22
Dax
Iwake upbefore Miles, his body still wrapped around mine, morning wood nestled nicely against my ass, his warm breath on my neck.
Last night was…different for us…for me, and I’m trying to work out what that means, what I want it to mean, and how scared I should be. Normal scared, or freaking-the-fuck-out scared?
Does Miles feel it too? He must be. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have shared the truth about the fire.
Thinking about the repercussions he faced pisses me the fuck off. Even though he copped to it, I can’t get over how bad everyone treated him afterward, how bad theystilltreat him. He’s prickly and keeps to himself, doesn’t open up easily, and sometimes rubs people the wrong way. These things made it easy for people to see him as a villain, and though I couldn’t have known any better, I hate that I didn’t push back more, even if only to remind everyone it was an accident.
Sure, I always tried to be decent to Miles, but I didn’t try to get to know him until recently. Last night he seemed so grateful, so awed simply because I believed him. I can’t imagine how that would feel—just needing someone to believe in you—and I vow to make sure I always believe in him. We all need someone in our corner, and I want to be that person for Miles, just like he was that person for me last night. We might show itin different ways—Miles with anger and aloofness, me with jokes and sexual innuendo—but we both need someone to be there for us, someone to make us feel less alone.
He moans behind me, a sleepy sound that tells me he’s waking up, his hold on me tightening for a moment, before loosening again.
I shift to face him, Miles’s eyes fluttering open, mysterious and unsure. “You’re a very good cuddler,” I tease.
His brows pinch together. “Take it back,” he jokes.
“Nope. It’s true. You’re cuddly as shit. I can’t remember the last time I slept so well. You could charge for these if you wanted.”
He rolls on top of me, my back pressed to the mattress. “You want me to cuddle with other people? But then, I guess we did only promise exclusive dick and ass.”
Something twinges in my chest, though he’s right. That’s all we promised, and I’m the one participating in the stupid auction tonight. Yes, it’s for a good cause, but I’ll be going on a date with someone…and Miles told me I should do it. He acted like it didn’t matter at all, so I shouldn’t be lying here feeling some kind of way over a joke I made about him charging for cuddling.
“I guess so,” I say, not liking the sound of my own voice. If Miles notices, he doesn’t show it. Clearly, I’m the only one being a fucking weirdo right now, and I need to get my shit together. “Didn’t you promise me some dick in ass, though?” I quirk a brow, and he grins.
“I did indeed. But I’ll make you wait for it until after breakfast.”
“What?” I complain as he climbs off me. My dick is hard and throbbing already, and seeing Miles’s sexy ass walk confidently away doesn’t help. “That’s not fair,” I whine, following him.
“What about me makes you think I’m fair?” he teases.
“Good point. You do like to torture me.”
“You like it when I torture you.”
He’s not wrong. “You’ve made a masochist out of me.”
“You made it easy,” he says with a smile.
We go into the bathroom together. I take a piss while Miles digs out a new toothbrush from under the sink and sets it down for me. We swap places, him going to the bathroom while I wash my hands and brush my teeth, and then he does the same afterward.
We joke around before heading back into his room, Miles tossing me a pair of shorts. It’s wild how we just…spend time together now, have fucking sleepovers, like this isn’t just what it is.
“Do you like pancakes?” Miles asks.
“That depends. Do you have chocolate chips to put in them?”
He frowns.
I flutter my lashes.
He shakes his head, then says, “I’m sure I do.”
“It’s fun to get my way. You make me wait for dick, and I’ll pester you all day.”
“You’re very good at it.”
