Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) (7 page)

"Excuse me." The voice that asks is shy. Barely a whisper. "Aren't you Miles Webb?"

Ah, a female fan in a sex toy shop. Two years ago, this night would have gone a different way.

I turn to face my fan. She's a pretty girl, and she's dressed to party—high heels, tight skirt, enough makeup to drown her features.

Two years ago, I'd have leaned in and whispered
yes, but baby, you can call me Miles
. Two years ago, I'd have gotten her panties to her knees by the time we were out the door.

I don't miss that guy. I don't even like that guy.

She's looking at me like she hopes I'm that guy. I'm not sure what to think. If she really is a fan, she should know I'm taken. My tattoo was big news. Women everywhere wept over the
Smoking Hot Vocalist, Miles Webb, Off the Market
headlines.

My temper flares. It's been a long time since I've hit anyone. Most of the time, I'm steady as a rock.

No wonder I denied the existence of love for so long. It breaks down your walls. Makes you vulnerable.

"Sorry, I'm not familiar with that name." I nod a goodbye and make my way to the register.

I can feel her gaze on me. There's a
No Cameras
sign posted on the wall. There are about twenty
No Cameras
signs posted on the walls. She doesn't look like the rule-breaking type. As far as I can tell, it took every ounce of courage for her to talk to me.

It’s been a long time since I've hit anyone. Don't want to start again.

I finish my purchase, step outside, and text Meg than I'm inbound. Usually, she replies right away. Nothing tonight.

Nothing when I'm back at the hotel.

Damn, the elevator is taking forever. I need to break out this gift and use it with her.

Finally, the damn thing arrives. I step into the elevator and lean against the mirrored wall. All the walls are mirrored. Gives me ideas. Fucking amazing ideas.

It takes the elevator an eternity to reach our floor. I walk quickly. My key is in my pocket. There. The door flashes green as it unlocks. I step inside.

The lights are off. Even in the bathroom.

Meg is lying on the bed, naked and fast asleep.

This isn't how I expected the night to end, but fuck, does she look cute in her sleep.

I've already got a plan figured out. I spend an hour squaring away the details, then I brush my teeth, strip to my boxers, and slide into bed behind her.

Her body stirs. She mumbles my name, nestles into my chest, and falls back to sleep.

––––––––

M
egara

It's heaven waking up in Miles's arms.

Math is difficult at this time of the morning, but mine suggests I have another twenty-seven days in the same bed as him.

Most people don't get twenty-seven great days in a year. Some people don't get twenty-seven great days in their life.

I'm lucky, but still, I want more.

I get up, brush my teeth, and rifle though my attire options. Thankfully, Mom brought me a suitcase of clothes. I dress in jeans, a t-shirt, and a cozy cashmere sweater.

Miles rises and goes through his morning routine. He slides his arms around me and pulls me onto the couch with him. "That sweater is entrapment."

"Is that right?"

"Mhmm." He presses his lips to mine. "Can't do anything but hug you."

"Why is that a problem?"

"Because we have someplace to be." He releases me and brings his arms to the bed. "Our tour of the venue is in an hour."

"You should have woken me."

"You look too cute sleeping." He brushes my hair behind my ears. "I made reservations for dinner tonight. Private room at a Japanese place. It's not technically a rehearsal dinner-"

"You're that sure I'll love the venue?"

He nods.

"What if I don't like it?"

"Then we'll find another venue."

"And the money for the deposit?"

Miles laughs. "Princess, we're getting married. This is the one time where you don't think about trivialities."

"Money is a triviality?"

He nods.

"How rich are you?" I know Miles is wealthy. The several-million-dollar beach house purchases give away how well Tom and Pete are doing. And Miles makes more than any of the other guys in the band. He's the only one with a side gig.

He's the only one who inherited a fortune.

"Convince me to tell you," he teases.

"Don't we have someplace to be?"

"Damn. Guess you'll have to wait."

"Miles! Tell me! Please."

"What's in it for me?" He tugs at my sweater.

