The Do-Over (The Miles High Club Book 4)

“Okay, thank you,” I hear Christopher say. He dances into the bathroom and puts his hands on his naked hips. “Guess who got us a late checkout?”

“You did.”

“I’m the man.” He points to his chest. “Move over.”

I scooch over in the deep bubbles, and as he sits down, the hot bath sloshes over the sides, flooding the floor. He slides into the water up to his neck as we lie top and tail.

It’s ten in the morning, and we’re taking advantage of every last minute in heaven.

A bath is a luxury we haven’t got access to in the hostel.

“I don’t want to leave this place,” I groan.

He closes his eyes in peaceful bliss. “You think I do?”

“What days is your course on?”

“Friday and Saturday.”

“Okay.” I think for a moment. “I guess we’ll head on to Germany on Sunday to meet the others?”

He nods.

“I think I’m going to quit my weekend job at the restaurant.”

“Why?”

“It’s holding us back.”

“No, it’s not.”

“We’ve been traveling for over three months and somehow are still stuck in Barcelona, where we started.”

He tries to justify it. “Not all the time. We come and go as we please. We’re only back weekends.”

“It costs money to come back here every weekend.”

“Not that much.”

I know there’s no easy way around this topic. “Eddie will be okay, Christopher.”

His eyes meet mine.

“He has his grandmother and his job, and this is his life. He’s happy here, and just because this isn’t your normal, you can’t forget that this is his.”

“I know.”

“You being his private bouncer at the hostel isn’t achieving your goals. You took twelve months out of your life because you wanted to travel the world and see everything. Returning to Barcelona every weekend is not achieving that for either of us.”

He exhales heavily and begins to soap up my feet as they rest on his chest.

“Just think about it, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Well, what will you do if I decide I want to keep coming back here?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I won’t be coming back with you every weekend, only sometimes, I guess.”

His eyes hold mine. “So we would spend weekends apart?”

“Babe.” I sigh sadly. “I don’t want to have regrets when I get home. In a year’s time this will all be over, and I’ll kick myself I didn’t see more when I had the chance.”

He nods.

“And the thing is, you also need to think of yourself. If you are this attached to Eddie in three months, where will that leave you in another nine months? I’m not saying cut all contact; I just mean that you can be a friend to him from wherever you are in the world. Call him; send him letters; visit him once or twice a year. Friendship is more than protecting someone at the bar. And besides, we both know Eddie is way tougher than you.”

He smiles sadly as he listens. “True.”

“What is the fascination that you have with him, anyway?” I ask. “Apart from the obvious of him being amazing, of course.”

“I admire him.”

I smile.

“He’s one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.” He smiles wistfully. “I just like being around him. He’s intelligent and strong.” He shrugs. “I can’t explain it, really.”

“Okay,” I concede.

He falls silent for a while. “But . . . you’re right.”

“Meaning?”

“I’ll do this course, and then we’ll leave Barcelona for good on Sunday.”

I smile sadly, already dreading saying goodbye to Eddie. “Is it wrong of me to say this?” I ask him.

“No, you’re right. I need to get on with it.”

His phone beeps with a text in the other room, and he frowns. “Jameson.”

“What?”

“That’s a text from Jameson. My oldest brother.”

“How do you know?”

“I have a different ringtone for all my brothers.” He gets out of the bath and goes to retrieve his phone and walks back into the bathroom reading the text, and then he smiles broadly. “Fuck yeah.”

“What?”

He passes the phone to me, and I read the message.

I booked you another four nights at the hotel.

Happy Birthday.

Jay, x

My mouth falls open. “It’s your birthday?”

He chuckles. “I guess it is.”

Four days, four heavenly nights.

This has been the best week of my life.

Sun, laughter, luxury hotel, and Christopher Miles. As if the universe knew we needed this time alone, it delivered.

With every day, every hour . . . every minute, I’ve slipped more and more under his spell. With every breath, fallen just that little bit harder.

With no distractions and being left utterly alone, we’ve bonded in a way I didn’t even know was possible. Sexually, mentally . . . intimately.

So, so close.

It’s our last night in our ritzy hotel room. Christopher starts his bar course tomorrow, and in three days, we leave Spain forever for Germany. I’m excited for what’s to come for us, because so far, our story is incredible.

The television is on softly in the background, and we are lying in bed. My bedside lamp is on, and the rest of the room is in filtered darkness. I have my book in my hand, and Christopher is lying the other way, his head near my feet, perched up on his elbow, staring at me. His finger is trailing up and down my leg as he lies seemingly deep in thought.

