The One With Uncle Ben
While the conversation at the table flew its own lively course, mentally I wasn’t there; somewhere in Mexico, perhaps, curled in a hammock under a palm tree, the waves crashing against the shore, lulled me into a peaceful afternoon nap. That would be nice.
A yawn stretched the corners of my mouth—the result of a long night of heart-to-heart talk with Jo.
My eyelids suddenly felt heavy and I struggled to keep them open.
God, I was so, so sleepy. My shoulders felt slightly sore; a couple of hours spent under the scorching sun made my skin itch.
The exhaustion of the day slowly washed over me.
As soon as the dinner was finished—the last spoon of lemon and lime posset eaten and the last coffee drunk—I excused myself, registering a confusion in Miles’ eyes, a wisp of concern in Jo’s and a lingering glance at Blake’s.
Well, sorry Blake, you can ask me on a date tomorrow. It’s only a day away.
“Thanks, Mum, the dinner was lovely,” I said, then bid all a good night.
Someone knocked on my door just as I was about to surrender myself to my bed and, as you might have already suspected, yes, that was Miles.
My hair gathered up in a messy bun, pyjamas on, hands still slightly moist after the cream, I opened the door.
“Hey.” He grinned at me, an eyebrow raised, his gaze slowly sweeping down my body.
“Save it!” I couldn’t help but smile.
“What? I didn’t say anything.” He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a smirk.
“And let’s keep it that way,” I retorted, raising an eyebrow of my own.
Miles grinned again, then shifted closer and pressed his palm against the wall. “Have a drink with me?”
I tilted my head, contemplating. “Hmm, I was actually gonna go to bed.”
“You can go to mine.”
I laughed. “Tempting.” I bit my lip. “But—” I hesitated, searching for an excuse.
“There are ghosts!” he blurted out dramatically, glancing at his door behind his shoulder.
A slow smile broke onto my face. “Ghosts?”
“Very scary ones.”
“Like…Charles Dickens’ ‘A Christmas Carol’ scary?”
“Much worse,” he whispered, feigning distress.
A soft chuckle erupted from me. “Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll have just one tiny glass.”
***
“A tiny glass for you,” Miles said, giving me just a little pour of red.
“Thanks,” I breathed, glancing around his—well, my—room.
“And a mega pint glass for me,” he muttered, making me laugh.
“Someone’s been watching the defamation trial.”
“Well, weren’t we all?” He put the bottle away and took a sip of wine.
“So—” I walked towards the bed, crossing my legs under me as I sat at its corner. “—how many ghosts have you seen here?”
Miles smirked. “A couple.”
“A couple?”
“Well, okay,” he sighed, striding towards me, “just one.”
“Hmm.” I tilted my head up to look at him. “What’s this ghost look like?”
As he stood, towering over me, his hand reached my face; the back of it gently brushed against my cheek as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Then, as he lifted my chin up, he leaned in to kiss me. Gentle and quick. A soft touch of lips. But enough for me to want to stay.
Miles straightened, taking another gulp of wine. “I think the last time she visited me she told me her name was Candice.”
“So it’s a she ?” I put my glass on the nightstand, then crossed my arms with a dramatic scowl.
“Are you going to cause a scene, Miss Grant?”
“You bet I am.” I raised my eyebrow at him, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
“I must say, jealousy does look good on you,” Miles smirked, raising his glass to his lips.
I laughed, then quickly covered my mouth as a small yawn escaped me. “Oh, sorry.”
“Tired?”
“A little,” I whispered, watching the way his lips wrapped around the glass, the red wine staining them a deeper shade.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, then headed for the bathroom.
***
June 21st
I awoke to a peaceful stillness; the room was still dim but filled with a soft glow. The dawning morning light was gently easing into the space, welcoming the new day.
Asleep, Miles lay beside me. His bare chest expanded with each breath, a warm whisper against my neck. One hand rested possessively on my belly; his fingers gently grazed my skin, tracing the edge of my night trousers.
Okay, what do I do now? I glanced down, exploring my options.
Suddenly, Miles hummed with a soft yawn; his palm, as if aware of my escape plan, snaked around my back.
The next thing I knew, he pulled me closer, caging me in his arms. The scent of his hair filled my nostrils.
Oh, God, this is not happening . I squeezed my eyes shut.
Miles pressed his soft lips against the side of my throat, murmuring, “I hope you weren’t going to sneak out on me?”
A blush crept up my neck. “Um, actually, I was.”
“Dammit,” he purred in a low ramble, then laughed, “I knew I should have chained you to my bed.”
“What?” I let out a chuckle, my eyes wide.
“You are—oh—” I suddenly gasped, forgetting the word when he grabbed me and rolled me on top of him, his hands at the small of my back, slowly sliding down my hips.
“—crazy,” I muttered, letting another chuckle escape me and, oh, boy , pretending there was absolutely nothing pressing against my thighs.
Miles smiled at me. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah,” I nodded.
“Hmm.” He smirked. “Left you for one second just to find you sprawled on a bed, snoring like my Uncle Ben.”
“What?” I gasped, bursting into laughter. “I did not! I do not snore!”
“Well, that’s not what I heard yesterday. I swear, it took me a while to muster the courage to actually approach you.”
“Ugh! Shut up! That clearly wasn’t me!” I quipped. “Maybe, um, that was your ghost, Candice.”
“Alright, alright,” he drawled, “maybe that was her.”
A moment of silence fell between us. God, why was he looking at me…
like that? His gaze stayed on me, then slowly travelled down my lips, and…
What the hell , I thought, I’m already here.
