“There’s another issue,” I say, wincing. “I don’t have any money, Miles. I spent two month’s allowance on this dress. I have no savings. And unfortunately, you had to clear out all of yours to help me.”
I bite my lip, feeling sick inside. I’m incredibly grateful for what Miles did for me, but I’ve never been able to shake the guilt of costing him all that money, all those years of work. I don’t see how he can pursue his dream of becoming a broker and producer if our combined net worth is one green dress.
Miles just laughs, as unconcerned as ever.
“Let me show you something,” he says, pulling out his phone. He opens a strange little app with a plain green block as its icon.
Inside I see a digital counter, increasing by a fractional amount every second.
“What is that?” I ask, frowning.
“When I made the deal with your father, the Princes, and the Malina, we all agreed that the three parties would split the profit evenly three ways. On top of that, the Malina would take ten percent for the service of exchanging Bitcoin for washed American dollars.”
I nod, following so far. Miles explained that to me before.
“In addition, the Bitcoin wallet charges a fee of one percent.”
I nod again, still not understanding.
“I’m the Bitcoin wallet,” Miles says.
I stare at him, at his laughing, mischievous face.
“You’re taking one percent?”
“I have been the whole time. I didn’t mention it at the meeting, because I wanted to make sure I got what I really wanted, which was you and Cat free of your father’s bullshit plans. Nobody asked about the Bitcoin wallet—it’s a reasonable fee. Generous, even.”
I look at the number again, finally understanding. There’s already $187,962 in the account. And, as I watch, an additional $1.53 added in the space of a minute. The money rolls in, bit by bit, skimmed off the vast sum flowing to the Malina, my father, and the Princes.
“It’s enough to get us started,” Miles says.
I shake my head at him in wonder.
“Always working an angle.”
He shrugs. “I can’t help it. I’m just so damn good at making money.”
He hasn’t given up on his central point.
“Will you come with me, Zoe? From here straight to L.A.?”
I look in that handsome, determined face. A face I fucking love. I face I could never say no to.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I would love to come.”
Miles sweeps me up in his arms, kissing me over and over again.
Kissing turns to running his hands down my body in the thin, clinging gown.
“Come here,” he growls, pulling me into the next room.
We’re in a quiet, dark space where the far wall is one vast plate of glass, looking into a tank full of jellyfish. Their floating bells and trailing tentacles drift peacefully through the water, the transparent bodies tinted with shades of pink, yellow, and blue.
Miles pulls me down on the closest bench, making me straddle his lap so the gown pulls up high on my thighs. He grips my waist, grinding me against him so I can feel how hard his cock is, like an iron bar laying down the leg of his trousers.
He kisses me deeply, exploring my mouth with his tongue.
Then he slowly massages my thighs, using his big, warm hands to wake up the muscles, to send blood surging through my body. He knows exactly what he’s doing. As the neurons in my legs come alive, my pussy begins to throb, as if it too has come out of slumber. It aches to be touched. I want his fingers stroking me there and everywhere. I’m hungry and greedy for this man.
Now I’m grinding against Miles of my own accord, pressing my whole body against him, sucking and biting on his lips.
Miles unzips his pants and releases his cock. He pulls my underwear to the side and pushes his cock inside of me. There’s something so hot about him fucking me without undressing me, too eager to even take my panties off.
My skirt somewhat hides what we’re doing, but there’s no way anyone could be confused about the way I’m bouncing up and down on his lap, my legs wrapped around his waist, my hands tangled in his hair. Someone could walk through here any minute and I don’t give a fuck, I have to have him right now, I can’t stop riding him.
Miles puts his hands under my ass and stands, lifting me in the air. He carries me over to the aquarium window, pressing my back against the cool glass. Now he has leverage to fuck me as hard as he wants, using his powerful legs to drive into me. I’m sandwiched between the cold glass and his burning body.
I press my face against his neck, smelling his cologne and whatever he uses to tame those curls, the scent of his skin and his sweat. An intoxicating cocktail. My head reels. I lick the sweat off the side of his neck, and then lick his ear as well, sucking the lobe and biting it hard between my teeth.
“You naughty fucking girl,” Miles grows, driving into me harder and harder.
His fingers dig into my ass. The friction of my pulled-aside panties rubbing on my clit is driving me wild. It’s rough and almost too much. But nothing is ever too much with Miles. I can never get enough.
“Fuck me harder,” I beg him. “I want your cum dripping out of me the rest of the night.”
“You’re crazy,” he groans, and I know that he loves it, I know that he saw that spark of madness in me that very first day up on the wall. He knew that I wasn’t as quiet and controlled as I seemed, and he loved me for it, he wanted to unleash that in me all the more.
I want that, too. I want to be as bold as Miles, as brave as him. I want to go after everything I want in life without fear or hesitation.
“Make me cum and I’ll go anywhere in the world with you,” I promise him.
Miles pins me against the glass, fucking me senseless. I cum hard and fast, deep inside me in the place that only Miles can find, the only place that satisfies. As soon as he hears me moaning out, “That’s it, oh my god that’s it,” Miles cums too. That’s how I want it, that’s how I always want it — together, perfectly in sync.
We collapse against the glass, Miles still inside of me. He kisses the side of my neck, sending shivers down my body as if we didn’t just fuck. I want him again already, before he’s even pulled out.
“You make me so happy,” he says, pressing his forehead against mine.
“You’ve changed my whole life,” I tell him in return.
When we’ve tidied ourselves up enough to avoid rousing suspicion, Miles and I return to the party. Cat flops down at our table, exhausted from dancing with Dario Gallo, Caleb Griffin, and Teddy Boone in quick succession.
Miles goes to get drinks.
I take the opportunity to speak with Cat while we’re alone.
I tell her that Miles wants me to move to Los Angeles with him. I tell her that I’m thinking of going.
Cat listens, her big dark eyes already tugging at my heart.
“I want to go,” I say. “But I don’t want to leave you. I’m worried about you going back to school on your own.”
Cat sighs and gives me a small smile. “I’m going to miss you, Zo,” she says. “But you have to go.”
“I don’t have to . . .”
“Yes you do. You never know how much time you have to do things. None of us know. You can’t waste another two years babysitting me.”