“A penny for your thoughts?” I ask.

He smiles softly, his eyes fixed on his fingers as they roam over my skin. “I’m just wondering how it is that the more I have you . . . the more I want you.”

We stare at each other in the darkness.

“Is it always like this?” He frowns. “Is this”—he gestures to the air between us—“normal?”

“No,” I reply without hesitation. “This is not normal. This is . . . special.”

He falls silent again, and I can see his brain ticking a million miles per minute. He has questions. This relationship stuff is all so new for him. “And?” I prompt him. “Ask me anything.”

“Your boyfriend . . .”

“You’re my boyfriend,” I correct him.

“Ex-boyfriend . . .”

“It wasn’t like this,” I reply, reading his mind.

His brow furrows. “How was it different?”

“Well . . .” I pause as I try to navigate just how honest I’m going to be with him. “Looking back, and now that I’ve met you, I don’t think I even really loved him . . . or him me, for that matter.”

“Why?”

“We were kids when we met. We were each other’s first.”

He listens intently.

I smile as I remember. “There was a lot of fumbling around in the dark, and sweetness. We cared for each other for sure, but it wasn’t that raging love that would conquer the world in a war.”

“What is this?” he whispers.

Love.

“You know what it is.”

You love me.

His eyes search mine.

“We could win the war and blow up the world.”

He smiles softly and leans down and kisses my foot before licking it.

Sex between us has hit a new high.

It’s changed.

We don’t always fuck now; sometimes we make love, and I have to say Christopher Miles is the master.

Tender.

Intimate and personal . . . the kissing, the care he takes of me, the way he worships my body . . . he takes me to a higher place than I ever knew existed.

He kisses my foot with an open mouth, his eyes locked on mine. “How long?” he whispers.

We’ve been waiting for my pill to kick in. “We’re good to go.”

His eyes flicker with arousal, and he inhales sharply.

I smile and spread my legs as an invitation. “You got something you want to give to me, baby?”

“Fuck yeah.” He stands and rushes into the bathroom and returns with some towels and a bottle of oil.

He lays the two towels out on the bed and then pulls me up onto my knees as he stands beside it. He lifts my nightdress over my head as he kisses me. He pours a little of the oil on his rock-hard erection, and with his hand over mine, he strokes himself.

I smile against his lips. Dirty bastard.

We kiss as our grip on him gets harder, the jerks almost violent, and I know he’s running on instinct. The primal urge to come inside of me has taken him over, and he is no longer in control.

He turns me away from him and bends me over onto my knees. I feel his stubble on my behind as he licks me.

God . . .

I drop to my elbows to open myself more for him.

He really begins to eat me, and I scrunch the sheets in my hands beneath me.

I need him. I need all of him inside me. I wiggle my behind in a silent invitation. “Fuck me,” I whisper.

I’m not scared anymore. I can ride his dick like a pro now.

He pours oil all over my behind. It drizzles down over my sex, and he rubs it into my swollen lips. “Fuck . . . you look good,” he murmurs. He slides his finger in and then another and then another, with a delicious twist at the end as he warms me up.

“Tell me how hard you’re going to blow,” I breathe.

He chuckles and slaps me hard on the cheek. I jump with a yelp. My skin stings, and I drop my head and smile. This is what he does so well. I’m never quite sure what the hell is happening. There is always an edge of pain with the pleasure he delivers.

So good with a side of ouch.

He holds himself at the base and bounces his hardened dick on my sex and then, without warning, slides home in one sharp movement.

The air leaves my lungs, and he stills to let me accommodate his size. My body ripples around his.

He moans, and I smile darkly. That’s it . . . the perfect sound.

Christopher Miles aroused is next level . . .

He takes my two hip bones in his hand and drives me into the mattress, hard and fast.

The oil slapping between our skin.

I close my eyes to try to deal with him. The strength that oozes from his large muscular body is taking mine over.

Powerful, piston-fast pumps.

Deep and wet, the sound of my body sucking him is loud in the room.

The bed is hitting the wall, the sound of our skin slapping is deafening, and good god . . .

I see stars . . . all the stars, maybe even the moon.

How can anyone be this good at sex? He’s an Oxford scholar on the subject, a professor, master of the universe.

I’m positive that if he ever did porn, he would break the internet.

With the sound of his moans and the feel of his thick, hard cock deep inside me, I lose control. My body contracts around his, and I come hard.

