Chapter 9 – Miles
NINE
MILES
My hands move over her smooth skin, reaching up to cup one of her full breasts, and a throaty moan falls from her lips as I pinch a rosy nipple, then lean to capture it between my lips, sucking hard.
Her back arches as I do, before she eagerly reaches between us, her hand wrapping around my cock and pumping once, then again before sliding the head along her wet slit. I groan at the heavenly feeling, and she lets out a light, tinkling laugh, always happy to enjoy my misery before she notches the head inside her.
She pauses, straddling me, barely an inch of my cock inside her. Eager to slide in, I lift my hips to slide inside her more, but she smiles wide, shaking her head. Then she moves to her knees, pushing her long blonde curls over her shoulder and smiling down at me.
“Why are you teasing me?” I groan, watching my cock sink another inch inside her.
She lets out a breathy laugh, her eyes fluttering with her own restraint.
“It’s what I do,” she says, and she’s not wrong. She has always teased me, and this is no different. She lifts her hips up an inch, then sinks down, slowly fucking the tip. Her breathing grows shallow as she continues to fuck me but not nearly enough to satisfy me.
“Claire,” I groan through gritted teeth.
She beams down at me, teasing, and I’ve had it. Both of my hands go to her waist, and I slam her hips down until she’s filled before I roll us both so she’s on her back.
“Miles,” she whispers.
“Now we’re doing this my way,” I say and start to fuck her, hard and fast.
“Miles,” she moans, her hips lifting to meet mine. “Fuck, it’s so good.”
“I know, baby,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m going to fill you.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she moans. “Please.” And who am I to not give her what she asks for so nicely?
BUZZZ !
My head shifts in the direction of my bedside table at the noise, but her hand moves up, gripping my chin and moving it to look at her once more. I dip my head, pressing my lips to hers, the pleasure building as I thrust into her. Her hair lies on the pillow like a halo around her, her lips swollen, and I feel my balls start to tighten again.
BUZZZ !
I jolt awake with my cock throbbing and my bed empty, the sun starting to peek in through the blinds. I slam my hand on my alarm before I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling for a few long beats before I realize what just happened.
I was having a wet dream about Claire fucking Donovan.
Unfortunately, it isn’t the first time, though they seem to be getting more and more vivid, which is definitely a problem.
Grant is right: I need to get laid.
My dick throbs in agreement.
It’s her incessant flirting, her need to get under my skin, that has me reacting like this, I tell myself. That and my long-standing dry spell. That’s all.
My mind is still reeling when my phone beeps with a message, charging on the other side of the room. I mentally go through all the people it could be: Grant texting to continue to give me shit, someone canceling a surf lesson, or maybe someone needing a last-minute repair from the shop.
When I check my messages, I’m shocked to see a text from the lawyer I currently communicate with Paul through.
I attempted to contact your brother’s attorney about doubling the amount sent as a compromise but have not heard anything back as of this morning. I would suggest against sending the increased amount until we have it in writing that he agrees to increase payments to hold off on the full settlement.
I let out an irritated sigh, realizing tomorrow is the tenth, when we typically send out his payment. I’d already planned to send double the amount, but now I’ll have to log into my bank account and change that before it processes.
With a groan, I move toward the closet, glad that the frustration at the very least deflated my hard-on, and reach for a pair of running shorts, hoping a run will put me in a better mood.
Unfortunately, even after I run four miles, I’m still wavering between being annoyed at my brother and being frustrated by my subconscious thoughts of my new tenant. I’m walking on the boardwalk to cool down, my house in sight as I scroll through my emails and appointments for the day, when my day gets worse.
“Great day for a run,” a voice says, and when I look up, I see the one person with the ability to irritate me more than Paul.
“Yeah,” I grumble to Brad Baker, putting my head down as I do. I’m already in a shit mood this morning, and the last thing I need is this fucker making it worse.
“Oh, why so brusque? Can’t you greet your neighbor?” He moves into my path, and I fight the urge to do something really fucking stupid.
Brad Baker is my neighbor only in the sense that he is currently managing Surf since his daddy owns the company that bought the properties the giant building now sits on, and let his spoiled son take over when it was built. Baker Inc. has been offering to buy my house since before my grandmother passed. On the day of my grandmother’s funeral , Brad had the balls to come to my mother’s house to ask about purchasing the home.
They bought up five consecutive properties above market value on the boardwalk directly next to my house, tearing down homes that had been there for decades to create the eyesore that is Surf. I know it really pisses off Brad they didn’t get my property so he could expand it all the way since there’s an empty lot on the opposite side of my house.
“Fuck off,” I grumble.
“You still holding tight to this place?” Brad asks, hands in his pockets.
He looks like such a pompous asshole, and I wish I could punch him in the face. Unfortunately, I am also wildly aware that if I did, he would sue me until kingdom come.
“Not selling,” I say simply, the way I have countless times before, trying to move past him, but he steps aside, blocking me again. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath because this morning is already enough to put my emotions on edge, and now I have this fucker in my way.
“Look, we’re willing to up our offer,” he says as if he’s doing me a huge favor and I should be grateful.
“Not interested,” I say, then step to the side to move around him. Unfortunately, he takes the same step, stopping me once again.
Punching him would be a horrible idea.
Reasonably, I know that. He has more money than God and the mentality of a privileged fuck who has always gotten his way: punching him would be certain bankruptcy, at best. So, instead, I take a deep breath to try and center myself before, once again, stepping to the side. He doesn’t mimic me this time, and with relief, I walk past him.
“Is your brother on the same page as you?” he asks to my back.
My steps falter, then stop. Slowly, I turn, looking over my shoulder at him, a shit-eating grin I seriously want to knock off his lips.
“Excuse me?”
“You co-own the property with your brother, right? That’s what the word around town is. He isn’t on the title, but town gossip is usually more reliable anyway.”
He’s looking into the details of the house.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“That’s none of your business,” I say as calmly as I can muster.
His head tips to the side with an arrogant smirk. “It could be,” he says, and I start to walk again, realizing he’s fucking with me and I’m giving him exactly what he wants. “I’m just saying, I wonder what your brother would think about my offer, you know?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I say as I continue to walk toward my house, my mind calculating the amount in my savings and anything else I could possibly sell. Even if I cleared it out, I’d be short, and if, God forbid, some incident happened, I’d be fucked.
I need to keep hustling, or there’s a good shot I’m going to lose everything.
It’s the reminder I need that I have no time, room, or energy for distractions, and this summer has to be nothing but working and trying to make the money I need to buy my brother out before I get fucked.