I press my palms together. "My eternal devotion."

"Hmmm." His eyes pass over me. His tongue slides over his lips. "Can you sweeten the deal?"

I flip him off playfully.

He smiles. "About thirty million. Give or take."

He's effortlessly casual about it.
I'm worth thirty million dollars. No big deal.

We'll be worth thirty million dollars.

I'm willing to say goodbye to fifteen million dollars in the event you tire of me
.

A long time ago, we agreed that he'd pay for anything we do together. I've never felt compelled to challenge the rule. Since I quit my job as an ER scribe last May, I've been without income. I spend all my savings on textbooks and the caffeine necessary to get through the day.

But thirty million dollars...

"Breathe, Princess." He rubs my shoulders. "It's good news."

"Do you want a prenup?" That's what wealthy people do, isn't it?

"You planning on divorcing me?"

"Of course not."

"Then no."

"What if something happens?"

"If I let our relationship get to point where you want to take me to the cleaners, I don't deserve a cent of that thirty million dollars." He slides his hand around my neck, cupping the back of my head. "I've had a lot of money for a long time. It never made me happy."

"But-"

"You make me happy, Meg. Happier than any amount of money."

"But thirty million dollars."

He laughs.

"This is important." I look up at him. "I'd never take advantage."

"I know." He drags his fingertip over my chest like he's doodling on my skin. "I wouldn't either."

"Huh?"

"Of how badly you want me." He pulls my sweater aside so he can trace the lines of my tattoo. "If you aren't one hundred percent after the tour of the venue, we'll cancel and we'll fly to the Caribbean early."

"We're going to the Caribbean?"

He nods. "For our honeymoon. Unless spending the week on the beach doesn't work for you."

"No. It works." It sounds amazing. Exactly the break I need. I meet his gaze. "You're really ready to get married tomorrow?"

"I've been ready since the day I got this." He pulls his t-shirt down to show off his
Megara
tattoo. "That's more permanent than a ring or a piece of paper."

His blue eyes shine with certainty. I run my fingers over his tattoo. It makes me as happy as it did the first time I saw it.

I need him as much as I did that night.

I love Miles more every day.

That's what matters.

"I don't want to disappoint you." I lean closer. "If I don't like it."

"You won't."

"You promise?"

He nods. "Whatever you decide, we have the rest of our lives together."

***

T
here's a limo waiting for us.

"Your chariot." Miles presses his palm against my lower back as he helps me inside. His smile is ear to ear.

Even after a year together, it's not like him to wear his heart on his sleeve. Not this nakedly.

"I don't know how to handle you being this openly affectionate." I scoot next to him on the bench seat. "Say something sarcastic. I have to be sure you're my Miles Webb."

"Whose Miles Webb do you think I am?"

"That's a start."

"I don't mind you ordering me around, but it's not going to end with us using our mouths for conversation." His voice shifts, half cocky, half sincere.

That's the Miles I know. "Better." Nerves dance in my stomach as the limo pulls away from the hotel. We're going to our wedding venue. I have to make the call on whether or not we're getting married there tomorrow night.

No pressure.

Teasing with Miles feels normal. Like it's not three days after my first semester of med school, two weeks before he leaves for another four months, God knows how many minutes before I decide when we make this official.

I shift onto his lap. "How should I order you around?"

"Oh, you want me to demonstrate?"

I nod.

He tugs at the neckline of my t-shirt. "Get rid of this."

"Why?"

"You'll like what happens after."

I like it already. I pull my t-shirt over my head and watch as his eyes go wide with desire. "We've never had sex in a limo."

"Better change that." He unhooks my bra and slides it off my shoulders. "You still look nervous."

"I am."

He smiles. "You trust me."

"Miles, you're supposed to be rocking my world with passion. No conversations about the future of our relationship."

"How should I be using my mouth?"

I turn my head, offering my neck to him. His hands go to my hips. He pulls me closer as he presses his lips against my skin. It's a flutter of a kiss. The softness sends heat racing through my body.

My thoughts have been running in circles for the last two days.

