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loosely.  In the next, his fly was down and he was pushing both his pants and his boxer briefs down impatiently.
    And... wow .
    Thick.  Rigid.  Long.  She blinked, certain she was hallucinating.
    Then she whimpered.
    A wicked smile graced that incredibly talented mouth as he sheathed himself.  “Keep looking at me like that, birthday girl.  Just like that.”
    Miles stepped up and placed his big, warm hands at her waist even as she felt him prodding at her core.  “Say yes, birthday girl.  I need to hear it.”
    “Yessss,” she somehow managed.
    Miles pushed forward, impaling her in one swift, slick thrust.  She was already so primed and ready that despite his size, she felt no pain whatsoever.  Just bliss and a sense of incredible fullness.
    “Fuck, you feel good.”
    He moved slowly.  At first she thought it was to allow her to grow accustomed to him, but then she noticed the tendons visible in his neck and the way his corded muscles were straining against his skin.  Knowing that he was so close to the edge intensified her own pleasure. 
    She flexed and squeezed her internal muscles – finally those damn Kegels came in handy! – eliciting a groan. 
    “Stop that,” he chastised, punctuating the request with a solid thrust, “or I’m not going to be able to make that third wish come true.”
    She didn’t stop.  She wanted him just as desperate as she was; he had a lot of catching up to do. 
    “Jesus, woman,” he bit out, sending added thrills through her.
    The strength and speed of his strokes increased, and incredibly, she was at that peak again. 
    “Miles!” she screamed.  One hard thrust and he pushed her right over the edge again, only this time, she took him with her.
    * * *

    T here it was.  His name on her lips as he pulsed inside of her.  He leaned his forehead against hers. 
    He had planned to make it last a little longer, but damn, the woman had some impressive inner muscles.  He couldn’t remember when the last time was he had come quite so quickly.  Or so hard.
    “Happy Birthday, Liz.”
    Miles gently extracted himself.  After discreetly taking care of the condom, he turned around to find Liz already putting herself back together.  He took great pride in the fact that she seemed to be a little shaky while doing so.
    “Thanks,” she said.  Something in her tone had him looking up sharply. 
    “Thanks?” he repeated.  Why wasn’t she looking at him?
    “Yeah, thanks,” she said, clearing her throat.  “For bringing me home.  For sharing a cupcake with me.  And for ... that.”
    That awed, I-just-had-incredible-sex vibe faded rapidly.  Something was wrong.  He narrowed his eyes.  “Liz?”
    When she looked at him, it was with such a look of shame that his gut clenched.  No woman had ever looked at him like that after sex.  Drunk with pleasure?  Sure.  Sated and boneless?  Definitely.  But ashamed?  Never.
    “For the pity fu-.  Well, you know.  And for proving your point so eloquently.  I’m going to bed now.  Would you mind showing yourself out?”  Liz paused before leaving the kitchen.  “And Miles?  I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to Adam, okay?”
    Then she was gone, leaving him standing there alone and feeling like he’d just been cold-cocked upside the head with a two-by-four.  What the hell?
    The soft sound of her bedroom door closing roused him.  Feeling more than a little confused, Miles walked to the foyer, grabbed his coat, and let himself out.  A quick check of the door knob confirmed that it had locked behind him.  He stood on the small porch for a moment, then shook his head.
    Climbing into his rented SUV, he drove quietly back to Adam’s, trying to figure out just what the hell had happened.

Chapter 8
 
    F or about the hundredth time that morning, Liz closed her eyes and groaned.  What had she done?
    You had hot, sweaty sex with Miles Grayson , the little guardian angel on her left shoulder whispered