The Takeover (The Miles High Club 2)

“You love me?” I whisper.

“So much.” He smiles against my lips.

My heart free-falls from my chest. God . . . I love this man.

He unclips my garter belt and then slides my panties down, and I hover somewhere in heaven as I watch him . . . and then he does the unthinkable.

He drops to his knees in front of me and spreads my legs.

My breath catches. What’s he doing?

With his dark eyes locked to mine, he pulls me apart and licks me with his long thick tongue.

My body convulses. His eyes close in pleasure as he cleans me up.

My orgasm on his tongue.

I run my fingers through his hair as I watch him. He’s in a black dinner suit on his knees before me—a new arousal takes me over.

Deep and dangerously dark.

Holy hell . . . Tristan fucking Miles.

Chapter 20

The limo pulls into the large circular driveway, and I feel the nerves in my stomach dance. As if reading my mind, Tristan leans in and kisses my temple. “You look beautiful, Anderson.”

I blow out a deep breath. This meet-the-family thing is nerve-racking. The driver opens the door, and Tristan gets out and takes my hand to help me. The driveway and foyer are a hive of activity as the cars roll in one after the other. Beautiful people in black-tie attire are everywhere, and I am so glad that I let Marley talk me into getting that stylist.

My dress is black and fitted, and it has a big thick band that wraps around the top of it from the waist up, creating a strapless look. It’s understated and sexy. Tristan loves it and told me I’m to wear it every day. He even made our driver take photos of us before we climbed into the limo.

He leads me up the stairs and into the ballroom. People are doing double takes as they see us together. “Hi. Hello. Hello, Roger,” Tristan greets people as we walk through to the seating chart.

I smirk over at him.

“What?” he asks.

“You think you’re a rock star or something.”

“I am a fucking rock star, Anderson. When will you get with the program and realize it?” He gives me a sexy wink, and I smile broadly, happy to admit that I’m officially a groupie. He reads the board and looks for where we’re sitting. “Over here.”

My stomach flutters as I look to where he gestured and see his entire family sitting at the table.

Fuck . . . the blood drains from my face.

Meeting the family is always intimidating.

Meeting the Miles family is next-level terrifying. His father is one of the most respected men in New York, and his older brother, Jameson, is known for being one of the biggest assholes in the world. I catch a glimpse of Christopher and Elliot, and I feel slightly better—they’re really nice and not at all what I imagined. I’m glad that I at least know them. “Hello.” Tristan smiles broadly as we approach the table. “This is Claire Anderson.” He presents me like a prized pig.

“Hello.” I smile awkwardly.

“This is my father, George. My mother, Elizabeth. This is Jameson and Emily, and you know Elliot and Christopher.”

They all stand. George shakes my hand. “Hello, Claire, lovely to meet you.”

His mother kisses my cheek. “Hello, dear, so glad you could join us.”

I smile awkwardly, and Emily grabs me into an embrace and chuckles. “I am absolutely thrilled to meet you,” she gasps.