by RC Boldt
* * *
“Be honest. Aren’t you just thrilled about spending Christmas with the awesome Wittakers this year? Instead of the heinousness that encompasses your aunt and uncle?” Cassie shuddered. “And don’t get me started on your cousin.”
Cassie’s husband, Ben, snickered as he passed the ketchup to Tate. They were sitting around the table in Cassie and Ben’s large hotel suite, eating a smorgasbord of fish and chips, baked beans, lobsters, and both steamed and fried clams. Cassie insisted they have a Boston-style Christmas dinner, and Ben’s friend who owned one of the local restaurants had taken pity on their situation and prepared the feast for them.
Tate lowered her gaze. “Well, then, you’ll be glad to hear that I’ve officially cut ties with them.” Her aunt and uncle had been a toxic influence long before her parents’ deaths. It didn’t help that her Aunt Barb, Uncle Dan, and cousin Melissa had always been more of the freeloader type. It had been exacerbated since then, the way they had all but demanded her presence on the holidays only to apply a combination of guilt trip and pressure for her to give them money. Money which was a mixture of a blessing and a curse since the only reason she’d inherited it was because of her parents’ death. She had invested much of it, placing the rest in savings for—God forbid—an extreme emergency.
The sudden revelations surrounding her former relationship with Miller had made her realize that she needed to truly rid herself of people who were draining, contributing nothing but stress and hardship to her life.
Cassie reached over, laying her hand over Tate’s arm. “I’m proud of you, sweetie. I know it was probably tough for you, but you’re better off without them.”
“Here, here,” Ben agreed. “Plus, their start-up should be prospering by now, right?” The corners of his lips twitched. “What was it they were doing again? Creating a website for people to input addresses of who they want invited to their funeral and it would, upon death, immediately send out the invitation?” He added drily, “It’s a wonder that never took off.”
The three of them cracked up.
After their laughter had died down, Tate spoke up, giving the two a grateful smile. “Seriously, though. Thanks for letting me spend Christmas with you guys.”
Without any hesitation, Ben said, “Cassie made me.”
“Ben!” His wife playfully shoved him.
He grinned at his wife. “She knows I’m kidding.” Turning a serious gaze upon Tate, he said, “You know we’re glad to have you. Especially since neither one of us have family around now, either.” He winked at her. “You’re stuck with us for the long haul, kiddo.”
Tate glanced over at little Vivianne, who was currently in baby bliss, sleeping peacefully in her glider before turning back to Cassie and Ben. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
* * *
“Merry Christmas, T.”
God, just hearing Miller’s voice on the phone made her stomach give a little flip in anticipation of seeing him when she got back home. But combine that with actually getting to see him talking to her on the phone? Getting to see that slow, private smile of his and those eyes. It was like a double whammy.
“Merry Christmas, Miller.” She smiled down at her phone in her hand as she slid into her bed in the quiet hotel room. “Thanks for uploading this app on my phone. It’s pretty cool to actually get to talk to you like this.”
“What are you up to?”
“Getting into bed, finally. It’s been a busy but fun day.” She shook her head with a wry smile. “I don’t know how Cass is doing all this with a new baby. Getting disrupted by the whole impromptu evacuation from their building with Vivianne in tow had to be rough, but she just takes it in stride.” She laughed. “Hell, it’s exhausting just watching Cassie with Viv.”
Miller flashed her a smile. “She’s always had her act together. Even back in the day.”
“This is true.” She peered at him on the screen of her phone. “Are you in bed, too?”
“Yes.” Was it just her or was his tone a bit huskier? “I was hoping I’d get to talk to you before I went to sleep.”
“Did your Mom have a good time today with everyone?”
Miller chuckled. “That’s a definite yes. She got a kick out of everyone. Especially Laws and Zach.”
“I’ll bet.”
“I can’t see much of you on the screen of my phone. You have on a strappy top but I can’t see if you have those cute little shorts on.”
Rolling her eyes, she asked, “Miller Vaughn, are you trying to make this one of those calls?”