He slaps me on the behind and follows as he holds himself deep. I feel the telling jerk of his cock thrusting deep, and I smile into the mattress.

He tips his head back as he pants, gasping for air, and perspiration dusts his skin.

His hands tenderly rub my behind and up over my back: such a contrast to the beating his body just gave mine. “That was fucking good,” he replies in his husky aroused voice.

“Where we at?” I pant.

He chuckles and pulls out. “Getting there.” He rubs his fingers through the lips of my sex to feel himself there. “Eighty percent.” He keeps rubbing me there, and he inhales sharply, transfixed with what he’s staring at. “You have no idea how fucking hot this looks, Grumps. Me . . . inside you.” He lifts his hand to show me. Semen drips off his fingers. “Fucking hot,” he mouths before sucking his fingers clean.

Jeez . . .

What the hell?

The man’s a bona fide deviant.

CHRISTOPHER

We walk up the corridor of the hostel. It’s early morning. I have my bartending course today, and I wanted to check Grumps back into the hostel before I go.

We didn’t check out before we went to the hotel, so we still have the same room.

I open the door and am instantly hit with the stench of alcohol.

Fuck.

There are other people now staying in our room.

Strangers.

I look around at the four people in the beds, all men in only their underpants.

Still half-drunk.

One of them is naked, his soft dick on display as he sleeps.

Fuck.

“Close the door,” one of them grumbles.

I turn to Hayden; her eyes are wide as she looks around at the naked bodies. Up until now we’ve been blessed with good, respectful roommates.

“Screw this.” I pull her out of the room by the hand. “You’re not staying in there.”

“We have to,” she replies as I drag her down toward the office. I glance at my watch. Fuck it, I don’t have time for this shit this morning. “It will be fine.”

“It is not fucking fine,” I snap. I march into the office to see Howard, the manager. “Hi, Howard.”

“Hey, Christo.”

“Listen, we’ve got a problem. I need a private room for Hayden and me for three nights, please.”

He looks between us. “Finally got the balls to make a move, did you?”

“Fuck off. Listen. There are a bunch of drunk idiots in our room, and I’m not leaving Hayden with them. I have a bartending course on all weekend, and she has nowhere else to go. They’re all naked and drunk in there. What’s she supposed to do?”

“I’ll just go to the beach and read my book,” she says.

“It’s raining,” I snap.

“I’m fine,” she replies, indignant. “I’m not a damsel in distress, Christopher. I can look after myself, you know.”

“No private rooms left,” Howard replies.

“Fine. We’ll go back to the hotel.” I begin to drag Hayden from the office.

“We are not going back to the hotel. We’re not wasting that money.” She digs her heels in. “We’re staying here,” she demands. “I’m not a princess.”

“No.” I begin to see red. “Howard, we have stayed here every weekend for three months. Surely we get some preferential treatment, for fuck’s sake.”

He stares at me.

“How many fights have I broken up for you in that bar?”

“You caused half of them.”

“I mean it,” I splutter. I’m going to be late for my course.

“Fine, you can have a room on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You said you were doing a bar course?”

“Yeah, so?”

“You have to work behind the bar for me tonight.”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing yet.”

“It would be good practice.” Hayden smiles hopefully.

Damn it, I can’t leave her here with nowhere to hang today. “Fine. But I want the room keys now.”

“Deal.”

He holds up the keys, and I snatch them out of his hand. “And you’re paying me for tonight.”

“You can keep the tips.” We go to walk out of the office. “Oh, and Christo.”

“What?”

“It’s a full moon party tonight.”

“Are you fucking serious?” I bark. “Every man and his fucking dog will be here.”

“Thus the need for more bar staff.” He fakes a smile.

Great.

I drag Hayden down the hall quickly to the room, and I open the door. A tiny double bed sits in the middle of the room. “This place is a fucking shithole,” I snap.

“You’re just used to the hotel. It’s not so bad.” Hayden shrugs. “Looks like the perfect reading spot to me.”

“I am done with hostels.” I kiss her quickly. “See you tonight.”

“No, you won’t. You’re working,” she teases.

“Don’t remind me.”

I sit in class and stare at the blackboard. The teacher goes on and on and on.

This is the most boring and pointless course I’ve ever done in my life. I glance at my watch: 11:00 a.m.

Fuck.

My god . . . has time completely stopped?

I can’t sit here for another seven hours. I will literally die a long and painful death.

I exhale and flick my pen against my forehead as I try to focus.

