19. Wrapped Up in the Benefits
19
Roxy
Istayed away from Miles for a few days after our night in the hotel together. I needed time to get my head on straight. Sleeping with him is one thing, but falling asleep in his arms while watching a movie, then waking up in the same spot the next morning to his sleepy, gorgeous smile is yet another.
Butterflies erupted in my stomach as his fingers toyed with my hair. I could hear his heartbeat quicken against my ear, and if that wasn’t obvious enough, the tent in the sheet over his lap was proof-positive.
He was ready for more, and frankly, so was I.
But instead of taking advantage of the moment, I yawned and stretched, then slipped out of bed. Grabbing my clothes, I headed straight into the bathroom to get dressed. When I walked back out into the room, Miles was dressed, too.
I ignored the disappointment in my gut.
I told myself it was the right thing to do.
We got so wrapped up in the “benefits,” we forgot about the “only friends” part for a while.
But I can’t avoid him tonight. He’s here at the restaurant with Riggs, Porter, and Foster, a little private celebration of their big win. He made sure to ask the hostess to sit them in my section, so I’ve been subjected to his heated stares and secret smiles for the last twenty minutes or so.
And it’s making me feel things I have no business feeling.
Plastering on my customer service smile, I head back out with a fresh round of drinks for the table. As I approach, I overhear Foster talking about building a house in Sublime.
“You’re moving to Sublime, too?” I ask as I hand out the glasses of ale.
Foster looks up at me with a soft smile. “Yeah. I have to get out of that condo. Now that the season is over, the guys are partying every night, and that’s just not my scene. Plus, I like the small-town vibe of Sublime.”
“But it’s going to take at least eight months to build his house,” Porter adds.
“I told him he could come stay with me in the meantime, but he turned me down,” Miles says, reaching out to nudge Foster’s shoulder.
I meet Foster’s eyes. “Why is that?”
He shrugs, but there’s a gleam in his eyes that says I should know exactly why he doesn’t want to stay with Miles. His voice deepens when he says, “I don’t want to impose.”
My gaze shoots to Miles, and one corner of his mouth curls up. I blink a few times, then choose to ignore the obvious––Foster thinks he’d be imposing because of me.
But that’s ridiculous. Miles and I are just friends.
I open my mouth to say so, then snap it shut. I don’t need to convince Foster of anything. Miles and I know what’s happening between us, and that’s all that matters.
“I told him he should stay at Hadley’s place,” Riggs says before taking a long sip of his beer.
“Oh, yeah,” I say, returning my attention to Foster. “I can probably get you a discount. Perks of knowing the owner.”
I shoot him a wink, and he shakes his head.
“I’d pay double the going rate if she were to take pity on me and let me stay. Eight months is a long time.”
“She has the room,” I offer. “She’s never fully booked outside of the rare holiday weekend, and I know she needs some repairs and renovations done around the house. You any good with a hammer?”
Foster nods. “My dad is a contractor. I worked at his job sites every summer until I went to college.”
I nod. “Want me to talk to her for you?”
“No. I can handle it,” he says.
“Okay,” I say. “You guys good for now? Your food should be out any minute.”
Riggs, Porter, and Foster all nod, but when I look at Miles, he’s got a fire burning in his blue eyes…which are focused on my chest. I clear my throat, and his eyes snap up to meet mine. He shifts subtly in his chair, just enough to let me know he’s got a little discomfort happening downstairs.
My lady bits stand up and dance a jig at the notion, and I feel heat bloom in my cheeks. Before I can embarrass myself, I spin around and stride back to the kitchen to check on the guys’ food.
And to give myself a minute to calm down.
It’s starting to feel like the benefits part of our agreement is far-outweighing the friends part. The little voice in my mind screaming at the danger is muted by the voice in my vagina screaming for more of Miles’ attention.
I tell that needy bitch to shut the hell up as I gather the guys’ plates onto a tray, then take a deep breath before heading back out to their table. As I place the plates in front of each of them, I can feel Miles’ gaze burning against my skin. I refuse to make eye contact with him until I set his food down, and when I see the heat burning in their blue depths, my internal temperature skyrockets.