His wide grin said it all. “Maybe. Depends on whether you’re down for that kind of thing or not.”
Tate shook her head with a tiny laugh. “Between you and Laney, I swear. You’re both terrible.”
His head cocked to the side, eyes questioning. “How’s Laney involved in that?”
Pursing her lips, she explained, “When she came to ‘help’ me pack, apparently she felt the need to slip a little something into my suitcase.”
His eyebrows rose. “Oh? And what was it?”
She gave him a look. “It’s Laney. Guess.”
He threw his head back in a low laugh. “Oh, hell. She gave you a toy, didn’t she?”
“Yep.”
He seemed to get closer to the phone, his voice lowering. “So, have you used it yet?”
“Miller Vaughn!” she admonished, feeling heat rush to her cheeks.
His voice dropped to something low, husky, and full of heat. “You could always use it now. For me.”
Oh, my. Just the idea sent heat rushing straight to her core.
“You know that it’s killing me right now that I can’t touch you. Or slide the straps of your top out of the way so I can kiss your shoulder.” His voice was impossibly deep, his eyes darkening with heat.
“Miller.” His name came out sounding breathless.
He let out a low groan. “You have no idea what it does to me to hear you say my name like that.” She watched him shift slightly, as if he were—
“Are you …” She trailed off.
He didn’t immediately answer, looking back at her, gaze so hot and intense that it was hard to believe he wasn’t in the same room with her. Finally, he answered, “Yeah, I am.”
Her eyes fell closed at his answer, instant arousal setting in at knowing he was stroking himself. She let out a sigh. “Miller.”
“God, Tate. The way you say my name like that,” he breathed. “I’m so fucking hard. I’d give anything to be there with you right now.” His eyes fell closed briefly, appearing to try and compose himself.
“Can you show me?” Holy shit. Did she just ask him that? She did. She just asked Miller Vaughn to show her live video of his cock. Of his hard cock, no less. Sweet baby Jesus. The ‘Miller Vaughn Effect’ was clearly in full force tonight, switching her brain over into turbo horny mode.
He appeared surprised by her request, gazing back at her for a moment before a smug smile came over his face. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
“Typical.” She let out a small laugh. “What of mine do you want to see, exactly?”
“I’m dying to see those nipples of yours. God, what I wouldn’t give to feel them in my hands. In my mouth. To run my tongue over them.”
She let out a tiny groan at his words and the heat that they elicited. Watching as the view of Miller seemed to bobble a bit, she realized it was because he was getting more unsteady due to his ministrations.
“Jesus, Tate. You’ve got no idea how much you turn me on. How much the idea of having my mouth on you turns me on even more.”
“Show me.” Her voice was husky. “Please.”
Miller slowly moved the phone so that the camera was directed toward his cock and—
Holy shit. The sight made her inner muscles clench and she felt herself grow even wetter. Because she swore that Miller Vaughn’s cock was harder, thicker than she’d ever seen it get.
“I wish I could lick
you right now.” Tate watched as the phone’s view changed back to show his face. He looked pained for a moment.
“T, you have no idea what it does to me to hear you say that.” He paused before he added, “Now it’s your turn.”
Using one hand, she slid up the hem of the plain white cotton tank top, to rest just above her breasts. Moving the phone so that he would be able to see, she ran her thumb over one hardened nipple, hearing him swear under his breath. Raising the phone again so that he would see her face, she asked saucily, “Was that good?”
“Fuck, yes. It was so fucking good.” His eyes fell closed and she knew he was working himself with his hand. Opening his eyes, his voice was laden with lust. “Please, baby. Please touch yourself for me.”
Propping the phone up beside her on the pillows, she watched as he appeared to do the same.
“I want to watch your face as you come,” he told her. “I love watching you when you come apart. When you say my name.”
She had begun running her finger in circles over her clit, her breathing becoming as labored as his own.
“You’re so beautiful, T,” he said on a ragged breath. “Tell me when you’re about to come. I want to hear you say it.”
