Hidden Miles: The Miles Family Book 4

by Kingsley, Claire

  I loved this woman with every piece of myself. I’d bared my soul to her—showed her every wound and scar—and she still loved me.

  I wanted her to know how much that meant to me. Show her that I trusted her completely. That I was willing to let her in—hide nothing. That I wasn’t holding back anymore.

  “Wait,” I said, and kissed her nose.

  She watched me with curiosity in her eyes as I got up and flicked on the light. I stood next to the bed with no way to hide. No darkness. No ropes binding her, controlling her touch. And I took off my clothes.

  As many times as we’d been together, I’d never done this. Never with the lights on and without Hannah bound. I stood in front of her, letting her see me. My whole body—scars, tattoos and all.

  She dragged her teeth across her bottom lip as her eyes roved up and down my body. “Oh my god, you’re so sexy. Get over here and fuck me.”

  I crawled on the bed and helped her tear her clothes off. For the first time, we were both completely naked and unhindered. She could see me. Touch me. All of me.

  Her hands moved across my body, like she wanted to touch everything. Across smooth skin. Over my chest hair. Down my abs. She stroked my injured arm, leaning in to kiss the scarred skin. Her lips blazed a hot trail over my chest. Up my neck. To the ruined side of my face.

  She caressed and kissed every inch, taking her time, moving from my cheek, back down my neck to my shoulder and chest. Down my torso to my thigh. It felt so good, I couldn’t speak. All I could do was lie there while she loved all my scars and broken parts.

  Her perfect skin was like silk against mine. She worked her way back up my body, then slid one leg across my hips, climbing on top of me.

  “You’ve never let me do this before,” she said. “You only get naked when I’m tied up.”

  The heat between her legs was tantalizing against my erection. She sat on top of me, and the sight of her—so beautiful and perfect—rendered me almost speechless. Sitting upright, her legs on either side of my hips. Her round tits and hard, pink nipples. Those sexy as fuck tattoos down her arm.

  I ran my hands up her thighs. “I can tie you up, if you want.”

  “I do love that. Maybe next time.” She traced her fingertips over my chest, down my abs. “This is… incredible.”

  “How did I get so lucky?” I asked, meeting her eyes.

  “You deserve this.” She leaned down, holding herself up with her hands next to my face, her tits pressing against my chest. “You deserve to be loved, Leo.”

  I slid my fingers into her hair. “I love you so much. You deserve everything. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life giving it to you.”

  She moaned against my mouth as I kissed her. Rubbed her wet pussy against my hard length. Grabbing her hips, I pushed my cock inside, groaning at the feel of her.

  So fucking good.

  Her body slid against mine, skin on skin, my nerve endings firing. I thrust into her as she tilted her hips to drag her clit against me. Our kisses became ragged and messy—lips, tongue, and teeth.

  I growled as she slid up and down my cock. Turned my head to bare my neck to her as she nibbled and kissed down my scarred side.

  She lifted, sitting up again. Her legs still straddled my hips—my cock buried deep. Her eyes were half-closed, her hair wild, her cheeks pink. I watched in awe as she rode me, taking her pleasure. I gave it to her, enthusiastically. Held her hips and thrust inside her.

  Bracing herself against my chest, she slid along my hard length. In, then out. She found her rhythm. Rode me faster.

  “Leo,” she whimpered. “This feels so good.”

  Moving my hands up her ribcage, I grabbed her tits. Held them in my hands and squeezed, feeling her hard nipples against my palms.

  “That’s it, baby,” I said.

  Her pussy tightened, her heat rising. I could feel the tremors and pulses of her orgasm building. Tension spread from my groin, the exquisite pressure almost overwhelming.

  Rolling her hips, she moved faster. Her eyes drifted closed and I felt her fingernails drag across my chest. I was close, but I didn’t want to interrupt. Watching her on the brink of coming was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.

