34. Becca
Ichew on my lower lip, trying to read Miller’s expression. Spending the night with him is exactly what I want to do, and if we share a bed, we’re definitely going to need our privacy. I want to finish what we started in the tent.
But it’s been months, and all of our banter has been just… friendly. Maybe Miller is just being nice. Maybe he’s thinking we can cuddle as friends, or something.
I shrug, trying to look casual. “I don’t mind sharing. If that’s okay with you.”
“Sure. It’s cool. Follow me.” Miller motions for me to follow him as he guides me down the hallway.
He opens a door, and we descend the stairs to a finished basement. The main room has doors leading off of it, so it must be sectioned into a few rooms. I look around. There’s an exercise bike in one corner of the main room and a sofa that’s seen better days. One of the doors is open, giving me a glimpse of storage shelves.
Miller opens a different door and flips on a light. “Here it is. Fancy, huh?”
I step through the door and take it in. It’s sparse but cozy. A queen-sized bed with a plaid duvet takes up most of the space. The classic “dogs playing poker” picture is framed and hanging on one wall.
“Your selection or Lori’s?” I ask, pointing.
Miller grins. “She picked it out, but I love it.”
“It suits you.” Poker and some sass. It’s perfect for him, actually. I sniff the air. “It smells nice in here. I’m impressed. I thought your room would smell like old gym socks.”
“Hey, the smell in my cabin this summer was from the campers,” Miller protests, his eyes wide with mock indignation. “You should see my apartment. Or smell my apartment, whatever. It smells good, too. My mom’s been sending me scented candles since I left for college. I’m as obsessed as she is at this point.”
He points to a large candle that’s sitting on a slim dresser. I pick it up and take the lid off to smell. Cranberry and… orange maybe? It smells amazing. I check the label, making a mental note to get one of these for my place.
“So.” Miller pulls on the back of his neck. I’ve never seen him look nervous like this before. “The bathroom is in there.” He points at a door that’s cracked open. “And Mom said there’s extra stuff in there, so I guess try the drawers. Do you want a t-shirt or something to sleep in?”
“Do you have any that the goat didn’t eat?” I can’t help it.
He cracks a smile and relaxes the smallest bit. “Only a few. Here.” I step to the side as he pulls open a drawer. He rummages through the contents before holding up a ball of fabric that he tosses to me.
I hold it up in front of me. It’s his University of Scranton t-shirt, the one he wore nonstop this summer. I’m glad it survived Lucy. I resist the urge to sniff it. “Thanks. I’ll go change.”
Miller closes the dresser drawer and steps closer to me. “I’ve missed you, Becs.”
I clutch the fabric. “I’ve missed you, too,” I whisper.
He steps even closer, and I tilt my head back to see his face. This close, he seems even taller, broader.
Miller’s eyes fall to my lips. I dart my tongue out to trace them as his eyes darken. “God, Becs. I’ve-I’ve really fucking missed you.” He ducks his head and presses his lips to mine.
His touch is dizzying. One hand traces my hairline, sending zings of electricity through me, while the other wraps around my waist. He guides me backward a step at a time until my back is pressed up against the door, then he moves the hand from my waist and brings it to the other side of my face, cradling my face gently with both hands.
Our kiss goes on forever. When he stops kissing me and takes a step back, my lips feel swollen, and my breath comes in short pants. I’m holding onto his t-shirt like it’s keeping me afloat in this sea of sexual tension.
All I want is for him to take me to bed, to finally, finally relieve the ache that’s been nonstop since our night together at the Nature barn.
And one look at Miller’s face, his pupils dilated and one hand rubbing his jaw, tells me that I’m not the only one affected like this by the kiss. By this undeniable pull between us. But…
I swallow hard. “Can I, um…” How do I say this without being awkward? We’re in the middle of the steamiest moment we’ve ever had and I really need to pee.
This never happens in the movies.
Miller kisses the edge of my jaw. “What do you need?”
My face flames. “I, um… bathroom?” Oh, God. That came out worse than I was expecting.
He smiles with amusement as he kisses my lips, soft and chaste. “Why don’t you go slip into something more comfortable?”
Miller pulls back and winks at me as he points toward the bathroom door.
I close myself in the bathroom, leaning my back against the door to steady my breathing. After I take care of my pressing needs that brought our make-out session to a screeching halt, I stare at myself in the mirror, bringing his shirt to my nose and inhaling deeply as I replay the kiss.
It’s his scent, the one I’ve missed: woodsy and sharp with a hint of something sweet underneath. It brings me right back to our time sitting together on the swing, to the night we spent together on the camping trip.
Jesus, Becca. The guy is in the next room. You don’t need to fantasize.
I force my brain to function. If I stay in here too much longer, he’s going to send a search party. Or worse, think I’m in here doing something unmentionable, like shaving my legs or going number two. You know, all the things women aren’t supposed to do.
I fold the clothes I was wearing into a neat pile and pull the soft cotton of his t-shirt over my head. The shirt falls to my mid-thigh as the material brushes against my peaked nipples.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. It’s supposed to activate your parasympathetic nervous system and calm you, but there’s no slowing my rapid heartrate. It’s all I can do to go through the motions of brushing my teeth and washing my face, knowing that Miller is waiting.
Miller’s mom wasn’t joking when she said she stocked the bathroom, by the way. I doubt Miller’s responsible for all of this.
