Page 38 of Sing Your Secrets
“Ramen noodles,” I clarify. “I know most people like the chicken flavor, but I think it’s gross. I’m a beef-flavor kind of girl. With a little splash of sriracha. Hits the spot.”
He smiles and moves his hand so I’m not trapped under the barrier of his arm. “I’m not trying to turn you down or anything. Actually, I feel like someone should give me a fucking gold medal for resisting you at the moment.” His eyes trail up and down my body. “I just figured maybe it’s a good time to try something new when it comes to dating.”
“And by that you mean you want to know my middle name, my favorite color, and what I like to read before you slide it in?”
“Slide it in? Good grief. You’re something else.” He laughs. “But yeah, pretty much. Are you mad?”
“No.” Perhaps it’s time I try this differently too. “As I said, I’m into it.” I pat the bed next to me. “So, no sex tonight, but where’d we land on spooning?”
With a wide grin, he acrobatically maneuvers over me and finds the empty side of the bed. Grabbing me by my hips, he pulls me down and into his body so his bare chest lines my back.
“Careful, there buddy.” I flinch as I feel his growing hard-on press into my lower back. “I’m dicklish.”
His laugh is breathy in my ear. “As in dick ticklish?”
“As in if you keep poking me like that, there are things I can do right now to make you change your mind about waiting.”
Reaching around, he grabs both of my hands in one of his, pinning them with ease. “Hands to yourself, missy.”
“Don’t need my hands for what I was thinking.”
“Go to sleep, Reese.” He groans in agony as he releases my hands and his arm nestles into the dip of my waist. “Sweet dreams.” Miles kisses the back of my head tenderly.
Ahhh.
Like I said—I’m so screwed.
The tingles are near unbearable as my curves meld into the wall of his chest and abs. My hips lock into his. I’m instantly warm—too warm. I don’t bother pulling the blanket on top of us. Breathing in my hair, he moans in appreciation. “This is nice by the way. I would’ve never pegged you for a cuddler,” he says into my ear.
“I used to be.”
A long time ago.