  A delicious moan left her lips as she started to come. She dropped down, letting her tits hit my chest, still rolling her hips in a steady rhythm. I growled in her ear as her pussy pulsed around my cock.

  Holding her tight against me, I waited while she caught her breath. Kissed her neck and shoulder. She lifted up enough to find my lips with hers. I ran my hands through her hair and kissed her, deep and slow.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “Did that feel good?”

  “Oh my god,” she said. “So good.”

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  I was still hard, aching for release. I flipped her onto her back and held her legs open. Stayed on my knees so I could watch my cock slide inside her.

  Burying my cock deep with every thrust, I drove into her. Felt the heat of her wet pussy surrounding me.

  Our eyes locked. I pounded her harder, the pressure building fast. She bit her lip as she watched me fuck her.

  No barriers. No darkness. Only us.

  I leaned down, chest to chest, bracing myself on top of her. She ran her hands down my back, over my ass. So much skin. So much silky softness against all my hard edges.

  With my face in her neck, breathing her in, I drove harder. Growled against her as I thrust. Deeper. Faster. I was immersed in her. Drowning in the feel of her body against mine.

  With a groan, low in my throat, I unleashed inside her. My cock throbbed, and I drove in deep. She clutched my back, holding me tight while I came—while my cock pulsed inside her.

  So good. So fucking good.

  We lay in each other’s arms for a long moment before I rolled off her. She wasn’t finished touching me. Much like I did when I untied her, she caressed the scarred side of my body, feathering me with kisses. The backs of my fingers. My hand, up my arm. Over my chest and shoulder. She kissed my neck and stroked my beard, finally landing with her lips on mine.

  “I love you,” she murmured, her mouth still against mine.

  “I love you too,” I said. “So fucking much.”

  She nestled against me and my hand trailed down to her stomach. I traced gentle circles below her belly button, enjoying her smooth skin. Caressing my baby, who was having my baby.

  Before Hannah, I’d been starved. Withering away to nothing. I’d allowed myself to become a victim of my past, succumbing to loneliness and despair.

  But she’d saved me. Over and over, Hannah had saved me. From the darkness and pain. From the demons that had haunted me for so long. She’d showed me that I could come out into the light. That I could live again.

  That’s exactly what I was going to do. Live, with her. I was going to love this woman forever. She was having my baby and we were going to be a family. It was still scary, but I was done hiding.

  And maybe Hannah was right. Maybe I did deserve to be loved. I knew one thing for sure. I was going to love her, and our child, with every piece of me—broken and whole.

  Epilogue

  Leo

  My heart raced and my hands felt clammy. I’d known this day was going to be difficult. That it would push me. But I embraced it. Felt the anxiety knotting my stomach and made the choice to flip the script. This wasn’t fear. It was excitement.

  I mostly believed that.

  Slow breaths helped. As did the feel of Hannah’s arm resting against mine. I was so much better. A year ago? I wouldn’t have dreamed of getting on a plane. And now, here we were.

  “You okay?” she asked, glancing at me.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Mostly.”

  “I’m really proud of you,” she said. “I know this is hard.”

  “Thanks.”

  Our six-month-old daughter sat in her lap, happily chewing on her fist. After a healthy pregnancy, she’d be
en born on a Tuesday. Watching my baby girl come into the world had been one of the most intense—and incredible—experiences of my life.

  We’d named her Madeline Joy. Madeline after my great-grandmother—and because it was the only name we’d both agreed on. And Joy because she and her mommy had brought me out of the darkness and taught me how to be happy again.

  Our little Maddy Joy.

  I hadn’t thought I could love anyone as much as I loved Hannah. But the moment I saw my daughter for the first time, I realized how wrong I’d been. I loved her so much, I thought I might burst with the fullness of it. And if anything, having a baby made me love Hannah even more.

  If Hannah was right, and I really did deserve love in my life, I was saturated with it. Surrounded. Drowning in it. And I’d never been happier.

