Chapter Forty-Eight
MARINA
PRESENT
“Oh, Miles!” Ma traps Miles in maybe the tightest hug he’s ever had as soon as we walk through the front door to their house. “I am so glad you are here, tesoro . I’ve missed seeing your pretty face around my shop!”
“I’ve been a little busy,” he says, his gaze cutting to mine. I can’t help the blush that rises on my cheeks.
Ma smiles that signature approving smile as she hooks her arm through his. “Well, I can’t be too upset then, can I?”
“Hello, daughter of the happy couple, where have you been?” May asks, looking at me from where she’s standing on a dining chair, trying to tack the sparkly bunting up to the wall that Ma probably got from the two-dollar store.
I’d usually be the person organising decorations. I should’ve had this place looking like a decoration store threw up in here, but like Miles said, we’ve been a little busy.
From my doctor's appointment, to Miles buying us a house, to our housewarming party, and girls' night last night, I haven’t made enough time for my parents.
But tonight is their night, and I want it to be as special for them as possible. Forty years of marriage is no easy feat, even if the two of them always made it look that way.
“Actually,” May holds up her spare hand, “I don’t need to know.”
I just shake my head as big arms wrap around my waist and a heavy head lands on my shoulder.
I can hear the sound of cheers from outside and the sound of Leo complaining, which means that the rest of them are out there playing corn hole. Leo is notoriously bad, and surprisingly, Rafael is a killer.
“You’re doing great, May,” Miles says.
“I can’t get this fucking thing to stick,” she says, pushing on the wall.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Rafael’s voice booms through the space. May’s eyes go wide as she looks towards us for help. “Why are you two standing here letting a pregnant woman stand on a chair right in front of you?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer; he just strides over to May, picking her up and carrying her like a baby over to the couch.
“It’s fine, baby,” she says.
His frown is menacing. “I’ll decide what is fine. What if you fell?”
“I wouldn’t have fallen, Rafael. I’m pregnant, not incapable.”
His face is seriousness embodied. “You could’ve gotten vertigo or something.”
“I’ve never had vertigo in my life!” She throws her hands up.
“Yeah, you’ve never craved strawberries with a heart-stopping amount of salt on them either, but here we are.”
I just turn around in Miles’s arms, looking away before I get dragged into that conversation. But Miles’s eyes aren’t on me, or Rafael and May, they’re looking around the room, taking everything in.
It dawns on me then that he’s never stepped foot in this house before. “So this is where you grew up?”
I feel a kind of fluttering in my tummy, like I’m a teenager bringing my crush over for the first time. Not that any of them walked through the front door, they climbed up the lattice and through my window. “This is it.”
He steps out of my arms, slowly wandering over to the side table that is littered with picture frames.
One is of the three of us in front of the Tower of Pisa when I was thirteen. My curls were frizzy from the wind, and my mouth was full of braces, but I was so happy.
There’s ones of us and Caio out the front of Hotel Dolce when he first bought it, before he turned it into the destination that it is today.
There’s even one of Isla and Caio from their wedding day.
But Miles picks up the black and white photo of Ma holding me as a baby, my dark hair fluffy, even back then.
I just watch him quietly, the hollering from outside feeling distant as I watch him look over my memories.
“If you want to see the good stuff,” Pa appears from the kitchen, a dish towel tossed over his shoulder, and a small smile on his face. “It’s upstairs in her room, along with her boy band posters, and motorbike dream boards.”
“Didn’t anyone tell you you’re supposed to keep some things under wraps?” I say to him. “How is a girl supposed to keep any element of mystery when her dad spills her secrets?” He just grins before sliding back into the kitchen.
Miles just looks at me, his gaze expectant and his eyebrows raised. I just groan, rolling my eyes before leading him up the stairs.
His hand finds mine as I walk up the carpeted steps, my stomach flipping as I reach the door. Why am I nervous? It feels like something he should've seen years ago.
He knows so much about me, yet he’s never seen my room. I know it's my childhood bedroom, but it feels like an important part of me. I spent so many years in this room, looking to the boys on my roof to solve all of my teenage problems.
I know that it’s exactly how I left it when I first moved out, and even then, I hadn’t touched anything in years. I’m a creature of comfort after all.
I take a deep breath before twisting the doorknob, opening the door, and letting Miles walk in ahead of me.
“Oh, so he wasn’t kidding.” He laughs as he looks up at the posters of Big Time Rush and the Jonas Brothers on the slanted roof.
“I was in love, okay?” I say as I close the door behind me, blocking out the ruckus from downstairs.
Miles turns around, grinning at me before he walks over to my dressing table, picking up random tubes of makeup and looking at the Polaroids that are stuck to my mirror of Leo and me dressed up as Morticia and Gomez Adams for Halloween the year before I moved away.
“I like it in here,” he says, flopping down on top of my dark brown linen comforter.
“Yeah?” I lay down next to him, my eyes catching on the slight dent in the roof from where I used to throw a rubber ball when I was bored.
“Yeah, it feels like I’m walking around inside your brain.”
That pulls a laugh from me. “I guess it kind of is like that, but it’s missing a few things.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?” He reaches over, rolling me on top of him. I giggle as I press up on my hands, now straddling him.
“Well,” I say, “there’s this guy.”
“A guy?” His brows pull together as his hands find the globes of my ass. “What’s he like?”
“Well, the first day I met him, I thought he was so full of himself. He walked into my bar with his little pilot’s hat on and stared at me for a really long time, actually. Some might call it stalker-ish behavior.”
“Right?” He nods. “And would some call it potentially outlandish behavior that you kissed him that very next night?”