“Stop,” I murmur in a voice that won’t carry to the others, and Miles chuckles.
He knows what he’s doing.
And he knows it’s working.
I stay away from them as much as possible while they eat, only approaching when it looks like they might need another round of drinks. They all switch to water except for Porter, who rode with Foster, meaning he’s the only one not driving tonight.
And when I chance a look at Miles, he’s biting his lower lip, which he releases slowly as his eyes meet mine in a blatant invitation.
The voice in my mind goes silent beneath the rejoicing of my lady bits, and the need pulsing there drives me to take action. When I print the check, I grab a napkin and write a note on it for Miles.
I’m going on a fifteen-minute break. Meet me at my car.
I slip the note and the check into a binder and walk over to the table. Bending over, I hand Miles the binder and whisper, “See you soon,” before turning and walking away. I feel his eyes on me as I go, and when I look over my shoulder, I see him open the binder and read the note.
His chair screeches across the floor as he stands in a rush. I see him mumbling something to his friends, pulling a wad of cash from his wallet and tossing it down, then plucking the napkin from the binder and shoving it into his pocket.
He meets my gaze across the restaurant, gives me a nod, and stalks toward the front door. I pick up the pace, calling out to the kitchen staff that I’m going on break before grabbing my purse from the employee break room and sliding out the back door.
Fishing my keys from the depths of my cluttered purse, I press the button on the key fob to unlock the doors. The headlights flash through the dimly lit employee parking lot, and I pause next to the hood to wait for Miles. As soon as I see him round the corner and spot me, I climb into the backseat to wait.
He picks up the pace, jogging forward and sliding into the seat next to me before pulling the door closed behind him.
“Hi,” he whispers, his hands fisting into my hair to pull me in for a kiss.
I kiss him hungrily, sucking on his tongue as my fingers pluck at the button and zipper on his pants. He groans into my mouth when I slip my hand beneath the waistband of his underwear to grip his cock and pull it free.
“We shouldn’t…public…cops,” he murmurs between kisses and groans as I stroke him.
“It’s fine…nobody here…tinted windows,” I murmur back, then break off the kiss to bend over and suck him between my lips.
“Jesus. Fuck. Roxanne,” he moans, leaning back against the seat. “I’ve been hard for you all night. Not going to last.”
His words are choppy and breathless as I tease his silky flesh with my tongue. Opening my mouth wider, I push him all the way in until he hits the back of my throat, and a few more curses flow from his lips.
I feel his thigh tense beneath my forearm, and I know he’s close. Pumping the base of his cock with my hand, I move my mouth over him, sucking and licking until he huffs out a choked breath. He explodes into my mouth, and I swallow rapidly.
When the tension drains out of him, I give him one last, slow lick before sitting up and shooting him a wide grin. He smiles back, then leans over to press a firm kiss to my lips.
When he tries to deepen it, I pull back with a shake of my head.
“I have to get back to work.”
“Then come over after your shift,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to my cheek before bringing his lips to my ear. In a soft whisper, he adds, “I’m going to devour that sweet pussy like I’m starved for it. You’ll be screaming my name tonight, Roxanne, and I won’t stop until I’ve had my fill and you’ve come too many times to count.”
I suck in a shuddering breath, my head bobbing in agreement.
“I’ll see you in a few hours, then?” he asks, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping them up.
“Yes,” I say, swallowing thickly as my mind conjures up images of what’s going to happen when I get there.
“Good girl,” he says with a satisfied smile, and my mind implodes.
Grinning like he knows the effect his words had on me, he presses one last kiss to my mouth and climbs from the car. I take a moment to even out my breathing, then take his hand as I step out. Grabbing my purse and the keys I dropped on the floorboard, I straighten and meet Miles’ gaze.
Lifting the hand he’s still holding, he presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist, holding the eye contact the entire time. Then he releases me and walks away.
Holy shit. This isn’t what friends do. But there’s no way I’m changing my mind, now. I’m too worked up. Too needy.
Fuck.
I’m in so much trouble.