Chapter 20 - Miles #2
“But I wouldn’t have even mentioned that it’s your responsibility to help her with something like that to most of the dads of the kids I’ve directed. Or known. My own dad is a good guy, but my parents divorced when I was seven. There was no shared custody. It was just my mom and me after that.
“My dad remarried when I was nine, and had three more kids. My mom got me started with modeling when I was eight. So when I started making more money than both of my parents, he stopped paying child support and I stopped seeing him much at all. Mostly because I was on set a lot and he didn’t feel comfortable visiting me there.
” She waves her hand dismissively, but I can tell she doesn’t usually talk about this.
“Anyway. He’s a good guy. But he wasn’t a great dad.
You are. So I appreciate what you do for Macy.
I wasn’t telling you how to raise your child, and I wouldn’t do that.
It’s not my place. But I will always tell you what my boundaries and expectations are when it comes to my work.
It may just be a children’s musical to you, but this is my career. ”
God dammit, why did she have to say all the right things?
My hands have been itching to reach out to her ever since she started talking about her dad, and I finally let them. I grasp her shoulders. She inches closer to me.
“It’s not just a children’s musical to me. I think it’s a great project, and I’m really proud of you. I don’t want my daughter to be embarrassed in public, but it’s her thing to deal with. You’re right… Those are two words that I’ve never said out loud to anyone before, by the way. So enjoy that.”
She smiles, but it’s a sad smile. A headshaking, what am I going to do with you smile. She reaches up to touch my face, and I crumble.
I can’t seem to stop myself from saying, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you either.”
I slide my hands up to her neck, cradling her head, pulling her to me.
There’s affection here, but I kiss her hard.
Angrily, because I’ve missed kissing her and that doesn’t make sense.
I have never been so hungry for a person before.
I don’t like that my field of vision narrows down to her and only her whenever she’s around.
I don’t like this raw emotion. I don’t like feeling out of control.
I don’t like this bottomless pit of need she’s uncovered.
But I like her so much that I just don’t care anymore.
She clutches the lapels of my shirt collar, returning my kiss even harder.
She bites my lower lip and then sucks on it, directing me into a more gentle kiss, telling me exactly what I need to know.
This is just as hard for her as it is for me, but she will soothe me whenever it hurts. As long as I do the same.
I lower my hands to her hips and kiss my way down her neck, back up to her earlobe.
Aria’s sense of urgency has returned. She’s straddling my thigh, grinding down and rocking back and forth against it.
I can feel how wet she is, even through the fabric of my pant leg.
She unbuckles my belt and unzips me with ease, slipping her hand down past the elastic waistband of my boxer briefs, moaning when she feels how hard I am for her.
I let her stroke my shaft a few times before maneuvering her around and bending her over the hood of her car.
She flips the skirt of her dress up for me as I pull her panties down, and we both cry out when I push inside of her.
That warm, welcoming pussy. I know how it tastes and I know how it feels and I know I’ll never get enough of it.
I grip Aria’s waist tight with one hand, grab on to her ponytail, and twist it around my fist. She gasps and presses down into the palms of her hands, pushing herself up from the hood of the car, pushing herself back into me as I ram into her.
I don’t know if this garage is soundproof, and I don’t care.
Our insane, heavy, staccato breaths echo around the room, chased by the sound of skin slapping against skin, grunts and groans.
She lowers herself forward again, squeezes around me.
It feels so good, I slap her ass. She shivers and squeezes again.
I am wild about this woman.
She’s been saying my name and God’s, over and over.
I can’t hold on. I can’t recite that crazy fucking poem, and I can’t remember my phone number.
I come inside her, so hard and long, I see stars.
Releasing everything inside of her. I would come all over her if I could.
I want everything that’s inside of me to be inside of her, and on her, and a part of her.
I’ve had this feeling before, but it’s so much more intense with Aria. All of it. I don’t know what it means, but every single thing I feel and think and want is more intense with her.
Everything is dark and spinning. I collapse onto her back, empty and spent and satisfied. I slip my hand under her cheek so it isn’t pressed against the metal of the hood, and we stay like that until I can distinguish one breath from another, my heartbeats from hers.
Aw fuck is all I can think. I’m falling so hard.
When I have the strength to lift myself up off of her, pulling out of her, she says, “Hang on,” and then turns onto her back so she can face me. “I want to feel the weight of you on me a little longer.”
It can’t be comfortable for her like this.
We should be on a bed. We should be in a hotel suite in Paris or on a beach.
But if this is what she wants, this is what she’ll get.
I lie on top of her, my arms curled under her neck and head.
I kiss her cheekbone, her temple, the cartilage of her ear. Whatever I can kiss of hers, I kiss.
She strokes my back, her legs wrapped around mine.
I smell jasmine, and I don’t know if it’s from my neighbor’s garden or Aria’s hair or neck, but it will always remind me of this.
Of Aria. Of a summer night. Of finally surrendering to this desperate need to have another person want me as much as I want her.
I can feel it when she’s had enough of my weight on her.
My pants are still down around my ankles.
I shuffle over to the paper towel dispenser on the wall and tear off a sheet, shuffling back to wipe myself from between her legs.
Then her feet find the floor and her flip-flops.
I clean myself up and toss the paper towel in the garbage bin.
We stand side-by-side, leaning against her car.
We both look around, fully realizing that we’re in my garage.
“You always bring me to the nicest places,” she says, laughing.
I should take her to the nicest restaurants.
I should take her to a resort on a tropical island.
Fly her to the moon. Find her the perfect wave.
I should take her anywhere she wants to go.
Now and anytime. But I have to make sure my daughter brushes and flosses her teeth before she goes to bed.
I have to make sure no one finds out about us yet.
Yet.
God dammit. “This is happening, isn’t it?” I whisper. “It’s a thing.”
She sighs. “Yeah. It feels like a thing. Do you want it to be a thing?”
“Yes.” I take her hand. “I want us to be a thing.” Also words I never thought I’d hear myself say out loud to another person.
“Good.” She squeezes my hand. “So do I. But we still have to be discreet. Around the rest of the cast and crew. Around Macy?” It’s a question.
“For now, yeah. I think.” Then I remember what Frankie had said on the phone and add, “What do you think? About Tyler. Are you okay with me not mentioning this to him?”
She doesn’t hesitate to say, “For now. I haven’t heard from him in a little while. But you’re going to have to deal with it at some point. There’s a fine line between us being discreet and me being your dirty little secret. I’ll let you know when it feels like we’ve crossed that line.”
This woman. Saying the stuff. “Okay.”
“Okay.” She pulls the elastic from her hair, letting those blonde waves fall around her shoulders.
I inhale deeply and then hold my breath.
“I should get back. I’m giving notes to my set designer.”
I nod, grab her, and kiss her one last time for tonight.
“When can I see you again?” I will ask her this every time we’re together, I know this.
I don’t even care what the answer is, I just need to know that I’ll see her again and again and again.
I need her to know that I want to. Even if it’s inconvenient. Even if it hurts.