Chapter 203

Hugo’s words sit with me for the rest of the day.

Childishly, I don’t want to be the one to reach out to Miles. He should be the one to apologize first, and I did say I would never forgive him. I don’t want to go back on that so easily.

But… I also want my job back. I miss helping on the campaign, and I miss Miles.

Besides, even if I’m the first to reach out, that doesn’t mean he won’t apologize. It only means that he’s even more stubborn than me.

So, by the evening, while my daughters are staying over at a friend’s house, I text Miles.

Can we have a meeting?

Thirty seconds later, the doorbell rings. That’s strange. Miles’s new security typically blocks any strangers from ringing the bell. The only people with permission to come to the door unobstructed are Iris, Violet, Garnar, Cynthia, and Miles himself.

It could be one of my daughters. Maybe she was having a bad time at the sleepover and had the friend’s mom drop her off.

Hurrying to the front door, I pull it open.

Miles stands there, his phone in his hand. “You wanted a meeting.”

For him to have gotten here so fast means that he had to already been on his way. This knowledge eases some of the sting of having had been the first person to reach out. It also fills me with a measure of confidence: Miles likely missed me too.

“Come in,” I tell him, stepping back from the door. After he enters, I close the door behind him.

For a moment, we stare at each other in the foyer, neither saying a word.

Abject relief fills me, being in his presence. It’s so powerful that I suppose I didn’t realize just how much I missed him until he was standing in front of me.

But we can’t stare at each other all evening. That would accomplish nothing.

“Do you want coffee? I’ll make coffee,” I say, turning.

I take only one step before Miles’s strong arms wrap around me from behind. He gently pulls me against him, so that my back lines his chest. Closing my eyes, I relax as even more relief fills me.

“I hated today,” he says.

“This is your fault,” I remind him.

He doesn’t deny that. “I like seeing you every day.”

I like that too, but I’m mad enough to keep that to myself.

At least, I think I am.

The moment he drops his mouth to the corner of my neck and shoulder and starts sucking in a mark, I’m not so sure I’m all that mad anymore.

I tilt my head away, giving him more access. He takes it, kissing and sucking marks up the entire column of my throat. At my jawline, he lifts his head slightly, bringing his mouth to my ear.

“Esther… I need you…”

Who am I to deny a man what he needs?

“One fight doesn’t mean you’ve lost me,” I whisper. Placing my hands over his hands on my waist, I slowly start to guide them up. “I never stopped being yours, Miles.”

I guide his hands over my breasts. He squeezes as he hums appreciatively. I’m in my pajamas already, so I’m not wearing a bra. When my nipples peak, he can certainly feel them pressing into the meat of his palm.

“Fuck,” he curses. “Esther…”

“We’d be more comfortable in the bedroom,” I say, struggling to hold onto coherent thought, when his dick is twitching, hardening against my backside.

“Your mouth first,” he growls as he spins me in his arms.

I think he wants me to suck him off – which I’m not opposed to – but instead, he crashes his lips over mine and devours my mouth, pushing his tongue inside.

He kisses like a starving man, finally tasting the forbidden fruit. He’s all-encompassing, with a bit of teeth, as his hands grab my ass. He lifts me up against him, so I wrap my arms around his waist.

Hobbling, he starts carrying me toward my bedroom. We stop on the way twice, where he pushes me up against the wall to kiss me deeply again.

On the second stop, we accidentally knock over a landscape picture I had hung on the way.

Miles glances down at it in shock, but I touch his cheek, turning his attention back to me.

I bought that picture for ten dollars at a yard sale. But even if it had been priceless, I wouldn’t have cared in this moment.

All I wanted… All I could see… was Miles.

“Don’t stop,” I say and kiss him this time.

He hums, pleased, against my lips.

As he continues, I work at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to get this show on the road.

When we reach the bed, he drops me unceremoniously onto it. Before I even finish bouncing, I yank my pajama top up over my head and tossed it aside. My pants, I remove just as quickly, tugging my panties off too at the same time.

His clothing is more complicated, and takes him time to remove his button-up shirt and black slacks. When he does, pulling down his boxers too, his dick is fully hard.

His eyes drag over my naked body as I drag mine over his.

When his gaze reaches the apex of my thighs, I spread my legs, allowing him to see just how wet I am for him.

“Esther…”

“Come and get it, Miles,” I tease.

And he does, first with his mouth, then with his hands, and finally, with his throbbing cock.

Hours later, after we step out of the shower, finally washing away the sweat and spend of our rigorous activities, Miles kisses me softly on the mouth and says, “Maybe I can come over more often…”

My heart sinks slightly. He means to only see me after work from now on, not during work hours. Yet as much as this hurts, it also steels my resolve.

Miles naked is a distraction, but I still remember the purpose for this meeting I wanted.

“Or… you could give me my job back.”

His good mood sours in an instant. Searching my face, he seems to come to a realization. “This is why you wanted a meeting.”

“I’ve missed you, Miles. That isn’t a ruse. But I won’t pretend like I didn’t want to talk to you about this.”

His face hardens as he steps back from me. He moves out of the bathroom, collecting his clothes off the floor. His old clothes, not the pajamas that he knows are waiting for him in my drawer.

I follow him. “Miles. What are you doing?”

“I’m dressing,” he says, kicking his legs into his pants, not bothering with his boxers.

“Why?”

“I’m leaving.”

Quickly, I grab a towel, wrapping it around myself. This isn’t a conversation to have naked. Then I rush toward him. Touching his wrist, I stop him from fixing any more buttons on his shirt.

“We have to talk about this,” I say.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Miles replies. “I made my decision and I’m going to hold to it, no matter what you say to try to convince me otherwise.”

His shirt still unbuttoned, he heads toward the door. He makes it to the doorway, when I burst out, “If Edward wins the election, he will come for me, and for you.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” I say. “Daphne told me, when I spoke with her today.”

That, finally makes Miles stop. From the doorway, he turns to look at me.

“She heard it, straight from his own mouth. Edward’s furious at me, Miles. He might pretend for a while, but in the end, he’s never going to let me go.”