The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys #1)(95)

“Does it feel okay?” I asked him tentatively. Tightly.

He nodded against my neck. “Incredible. You feel incredible.”

We kissed again, easier now. I was adjusting to the feel of him inside me, my body getting used to the size and heavy hardness of him. Slowly, he pulled out and then pushed back in. Over and over.

I bit my lip at the sensations, the fading pain and a faint ache of pleasure, like a promise waiting to burn brighter another time. His slow, careful thrusts quickly became more. He moved faster, kissing me constantly, holding my face, and asking me if I was all right. He never let me forget that he wasn’t losing himself in his own pleasure until finally the words melted away.

I wrapped my legs around Miller’s body, anchoring him to me as he moved inside me. My arms clutched his neck and my fingers in his hair that was damp with sweat.

He grunted, jaw clenched. “Vi…”

“Come,” I managed. “Come inside me.”

My words sent him over. Miller’s body shuddered against mine, his face contorted in a pleasure-pain expression. A few final, erratic thrusts, and then he collapsed over me.

Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes and spilled down my cheeks as I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his naked chest expand against mine as we caught our breath. I held onto him, clung to him and this moment, this experience of having him and giving myself to him. He was mine. He’d always been mine since the day we met and maybe even before that.

The sun was going to rise on a new day and take him away from me, but for those delirious moments and the handful of hours that came after, I had him, and it was perfect.





Chapter Twenty-Three





As the morning light streamed in from the window, I woke up with Miller wrapped around me. My body ached in the best way. I held onto the feeling, relished it. He’d been inside me, and I could still feel him there. My first.

My only.

I shut my eyes and snuggled closer to him, my back to his chest. His arm around me and his breath, deep and even in sleep, against my neck. I started to drift off again when my phone vibrated with a call amongst the pile of our discarded clothes.

Sleepily, I peered down to see Evelyn’s name. I started to ignore it, but then, why would she call me? To gloat? Or was it an emergency?

I stretched out of Miller’s embrace and grabbed the phone. I curled to the edge of the bed and kept my voice low.

“Hey, Evelyn, what is it?”

A short silence. “Violet?”

“Yes.” I frowned. “Did you mean to call someone else?”

“I’m calling Miller. Isn’t this his phone?”

“What? No…” I examined the phone I held and realized she was right. “Oh, sorry. I was half asleep.”

“Is he there?”

“He is,” I said tightly. “Sleeping.”

If it shocked or upset Evelyn to know Miller and I were in bed together, she didn’t show it. “Okay, don’t wake him. Just pass on the message that I’m ready to go whenever he is. Oh, and tell him, thanks again! Ciao!”

The phone went quiet, and I stared at it for a few moments. The screen reverted back to its locked position, but a text notification was there, the start of the message visible. From Evelyn, sent last night.

You did it, baby!! xoxoxoxo…

I set the phone on the nightstand and lay on my back.

Ready to go…where?

Miller slept for another few minutes then slowly came awake. He glanced around confused, sleep still clinging to him, and his gaze landed on me. The smile that came over him to see me was so beautiful and soft…and short-lived.

“What is it? Was last night…? Was it too much?”

“Last night was perfect.”

He looked almost shy. “I thought so too. But what’s wrong?”

“Evelyn called you,” I said, sitting up against the headboard and tucking the sheet around me. “I answered your phone by mistake. She said to tell you she’s ready to go whenever you are.”

Miller’s head fell back, and he rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “Goddamn her.”

“What is she talking about?”

He sat up beside me, covering himself to the waist, and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “She’s talking about Los Angeles. I promised her that if I signed a contract, I’d take her with me to record the album. As my personal assistant.”

My skin went cold all over, while my cheeks burned as if I’d been slapped.

“Why…why would you do that? Do you need a personal assistant?”

“I don’t need anything,” he said. “It’s for her. To get her foot in the door. To make her own connections and then she’s gone. I wouldn’t have even entertained the idea except she needs…help. I can’t tell you more. I promised her I wouldn’t.” He bit off a curse. “I know how it looks—”

“How does it look, Miller?” I asked, my voice cracking. “Are you going to be living with her?”

“No. I don’t know where I’m going to live, but… no. There’s nothing between us, I swear. And yes, I can hear myself. I sound like a fucking jackass. I was going to tell you first and explain everything.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before you left? How long have you and she been planning this?”