb. It’s not like I hadn’t known his views on marriage and family before. I’d just teased him about it last week!
But you didn’t have these feelings for him last week.
I forced the realization from my head. It wouldn’t do me any good to dwell on my growing feelings for him. They couldn’t go anywhere.
Nick shrugged. “Can’t argue there. But they’re worth it.” Our food arrived, and he stepped back to give the server room to set down the plates. “Enjoy, you guys. Nice meeting you, Natalie. Looking forward to hearing from you. See you, Miles.”
“Nice meeting you too.” I smiled at him and dropped my eyes to my plate.
“Think you’ll call him?” Miles asked, dumping a pool of ketchup onto his plate.
“Maybe.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“Because I know you, Nixon. What is it?”
I glanced at him, and he was so cute, and so concerned, and we were such old friends that I almost figured, fuck it—I’ll tell him the truth.
Almost.
I faked a smile. “Nothing, really. I’m just thinking about my shop. Thinking about what I’d do with it if I decided to do something different.”
That seemed to satisfy Miles, and we spent the rest of dinner chatting about the possibilities. When we were done, Miles wanted to take me to a place called The Sugar House for drinks, which was just across the street and down a few blocks. We said goodbye to Nick and left the restaurant, and Miles grabbed my hand as we hurried across busy Michigan Avenue. He didn’t let go when we got to the other side, my heart beat quicker as we strolled hand in hand in the dark. God, I wish things were different. This feels so good with him, so easy.
Inside the bar, a narrow old storefront with high ceilings, brick walls, and, oddly enough, big game heads mounted opposite the long wooden bar. Huge, ornate, floor-to-ceiling drapes on the window and a chandelier in a cozy front alcove gave the place a
little Victorian hipster vibe, as did the three tattooed bartenders, who wore ties and vests, their shirtsleeves rolled up and held with garters. They all had thick facial hair, one wore a top hat, and they took their cocktail-making very, very seriously.
Miles and I sat at the bar and ordered drinks, and mine was so delicious I ordered another one right away. Maybe it wasn’t wise to consume so much so quickly, especially since I’d already had two beers at dinner, but the more I drank, the hotter I was for Miles, and that was a much safer feeling than brooding about what could never be. I finished the second drink even faster than the first, and Miles asked if I wanted another.
“Oh, God. I really shouldn’t.” I giggled. “I’m already goofy. I’ll get drunk.”
“Good! You should get drunk. You should get drunk and let me do ridiculous things to your body.”
I leaned toward him, put my hands on top of his thighs. “I don’t need to be drunk for that, silly. You can do anything you like to my body.”
“Uh, in that case. Let me get the check and get you home.” He leaned in too, and spoke low in my ear. “Did you wear that short little skirt just to torture me?”
“Uh huh.”
“You wicked little slut,” he whispered, making all my nerve endings tingle. “I’m going to make you pay for that.”
While I used the bathroom, Miles paid the bill, and by the time I came out, he was waiting for me at the door. Grabbing me by the hand, he ran through the bar, out the door, and down the street toward the parking lot so fast I could hardly keep up.
When we reached the Jeep, he backed me up against the passenger door and kissed me hard, one hand fisted in the back of my hair, his erection pressing against my abdomen.
“Feel that? I’ve been hard for you all night, ever since I saw your legs in that skirt.” He tightened his hand in my hair, and I gasped at the needles of pain prickling across my scalp. “I want to do such bad things to you. Such bad things.”
My heart threatened to pound right out of my chest as he crushed his mouth to mine once more.
“Get in.” He unlocked the door and practically threw me into the passenger seat before storming around to the driver’s side.
On the ride home, I unzipped his jeans and took his cock in my hand, and he slid his hand up my thigh and inside my panties.
“Already wet for me. I like that.” His fingers easily slid inside me, and I grabbed his wrist with my free hand, holding him against me as I swiveled my hips.
“I want you so badly,” I whispered. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”
“Trust me. I know the feeling.” He pulled his fingers from me and touched them to his tongue. “Fuck. Your taste. I can’t get enough.”
He drove home so fast I was amazed he didn’t get a ticket, and we ran so hard through the parking garage to the elevators I was gasping for air by the time the doors opened. As soon as they closed and we were alone, Miles and I went at each other, lips sealed, hands groping, feet stumbling. At the twenty-third floor, we didn’t even stop kissing when the doors opened, and barely made it into the hallway before they closed.
We moved awkwardly down the hall with our tongues and legs tangled, hands sneaking beneath clothing, until he picked me up and I wrapped my legs around him. I have no idea how he knew where his apartment door was, but somehow he unlocked it and got us in without ever taking his mouth off mine.
Inside, he kicked the door shut and went right for the stairs without even turning on the lights. I thought he’d go right for the bed and throw me down, so I was surprised when he went into his closet.
“What’s this?” I laughed against his lips. “Wardrobe change?”
“Wardrobe removal.” He set me down and whipped my shirt off, breaking the kiss only to allow it to go over my head. His shirt was next, then I kicked off my flats as he removed my bra and shoes and skirt and panties. But when I reached for his zipper, he stopped me. “Wait.”
It was dark in the closet but I heard hangers being shoved aside on a bar and then a drawer open and close.
Next thing I knew, he had something over my eyes and he was tying it at the back of my head. A scarf? A tie? “What is this?”
