I don’t know how we got here. I don’t know how I went from wanting
to rip his head off at that party a few months ago to be in a bar, in Palm Springs, on New Year’s Eve with Miles Davis. The strangest part isn’t that I don’t know, it’s that I don’t care.
For some reason, being here, in a crowded bar with Miles’ hand on my back doesn’t make me scream. It makes me want to melt into him. We don’t have to pretend here so is that why it feels so real?
The last week has been heaven. I know I should be training and preparing myself for comp season but I’m sure I can spare a week. I deserve a week. We’ve spent the past few days, eating, talking, travelling and doing more talking. I learnt a lot about him and myself being here than I have in the last four months of knowing him.
We have still tried to keep up with working out and using the gym in the hotel, but we stay for an hour at most before running back to the room or to the beach. It feels like nothing can touch us here. All the pressure, the stress, the grief. It feels like the world is at our fingertips. Or maybe I’m just starting to feel the shots we took earlier.
It’s half an hour until midnight and we’re standing at a bar, trying to speak over the loud music that’s reverberating off the walls.
“What was that?” Miles basically shouts in my ear, his hand on my waist, leaning his face to mine.
“I said that I’m going to stop with being strict on drinking,” I shout back to him. A crooked grin splits across his face.
“Really? That’s your New Year’s resolution?”
“Yeah. I kind of like how it feels now. I feel like I’m floating,” I say. “You’ve had, like, two shots, Wren. I hate to be the one to break it to
you but you’re a lightweight.”
“I’m not!” I shout, pushing him gently in the chest.
“I put some water in your bag. Drink some, please. Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” Miles asks, moving me with him as we walk around the room. If I could form real thoughts, I would thank him for being so responsible. For taking care of me. He searches around for a way out.
“Does such a place even exist?” I ask.
“There’s a small room over there.” Miles points down a corridor with brighter lights than the dark ones in the main bar. I stand still, not willing to go down the sketchy hallway. He turns around and looks at me, puzzled.
“I think that’s where all the orgies and murders happen,” I say, shuddering.
“There’s only one way to find out, Wrenny,” he smiles. “I got you.”
But as we start walking someone shouts his name. He looks back at me, thinking it was me who called him. I shake my head and shrug.
“Miles!?” the shrill voice from behind us shouts again. We both turn this time. A dark-haired woman walks towards us in a bejewelled silver dress, and I instantly recognise her. My stomach tightens.
Miles has never been closed off about his ex-girlfriend, Emily Fraser. Mostly because she comes up a lot when he talks about Carter. She’s short- ish woman with dark brown hair that cuts off at her shoulders. She studies marine biology at Drayton so she’s smart and gorgeous. She’s the opposite of me and I can’t figure out of that’s a good thing or not. I take a little step back and Miles’ strong hand wraps around my waist, pulling me into his side.
“Oh my God, it is you!” she shrieks and before either of us can register, she pulls Miles into a hug, his hand slipping off me. As if I’m not there.
“It’s good to see you, Emily,” Miles says when she pulls away from him. His hand returns to me again. “This is Wren. My girlfriend.”
“So, I heard,” Emily says as she gives me a once over. Her fake smile doesn’t even reach her eyes. She turns back to Miles, ignoring my presence. “Are you staying in town for a bit?”
“Yeah, only until Monday. Our flights in the evening,” Miles explains. “Aw, that’s tomorrow. If I had known we could have hung out,” she
groans.
She comes closer to him, her hand resting on his chest. Okay. So, we’re doing this. Miles doesn’t look at her. In fact, he looks straight over her head. It doesn’t take a genius to know that she’s drunk and he’s too nice to tell her to do one.
“I miss you. I miss your body,” she whines and that’s where I draw the line. I grab her hand and push it off him and push her back gently.
“Hi, I’m sorry but I’m right fucking here. If you wanted to flirt with my boyfriend, you could have at least waited until I slipped away for a second,” I say, coming into her face.
