Just a Bit Dirty (Straight Guys #10)(49)

Soon, Miles couldn’t muffle his moans anymore, small Ah, Ah, Ahs leaving his mouth at every downward movement. He knew he was too loud, he knew that the driver could likely hear his moans and the obscene slick sounds as their hips moved, seeking release. He didn’t care. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Ian’s fingers pressed hard against his perineum, and Miles saw stars, coming with a loud groan. He sagged against Ian like a rag doll, letting Ian thrust into him for a while until he felt Ian come deep inside him and go still.

It took Miles a while to regain his ability to think. When he did, he realized that the car wasn’t moving anymore—which meant that they had arrived, and the driver had definitely heard what they had been doing in the backseat. As if on cue, the driver’s door opened and closed, and then there was the sound of rapidly retreating steps.

A laugh, a little hysterical but full of amusement, left Miles’s lips. “Oh my god, I’ll never be able to look Zane in the eye. Why didn’t you tell me it was a bad idea?”

Ian snorted, his hands still resting in a rather proprietary manner on his ass. “I did. You all but bullied me into it.”

Grinning, Miles kissed his cheek. “Right. And you’re totally innocent. Your prick ended up in my bum totally by accident.”

Ian pinched his buttock. “Not by accident, but I’m not the one who was too horny to wait until we got home.”

Home.

Something in Miles’s stomach clenched at the word, his smile turning wistful.

Pulling back to look Ian in the eye, Miles said honestly, “I just missed you, I guess.”

The amusement faded from Ian’s eyes, his expression becoming almost tender. “Yes,” he said in a tight voice. “Liam missed you, too.”

Miles glared at him.

Ian smiled widely and then laughed, a full belly laugh that Miles had rarely ever heard from him.

Miles stared at him, his chest full and warm. So very warm.

Well, fuck.





Chapter 17


“No, Ian, no way!”

Miles was laughing, trying to yank the sheets up to cover his naked body, with limited success, since Ian was sitting on them.

“Be still,” Ian scolded him, his pencil flying over his sketchbook.

Miles groaned, making a face. “Come on, I must be a sight.” They’d just had sex, and he had bodily fluids, love bites and finger-shaped bruises all over him. “I look like a whore,” he complained.

Ian ignored him, as he often did when he was in a creative mood, his gaze completely focused on his sketch.

Miles couldn’t help but smile at him fondly. At moments like this, Ian reminded him of his son. Liam got insanely focused too when he was building something with his LEGO set.

His smile softened at the thought of Liam. In the week he had been gone, the boy had made very good progress. The child psychologist that Ian had picked to be Liam’s nanny really was a good choice. She had somehow managed to make Liam more friendly with his father. It made Miles a little jealous, to be honest, that she had succeeded where he had failed. He would have liked to be the one to bridge the gap between the father and the son, but mostly he felt relieved and happy—happy to see Ian so content and satisfied with the world.

You’ve got it so bad it isn’t even funny. You’re happy because he’s happy? Really now?

Miles tried to push the uncomfortable thought away.

“Don’t frown,” Ian said, his gaze flickering between Miles and his sketchbook.

Smiling, Miles rolled his eyes. “Yes, sir. As you wish.”

Ian’s hand paused.

He lifted his eyes back to Miles and stared at him.

Miles swallowed.

Ian set his sketchbook aside and rolled on top of him.

Looping his arms around his neck, Miles pulled Ian down until their mouths slotted together and everything else disappeared. God, this man. He would never get enough of him.

***

Miles had always been a morning person. He’d never understood people who could lounge in bed all morning. But in the past few weeks he had developed a new appreciation for late, lazy mornings. He’d come to realize that if one had someone one wanted to spend all the time in bed with, it changed everything. Saturday and Sunday mornings, when Ian didn’t have to go to work, were his absolute favorite.

Unfortunately, this morning wasn’t one of them.

Miles mumbled in protest when Ian tried to extract himself from the tangle of limbs they had been in. “No.”

A chuckle. “I have an important meeting this morning I can’t be late for.”

Pouting sleepily, Miles tightened his arms around Ian and repeated, “No.” Don’t go.

There was silence for a while, companionable and warm. Miles had never thought silence could feel warm, but it did, and he luxuriated in it. Contrary to his words, Ian didn’t seem in a particular hurry to get out of bed, his hand threading through Miles’s hair.

But after a while, Ian finally broke the comfortable silence.

“You could come with me to the office.”

Miles opened his eyes. “In what capacity? I’m not your assistant or even your intern anymore.”

“I could come up with a reason,” Ian said stiffly. “If Rutledge could put you into my office, so can I.”

Miles grimaced a little. Although it had been weeks since the disastrous dinner at the Rutledges’ house, the memory still made him uncomfortable. The whole subject made him uncomfortable. Although he’d managed to convince Alexander not to tell Zach anything, he hated how strained his relationships with him and the Rutledges had become. They probably viewed him as a traitor at worst or a delusional idiot at best. He didn’t know how to convince them that Ian wasn’t some kind of embodiment of evil. Texting about something like that was too weird, and he couldn’t see them in person, either, because he knew Ian was still touchy about the whole thing. Not hurting Ian’s feelings was more important to him than not hurting Derek and Shawn’s. He might have considered them friends, but Ian was… Ian was something else entirely.