I wonder what Grumps is doing. I slide my phone out of my pocket onto my lap, and I text her under the table.

Hi Babe,

What’s doing?

I wait for her reply . . .

The teacher goes on and on some more, and I keep glancing at my phone.

Why isn’t she answering?

I text her again.

Are you okay?

I wait for her reply . . .

I shuffle around in my chair. Why isn’t she answering?

An hour passes. Still nothing.

I get a vision of all the drunk assholes in the hostel, and I begin to sweat.

What if something has happened?

I text her again.

Grumps,

I’m getting worried.

Text me!

I stare at my phone under the table as I will it to ring.

Hayden . . . call me, fuck it.

“Mr. Miles,” the teacher calls.

I glance up.

“Distracting you, am I?”

Yes, you are, actually.

“Phone away. Now.”

I fake a smile. “Sorry.” I slide my phone back into my pocket, and I stare at the blackboard.

This course is pointless. Who cares about rules of alcohol consumption?

Not me, that’s for sure.

Finally, it’s lunch break, and I rush from the classroom and dig out my phone.

No missed calls.

No texts.

I march to the cafeteria as I dial Hayden’s number.

It rings out.

“Where the hell is she?”

I dial her number again . . . still no answer. I hang up and call her again.

No answer.

That’s it—I text her.

Call me RIGHT NOW!

I grab a sandwich and sit at the table and eat alone. I’m beginning to sweat.

What if something has happened to her?

I go over all the possible scenarios in my head.

She could be asleep . . . she could be getting harassed by idiots. She could be getting attacked as she walks to the shops. Maybe she’s getting drugged and raped right now.

Fuck.

I call her again . . . no answer.

I’ve got better things to do than worry about a missing girlfriend all fucking day.

Oh my god . . . she’s missing.

I call her again.

Five o’clock, and I dive out of the cab as it pulls up in front of the hostel.

I’m frantic.

I’ve had the worst day of my life. Hayden is missing, probably dead in a ditch.

I pay the driver and run inside and take the stairs two at a time. The place is packed with people in white.

Stupid fucking full moon party.

I run down the corridor and burst into our room. It’s empty.

My chest tightens . . . fuck, where is she?

I run down to the bar and look around in a panic. I see Eddie. “Where’s Hayden?” I stammer.

He looks around and points over to the corner. Hayden is sitting with a group of people, laughing and having the time of her life. She’s relaxed and having fun.

In her white dress . . . the sky turns red.

We make eye contact, and I turn and march back to the room, furious.

I storm into the shower, and I’m so angry that I can’t even see straight.

I shower and go back to the room to find Hayden lying on the bed. “Hi, babe.” She smiles happily. “How was it?”

“Why haven’t you answered your fucking phone?” I yell at the top of my voice.

Her face falls. “What?”

“I’ve been calling you. All day, worried sick.”

“What do you mean?” She picks up her phone and frowns as she reads the screen. “Forty-two missed calls?” She looks up at me. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought you were dead in a ditch,” I cry.

Her eyebrows rise. She’s surprised by my tone. “Don’t yell at me, Christopher.”

“Don’t yell at you!” I explode. “I’ve been worried sick all day. Do you know how fucking irresponsible you are?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“My phone was on silent while I read, and then I went to the bar and must have left it in the room. I wasn’t expecting a dog squad tracking my every move.”

“Dog squad!” I yell. “I’ll give you fucking dog squad.”

“I’m sorry you were worried, but I wasn’t expecting you to call me.” She rolls her eyes.

“That’s unacceptable,” I fire back. “Don’t fucking patronize me.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re being a drama queen. I’m going back to the bar.”

“Are you serious?” I yell.

“Yes. And you are supposed to be out there working right now . . . remember?”

I point to the door. “Get out!”

She smiles goofily, totally unfazed by my anger. “Okay.” She pecks me on the lips and leaves. My eyes nearly pop from my head. She did not just walk out midargument . . . I’m infuriated.

My blood pressure is through the roof.

I head out to my locker and pull out my backpack, and a drunk couple comes ambling down the corridor. They start making out, and as the girl walks backward, she falls on top of me.

“Watch what you’re fucking doing,” the guy growls to me.

I raise my eyebrows, my temper simmering dangerously close to the surface. I help the girl up. “I’m sorry you didn’t see me.”

She’s laughing and falling all over the place. “Hey, I’m glad I did,” she flirts.

The guy narrows his eyes at me, and I clench my jaw as I glare at him.

Come on, fucker . . . try me . . . I’m in the mood to sort you right out.