The darkness of the bar and the LED lights have given me a lot more confidence than I should have. I’m lucky I just about tower over her in my stilettos or else I’d look ridiculous.
“Miles, can you tell your girlfriend to chill?” Emily scoffs. She blinks up at Miles, but he steps back away from her, pulling me into him again.
“No, she’s right,” Miles says, looking at me and then back to her. “You don’t have the right to say shit like that anymore.”
“I can say what I want,” she retorts, spluttering.
Miles groans, lowering his voice so only we can hear. “And Emily, you’re lucky I’m talking to you nicely because the last thing you deserve is nice. I don’t want to shout at you and cause a scene because I’m a decent human. So please, step back so me and my girlfriend can leave.”
She blinks at us and I want to laugh so badly.
“Happy fucking New Year,” I say to Emily before grabbing the cuffs of Miles’ shirt and getting us the hell out of there. I know it was a petty thing to say but it made my blood boil. Exes like that are not good for anybody. The kind of ones who want you back when you’ve moved on. That shit sucks.
We wait outside of the bar for a cab, not saying anything as we sit down on the sidewalk. There is something comforting about being around Miles
in this setting, watching cars drive past and drunken strangers howl behind us. He’s sitting next to me, sighing loudly as he throws his head back, probably as frustrated as I am.
“Thank you for doing that,” I say quietly. I don’t know how it came out but it’s New Year’s Eve and I’m feeling emotional.
“Doing what?” he asks, turning his head to me. “For not pretending I wasn’t there,” I reply.
“Why would I do that?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused. I shrug. “Have people done that to you before?”
“Not on purpose,” I admit. “I’ve always felt like I take up too much space because I do so many things that people find interesting. But, when I was with Augustus, it was like he was trying to compete with me. Like he wanted to make me feel small and insignificant. Sometimes, he’d just pretend I wasn’t there.”
The words fall out of my mouth at a stupid pace, spilling all my secrets like it’s nothing. It’s definitely the darkness. I don’t like oversharing this much but with Miles, it seems to easy.
What shocks me that he pulls me into a tight side hug, his strong arm tightening around me and I fall into him for a second. “I would never do that to you, Wren. Ever.”
Miles and I don’t hug. We kiss and we hold hands when people are around. But we never hug. It always feels too intimate. Like were crossing a line.
*
We go back to the hotel mostly in silence, walking past people as they go down to get ready for the countdown in the lounge. We go back to our room, standing outside on the balcony, watching the early fireworks that are being set off down the horizon. It’s not long before the new year’s about to start.
“That was hot,” Miles says nudging me with his shoulder as we lean against the railing, looking out into the darkness. I turn to him and laugh.
“You’re like a horny teenager. You think everything is hot,” I scoff.
“I am a horny teenager,” Miles challenges. Barely, I want to retort but instead I snort and he smirks, adding, “Only when you do it.”
“Someone needed to get her in line,” I murmur. He turns his body to me, his left arm resting on the railing. I mirror his position and I shudder as I say, “I hate that it made me so mad.”
“Can’t you just admit that you wanted to defend me? That you, not my fake girlfriend, but you wanted to defend me,” Miles says. His fiery expression catches me off guard as he closes the space between us.
“What are you talking about?” I breathe. Are we really doing this right now?
“Why can’t you just admit that you want me — like you said at Christmas? That you want me for real. Just as badly as I want you.”
“Miles,” I whisper, a half plea.
He steps closer towards me, our noses grazing each other, as his breath hitches. “Tell me, Wren. Does this feel fake to you?”
I don’t say anything. What could I say? Each day being around him, it gets harder and harder to deny the heavy want building inside me. That I’m
low-key annoyed that I didn’t bring my Christmas present with me. That the past few days have been the most fun I’ve had in my life. That being with him makes me better. Happy. Whole.
The countdown to new year’s begins outside.
Ten.
“Miles… I can’t want you. You know that.”
Seven.
