Chapter 31 Miller - The House Meets the Mouse （Part 2）
Idon’t think I’ve ever walked so much in my fucking life.
I check my watch to see we just crossed twenty five thousand steps, and we’re still not in our hotel room yet. I stupidly thought once we made it back to where we dropped our luggage, our room would be a floor or two up. Turns out, it’s about three buildings down this walkway.
Is it common knowledge that a Disney trip requires miles of hoofing it? I didn’t get that memo.
Penelope is already passed out in her stroller.
The excitement of the day finally caught up to her as we were leaving Epcot after the fireworks.
Incredible show, by the way. Gwen tells me I’m not ready for the one back at the castle tomorrow night.
I thought they’d all be the same, but hey, what do I know?
“We’re right up here on the left!” Gwen calls out from a little ahead. A damn miracle. She’s effortlessly walking with two of our three suitcases, a pep still in her step.
After Gwen taps her watch to the Mickey head above the doorknob, she swings the door open, and I follow her in. When she flicks a lightswitch on I have to basically pick my jaw up off the floor.
“This is a hotel room?” I ask in shock. I look around at the full-sized kitchen and dining area that leads into a whole ass living room.
Sheer curtains cover the doors that lead to the balcony overlooking that lake we saw earlier.
Knowing I haven’t spotted a bed or a bathroom yet, I already know this is bigger than my first and second apartments.
“Well, technically, it’s called a one-bedroom villa.
” I feel my eyes bulge. “It sounds bougier than it is though!” Gwen adds, trying to lessen the stress of the amount of dollar signs I see floating around in my head.
“Remember that timeshare program my parents signed up for? Pays for itself at this point.”
“This is insane,” I breathe.
Gwen’s arms wrap around my waist from behind. “You deserve every bit of it. Come on, let's get our girl to bed.”
Our girl. Fuck if I could hear that every damn day.
I need to tell this woman I love her. And that I want to give her as many babies as she wants and let her plan a trip like this every year for the rest of our lives. She deserves to know the wait for our version of happily ever after is over. I’ll walk a million miles to see it happen.
I’ve known that for what feels like a while now, but I kept getting smacked in the face with the realization and the desperate need to tell her throughout our whole day today. It feels impossible to keep it in now.
We leave Penelope snoozing peacefully in the stroller while we bring down the queen sized murphy bed in the living room.
Gwen finds P’s stuffed cat and blanket in one of the bags and gets the covers untucked while clicking the TV off, but not before showing me the screen that reads Welcome Bozelli and Caswell Family with light piano music playing.
Once we get the little one situated—somehow we get the sleeping sack of potatoes out of her costume and into some actual pajamas—Gwen shows me our bedroom.
There’s a second TV, a king-sized bed, and a bathroom that has a giant ass tub along with a shower.
I’ve never experienced anything fancier in my life.
When Gwen shows me the second set of doors from our room that lead out to the balcony, I actually feel like I lose the ability to breathe.
You can hear the music piped in from all around and boats are floating in the lake.
Light reflects off the water from the other hotels and Magic Kingdom itself surrounding it.
“This is one of my favorite views. It’s not always guaranteed, but I put a note in about how special this trip was when I booked it, really hoping the stars would work in our favor. The wishing paid off,” Gwen explains.
Fireworks boom, and I try not to jump. We can see the top of the show from our view here. It’s a sign. This is it. It’s now or never.
I take Gwen’s hand but quickly drop it, in favor of pulling her closer to me from the back of her neck.
She looks up at me, and her eyes show the reflection of the fireworks.
I get caught up in how truly beautiful she is.
From her freckles that cover so much of her skin, to the way the pieces of hair in front of her face curl up in the humidity.
A soft variation of her perfect, and more importantly, genuine smile that has been plastered on her face for every second of the past twenty-four hours has me sucking in a breath to tell her—
“I love you.”
It’s exactly what I’m thinking, but it’s not my voice that says it.
“What?” I ask.
She doesn’t understand that I’ve never heard anyone say those three words to me aside from my daughter. Gwen doesn’t know that I gave up the hope of ever finding someone who feels that way about me a long fucking time ago.
“I love you, Miller. I love Penelope so much, sometimes it feels like she’s my own. I love Ladybug. I love this life. I’m still scared, but I want this. I want us.”
Bringing her mouth to mine, I pour every bit of who I am and how I feel into her. “I love you,” I pant. “She’s yours, we both are. I love you so much. This is it for me, Gwendolyn.”
She tugs at my hair and her tongue practically dances with mine. I hold her as tightly as I can, thinking about how I never plan on letting go. At the risk of being the world’s most insecure, broken piece of shit on the planet I ask, “Can you say it again?”
“I love you. I’ll tell you every day, multiple times a day. I love you, I love you,” Gwen reassures me over and over, without judgment. Because she’s Gwen.
I went from thinking I was incapable of receiving love to being completely engulfed in the feeling. There’s a fire blazing inside of me that is dying to get out.
Guiding us back inside, I poke my head into the living area to see Penelope sleeping like the dead before making my way to the bathroom to meet Gwen. She’s busy taking out her earrings in front of the mirror. I grab a condom from one of what seems like dozens of packing cubes Gwen brought.
I need to be inside her right now. I come up behind her and push her hair to one shoulder, peppering kisses and licks and nips up her neck while my hands explore the rest of her body. She sighs with content, leaning into me.
Gwen’s wearing one of those black athletic dresses that taunted me, swishing every fucking which way all Goddamn day.
I snap one of the straps, urging her to peel it off her body immediately.
I step back as she strips, and I pull my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor.