Unexpectedly, I lowered myself, eyes drifting shut as I neared my mouth to his.
I kissed him. All at once, Miles groaned, his hands cradled my face, swiftly running to the back of my head.
He breathed into me, our tongues gently caressing each other.
Maybe sleeping in his bed wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
His palm slid to the back of my neck, fingers curling around my nape, pressing me closer.
His jaw shifted, mouth opening wider to senselessly devour mine as if he couldn’t get enough.
He gripped my hips to straddle him; one hand snaked under my shirt, cupping the swell of my breasts, rubbing his thumb across my nipples.
“I really, really ,” he muttered between our breaths, “want to fuck you.”
“Yeah,” I managed, grinding against his erection. “That…that would be nice.” Oh, that would be so, so fucking nice.
Then he sat up straight, impatiently stripping the shirt off me. Well, within seconds all our clothes were scattered across the floor.
My palms flat on his chest, I pushed him back against the pillows. A cold silk sheet tangled around us, a piece of ripped foil still between his teeth as he reached for my hips, pulling me closer, my thighs spread wide against his cock. Playfully, I teased him, gyrating with my body.
“Fuck!” he sputtered with a groan, his fingers digging into my skin. “This is going to be the end of me, Florence!” His eyes darkened with desire as he bit his lip.
“I’m sure you’ll be just fine,” I murmured.
“If I don’t survive…this…” he breathed, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Tell my Uncle Ben that I…well, actually, forget it, I never really loved him anyway.”
“Miles?” I laughed. “Why are we talking about your uncle at a time like this?” I glanced down at our naked bodies pressed together.
His gaze dipped to my mouth, then lower, roaming over my breasts. Then trailed further down. “Sorry.” He shook his head. “My bad!” Then he grinned, his voice a deep rumble. “Please, do go on.”
“Fuck! Florence!” He growled the moment he pushed inside me; his gaze lowered, watching me take him in as I slowly rocked my hips, grinding my clit against him.
“Just like that…” he breathed again. His eyes travelled up to meet mine, his teeth sinking deep into his lip.
“You do it…so well,” he murmured. “Do not…stop…”
“Yes,” I let out a soft moan, the hill of my palm pressed tight on his chest, feeling his flexed muscles beneath my fingers. I rhythmically moved against his thrusts. “Oh, trust me, I wasn’t planning to.”
God…it felt so good. So utterly… Dammit , I suddenly lost the words in my entire vocabulary. But this much I knew: the next five nights I would be spending here, tangled up in these exact sheets.
“Fuck! I love…this.” Miles quietly hummed, his head rolling way back, his grey eyes darkened, involuntarily drifting shut. I could bet he had an exact thought in mind.
“My God!” I suddenly cried as he gripped my waist, pushing harder inside me.
My lips parted with another breathless gasp; my hands held tight onto his shoulders as I rolled my hips, moving faster on top of him, sliding up and down his cock.
“Miles!” His name tore from the back of my throat.
“You feel so…” I couldn’t think straight, or hold back anymore, I wanted to lose myself in the moment.
And I did. I fucked him. Senselessly. God, who even was I?
“Florence,” Miles groaned, biting harder on his lip. Catching hold of my hands, he locked our fingers together, our fists clenched tight against his chest.
“Yes,” I whimpered breathlessly, trying to take a gulp of air. “This is…impossible,” I gasped, my body uncontrollably arching in response.
“Florence, I…slow down!”
“Almost…there.” I let out a breath. “Almost…”
And then, the world dissolved, and I shattered into a million pieces as pleasure consumed me whole. “Miles,” a sudden, strangled cry erupted from me, the delicious warmth slowly spreading across my body, my own eyelids momentarily fluttering closed.
***
Now perhaps I could find out more about that Uncle Ben, but Miles spoke first.
“You know that from now on you are sleeping in my bed, right?” he chuckled, his fingers gently brushing over my shoulders, slowly tracing their path down my spine.
“Oh,” I murmured, still trying to catch my breath, “that I know.” I propped my chin on his chest, glancing at him with a small grin. “How lucky we are, there aren’t any other bedrooms around us.”
“Yeah, very, very lucky,” he smirked. Then, suddenly, he rolled on top of me.
I giggled. “What are you—hmm?” I hummed as he kissed me. His palms slowly slid into mine. “Miles,” I breathed as he locked our fingers together, then pressed my hands above my head.
I kissed him back, my lips drinking him in gently.
“Wait!” I immediately tensed. “Did you hear that? There is someone…”
“…you know Candice is not actually real, right?” He smirked at me. “I only made her up for you to…”
“No!” I gestured for quiet. It was that one loose floorboard in the hallway that always squeaked if you stepped on it. “Someone is at the door.”
There wasn’t anyone in the corridor when Miles got up to check, but that just reminded me that we had to be more careful.
“What, not gonna even let me get you breakfast in bed?”
“Funny.” I rolled my eyes, though, my mind already picturing him making me a juicy bacon salad sandwich. Wearing nothing but an apron. Well, not in this kitchen, for sure.
“Oh, come on, Florence. Stay?” He glanced at me frantically putting my clothes on. “It’s not even seven, everyone is still asleep.”
“Not everyone.” I nodded at the door. “Clearly. And—” I looked up as I spoke. “—please, cover yourself.”
“Fine,” he drawled.
“Thanks!” I quickly buttoned my shirt.
“Covered,” he mumbled. I finally turned to glance at him.
“Miles!!!” He wasn’t. A wide grin plastered across his face. “God!” A blush crept up my cheeks. “See you at breakfast.”