Page 10 of Tempting Miles
What would Mami Luz do?
At thirty-five, she was already a mom and had been married for at least fifteen years. She was an adult-adult.
When I look at myself in the mirror, I still see the determined twenty-something girl who dreamed of one day running her daddy’s empire. Young, beautiful, wealthy. I thought I had the world at my feet.
And in a way, I still do. But that’s no longer enough.
Like clockwork, the moment I get home, I kick off my heels and pad into the living room, where I sit and massage my feet. Then I head to my primary bathroom—my favorite room in my apartment—and take off my jewelry. I start theshower, and while I wait for the water to reach the perfect temperature, I remove my makeup.
I notice I have a voicemail and press play, instantly regretting it.
“Unfortunately, the claim was denied again…” the pharmacy representative says before I pause the message with a frustrated grunt. I’m absolutely over this nonsense.
I make a reminder to deal with it first thing in the morning. If I have to pay out of pocket to get it handled, so be it.
No one should have to go without medication because of greedy corporations.
After a few calming breaths, I’m finally ready for a glorious shower.
I have eight jet sprays hitting my body in different directions. I’d never confirm nor deny that on more than one occasion, these jets have brought me close to orgasm.
Orgasm.
There’s that damn word again.
Does this man have a golden dick or something? I’ve never been so hung up on a one-and-done in my life.
Yeah, Penny. But you also had never seen one of your hookups again. Let alone work with him.
Ugh. I shake my head, trying to push the thought of Miles MacAllister and his devilishly handsome grin out of my mind, but I know it’s impossible. I’ve tried multiple times, with no luck.
Once I’ve washed the day off, I wrap my hair in a bonnet, and after drying off, I apply moisturizer all over.
I sigh happily as the luxurious lotion spreads across my long legs. Oh, Cotton Candy Clouds, I could kiss you.
Choosing a delicate set of silky pajamas, I head to the kitchen where I warm up one of the pre-packed meals my chef leaves in the fridge for me. Javi has been cooking for me for at least five years, and I adore him.
I met him through my finance friends. When I started managing Gio’s finances, I spent a lot of time in the trade district here in Charlotte and ended up building a solid circle. One day, while we were trying to close a deal, a guy I knew there—Marco—shared his lunch with me, and it was a full-on food awakening. Luckily, Javi cooks for several clients and had room to take me on. I’ve been living my best life ever since.
As the food heats up, I head back to the bathroom and go through my skincare routine—my favorite part of the day. It’s the one time I slow down and just take care of myself. I don’t rush; I give each step a moment, letting everything sink in before moving on to the next.
By the time I’m done, I’m so relaxed that if I wasn’t starving, I’d crawl straight into bed.
I set up my spot in the living room—silverware, a glass of wine, food plated just right. Then I turn on the TV and watch whatever’s playing on the Hallmark Channel. The plots arepredictable, but I still fall for the hero every single time and root for the love story like maybe this one will end differently.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here, but my food and wine are long gone. It must’ve been at least an hour. Usually, this is when I’d head to bed, call it a night, and do it all over again tomorrow.
But something Miles said earlier keeps replaying in my head.
He wanted to go out. I overheard him talking with Steve and Jason—two of the construction workers—about heading to Pine Knoll for a pint or two.
Isn’t he tired?
By the time I get there at eight thirty, he’s already been working for at least an hour, if not longer. And it’s not like he just supervises—he’s out there doing the work too, handling orders, materials, everything.
A picture of sweaty Miles forms in my head. His muscles flexing under his tight shirt. The way his legs fill out his pants.
And that ass—