“Are you coming to the party?” The girl smiles sexily.

I roll my eyes and return to my backpack. Don’t go there.

I look through my backpack for something. I have to wear stupid white.

Shit, I discover that I only have a white sleeveless T-shirt and shorts. Not ideal to work behind the bar in, but it will have to do.

I get dressed and look in the mirror. Fuck, I look like a poser. My arms are too big for sleeveless. It will have to do; I have no alternative. I make my way out to the bar.

“Hey.” Eddie smiles excitedly. “I get to work with you tonight.”

“Great.” I nod. “Where do you want me?” My gaze wanders around the room as I search for Hayden.

“Oh . . . you’re hot.” A girl swoons. “I’ll have an Orgasm.” She smiles.

“Make that two.” Her friend laughs.

“A multiple. Bet you’ve given a few of those in your day,” the first girl adds, and they both burst out laughing. “And we’re next.”

Great . . . horny drunk girls . . . just what I need.

I turn my back to them. “Where’s the cocktail book?” I ask Eddie.

He passes it to me and goes back to serving. The people are standing ten deep, waiting to be served.

What the hell does a full moon have to do with people getting wasted? is what I’d like to know.

I read the directions for the Orgasms. I make them the best I can and hand them over. They’re guaranteed to taste like shit. “There you go.”

“What are you doing later?” the girl murmurs darkly. “We’d love to repay the favor and do a multiple for real.”

I fake a smile. “I’m busy.”

My eyes scan the crowd, busy trying to locate my wayward fucking girlfriend. Where the hell is she now?

“I’ll have a Corona,” a guy says.

“Sure.” I turn to get the Corona and glance over to see Hayden dancing with a group of girls.

There she is.

I serve a few more people, my eyes constantly flicking over to linger on Hayden.

She’s dancing and having the time of her life, totally unfazed. In her hot white dress.

I hate that she looks so edible.

A guy approaches her, and I stop what I’m doing. He puts his arm around her, and she steps back.

I keep watching.

“I’ll have two Guinnesses,” someone yells.

I turn to get the beers, my eyes fixed on my girl. The guy keeps talking to her and talking.

She takes a step back, and he takes a step forward.

He leans to say something in her ear.

Something snaps. The next thing I know I’m on the dance floor with my hand around the guy’s throat. “Back the fuck off.”

HAYDEN

My eyes widen in horror. “Christopher,” I yell. “What are you doing?”

Christopher glares at the guy he has in a choke hold. “You do not fucking touch her. Do you understand me!” he yells in his face.

The guy pushes him off. “Fuck off, pretty boy.” He then grabs me aggressively around the waist and slams my body into his. “I’ll do whatever I want with her.”

Oh no.

Christopher snaps. He pulls me from the idiot’s grip and pushes me out of the way and then punches the guy full in the face.

“Ahh,” I cry as the hit connects.

The guy returns a hit, and Christopher staggers back. He runs forward and tackles the guy to the ground as they fight. They wrestle around, arms and punches flying everywhere.

“Oh my god, stop it,” I cry. I try to run in to break it up, and someone holds me back. People are shuffling in, trying to see. A few people step in to help Christopher, and then some stick up for the other guy.

It gets broken up, and the two men are held back from each other.

Christopher’s eyes find me across the crowd, and I throw up my arms. “What the hell are you doing?”

His nostrils flare. He turns and marches out of the hostel.

What the hell is wrong with him?

He practically runs down the corridor and pushes out the large front doors and down the stairs. He begins to walk off into the darkness up the road as I follow.

“Christopher,” I call.

He ignores me and keeps walking.

“Christopher,” I yell. “Don’t you dare ignore me!”

He stops, his back still to me.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting the fuck out of here,” he says, his back still turned.

I catch up and walk around to see his face, and my heart drops. He’s upset.

“What are you doing?” I ask softly.

His eyes hold mine.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“I don’t fucking know,” he cries. His eyes are wild, his hair is tousled, and his chest rises and falls as if he’s gasping for air. The adrenaline in his system must be through the roof.

I frown, taken aback. Something’s going on with him. He’s in the middle of another major freak-out.

“It’s okay . . . ,” I say softly.

“Nothing about this is okay, Hayden,” he cries. “I’m going fucking crazy.”

I stare at him, unsure what to say.

“I’ve been frantic all fucking day over you, and now . . .” He throws his arms up in surrender. “I saw him touch you, and . . .” He drags his hands through his hair.

