I suck harder, relaxing my throat and reveling in his shout as I swallow around him. A part of me wants to laugh in delight that I can do this. That I am doing this. My first time. With Brendan. And it’s so damn good.
“Fuck, Millie.”
He’s close. He loosens his grip in my hair, but I won’t lift my head. I need to taste his release.
When he comes, the head of his cock swells in my mouth as he pumps his hips up toward my face. I feel his first salty gush as it pulses into my mouth and over my tongue. Yes.
My groan vibrates between us as I taste him for the first time. I tighten my lips to try to keep it all in, to swallow all of Brendan. Greedy for him. Craving more. Loving this.
Loving him.
I don’t lift my mouth until I’ve cleaned his still-hard shaft, lapping at his stomach to get every drop.
“You like how I taste?”
I’m crazy for it.
“Mmmhmm.”
Brendan is up on his elbows, watching me with a sultry, hooded gaze. “If you don’t stop now, we’re not going to make it home before I fuck you.”
I’m tempted, more than I thought I could be, but I want what he’s been promising even more.
Tied to my bed.
I sit up, licking my lips clean as he slips his cock back into his jeans with a grimace.
He stops, shaking his head as he studies me. “Jesus, you’re so damn sexy. You have no idea, but you can’t hide it anymore, Day. I hope you’re ready for what comes next.”
Ready or not.
I buckle my seatbelt with fingers that feel clumsy and thick. I did that. This was my idea.
The neighbors would be so proud.
When my street comes into view, I feel a momentary resurgence of my inner control freak.
Are you sure you want to do this? I know you’re high on endorphins and feeling no pain, but there’s no refund on this decision. Once you’ve lost it, you can’t get it back.
If what we just did was what I’ve been missing out on? I don’t fucking want it back. I want to lose it so thoroughly, I forget it ever existed.
I wonder if Brendan knows just how willing I am. He’s quiet again, either focusing on the drive or thinking about what’s going to happen as soon as we get behind closed doors.
“I want you to,” I say into the silence.
He swerves slightly as he looks at me. “You want me to what?”
“Tie me to the bed.”
“Damn it.” His laugh comes out as a groan. “You can’t say shit like that while I’m driving, Miller. We’re one block away from the house and you’re trying to make me wreck this car.”
“I mean it.” I turn toward him. “I’m giving you permission to tie me down.”
He pulls into the driveway with a sigh of relief and turns off the engine, his eyes now fully on me. “Is this because of what I said? What you think I want? This is your first time, Miller. It should be what you want. Special.”
I shake my head. “It should be whatever we want it to be. I’m not a teenager. I admit I’m late to the game, but I know what I can take.”
Brendan looks like he wants to grab me and pick up where we left off, but then he looks out the car window and his face tightens. “Inside. Now.”
“I have bungee cords in the garage,” I say before I get out of the car and walk swiftly toward the house. I have to bite my lip to stop smiling like a lunatic.
I deliberately avoid looking across the street or toward the windows next door. I don’t even need to look over my shoulder to know I just made Brendan crazy.
Maybe I have been hiding a wild streak.
Who knew?
Chapter Seven
Burning Down the House
Brendan
Miller Day has hidden depths.
Not so hidden anymore.
I thought I knew him. All the small details, like the fact that he’s not as awkward as he thinks in social situations, and he usually ends up gravitating toward the people who are and making them more comfortable. That he thrives on routine and keeping his hands busy, and he has the need to fix anything or anyone that’s broken. That he’s loyal, even when the person he’s being loyal to doesn’t always deserve it. And I know that I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
What I didn’t know was that once he stopped holding back, I’d be the one knocked for a loop. I didn’t know that those busy hands—that mouth—would destroy my restraint and make me so desperate to claim him that my hands would be the ones shaking. Or that this sudden embrace of his sexuality would make me feel as jittery as a damn virgin.