Two Weeks and a Day (Finn's Pub Romance 2)

“Don’t stop,” he moans. “Brendan, I’m almost there.”

“Get there, baby. Let me feel you come on my cock.”

Miller’s body arches in my grip and he cries out my name as he comes in my hand. My fingers are slippery with it. Covered in the proof of his release.

So good. God, it’s so good it might really kill me. “Fuck.”

My body curls around his, my thrusts brutal and bruising as I desperately reach for my climax. Can’t hold back. I’ll never get deep enough.

“Yes!”

I shudder, the force of the release crashing through me. Wave after wave of pleasure and relief as I pump inside his ass again and again. I can’t stop stroking him. Can’t stop fucking him. His body bucks against me with each pulse through my cock until it finally recedes, leaving me shaken.

I’m not sure how long I stay like that, deep inside and clutching him like a lifeline until I feel recovered enough to let go.

When I pull out gently, he shivers in reaction. I run my hand over his back and squeeze his hip before I get rid of the condom. Then I climb up the bed to untie the cord and rub circulation back into his arms.

I need to take care of him. I need to touch him and make sure I wasn’t too rough.

God, was I too rough?

I knew it would be different. I knew we’d be good together. I had no idea need could be like that. So strong it was almost violent. Raw and revealing. I’ve never felt this naked after sex before.

Is it because it was Miller or because this was my first time with a man?

You already know the answer.

It isn’t easy to admit it, even to myself. I can say I love him. I can say I want him. But in love? That kind of love? In the past, the mere idea of it would send me flying out of the country.

But I’ve already proven there’s nowhere I can go that would be far enough to get Miller out of my head or my heart. He’s there to stay, even though I know he’s the kind of man who would need someone he was in love with to stick around.

Does Miller want me sticking around? Did I scare him again?

Ask him.

“You’re quiet,” I say tentatively.

Miller breathes out a laugh and buries his face in my shoulder. “I’m processing. Or maybe I’m dead. It felt like it for a minute there.”

“Did I hurt you? Things got kind of intense. Was the cord too tight?”

“No. I mean, yeah, but in a good way. It was just what I needed. I had no idea sex would be that…that. Thank you.”

That what? And thank you? What the hell does that mean? Who politely thanks you for banging their brains out?

“It’s not this good with everyone,” I say firmly, feeling like a needy asshole. “It’s never this good.”

He sighs sleepily. “Well, you would know.”

I tighten my arms around him, needing a minute or two to compose myself before I blurt out something that— “I was jealous of Robbie. That’s why I followed him.”

Way to not blurt.

He stiffens, but I keep going. “That was when I knew I wanted you. That I had for a while. I haven’t slept with anybody since then.”

“Is this part of the afterglow experience people talk about? I’m new to this, so I just want to be sure we’re supposed to talk about other people we’ve almost slept with two minutes after seeing God.”

He sounds wide awake now.

Good job, Brendan. At least he saw God before you ruined it this time.

He sits up, dragging the covers over his lap, his lips still swollen and distracting. I want to kiss him again. “Why did you tell me that, B? Are you the one freaking out over there? This is your first time with a man. Any regrets?”

“I should be asking you that—it’s your first time with anyone,” I remind him defensively. “But no, no regrets here. And I’m not freaking out now, but back then I was. I even went to a club in London to see if it was all men or just you I was attracted to.”

When will you stop talking?

Miller runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “If you’re about to tell me a story about experimenting at a gay club with another guy, I might kick you out again. I’ve had to deal with your X-rated Travelocity stories for years. At least those gnomes were women.”

“No.” I reach for his hand and slide my fingers through his. “That’s what I’m trying to say. The whole time I was there, I was thinking about you. It’s just you, Millie. You’re the only one I want.”

He looks down at our hands, his brow crinkling again. “You don’t have to say that. I wasn’t holding out for a confession or a declaration of true love. I’m not experienced, but I’m not naïve either. We’re friends. We had fantastic sex. I’m okay with that.”