“You got jealous,” I say softly.

“I do not get jealous,” he yells, infuriated.

He’s having some kind of episode here, and I don’t want to throw fuel on the fire.

I need to try to calm him down.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer my phone today. I didn’t mean to worry you,” I say.

“That’s the point. I don’t worry. I don’t get jealous, Hayden. I don’t know if I’m up or down or just going fucking crazy,” he cries. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

I stare at him. He really has no idea . . .

“You’re in love with me,” I say softly.

His face falls.

“But that’s okay.” I smile hopefully. “Because I love you too.”

His eyes search mine.

“And now you’ve gone and ruined a very special moment between us.” I put my hands on my hips.

He stares at me, shocked to silence.

“Get your shit together and go back inside and finish your shift,” I demand.

Perspiration beads on his brow. His eyes are crazy, and I’m unsure if he’s about to run. I just need him to calm down and go back and work. If he runs now, it’s all over between us. I’m not going through that shit again.

“This is unacceptable behavior, Christopher. You can’t beat up every man who tries to talk to me. It’s not okay.” I shrug, frustrated. “I’m not a possession. You don’t have the right to act like that.”

“He was asking for it.”

“So be the bigger person and walk away. This isn’t who you are. You’re a lover, not a fighter.”

His eyes hold mine.

“Go and finish your shift. I’m going to bed.”

“You’re not coming back to the party?”

“No. My dickhead boyfriend spoiled my mood.”

He exhales heavily, disappointed in himself.

“Just go.” I point inside, and he turns and trudges back up the stairs.

“You’re really going to bed?” he asks me again.

“Yes,” I snap. I march past him down the corridor to our room as he follows me.

I open the door to our room, and I glance up at him.

“I’ll see you when I finish?” he asks hopefully.

“If you carry on like an idiot and get in one more fight tonight . . . so help me god.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” I march into the room, and he stands tentatively by the door. “And you’re sleeping on the floor tonight,” I add.

He nods and then lingers as if waiting for something.

“And I’m not telling you I love you . . . because you’re just an idiot.” I turn down the blankets in a huff.

“I’m not telling you either,” he says.

I smirk, trying to hide my smile, and I know it’s going to be okay. “Good, don’t then.” I climb into bed. “Get out.”

His eyes twinkle with a certain something. “I think you have anger issues,” he says.

“So help me god, Christopher.” I throw a cushion at him. “Get out.” It hits the wall beside his head, and he smiles his first genuine smile.

“Good night, Grumpy.”

“There is nothing good about this night,” I lie.

The door quietly closes, and I smile into the darkness.

We fought, and he stayed . . . progress.

It’s just at 3:00 a.m. when I hear the door open. Christopher tiptoes in to the flashlight on his phone, undresses, and climbs into bed behind me and snuggles up to my back. He smells of soap, freshly showered, and I smile with my eyes closed.

He’s home.

It’s been a long night without him. Even when fighting, he was still missed.

“What time is it?” I mumble.

“Three.” He kisses my temple. “Go back to sleep, baby.” He kisses my shoulder from behind, and goose bumps scatter up my spine. He pulls my hair back and gently kisses my neck. “I’m sorry about tonight,” he murmurs against my skin; his fingers trail up and down my skin as he thinks. “I just can’t stand the thought of someone taking you from me,” he murmurs sadly. “It makes me fucking crazy.”

I can feel his erection as it grows behind me. Christopher Miles is a sexual being. This is his way of making up. He’s scared; I want to make him feel better.

I stretch my neck out, granting him access and taking the cue. His hand roams over my skin up to my breast, his thumb dusting over my nipple as he takes my earlobe between his teeth.

His erection digs into my hip, and even in darkness I can see it so clearly.

I roll over and straddle his large body. He stares up at me.

The air crackles between us.

I lift myself onto my knees and slide down onto his large erection. I rock from side to side to loosen myself up and grant him entry.

His length is thick and hungry. My body slowly sinks deep down onto his. He holds my hip bones as he stares up at me in awe.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” I whisper. “I’m all yours.”

He sits up in a rush, his lips crashing against mine as he kisses me and holds me close. Emotional overload. Too intense to try to contain. An intimacy that I never knew I needed.

We rock together in the darkness, feeding our bodies, surrendering to the feelings between us.

I’ve made a lot of bad decisions in my life, done things that I regret. But there is one thing in life that I do know for certain . . . I am utterly and irrevocably in love with the beautiful Christopher Miles.

We were meant to meet.

He’s the one.