“I’m not asking what you can and can’t do. I’m asking you what you feel. What do you want, Wren?”
Two.
“I want you,” I whisper. One. Fireworks explode beside us as he grabs my face and pulls me into him, catching my lips with his.
Something magical and indescribable happens when our lips meet. I gasp at the suddenness of the kiss, and he uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth. I can feel myself floating. As if we’re existing outside of this moment. Maybe it’s the alcohol I had earlier or the heat between my legs, but I feel myself slipping away.
He pushes my head back lightly, deepening kiss as I whimper into his mouth at the force of him. He’s not rough but it’s hard enough that it shocks me a little and makes the intensity in my lower stomach build. He tastes sweet. Like cinnamon.
When I realise my hands have fallen limp at my sides I reach up for the nape of his neck, curling my fingers into his hair. He guides us to the railing and pushes my back against it which is good so he can’t see the scars and
bruises that I’ve got n my back over the years. Too many training days gone wrong and too little time to explain that to him.
I come up for air, the wind blowing into my face as I tilt my head back. This time, I go back in gently, my teeth skimming his bottom lip. He smiles into the next kiss, even when his warm mouth touches mine, I can still feel him smiling.
God, we’re barley even kissing anymore as we just smile at each other like goofy high school kids and I love it. One of his hand’s snakes around my waist, pulling me into him, my dress getting caught in the wind. It’s then that I can feel how wet I am. How much it’s dripping between my thighs.
“Let’s go inside,” I pant when I can get a second to breathe. He responds by picking me up from the waist and wrapping my thighs around his middle.
While he carries me into the bedroom, I kiss at his neck, inhaling his cologne. He drops me down onto the edge of the bed, my dress pooling beside me. I quickly reach down and slip off my sandals as he unbuckles his belt. I lay back down, staring at the ceiling, waiting for whatever to happen to happen.
This is a good idea, right? We could do this, get it out of our systems and if this plan works, I’ll never have to see him again. No matter how bad I want to.
“Are we doing this?” Miles asks, kneeling down in front of me, basically reading my thoughts. I push up on my elbows and nod frantically,
panting. “Wren. It’s fucking great that you’re enthusiastic, but I need you to tell me with your words.”
“Yes. Yes. We’re doing this, Miles,” I say. Only he can make consent sound so hot. He pulls the material of my dress upwards, just exposing my thighs but he hesitates at the foot of the bed. “Do you need some help?”
He laughs, shaking his head before staring at me for a long moment. Without being able to process it, his hot mouth presses a kiss onto my thighs, making me squirm. He presses featherlight kisses along one thigh before moving to the next. It’s so slow. Drugging. One of his hands wrap behind the back of my thigh, tugging it around his chest while the other splays across my breast. On top of my dress unfortunately. He kisses up my thigh until he gets to where I want him the most, but he doesn’t go all the way. Instead, he makes his journey back down.
“Miles. If you’re not going to put your mouth where I want it, I’m going to deal with it myself,” I groan after he brings his mouth to the edge of my panties three times without doing anything. I look down to him, but I can only see his hair, his face buried deep into my thighs. That’s what I like to see.
“You’re very impatient,” he mumbles against my skin. “I’ve been waiting for this since I met you so I’m going to savour it.”
“How do you think I feel? My vibrator can only do so much,” I whine. He laughs into my thigh again, tickling me. He still doesn’t move anywhere near my panties. Finally, I stand up and he falls back onto his heels, looking up at me. “You’re taking too long.”
I reach behind me, struggling slightly, as I reach for my zip and drop my dress down to my ankles. His mouth falls open when he notices I’m not wearing a bra as I stand there in nothing but my pink panties. The cool chill of the wind hits me, and my nipples go hard. He’s still shell-shocked when I bend down and start to unbutton his shirt.
“I can do it myself,” he mumbles when he gets his voice back, blinking up at me.
“Can you?” I cock my head to the side with a smug grin and he hums.
