The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys 1) - Page 155

“It scared me, Miller. All that talk about confusion and falling asleep in interviews.” My hand on his face moved up to touch a scar on his brow that wasn’t there before. “You never told me.”

“I didn’t want to scare you, Vi. God knows I’ve done enough of that our entire lives. I figure if I can push through and finish this tour, then it’d be over. I’ll have made enough money to take care of you. I could pay for your tuition anywhere you wanted. In Santa Cruz. I figured when it was done, we could go home.”

“Home,” I murmured, and then his arms tightening around me, holding me together when I felt I’d been falling apart.

“I love you, Violet. I am so completely in love with you that being away from you is making me fucking crazy.”

Tears blurred my vision as my heart pulled toward him, the magnetic polarity of us realigning. “I know. I hate it, too. Every day is impossible. But I’m here now. No more goodbyes.”

His eyes searched mine, hope and relief shining in them. Then his expression hardened, and this time with a desire that burned right through me. A possessive heat that flooded his eyes.

He stood up, towered over me. I felt the air between us tighten, pulling. His hands took my face, his thumb brushing my lower lip. My pulse was a drum in my chest, counting the seconds until he was mine again. But he took his time, soaking me in, savoring this moment when I only wanted him. We’d been apart long enough.

“Miller…”

And then his mouth descended, capturing mine in a heated, delving kiss. My eyes fell shut as I became saturated with everything that was him. The scent of expensive clothes and cologne suffused me, but beneath it, he was still there. His skin. The taste of him. So familiar and safe.

Like coming home.

His kisses erased the distance between us. His nipping teeth, his stubble grazing my chin, his tongue sliding and tangling with mine, a reacquaintance. A reunion of bodies and souls, hands pulling at clothes in an exchange of gasping breaths and moans. We kissed until we knew each other again, settled into each other’s spaces after the long absence. We kissed until we fell back into place, where we belonged.

He lifted me and carried me to the bedroom, the window’s shades drawn.

“I need a shower,” I whispered against his lips.

I needed more time to reacclimate us. To be with him with nothing left between us. Naked together under a bright light, the distance between us washing away.

He nodded in understanding and pulled me to my feet. We kissed as our clothes came off, pieces at a time. In the cavernous bathroom, he turned on the shower and drew me under rainfall. I watched the water bead over his skin and slide in rivulets over the cut lines of his body. My eyes drank him in while my hands glided up and down the smooth, muscled perfection of his back.

“So beautiful,” I murmured. “Magnificent.”

“God, Vi… Never again. I’m not letting you go, ever again.”

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into him. I planted open-mouthed kisses on his chest, over his heart, tasting the water and the salt of his skin. My exploring lips found one of his small nipples, and I sucked it between my teeth.

Miller hissed a breath, and his hands that had been tentative and soft on me, now roamed and grabbed, taking their fill. He reacquainted himself with my breasts, the curve of my hip, my stomach. Everywhere he touched left licks of fire while his hardness sought entry into the soft, wet heat of me.

“Vi…” he gritted out.

“Not yet.”

I kissed him long and slow and then turned him around to take in the beauty of his back, the lines of his neck, the muscles moving under his smooth skin, tapering to his waist. I kissed him between his shoulder blades, tasted him with my tongue, then reached for the soap.

I lathered the broad plains of his back then moved around to his abdomen, skirting an insulin pump that had replaced his CGM implant—another change in his life I hadn’t been aware of.

My exploration of his body grew more purposeful; I never wanted to not know him.

I slipped my hand down to his rock-hard erection, gripping its girth and stroking him. Anticipation lit my nerve-endings on fire, relearning what he liked. How to touch him in order to draw that sexy, masculine growl out of his chest. He had only been mine a handful of times, and now, I was taking him back, inch by inch.

Miller gripped my wrist that held him and looked at me over his shoulder. “I’m going to come if you keep doing that.”

I let him go, and he turned to face me, his hair falling over his eyes that were blue, dark and hooded. My limbs weakened at the pure want I saw there, but I turned my back, before I surrendered to him completely. I wanted his hands on me, washing away the grit of time and distance, erasing our separation with every touch.

I lifted the long, wet mass of my hair off my neck and held it up, offering him my naked back and my breasts, exposed and defenseless in front. Miller’s hands found them first, kneading them, making them slippery with soap, as his mouth clamped down on the slope of my neck. I gasped, arching into his touch while pressing my backside against his erection.

His hands skimmed down the curve of my spine, down to the rounded flesh of my ass, then back up my back. I felt the restraint in his every movement until his patience ran out, and my need had consumed me to the point of delirium. Quickly, we washed the soap away and then Miller lifted me again and carried me to the bed. My skin shivered in the cool air, but his body blanketed me with its perfect heaviness and heat. He kissed me until we were both breathless then lay his forehead to mine.

“I can’t stop looking at you,” he breathed.

Tags: Emma Scott Lost Boys Romance
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