“You’re my responsible and boring older brother,” Wesley said. “They’re not going to say no.”
Lights flashed brighter against the curtains, but I ignored them on the off chance it was Miles. I didn’t want him to see me spying out the window like a love-struck teenager. My brain told me it wouldn’t be him anyway. They hadn’t been gone long enough and he wasn’t old and boring like me.
“When did you want to come?” I asked, knowing there was no way Wesley would let me out of the visit.
“Spring break,” he said quickly. “Maybe sooner.”
“Sooner?” I scoffed. “When is that?”
“The first week of April.”
“Fine.” I sat down on the couch and reached for the wine and the remote. Just as I settled in, a furious banging on my door startled me. Wine sloshed out over my hand and I cursed under my breath. I stood up, holding the phone between my ear and my shoulder, trying to shake the wine off my hand as I went to the door.
I pulled it open without checking, words catching in my throat when I recognized Miles on my porch. His hair was slightly askew, falling over his face. He licked his lips, watching me expectantly.
“I have to go,” I said to my brother. “We’ll talk soon.”
“Love you,” Wesley said, victory evident in his voice.
“Love you too.” I slid the phone down and disconnected the call, catching the heat that flared in Miles’s eyes.
“Am I interrupting?” he asked, jaw clenched.
“No.”
“Who was that?”
Maybe the silence from Miles hadn’t been as dismissive as I’d thought, because with him on my porch, his eyes flaming and his hands clenched at his sides, he appeared just as possessive as I felt. Just as possessive as I realized I wanted him to be.
“Does it matter?” I asked, stepping out of the way and gesturing for him to come inside. He stomped over the threshold, pushing the door closed behind him. He was showing his age and I wanted to admonish him for it, but there was something about the broody alpha act that was doing it for me in that moment.
“Just a question,” he grit out.
“You look like you’ve been out.” I gestured at his clothes before turning and heading into the kitchen. I still needed to wash the wine off my hand and it was quickly drying and getting sticky.
“I was.”
“Early night?”
He followed me into the kitchen, grabbing my waist and hauling me back against his chest before I could turn on the sink. My breath left my lungs in a rush, stalling in my throat as he dragged his hands over my ribs and then down my arms.
“There were places I’d rather be than out with Grayson,” he said.
“Oh?” I pulled away from him and reached for the sink, but he spun me, bringing our chests together and taking my wine-soaked hand in his. He raised my sticky, purple fingers to his lips, and without breaking eye contact, sucked the entire length of my first finger into his mouth. My lashes fluttered, my cock immediately recalling how good it had felt when he’d done the same to it on Friday night. “Like where?”
He sank his teeth into my knuckle, and I reached behind me to brace myself against the edge of the counter.
“Inside of you, for one.”
He took another finger into his mouth, gagging himself with my fingers and swirling his tongue around my knuckles. He refused to look away from me, even though I couldn’t dare bring my gaze back to his eyes. I let my head fall back, looking up to the ceiling instead until the fluorescent can lights blinded me.
“What…” Miles whispered, letting my first two fingers fall out of his mouth before taking the other two in. He paid them as much attention as he had the first, then pulled them out, smearing them across his face with a soft moan. “What are you doing to me?”
He licked my palm.
“What do you mean?” I rasped.
“Look at me.”