I drop my shorts and boxers and roll the condom on.
“Someone’s eager,” she teases. But I’m not really in the teasing mood.
“Drop your panties, Gwendolyn.”
“Yes, sir,” she says in a surprised but low voice.
“Hands on the counter.”
I watch Gwen shiver as she does exactly as she’s told.
A couple of nights ago, she admitted that as much as she normally loves to be in charge in her everyday life, sometimes she wants someone else to call the shots.
She wants to try letting someone else take control, especially in the bedroom.
Now seems like a good time to make that happen.
I rub a smooth circle with one hand around her asscheek while Gwen waits so patiently for my next move. The yelp she lets out when my palm smacks against it shoots right to my fucking cock.
“Oh my God, again. Please,” she pants.
“Since you asked so nicely.” Smack.
Her head falls forward, and she wiggles her backside at me. “Where’s my sweet Miller?”
“Here. Always here,” I correct her, massaging her. “But I really need to fuck you right now, and there’s nothing sweet about the way I want it.”
When Gwen lifts her gaze, and I see the heat and love in her eyes that I’m sure as shit matches my own, I slide my fingers between her thighs—her breath hitches—and find she’s already wet.
“Yesss,” she hisses, head falling again when I find her clit. I play with her, working her all the fucking way up. I want her needy and desperate. I want to plow into her until I have to cover her mouth with my hand to stifle her screams.
I grip the base of my cock and glide it through her wetness, coating myself. When I notch my tip inside her, she wiggles again, trying to pull me in.
“Not so fast, Gwennie girl.” I gather her hair into my fist and pull until she faces me in her reflection again. “I want you to watch this.” I slowly thrust, feeling her pussy clench around every inch of my cock as I enter her. “I want you to see how fucking perfect you look when I’m inside you.”
She whimpers and rocks back into me. I keep the hand wrapped with her hair right where it is, and the other grips her hip, letting me control the pace. I’m relentless, not letting up as I watch her heavy breasts bounce in the mirror.
“Look at you. Look at us,” I manage to get out in between rocking into her.
Gwen’s hands slip on the granite, inching her forward. She moans, and it fills the room.
I slow, rubbing a hand up and down her back gently. “You have to keep quiet, Gwennie. Can you do that?”
She nods enthusiastically with softer moans this time. “I want it hard, though. I’ll be good. I promise.”
“You’re always good, Gwen. Such a good girl. Let me take care of you.”
I get lost in her, like I always do. I watch her breasts bounce in the mirror, and when she chances taking a hand off the counter to toy with one of her piercings, I lose the ability to contain myself.
“You like getting fucked like this?” I ask gruffly.
Her smile looks like pure bliss. “I love it. I love you.”
“Again.”
“I love you,” Gwen says with a cry, and her muscles flexing triggers my own release. I don’t pull out, letting myself pump into her.
I let go of her hair and fold over her, whispering how much I love her into her skin.
After we clean up and get situated in bed, Gwen’s head comfortably on my chest and listening to the TV’s default channel’s music on a low volume, I finally work up the courage to address the tiny elephant in the room.
“So, you got called Penelope’s mom today…” I start.
Her fingers stop their swirling on my stomach. “Mhm.”
“Kinda need a little more than that, Gwen.”
She sits up abruptly, folding her legs in so she’s sitting criss-cross next to me.
“I have to tell you something.” She takes a deep breath, and I hold mine, having absolutely no clue where she’s heading with this.
“P told me a few weeks ago she thinks of me like her mom, and I’ve been ridden with guilt since. ”
“Why?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“Because I should have told you immediately. She’s your daughter.
I’m not—I mean, I get what she’s saying.
Sometimes I forget myself. Actually, it’s most of the time, if I’m being honest. I love every second with her.
But…I’m just Gwen. Shit, you still insisted she add a Miss to my name until fairly recently.
I’m the fun friend who has kind of attached herself to you guys. ”
“Baby…” I reach out for her, pulling her back into my chest, running my hand through her hair.
“I don’t want to be some fill in.” It sounds like an admission.
“You don’t get it, so let me try to help. There wasn’t an open position. I wasn’t interviewing for Penelope’s Mom. P and I were perfectly fine as just the two of us. But, then you blew into our lives and changed every version of our future.
“Now, that’s not to say you don’t have a say in this.
There never has to be a title put on things if that’s what makes you comfortable.
If you hate the idea of marriage and only want to be P’s fun friend, Gwen, Red, I don’t care, and neither would she.
I’ll have to sit her down and talk to her, obviously, but, we’re just asking to be a part of your life.
We can have days just like this. We can be happy.
I’m telling you, I’ll take whatever I can get. ”
“I don’t want that,” she whispers, and it feels like the wind just got knocked out of me.
“Oh.”
Gwen swings her leg across me and lifts herself up so she’s straddling me.
She shakes her head. “Miller, I love you. I don’t want you to only take scraps of that.
You’re worth more than that. God, we both lived our whole lives thinking we weren’t worthy of great love, and now that it’s here, we’re both too scared to accept it.
You’re offering me everything I’ve ever wanted and I’m trying to argue my way out of it for fucking what? This has to be the dumbest fight ever.”
“We’re fighting?” I ask.
“Yeah, but with ourselves and our dumbass brains. We’re overtired. Today was a huge deal. Come on, let’s go to bed.” She leans over and kisses me long enough that I accept the conversation is over for now.
We’re on the same page, but we’re not. I’m done with the back and forth and dancing around how we feel, dipping our toes into the commitment and getting scared. I’m willing to fight for this and risk it all. I just need to know Gwen is too.