Wrath (Sinful Secrets 4)

Holding Mills in bed and watching stupid TV with him. We lift weights together sometimes.

It’s all perfect.

It feels weird to write like this again. Like in a journal.

I just want to tell you that I’m happier than I deserve. And that I love him.

I hope it will last.

Three

Josh

“I hope that sheet can cover up both of us.” Ezra’s hand, clasped with mine, makes a grab at my costume as he steers us toward the Halloween party at Bren’s uncle’s cabin.

He smirks, waggling his eyebrows, and I can’t help laughing at his massive set of chompers. “What’s gonna happen under my sheet, bruh?” I ask. “I’m gonna choke on one of those fangs.”

“Maybe my mouth isn’t going for your mouth.” He tries to make a seductive face, but he can’t fully close his mouth. His fangs poke out over his lower lip, which just makes me laugh more.

“Miller.” He glares. “This is sexy. Do I look like a funny vampire?”

Now I’m falling on his right arm, laughing my ass off.

“You’re going as a hole,” he says, “so you have no right to laugh.”

I don’t know why, but I just can’t stop howling, which makes him laugh—soft snickers, as he feigns trying to shake me off his arm.

“Count Dicksuckula,” I call him, and he’s really laughing. “Shut up Miller, or I’ll yank that sheet off and show you some dick-suckula.”

“You think that’s a threat?” I’m wiping my eyes.

“Oh, Millsy.” His hand delves under the sheet of my black hole getup, which I’ll admit is very basic, but so what? I’m surprised when he veers off the road, although I guess I shouldn’t be.

I start cackling again as he fumbles underneath the big, black sheet I’m wearing and unbuttons my jeans. “You’re gonna lose a tooth, bro,” I chuckle.

“I can blow you with my fangs on. Wait and see.”

And then he does, and I can feel the long fangs he’s got glued to his canines tickling my cockhead. Makes me come in record time. He’s looking good in black jeans and a Dracula costume, so it’s a pleasure to suck him off—especially when his bravado bleeds away and he’s slumped over on me, clutching my hair, breathing, “Josh” like he’s desperate to come.

Yeah—sometimes he calls me Josh these days.

He comes hot and quick, his body shuddering deliciously under me. I Hoover it away, and he looks happily dazed as I lift my head. He comes in for a kiss, his eyelids heavy now, his mouth twitching in a small, sweet, vampy smile.

“Mills.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders, brings my head to his shoulder. “I don’t want to go,” he whispers.

“I know.” I kiss his throat. “Me either.” With a glance around, as if someone’s right beside us on this lonely road, I wrap myself around him, shifting so I’m sort of leaning on the console in between the two front seats—so I don’t crush him.

He notices and cups his hand around my ass. “You think you can hurt me, Millsy?” His fangs nip my earlobe. “Remember who’s bigger now.”

He starts sucking my earlobe, which gives me an instant boner. “Fuck,” I whimper.

“That’s what I’m gonna do with you,” he murmurs.

We’re kissing again, holding onto one another like we’re drowning. He feels so good under my palms—warm and bulky. He smells like the cologne he dabs on between his neck and shoulder after he showers. His hands on my neck and in my hair feel like everything I’ve ever wanted. Needed.

He’s a gentle, sweet, and thorough lover. Lots of warm, tight hugs, and lots of waking up wrapped up in his big, hard body. I’m rubbing at the little hairs on his nape, damn near on the edge again from our tongues stroking, when he pulls back to catch his breath and leans his forehead against mine. And says, “Miller?”

Something catches in his voice. I pull back just a little, checking out his face and finding he looks worried.

He shuts his eyes. Holds me closer, even as he’s breathing harder.

“Mills?” he says again, softly.

“Yeah, angel?”

He hugs me hard, whispers, “I love you.”

Everything slips out of focus for the rest of the night. It feels like a fever dream—the cool air and the costumes, eating caramel apples Jenna made and searching for Ezra around every corner at the cabin. Kissing in the woods…touching his warm, familiar pecs, his biceps, kissing his throat, whispering, “I love you, Ezra Masters. Just you and nobody else.”

We make it into the bedroom on the other side of the duck bathroom for a minute, and he hugs me up against him, kissing my hair.

“I need to leave. I want you. In bed,” he whispers into my ear.

“Let’s sit on the roof,” I murmur. We still do that sometimes. I like having his head in my lap, wrapping an arm around him.