“Shhh. This is your punishment for teasing me tonight with that little skirt.” Once the blindfold was secure, he took both my wrists, brought them over my head and wound something around them. “You’re not allowed to use your hands.”
I gasped. “I can’t see you or touch you?”
“Not if you want to come tonight.”
“Oh, God.” My heart pounded as he moved me beneath the bar where he’d cleared space, and secured my wrists to it.
“Perfect.” Miles pulled a final knot tight. “I’ll be right back.”
“What? You’re leaving me like this?”
He laughed and kissed the top of each breast. “Yes. You stay here and think about what you did.” A final pinch on the ass and he walked out, leaving me tied up, blindfolded, turned on, and alone. In his closet.
Now what?
Seventeen
Miles
Holy fuck.
Holy. Fuck.
Natalie Nixon, good girl next door, was naked, blindfolded, and tied up in my closest.
Just seeing her standing there, arms over her head, back arched, her fair skin radiant in the dark, that head full of tousled blonde hair that always looked like she’d just been fucked…I nearly shot my load right then. But I didn’t want to rush—I wanted to tease her, savor her, linger over every inch of her perfect body. What if I never had this opportunity again?
I walked out of the closet and through my room in case she could hear my steps, but then I fucking bolted down to the kitchen, where I pulled a bottle of my favorite Kentucky bourbon and a glass from the cabinet. If I’d had whipped cream or chocolate syrup or anything else to eat off her body, I’d have brought that too, but I was me, so I had nothing but Cap’N Crunch and Doritos, which I didn’t think would be too sexy. But the bourbon would be delicious licked off Natalie’s vanilla skin…fucking hell, I was so excited my legs were shaking as I ran back to the stairs and darted up three at a time. I slowed down when I got near the closet—just to torture her a little.
“You’re back,” she said.
“Yes.” I moved past her into the bathroom and turned on the light, so I could see her a little. Her rosy pink nipples were puckered, and her chest rose and fell with labored breaths. Oh, fuck, I want her.
“Well, now that you have me like this, what are you going to do?” A hint of nerves edged beneath her tone, and it made me fucking crazy. My cock was like steel in my pants.
“I’m going to have a drink.” I pulled the cork from the bottle of bourbon, and she turned her head in the direction of the pop. I poured a couple fingers and set the bottle down.
“A drink?”
“Yeah. Want a sip?”
She smiled hesitantly. “Sure.”
I lifted the glass to her lips, then kissed her, stroking her lips and tongue with mine, tasting the honey-sweet bourbon on them. Then I poured a little just beneath her collarbone and watched it run down her breast. Her mouth fell open and she gasped while I licked the rivulet just as it reached her nipple, swirling my tongue around the stiffened peak, washing it in bourbon. I did the same on the other breast, and she moaned lightly when I sucked her nipple into my mouth, rubbing the hard tip with my tongue.
Next, I poured some down the center of her chest, watching it flow between her breasts and down her belly. I dropped to one knee and flattened my tongue just above her clit, and licked all the way up her body long and slow, up the underside of each breast, up her throat, tracing the shell of her ear. Her entire body shivered. “Oh my God, I want you,” she whispered. “You’ve got me desperate for you.”
I was desperate for her too, but I wasn’t finished yet.
“Turn around,” I told her.
She turned, presenting me with the most beautiful series of curves any man has ever seen. Fr
om the rounded lines of her arms and shoulders to the arc of her back to the flare of her hips, she was perfection. I poured the rest of the bourbon at the base of her neck and watched it cascade down her back and disappear in the crack of her ass. Getting to my knees, I set the glass aside. “Now spread your legs like a good little slut.”
She did as I requested, arching her back, and I licked and sucked the bourbon from her pussy to her ass, making her quiver and moan. I fucked her with my tongue, reaching around to rub her clit with one hand while the other held her trembling legs apart. “God, you taste so fucking good. I could do this all night.”
“I love it,” she breathed. “I love your mouth on me.” She rocked her hips against my hands and tongue, her sighs coming closer and closer together, her voice rising, until finally she cried out in rapture, her body going slack.
“Miles,” she said weakly. “I might pull this bar right out of the wall. I can’t stand up.”
I dragged my tongue up her ass as I stood. “Need something to sit on?” I asked, unzipping my jeans and shoving them down. My cock burst out of my pants like a jack-in-the box.
“Yes. Please,” she panted. “Do it.”
She was soaking wet from my mouth as well as her own desire, so my cock slid easily inside her. Both of us groaned as I grabbed her hips and buried myself deep. Oh, fuck, that body. The muscles in her back. That ass. I wanted it for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day of my life. Digging my fingers into her flesh, I watched myself move in and out of her, slowly but forcefully. Each thrust was punctuated by a gasp from her as I tested the limits of how far I could go.
I’d planned on teasing her a little more, playing a game, making her wait. But with my cock so hard and her pussy so wet and her ass so pretty, I lost all control. My body moved purely on instinct. “Christ,” I snarled, fucking her hard and deep, so hard she rose up on her toes with every thrust. “I want to come on your ass.” I wanted to come inside her too, but that ass. And she was so vulnerable and helpless, bound and blindfolded like she was—even if she said no, I could still do it. She couldn’t stop me. Was I a total fucking asshole because that turned me on?
Happy Crazy Love Boxed Set Page 39