A small moan escaped her lips as she grew closer to release. “I’m so close, Miller.” Her eyes were fixed on the sight of Miller’s face on her phone, those full lips parted, harsh breathing. He stared back at her with so much heat in his gaze.
“Think about me sliding my cock inside of you. Pressing deep.” He broke off with a husky groan. “Fuck. I want to feel you rocking against me, coming all around me.”
“Miller, I’m—” She broke off as her orgasm washed over her, her body arching as she cried out, his name echoing throughout the quiet hotel room.
“Oh, baby. That’s so fucking hot. You’re going to make me …Tate …” Miller’s words were uttered in a guttural moan as he found his own release.
As they both laid there, allowing their breathing to calm, Tate worried her bottom lip.
Miller spoke, his dark blue eyes watchful. “Say it.”
Finally, allowing the grin she had been restraining to form, she cocked an eyebrow. “Are you going to really try and tell me you didn’t load the app on my phone for this reason?”
Releasing a slight chuckle, his eyes crinkled at the corners, smug smile upon his face. “Don’t pretend you didn’t love it, Donnelly.”
I love you.
Shit! She hadn’t said that aloud, had she? Because, well, it wasn’t the time or place. She didn’t want to tell him this way.
The panic must have shown on her face since he instantly asked, concerned, “You okay?”
“Yeah, I just … thought that maybe I forgot to slide the top lock over on the hotel room door.” Forcing a smile, she added, “I get creeped out staying in a hotel room by myself sometimes.” Nice save, Donnelly.
He offered a comforting smile. “Well, go make sure it’s locked and that you’re secure.” He glanced downward with a grimace. “I’ve got to get cleaned up.” Returning to look at her, he gave her what had to be the sweetest smile, his voice tender as he added, “Sweet dreams, T. I miss you.”
“Miss you, too. Sweet dreams,” she replied softly. After they ended their video chat, tossing her phone to the side, she laid there in her hotel room bed for quite some time, mulling over the realization. And it wasn’t that she loved Miller Vaughn.
It was that she hadn’t ever stopped.
Tate,
For some reason, I’m missing you more today than normal. And it sucks. Probably because, if I’m being honest, I miss you so much it just about kills me.
Hendy’s teaching me to play the guitar because he said it’ll “help me get hot chicks”. Not like I need help getting women. I don’t. I really just need help getting the one woman that I want.
Except you don’t want me back, do you?
Learning to play the acoustic guitar takes my mind off of you sometimes. Other times, it makes it worse. Because I think about what could happen once I get good enough to play a full song. I think about playing for you, think about how you would look if I surprised you with a song.
Why am I doing this? I need to let you go. I need to.
M.
CHAPTER FORTY
“WHO’S HARLEY?”
Noelle’s question made everyone’s head whip around to stare at her. It was a slower day than normal and Miller, Foster, and Kane were in the office along with Noelle.
Kane stared at their office manager. “How do you not know about his dog, Harley?”
She appeared stunned. “He has a dog?” Turning to Foster, she narrowed her eyes. “Is it one of those tiny Chihuahuas or something?”
“Yeah. I put little sparkly booties on its paws and carry it around in my man purse,” Foster deadpanned.
Noelle stared, lips parting in shock. “Really?”
Foster huffed out a breath. “Fuck, no. He’s a badass Belgian Malinois.”
She appeared slightly disappointed. “Oh. Well. That certainly makes more sense.”
“Why? You can’t see me with a tiny, pint-sized pup?” Foster posed the question, one eyebrow raised in challenge.
Noelle shrugged casually. “Nah. It makes more sense for you to have a big dog. I mean, a man who has a large, intimidating dog is usually overcompensating for a teeny, tiny—”
“Don’t say—” They could all see the tic in Foster’s jaw.
“—penis.” Noelle had what was sure to be classified as a shit-eating grin on her face.
Miller watched as Foster’s eyes turned glinty, dangerous. “You think I’m not packing?”