He shrugs off his shirt and takes off his jeans, until we’re both stood there with nothing but our underwear. I take my time to memorise the curves of his tanned chest with my fingers, feeling him tense beneath me. I’m about to make a snarky comment but he brings his hands around my waist. The skin-to-skin contact makes all my nerves and senses sing. I step backwards slightly until the back of knees hit the bed.
“You’re so beautiful, Wren,” he whispers, and he presses an open mouthed kissed to my chest, just above my breast. I gasp at how light and tender the feeling is. “So, fucking, beautiful. I want to worship you.”
“Then do it if you’re not all mouth.” I smile but my voice turns into a yelp when he pushes me onto the bed. He climbs over me, looking at me with a sexy, evil smile. He kisses me on the lips gently once before slowly making his way down my body. His lips catch onto my nipple and a moan slips out of my mouth. He laughs against my stomach, and I dig my heel into his back as payback. His glorious journey down my body stops at the waistline of my panties.
He looks up at me, dead in the eyes, as he hooks his fingers into the sides and pulls them down. I wiggle slightly as he pulls them over my ankles. I close my eyes, but he doesn’t move. For a second, I think he’s moved off the bed, but I open my eyes and he’s just staring at my bare body in front of him.
“What? Is, uh, something wrong?” I ask, wearily.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone this close to my naked body. Augustus and I had sex before but even the foreplay was nowhere near as good as this. I never finished once with him. Well, to him he thinks I did but it turns out I’m just really good at faking it. Miles looks between my legs and then back up at me as he swallows.
“You’re soaking, Wren,” he says as if it isn’t obvious. “Are you going to do something about it?”
Before I can even get my words out, his fingers slip inside of me in one quick motion. My words turn into a moan at the sensation. I immediately roll over him to cause more friction as he pumps in and out of me faster.
“Fuck, Miles,” I scream when his tongue moves over my clit. The sounds that I can hear myself making mixed in with the slick sound of his fingers inside of me are obscene. But exhilarating. His mouth and his fingers move inside me in a practiced motion, as I squirm beneath him.
I grip onto the sheet, turning my head to muffle my cries into the pillow. I had a feeling that feeling him inside me would be insane, but I could never have imagined this. I can’t remember the last time I got this tuned on. Actually, I can. It was that night at his house when he asked me to kiss him.
“Such a good girl,” Miles murmurs into my skin, “So wet for me.”
Is this what dying feels like? I’m willing to let it happen. “Miles, I’m going to-”
Just as the words leave my mouth, his takes his fingers out of me, leaving me throbbing even more. I look down at him, my chest rising and falling. He keeps his eyes locked with mine as he puts his fingers in his mouth, a low sound coming from the back of his throat as he slowly drags them out. I can feel myself drowning at the sight of him.
He kneels off the bed and I sit up further to see what he’s doing. He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he slides down his boxers. I gulp when his dick springs free, dripping with pre-cum. Holy fuck. I scramble impatiently to the end of the bed at the same time he crawls onto it. I grab onto his shoulders and swing him down so he’s underneath me.
“What are you doing?” he laughs when I pin him down with my hands. Slowly, I drag my hands down his stomach until I get to where he’s straining. I circle my tongue around his tip before slowly slipping him into my mouth and then back out, staring into his green eyes. “Jesus, Wren.”
I use my hands to pump up and down his length, gaining more grunts of approval from him as I taste his saltiness. I fit more of him into my mouth, my eyes almost watering. He threads his fingers into my hair, his face pained with pleasure as he looks down at me.
I take him out of my mouth, dragging my tongue along his shaft. “Is this okay? I’ve not really done this before,” I admit.
He groans when I lower my mouth onto him again, gaining more of him. The grip he has on my hair tightens when I start to suck faster, feeling him deep in my throat.
“You’re perfect. Just like this. Fucking perfect,” he pants. He thrusts himself down my throat until I’m gagging on him, loving the way he feels and tastes.
“Fuck. I need to be inside of you.”