I shrug. “I might have made the situation a little bit worse, yeah. ”
“Worse, huh?” He grins. “I seem to recall you being the one who wanted me naked the very next time you saw me.”
I can’t help but grin back. “And I seem to recall you not wanting to see me naked for a month.”
He shakes his head, his tongue in his cheek. “I wanted to rip that bikini straight off of you and you know it.”
“Then you should’ve done it.”
“I can’t go back in time,” he says.
“No,” I say, leaning down until our lips are a hairbreadth apart, “but you can make up for lost time.”
“Is that what you want to do, princess?” He reaches his hand between our bodies, stroking me through my jeans. “You want me to fuck you right here? In your childhood bedroom, where anyone could walk in any minute?”
I just close my eyes, heat pooling in between my legs as he pops the button on my jeans. He’s right, anyone could come in at any moment, but my common sense has taken a back seat to my desire.
I just crush my lips to his and he sits up, our bodies coming flush as we share breath. I feel his groan in my throat as I roll my hips, grinding against him.
This hunger between us only grows with every night we spend like this. It’s as if neither of us is ever satisfied. It’s never enough; we always need more of each other.
I gasp when he pushes me off him. “Take off your jeans.”
He leaves no room for argument, no room for questions, as his hungry eyes watch me. I slowly slide down the zip, purposely making every movement achingly drawn out, even though I’m throbbing for him, because the ravenous look in his eyes has me captivated.
I push the denim over my hips, taking a step towards him before turning around. The noise that comes from him is as if he’s a man starved and looking at his first meal in months.
“Jesus Christ, Marina,” he says, his hands rough as they land on my cheeks, grabbing and squeezing. He pulls on my hips and I instinctively lean forward as he pulls my ass into his chest.
Then I feel his lips on my skin, his tongue tracing patterns over my ass as he kisses me. Kisses that get closer and closer toward where my lace g-string hides between my cheeks.
“I am beyond obsessed with you, do you know that?” he says, his hand slipping between my legs to touch me through the lace. “How obsessed I’ve been since the first day I saw you?”
He rubs delicate circles, leaving me desperate for more. “I couldn’t even look at anyone else all these years, your perfect pussy is the only thing I could think about.”
I moan into the quiet room. Miles chuckles. “Do I need to gag you, princess?”
I just shake my head, leaning further into him as he drags his fingers all the way up my seam, nudging his thumb over the spot I didn’t know would be so sensitive. I gasp at the new sensation.
He chuckles from behind me, where I know he’s enjoying watching my body’s reaction to him. Then his hands are back on my hips, his left palm lands on my ass with a firm smack before I hear him shuffling back on the bed.
I push my jeans all the way down my legs, bending over for emphasis. My g-string follows soon after.
“Good lord.” I turn around, bare from my waist down, to see Miles with his head on my pillows, and a knowing smirk on his face. “Now get over here and sit on my face.”
I feel heat shoot through me. “What?” A laugh bubbles out of me. “I’ll suffocate you.”
“Good. Now come here.”
His hands are behind his head like he’s somewhere on a beach, relaxing in the sun, not telling me to sit on his face so he can eat me out in my childhood bedroom.
“I’m not going to ask again, princess.”
My stomach twists as I kneel on the bed, slowly making my way towards him until he pulls one of my legs over him, leaving me straddled right above his chest .
“You might want to hold onto the headboard, baby,” he says, a smirk on his face as he looks up at me from between my legs.
“And you might want to keep it down, unless you want us to get interrupted. But personally, I want more than anything to taste your release on my tongue for the rest of the night.”
“Oh my god,” I huff out as I wrap my hands around the metal headboard, following his instructions. Miles’s tongue meets my core within seconds, and my grip instantly tightens.
His tongue moves at an agonising pace, slowly licking me all the way from my entrance up to my most sensitive spot, and when his tongue flicks over it, my hips jerk in response.
“Oh fuck,” I breathe.
“Didn’t I tell you to sit on my face, princess?”
He grips my hips, yanking me down until his face is buried in my pussy.
I moan as his hands knead my ass, pushing me forward as he devours me. He licks and sucks until I’m writhing above him, grinding against his face. I’d feel self-conscious if he wasn’t groaning in satisfaction beneath me.
I throw my hand over my mouth as heat builds in my core, remembering just how many people are downstairs.
Something about the fact that we are doing this in a house full of people makes it all the more exhilarating, makes it even hotter as Miles closes his mouth around my clit.
Sucking and licking as I stifle my moans above him, biting my hand to hold it in because I’m about to come, and all I want to do is scream.
Miles’s grip on my ass turns desperate as I shamelessly move back and forth, chasing the tension that’s building within me with every movement of his tongue.
“ Fuck, Miles ,” I whimper, my voice no more than a pained whisper. His only response is the continued pace of his tongue against me, not letting up until I’m shuddering above him, my own hand covering my mouth as I moan into it.
After my body stops shaking with the force of my release, I raise my hips and climb off of Miles, collapsing on the bed beside him.
Both of us are puffing as we lie here, and I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me as I look up into the eyes of my teenage crushes.
I’m about to roll over and unstrap his belt when his phone rings in his pocket.
He sits up, his eyes widening as he pulls it out of his pocket. I can feel his energy change like a switch. “I have to take this,” he says, shuffling off the bed.
“Oh, okay, yeah.” I roll off the bed, searching the floor for my underwear.
He rounds the mattress, grabbing me by the waist and planting a kiss on my cheek. “Take your time.”
And as he steps out of the door, carefully closing it behind him, I hear three words that set my heart racing. “Good evening, sir.”