The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys 1) - Page 94

“One more, kind sir,” Holden said, tiredly, his voice tinged with sadness that made me want to put my arms around him too. “One more to close out the night.”

Miller nodded, set his guitar on his lap and gave me a look I couldn’t decipher. Then he began to hum the soft strains of Billie Eilish’s “when the party’s over.” He sang the first few lyrics acapella, only bringing in his guitar at the first chorus.

The four of us listened, rapt, as Miller’s masculine voice turned the soft song into something with a little more edge. More masculine in its painful longing.

“I'll only hurt you if you let me,” he sang from beside me, the words pouring in my ear. My heart. “Call me friend but keep me closer…”

I closed my eyes, sank deeper into my blanket, into my mistakes, as Miller’s voice lulled me to sleep.

I woke, blinking, with the sun’s first rays peeking over the horizon. The vestiges of sleep cleared from my eyes enough to see blue plaid, a white T-shirt, smooth skin that grew shadowed with stubble at the jaw…

A little gasp escaped me. I was wrapped completely in Miller, both of us under a blanket. He held me tight to him, my head was perfectly tucked under his chin. Our jean-clad legs entwined like vines, and his chest rose and fell against mine.

Moving only my eyes, I peeked around. The bonfire smoldered. The beach was empty. We were alone.

I should’ve sat up. I should’ve disentangled myself, grabbed my stuff and left. But my body felt heavy and satisfied. Perfectly content. The restless nights of the last few months were washed away, and I couldn’t move and didn’t want to.

Just a little longer…

I let my eyes drift closed and dozed.

When I became conscious again, it was in a murky, half-sleep, half-dreamy state. Miller’s arms around me tightened, and his nose was in my hair, nuzzling. His lips touched my forehead. A feather light kiss. I tilted my chin up slightly and my mouth brushed his neck. Half awake, unthinking, I put a little kiss there, open-mouthed, tasting the salt of his skin with a flick of my tongue.

He shifted against me again, and I felt the heavy erection pressing against my center. His hands roamed my back, slipped into my hair, pulling just hard enough. My mouth opened wider, and I sucked at his neck lightly, biting, and then running my tongue over his skin.

Miller’s hand made a fist in my hair, pulling my head back. Now I trailed kisses up his jaw, feeling the stubble under my soft lips, scraping myself against it, until I found his mouth. With a growl, Miller rolled me to my back and sank his weight against me, his groin digging between my legs, seeking entry through our jeans, just as his mouth crashed to mine, seeking entry there too.

I gave it willingly. Eagerly. Taking his kiss with long sweeps of my tongue that slid against his. God, Miller’s kiss… Just like him. Hard, intense, but beautifully considerate too. Biting teeth and soft lips. Rough stubble around a soft mouth. Muttered curses uttered on soft breath.

He propped himself on one forearm, that hand gripping my hair, holding me in his kiss with delicious possession. His other moved down my body, skirting around my breast, knowing I’d never been touched like this before.

I wanted him to touch me. I’d never wanted anything more.

I took his hand and guided it under my hoodie, under my T-shirt, so he could fill his hand with my breast. He caressed and explored, hefted the weight of it. My soft moans and gasps spurred him on, and he w

ent under my bra where he found the nipple, hard and aching. He pinched and tweaked while I moaned into his mouth, my hands sliding down over his broad back and then up again into his thick hair.

His hips crashed and ground into mine. I lifted mine to receive him and wrapped my legs around his waist. There was so much clothing between us; the denim rubbing a sweet ache in me as his hard erection sought my soft heat.

“Miller…”

The name fell out of my lips between kisses. Escaped. Because in that moment, he was my entire world. All I knew was him…and then he was gone.

Cold air swooped in as Miller tore himself off of me with a ragged cry and a vile curse. I felt as if I’d been violently woken from the sweetest dream. I sat up slowly, Miller beside me. He grabbed a handful of sand and hurled it at the smoldering embers, then shot to his feet.

“Fuck,” he said, scrubbing both hands through is hair. “Fuck!”

I smoothed my rumpled clothing and pulled the blanket tight around me. Regret, remorse, guilt… They all flooded in, dousing the heat we’d built. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, the words torn away by the wind.

“I’m not this guy,” he shouted, his beautiful voice now raised in anger. “I never wanted to be this guy. A guy who fucking cheats.”

“Miller, I’m sorry,” I said, tears building but I willed them back. “But sit and talk to me. Please. We need to talk. Really talk.”

He whirled on me, eyes blazing with pain. “I’m tired of talking. We’ve been talking for four years. Which is why the fucking second you’re near me, I have to touch you and kiss you…” He drew his hand down over his mouth as if wiping us away. “But shit, now? I’m with someone else.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not all on you,” he said. “That’s just it. I did this too. I let this happen, and now…”

Tags: Emma Scott Lost Boys Romance
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