I don’t wait long before taking him out of my mouth and kissing up his abdomen until I reach his face. I kiss tenderly along his jaw, lifting his head slightly so I can whisper into his ear.
“Do you have a condom?” He nods his head and reaches down to get his jeans. “I was kind of hoping you’d say no. Did you plan on doing this before we got here?”
He gives me an evil grin when he sits back up in the bed, condom in hand. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me.”
I smother his words with a long kiss before sliding down him, taking the condom with me. I straddle his thighs as I open the wrapper. I take it out but and roll it onto him. I’m about to guide him into me but his hand covers mine.
“What’s going to happen after?” Miles asks, his voice wavering. “Nothing is going to happen.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re going to do this right now. We could do it a million times until our legs are numb but when we get back to Salt Lake we go back to pretending, okay? We need to make sure you’re in the season for good and that I can qualify for the championships. If whatever this is spills into what we’re pretending, it could end really badly,” I say in a hurry, desperate to get him inside of me.
“Would it? Or wouldn’t it be better? We wouldn’t have to pretend,” he asks quietly. I try to let myself think about that idea but it’s really fucking hard to think straight when his dick is inches away from me.
“Miles, can we not talk about this right now?” I ask, nodding to his erection. He nods and takes his hand off mine, slipping them around my waist. “I just want to…”
My words turn into a disgruntled moan when he slams me onto him in one quick motion as he fills me up. I brace my hands on his chest as I roll over him, my mouth hanging open as I pant. Once the first wave of pain settles down, I melt into him. It’s almost as if our bodies were made to be doing this with each other. We move in sync as he guides my hips around him moving in circles and forwards and backwards. His hands dig into my ass, and I gasp. It should be a crime for this to feel so good.
All the pent-up tension, the small touches, the stolen glances all led up to this exhilarating high that I never want to come down from.
He thrusts into me deeper, his pace quickening as he leans forward to fit my breast into his mouth. I moan his name louder than I’d like to admit. I don’t even recognise how whiney and desperate I sound. I greedily grab onto his hair, shoving his face deeper in between my breasts as his hips thrust forward into me while he whispers into my skin. You feel so good, baby.
If you keep talking, I’m going to finish right now, I whisper back. Good, he says. The high ripples through us at the same time as I clench around him, his name slipping out of my mouth. His thrusts become sloppier as his
orgasm soars through him, and he groans. Stars burst behind my eyes as I collapse on top of his chest.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to skate anymore if my legs don’t work,” I pant, propping myself up on my forearms on his chest. He laughs a little and kisses me on the forehead, our breathing still heavy.
When we settle down, I slip out of the bed to pee. To think. When I look in the mirror, I see a puffy faced Wren blinking back at me. I almost want to laugh at how insane this feels. I should be more concerned. After resisting him for so long, I finally succumbed.
This could be the start of something dangerous. Something all consuming. Something that we’ll both get attached to. A habit I won’t be able to kick. The distraction that I can’t afford. Before I can splash water on my face, Miles comes behind me in the mirror, his chin resting on my shoulder. I lean into him, smiling in the mirror. He brings his hand around my front, teasing my nipple.
“Round two?” he whispers into my skin. I nod enthusiastically.
*
I collapse beside him again onto my back for what feels like the
hundredth time. Only this time I can actually feel myself falling asleep. It’s well into the morning now and small slithers of sunlight are starting to peak through the windows.
I look over at Miles for a second, watching his heavy breathing subside. That’s when the weight of the day comes crashing down onto me. I knew that if we do it once, we wouldn’t want to stop. And we’ve done it at
least plenty of times in several different places. When we get back home, everything is going to be different. Everything will change. I roll over onto my side, my back facing him.
“Miles?” I whisper. He responds by wrapping his hand around my stomach, pulling me into him, his head nestled in my shoulder. “We really broke the rule this time. I’m scared.”
“I’m here.”
That’s it. Two words. A statement. A promise. A gift.
