Once Upon a Sure Thing (Heartbreakers #2)(39)

He scoops me up and carries me to the piano bench. “This will help me finish the song.”

My eyes widen in surprise, then I tremble when I see what awaits—a silver and red ribbon is draped over the piano bench.

“Early Christmas gift to me,” he says wiggling his eyebrows as he tugs off my sweater, tank, and bra, then pulls down my jeans. I kick off my shoes.

I’m nearly naked in front of a man who’s only ever been my friend, and a dash of nerves spreads over my skin. I want him to like what he sees. The way his breath hitches and his eyes blaze tells me all I need to know.

We both like the view of each other.

I hold up my hands in front of me, crossing them at the wrists. “Wrap me up, then.”

He slides a hand between my legs, and I tremble into his touch. “That’s what I wanted to know, baby. That’s what I needed.”

“To know I want you so much I can never wear these panties again?”

He smiles wickedly. When he cups me between my legs, the sound he makes is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. “This is my reward,” he rasps out, stroking the obscenely wet panel of my panties.

My eyelids flutter. “For what?”

“For waiting six years to touch you.”

I shake as he peels my panties off, leaving me naked before him. “Have you waited that long?”

He stares at me with a heat in his eyes. “The night I met you, I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to fuck you and make you come. And now I can.”

My mind is nothing but a haze of lust as he guides me to the bench. I sit, and he raises my arms, ties my wrists above my head, and then lays my back against the keys. I’m not sure this is the most comfortable position, but I’m positive I’ve never looked sexier, since the floor-to-ceiling windows give me a view of myself—I’m spread out on his piano bench, my spine arched over the keys, a silver and red ribbon tied tightly around my wrists.

Miller kneels, places his hands on my knees, and spreads me open. I whisper his name in a desperate plea.

He breathes out roughly. “Look at you, baby.”

He glides a finger through my wetness.

One touch.

And I’m hovering on the edge.

“You’re so turned on for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Another finger joins, sliding through all that slickness, and stars flicker before my eyes. I think I could come in seconds.

He dips his face to my thigh and licks my skin. The sounds I make shock me. I’ve never whimpered like this in my life. I’ve never wanted anyone like this.

I never knew my Miller could do this to me—make me quiver. Make me practically sob with longing. Tightness threads through me, a pulsing need to be taken.

“Have you wanted me too?” His breath is hot on my skin, and already I’m in some other world, some world where truth and desire are unleashed like wild beasts running free. Have I wanted him? Hell, yes. But I’ve denied it. I’ve shoved it away. I’ve hidden it.

Now, as his lips skate so close to where I want him most, I don’t deny.

I confess.

“I’ve wanted you so much.” Words burst from my lips. “I want you to lick me and eat me and make me come on your mouth.”

A groan seems to rip from his throat as he licks a line up my center like he’s finishing the last taste of the most decadent dish he’s ever had.

I’m wrecked. Completely wrecked.

He moans as he kisses me. He growls as he widens my legs farther. And his eyes fall shut in a look of the most intense pleasure I’ve ever imagined on a man. As he licks me, the pleasure electrifying, a truth hits me.

I’ve imagined him.

I pictured this that day back at the hobby shop, when he teased me about ribbons. I’ve flirted with it well before then too. But I always found a way to hide it.

There’s no hiding anymore as Miller covers me with his mouth.I try to lift my hands, but I can’t. “I want to wrap my hands in your hair and pull you close,” I murmur.

He opens his eyes, winking as he flattens his tongue and licks, flicking the tip of it against my swollen center. I’m keenly aware of the ticking clock, racing perilously close to my exit hour. But I’m aware, too, of every exposed nerve ending, every inch of skin, every rippling wave of heat as Miller goes down on me.

I can’t grab him like I want, can’t yank him closer, but I can arch my back, lift my hips, and thrust against his face.

Oh God, I’m fucking Miller’s face.

And it’s filthy and divine.

I can’t stop. Won’t stop. I love the stubble scratching me, I love his lips on me, and I love everything about his wild abandon. As I rock up, he grips my thighs tight, devouring me like he promised. Pulses of pleasure ricochet through me until I’m there.

I chase down bliss, and then I find it. I come undone on his lips, so magnificently that my noises have to be audible across town.

And I don’t care.

When I manage to open my eyes, Miller’s standing, stroking his hard cock. It’s like an iron spike.

“Look what you do to me, baby. When you leave I’m going to take care of this again.”

“I wish I could stay for that,” I say.

He bends to me, brushing his lips against my cheek. I murmur contentedly as endorphins wash over me, a beautiful wave cresting endlessly. He reaches my ear and kisses the earlobe. “I meant every word, Ally. I’ve wanted you for so long, and you taste better than cherries.”