  After Hannah had helped me escape the Paine family’s stronghold, Roland and I had fed the information to the DEA and FBI. We’d given them everything they needed and more. Only days later, the lumber mill—along with a dozen other locations—had been raided. Everyone connected with their operation had been arrested.

  The story had made national news. The media speculated there had been someone on the inside. No one had any idea that it had been me. That a wounded former soldier with a wicked case of agoraphobia and PTSD had broken into their operation and hacked their system.

  Most importantly of all, my family was safe.

  My dad had pleaded guilty to drug trafficking by possession and been sentenced to twenty years in prison. I honestly wondered if he’d live to see the end of it. He’d be well into his seventies when he got out, and as unhealthy as he’d seemed the last I’d seen him, I wasn’t sure he’d live that long.

  I’d made peace with that—and with the things my father had done. It would have been easy to hold onto hatred. Resent him for his selfishness. How he’d put my family in such danger. But it was over, now, and I didn’t want to live in the past. I was ready to move forward. Dad had lost everything—his career, his wife, his children, his home, and his freedom. He had grandchildren he’d never meet. A family he’d never be a part of. As far as I was concerned, he’d gotten everything he deserved.

  People continued to board the plane. Hannah gave Madeline a set of chunky plastic keys. She shook them, then stuffed one in her mouth. She could barely sit up on her own, but she put everything in her mouth.

  Silly girl.

  A woman about my mom’s age stopped in the aisle next to us and glanced down at Madeline. Her eyes swept over the three of us, pausing briefly on my face. My beard was trimmed neater than I used to keep it, and my hair shorter—still long, but no longer obscuring my scars. I met her eyes and smiled.

  She smiled back, looking again at my daughter. “She’s so cute. What a lovely little family.”

  “Thank you,” Hannah said.

  The way I looked still surprised people. It would always be that way. But I’d stopped punishing myself. Started seeing my scars as a sign of survival, instead of forced penance.

  Besides, the only person who mattered loved me the way I was.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Hannah said. “My parents are picking us up at the airport.”

  “I thought we were renting a car.”

  “Well, we were. But my dad went out and bought a new car—one with room for all of us.”

  “Really? He didn’t have to do that.”

  She shrugged. “I know. But that’s my dad for you.”

  I had a feeling I knew exactly why Calvin and Josephine had bought a new car. The same reason they’d cleaned out not one, but two bedrooms in their home in Arizona, and bought a crib and high chair. They wanted their daughter—and granddaughter—to come visit more than this once.

  Hannah’s parents had come to Washington to see us three times already. Once shortly after we’d found out Hannah was pregnant. They’d stayed at the Lodge—the hotel next door to our property—but spent most of their time at Salishan.

  They’d come again when Hannah and I had gotten married. We’d had a small ceremony—at Salishan, of course. Zoe and my mom had managed to make it magical—everything Hannah had wanted. And they’d visited again just after Madeline had been born.

  This time, it was our turn to visit them. We’d have gone sooner, but it was a challenge with a new baby. They’d offered to come to us again, but I’d insisted. I’d known it would be hard for me, but it meant so much to all of them, I was more than willing to do it.

  “Your parents are great,” I said. “I’m looking forward to this.”

  “Are you?” she asked.

  “Yeah, of course. I love your family.”

  “No, I know, that’s not what I mean.” She licked her lips and adjusted Madeline in her lap. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. The doctor said this could bring up a lot of stuff for you.”

  I reached out and brushed her hair back from her face. “I’m okay. And if I’m not, I’ll let you know.”

  She nodded, smiling at me, and turned a squirmy Madeline around to face her. “Good.”

  Madeline hiccupped and spit-up spewed out of her mouth, all over Hannah’s chest.

  “Oh, lovely,” Hannah said. “Can you take her?”

  I was already reaching for her. “Come here, beautiful.”

  So far, Madeline was built like Hannah—petite with tiny fingers and toes. But her features were all Miles. She looked a lot like me.