I need this break. I need to stop thinking and feel.

There's no patience in my movements. I tug his t-shirt over his head. Then my hands are on the hard muscles of his chest. His lips are on my neck. He kisses harder. Lower. His lips trail over my shoulders. My collarbone. My chest.

He kisses every inch of my new tattoo. "Fuck, this is the sexiest thing I've ever seen."

"Show me."

His eyes connect with mine. "Gonna be fast."

"Good." I shift onto my knees so I can unzip my jeans and slide them off my hips.

Miles takes over. He pulls my jeans off my feet. Then it's his jeans at his knees. His boxers.

Damn, he looks as yummy as ever sitting there, waiting for me to mount him.

I plant my knees outside his thighs, bringing my body onto his. No more thinking. Right now, I want to feel how much my body needs his. How much my heart needs his.

He presses his palm against my sex. "Fuck. You're wet."

I nod.

His hands go to my ass. He watches my expression as he pulls my body onto his. His cock strains against me. Then he's inside me, stretching me, filling me.

My hands go to his shoulders. I stare back at him.
This
is where I belong. If only we could skip the rest of the world. No work, no friends, no family, no ceremonies of any kind.

Nothing but our bodies joining again and again.

I lean down to press my lips to his. He tastes good. Like toothpaste and like Miles. His tongue is as hungry as mine is. He kisses me like he's never kissed me before.

My love for him overwhelms me. I feel so fucking whole when we're joined like this.

We belong together.

We'll figure the rest out.

I rock my hips to meet his movements, pushing him deeper. My thoughts fade away as he thrusts into me.

He moves deeper. Harder.

Pleasure collects in my core. I squeeze his shoulders and break the kiss so he can work me properly. His mouth goes to my chest. His tongue flicks against my nipple, sending pangs of pleasure through my torso. Again. Again. Again.

My sex clenches. I'm getting there. But I want more.

I bring my mouth to his ear. "Rub me."

He groans with pleasure at the command. His hand goes right to my thigh. He rubs my clit with his thumb.

Fuck. That feels good. He always takes care of me. Here. And everywhere else.

He kisses his way up my chest and neck. Then his lips are on mine. The kiss is equal parts tender and hot.

Affection pours between us. We're already pressed together, but still, I want him closer. Deeper. I press my palms against his back and pull him closer.

I spread my knees wider so he can go deeper.

"Mhmmm." Miles groans. His fingers dig into the flesh of my ass. He holds my body against his as he drives deeper. Harder.

Pleasure overwhelms me. Almost.

I spread a little wider. Shift a little closer.

His mouth goes to my chest. He sucks hard. His groans vibrate against my skin. It's like this is the only way he can contain himself.

I surrender to the sensation of our bodies joining. He has all of me. I have all of him.

That's what matters.

The tension inside me builds to a fever pitch. With his next thrust, I tumble into an orgasm.

"Miles," I groan. Pleasure spills through my limbs, all the way to my fingers and toes.

My sex pulses around him, pulling him closer.

He's almost there. I can feel it in the fast movements of his hips, in the way his chest and stomach muscles tense.

He sucks hard on my nipple. Then it's teeth. He bites just hard enough it feels amazing.

I tug at his hair so I can manage the sensation.

With his next thrust, an orgasm overtakes him. He groans against my skin. He digs his nails into my hips. He thrusts into me, his cock pulsing as he fills me.

We stay pressed together until we arrive.

We're here. At the venue.

It has to be perfect. I don't want to wait.

I want to marry him as soon as possible.

––––––––

M
egara

My eyes go wide. It's perfect.

The courtyard is bathed in bright sunlight. Ribbons of chiffon flow from the altar in the center out to the edges of the room.

Right now, everything is decorated with white and pink. White chiffon, white ribbons, soft pink rose petals.

But it can be purple.

It's going to be purple for our ceremony.

The coordinator, Candy, shows us pictures of other ceremonies they've performed. There are dozens of different color schemes, dozens of styles. Some are busier, louder. Some are simpler.