The air was crackling with tension as Miller exchanged an amused look with Kane. They both leaned back in their chairs to watch the entertaining showdown before them.
“Meh.” Noelle had officially thrown down the gauntlet with that one, single utterance. She and Foster engaged in an epic staredown until Kane finally broke the silence.
“Hey, Vaughn. Do you get the whole hashtag thing at all?”
Not seeing where his friend was going with the change in direction of the conversation, he answered carefully, “Not really. Why?”
“Just thinking of the hashtags that could be applied to this conversation. Like hashtag awkward.”
“Hashtag dogs,” Miller offered.
Kane made a face. “Weak. You can do better. Hashtag sexual tension.”
“Hashtag penis talk.”
Eyes lighting up with approval, Kane said, “Hashtag size matters.”
“Hashtag you’re all fired if you continue with that,” Foster chimed in, with a quiet but lethal undertone.
Silence fell over the office as they all went back to their work. Until, that is, Kane had to whisper. Loudly.
“Hashtag grouchy pants.”
And, after that, there was no way in hell Miller and Kane could manage to cover up their snickering.
* * *
“What time’s your woman getting in at the airport?” Kane asked as they were getting home from work.
Miller checked his watch. “In two hours.” He headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water. “Why? You coming along for the ride?”
Kane trailed behind him. “Naw. Just asking. Since you’ve been unusually subdued lately.”
Giving his friend a look, he asked, “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I mean. You haven’t mentioned her as much.” Kane paused. “Did something happen while she was away?”
Miller’s lips parted to answer before he clamped them shut. Hell. How did he even explain it?
“Just spit it out, Vaughn.” Kane slumped onto the couch, eyeing him carefully.
“I got this pic while we were at Mac and Raine’s for New Year’s Eve. Well, actually Cassie, her old college roommate, sent it to me.”
Kane’s eyes lit up. “Ooooh! Was it a smokin’ hot pic?”
With a forced laugh, Miller shook his head. “Not exactl
y.”
His friend seemed confused. “Then, what?”
Miller pulled his phone from his pocket, swiping the screen until he found what he was searching for. He walked over to where his friend sat, holding the phone out for him. Kane took it, bringing it closer to inspect the photo on the screen. His eyes widened slightly before his lips curved into a smile that was different from his usual, typical lady-charmer smile. His eyes raised to meet Miller’s.
“I’ve gotta be honest, Vaughn. I feel slightly turned on by this pic.”
“What the hell?” He reached to grab the phone but Kane moved it out of his reach.
“Hold up, hold up. I’m just saying that there’s something to be said when you see a beautiful woman who’s either pregnant or,” he gestured to the phone still in his hand, “a beautiful woman holding a sweet, tiny baby against her chest.” Kane gazed down at it before glancing back up at Miller. Tipping his head in the direction of the spot beside him on the couch, he said, “Sit for minute.”
Exhaling loudly, anticipating a lecture, Miller flopped down beside his friend.
Instantly, Kane threw a heavy arm around his shoulders. “Okay,” he began, “so what’s the deal with you being weirded out by this pic?”
Leaning his head back against the couch, his eyes fell closed as he let out a groan. “I don’t know.”
Kane’s response was instant. “Copout.”
His eyes flew open as he looked at his friend accusingly. “What the fuck, man?”
Unbothered by his outburst, his friend gave a half-shrug. “It is. You freaked out. Because …”
Miller merely stared and waited. The truth of the matter was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit why the photo made him freak out, sending a burst of nervous panic through his entire body. It was simply a photo Cassie had snapped of Tate in the plush, cushioned hotel chair with Cassie’s baby girl lying on her chest, both of them asleep. So, he remained silent. Yet, it still made him wince to hear the reason fall from his friend’s lips.
“Because it hit home for you. Because you want that tiny baby to be yours and Tate’s. But you’re scared shitless about letting yourself want it.” Kane handed the phone back to him. “Scared shitless about wanting all of that, right there.”