  I stood her up in my lap, holding around her middle and let her chubby baby legs take her weight. Hannah wiped Madeline’s mouth with a burp rag, then did her best to mop up the mess on her shirt.

  “What did you do to Mommy, silly?” I asked.

  Madeline took her fist out of her mouth and grinned at me.

  “That’s my girl.”

  She reached her slobbery hands out and touched my face. Her blue eyes were bright as her fingers moved over my beard. She touched my mouth, my cheek. Her hand moved across the scarred side of my face.

  And she smiled.

  “Aw, look at Daddy’s big girl,” Hannah cooed.

  I watched my daughter in wonder. This little miracle. Twice, I’d escaped death. And for so long, I’d tried to figure out why. Why me? Why had I lived?

  Maybe I was looking at the reason.

  Emotion blossomed in my chest. I loved my girls so much.

  Hannah had saved me, in every way. She’d pulled me out of darkness. Helped heal the broken pieces inside of me. She’d given me this beautiful daughter, and she didn’t know it yet, but I hoped we’d have more. We were a family. Scarred, and a little messy, but a family filled with love that would last a lifetime.

  * * *

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  Ben and Shannon’s story, Gaining Miles, is available for preorder! Turn the page for a preview.

  Gaining Miles: Chapter 1

  Ben

  Twenty-six years ago

  The sound of a giggling toddler was unexpected this deep in the vineyard. I’d come out here to walk among the vines. Find some solitude in the fragrant late-summer air. The other workers had gone in, and I hadn’t seen a soul. So why did I suddenly hear a baby’s laugh?

  The owners had kids, but I’d never seen them up close. Kept my distance from the family, although they lived here, on this beautiful piece of property. But getting to know people wasn’t why I was here. I was here to disappear.

  That, and make a little money. A man needed to eat, after all. And a job working at a winery in a tiny town in the mountains was as good a job as any. Better than most, really. Not many questions. Hard work, but I wasn’t afraid of that. And space. Lots of space. Perfect for days like today when the weight on my shoulders felt like it might crush me.

  Walking helped.

  There was that baby giggle again. I stopped and a bee buzzed past my ear. Had I imagined it? Was I farther gone than I’d thought? It had sounded like a little boy.

 
“Mama?”

  There was no quaver in that little voice. No indication he was scared. I walked up the row of vines, in the direction of the sound. Leaves rustled. Then a bump.

  Rounding a corner, I saw the source of the noise. A little boy, naked as the day he was born, sitting in the dirt. He had wispy light brown hair, pudgy cheeks, and a round belly. He looked up at me with enormous blue eyes—eyes that seemed to hold the entire sky—and smiled. Dimples puckered his cheeks, and he laughed.

  “I dirty,” he said, holding out his hands for me to see. They were indeed covered with dirt.

  “You sure are. What are you doing out here by yourself, little man?”

  He didn’t answer, just kept grinning at me.

  “Where’s your mommy?” I asked.

  “I dunno.” He gave me a dramatic shrug, dirty palms up, his blue eyes big and wide.

  He must have been one of the Miles kids. They had a few. Three boys, if I recalled. This one was probably about two years old.

  I glanced around, my ears straining for the sound of footsteps. His mother had to be close by. We were a long way from the main grounds and the house where the Miles family lived. How did this little guy get out here?

  “Bye, bye!”

  My head whipped around just in time to see the naked little boy disappearing between the vines.

  “Oh shit.”

  I darted after him. He wasn’t my kid—and seeing him dug at wounds I’d have much rather left buried—but I couldn’t just leave him. I couldn’t get through the gap, so I ran up ahead and doubled back. He wasn’t far ahead, but those chubby little legs moved fast. He cast a glance back at me, squealed at the top of his lungs, and ran faster.

  “You little stinker.”

  A few long strides and I was on him. I scooped him up, ignoring his flailing arms and kicking legs. He laughed hysterically, like we were playing the best game.