One of the drawers is practically overflowing with travel-size items. Toothbrushes and toothpaste, of course, but there’s also face wash—nice face wash—shampoo, conditioner, a face mask, hand lotion, moisturizer. A woman was definitely involved in this part.
And there’s also a box of condoms, sitting next to three different flavors of lube, and from the way everything is tucked neatly into little drawer dividers, this seems like Lori’s work, too.
Yeah, Miller’s mom is the polar opposite of my parents.
I pull the little tubes out of the drawer to examine them closer. Sugar cookie, banana cream, and strawberry.
I shove the banana one in the back of the drawer with a shudder. I’m not entirely sold on the idea of putting flavored stuff in that region in the first place, but more importantly, I hate artificial banana flavor.
The idea of banana cream-flavored lubricant does bring up interesting philosophical questions, though. Like, what if you used it for a blowjob? Would it be like eating a real banana? Has anyone ever gotten so into the banana-flavored cock sucking that they took a bite by accident?
“You good in there?”
Miller’s voice startles me from my banana musings, making me slam the drawer so fast the sound reverberates in the small space.
“Uh. Yeah. I’m good.” Don’t mention the lube. Do not mention bananas. For the love of God, do not mention bananas and lubricant together. “This place is, uh, well-stocked. I’ll be out in a minute.”
* * *
“Jesus, Mom,” Miller groans from inside the bathroom as I settle under the covers.
He must have found the lube.
“My mother is insane,” he says when he emerges from the bathroom. He’s in plaid boxers and a dark green Camp Winnie t-shirt.
“You didn’t stock that drawer yourself?” After much reflection while Miller did whatever guys do in the bathroom, I’ve decided that making a joke is better than ignoring the elephant in the room.
Or the banana in the room, as it were.
“I would have picked different flavors.” Miller gives me a wink.
I’m curious which flavors he’d choose, honestly. I can’t stop my gaze from dropping to the front of his boxers as I think of the intended use of those products.
I swallow. There’s an obvious sizable bulge.
My face flushes, thinking of the first week of camp when he “rescued” me from drowning, pressing his crotch up against my ass in the process. About his body pressing me into the door just a few minutes ago.
He was hard then, there’s no question, but in jeans his size wasn’t so… obvious.
He flicks off the light beside the bed. “Need anything?”
You.“I’m good,” I manage to get out.
Miller slides under the covers. He settles on his side and props his head on his hand, just like he did when we were in the tent.
But this time, there aren’t campers sleeping ten feet away.
“I’m glad you came over.”
“Me, too,” I say, turning onto my side to look at him. “I like your family.” The covers bunch the t-shirt so it’s barely covering my hips.
“Yeah,” he says. In the dim light, I can barely make out the curves of his face. “I can’t believe you’re really here, Becs.” He reaches out and brushes a piece of hair out of my face. “It’s been too long.”
His touch is electric, and everything we ignited with that kiss bursts into flames inside me. “I’ve missed you, too,” I whisper.
Then he’s above me, knees on either side of my hips, arms framing my head as he holds himself up. He captures my already swollen lips with his and kisses me, soft and slow at first, then harder, more insistent.
I moan into his mouth, my hips lifting toward him.
Miller pulls back, settling on his knees. He grips the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head, tossing it to the floor. He studies my face as his fingers brush the hem of my shirt, dragging it slowly up my body.
When he pulls it over my breasts, there’s a sharp intake of breath. “Fuck, Becs.” He pulls the shirt up over my head, biting his lip. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
My nipples harden even further in the cool air of the room.
Miller lowers his head, and I think he’s going to kiss me again, but then he brings his mouth to my breast and sucks my nipple into his mouth.
My hips jerk at the sensation as electricity zings through me. He stays there, licking and sucking and biting until I practically come from just that, and then switches to the other nipple.
When he finally lifts his head, my entire body is so tight I’m about to snap.
“I could spend all night worshipping your body, Becs,” he says huskily.
I’m not used to getting compliments about my body. I’m more round than skinny, and while I have decently-sized boobs, I’ve always been self-conscious of the roundness of my tummy, the size of my hips. But when Miller looks at me, I feel gorgeous.
He shifts above me, his fingers hooking in the elastic of my underwear. My heart beats faster as he pulls them down and then all the way off.
I keep waiting for a flash of disappointment to cross his face, some indicator that this is a mistake, but his expression just grows more reverent. When he settles himself between my legs, he’s removed his boxers.
I swallow hard as I take in the sight of him. Yeah, he’s as big as I thought from the bulge in his boxers. “Um. Miller.”
His brows crease. “Yeah, baby? You okay?”
I nod. “I just… it’s been a while.”
I’m studying to be a doctor, so I know you obviously don’t get revirginized or whatever rumor the high school kids started back when I was a teenager. But it almost feels that way. Or maybe it’s just that this time seems to hold a significance as much as my first time. And emotions aside, Miller isn’t small.
He leans down and kisses me. “Same, babe. I haven’t been with anyone since I met you.”
My situation isn’t exactly the same. “I…” My cheeks flush. “It’s been a couple years for me. So, um…”
His eyes darken with lust. “Two years?”
“Since my senior year of college,” I whisper. “So like… two years and a few months.”
Miller moves down, pressing my legs apart even further. “I’m going to take my time getting you ready then, Becs. Cause once I’m inside you, there’s no way I’m going to be able to go slow.”