Chapter 20 Kellan
Kellan
I shoulder the apartment door shut behind me and the silence slams down on me. Rehearsal bled into overtime with a new set list, a new lighting rig, new everything, and every second of it my skin crawled two sizes too tight.
The first thing I notice is that Micah’s scent is gone from the hallway.
No whiskey warmth curls around the corners.
No vanilla tucks into the couch cushions.
I knew his scent would disappear a little when he went home to grab some clothes but fuck, I thought he would have been home by now. He hasn’t even sent a text.
I toe off my boots, peel the sweat-damp shirt over my head, and let it drop wherever it lands. Socks, belt, jeans. Everything goes straight into the washer because I can’t stand the idea of Micah coming home to my stink layered on top of his own.
The cold tile bites the soles of my feet as I pad naked to my room. My cock hangs half-hard and heavy between my thighs. It has been like this since this morning: a low, relentless throb that no amount of Dr. Pepper or drum solos could kill.
I sit on the edge of the mattress and finally wrap my fist around myself.
The first stroke drags a groan out of me that rattles the windows.
I leak like a broken faucet. Precum slicks my palm and turns every slow drag into a wet glide.
My head falls back, my eyes sliding shut.
The only picture behind my lids is Micah.
Micah’s mouth. Those plush lips stretched around a water bottle earlier today.
His throat working as he swallows. Micah’s hands.
Big and calloused. Micah’s bare chest. The scar I kissed last night.
I think about the way he looked while I was on my knees for him.
His cast propped awkwardly on the bed. I think about the noise he made when I swallowed him down, like I handed him the entire world on my tongue.
My hips punch up into my fist. “Micah,” I rasp, and the name tastes like rum and smoke.
I am close already, embarrassingly close.
My thighs shake as heat coils tight at the base of my spine.
Another twist of my wrist as my thumb swipes over the head and I come.
Thick ropes stripe my abs and my chest, one shot hitting my chin.
The orgasm rolls through me hard enough that my vision tunnels, but when the static clears I look down and my cock is still rigid, flushed darker, twitching against my stomach like I didn’t just empty myself.
“What the fuck,” I growl at it, my voice shredded.
My balls feel heavier than before, drawn up tight and aching.
I try again, stroking myself faster and harder.
I picture sinking into Micah’s body. That thick ass clenching around me.
The slap of skin on skin. His back arching as my name punches out of him on every thrust.
The fantasy should finish me, but the edge keeps dancing away. Sweat drips off my jaw. A frustrated grunt tears loose just as the faintest ribbon of whiskey-vanilla drifts under the door.
I smell him before I see him. My head snaps toward the doorway. Micah standing there with one eyebrow raised, his lips parted, and his pupils blown wide, his nostrils flared as he breathes me in.
I push to my feet before I can stop myself and cross the room in three strides. My hand finds his jaw, my thumb pressing the corner of that mouth I have been jerking off to. I drag him into a kiss that is more teeth than lips at first. I groan into him like a dying man.
“Kellan,” he says against my mouth, voice soft, almost worried. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t fucking know.” The words scrape out of me. “Been hard since I woke up. Came once already and it didn’t take. I feel like shit, like I’m burning from the inside.”
Micah’s good hand slides up my chest. His palm settles over my heart as he tilts his head. “When did you last have a rut?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
He huffs a laugh that is half fond, half exasperated.
“I work with Alphas every day, Kel. Big tough guys who forget to eat, forget to sleep, forget they’ve got a body that needs more than caffeine and adrenaline.
Their systems go haywire. Fever, aches, nonstop boner that won’t quit until someone lets them knot them or they pass out trying.
” His eyes flick down to where my cock leaks against his denim-covered thigh, then back up. “When was your last one?”
I swallow. My brain feels syrupy. “Never. I don’t think. Not like this. Started this morning, maybe.”
Micah’s grin turns devilish. “Well then. I think I can return the favor.”
He sinks to his knees right there on the carpet. The sight of him looking up at me nearly takes me out at the knees. His lips brush the head of my cock and I stumble forward a step.
“Easy,” he murmurs, steadying me with one hand on my hip. Then he opens his mouth and takes me in.
The heat is staggering. Wet, tight, perfect suction slides down until his nose brushes my pelvis.
My hands fly to his hair, my fingers threading through the short strands at his nape.
He hums, and the vibration rips a curse from my throat.
Micah works me over, his tongue swirling under the crown.
His cheeks hollow and his throat relaxes to let me nudge deeper.
Every pull drags me closer to the edge I couldn’t find alone.
I last maybe ninety seconds. My hips snap forward once, twice. I come again, harder than before. My vision whites out as I flood his mouth and he swallows around me, greedy, until I am shaking and spent.
Micah pulls off with a soft pop. His lips shine with my release, my cum dripping down his chin as he looks up at me, his eyes dark with lust. “Fuck, you need more, don’t you?”
I nod, already stroking myself again. My cock stays rigid and oversensitive. The rut is a living thing under my skin, clawing for release that keeps slipping away.
Micah rises slowly. He presses his forehead to mine as his good hand cups my jaw, his thumb stroking the stubble there. “Then fuck me, Kel.” His voice drops to a whisper that trembles with want and something deeper. “If all of this means more than just some contract with your label… prove it.”
The words detonate inside my chest. I kiss him again, slower this time. I taste myself on his tongue. I taste the truth he just handed me. I need inside him. I need to prove it. I need him to feel every ounce of what I can’t say yet.
Micah’s grin against my lips is soft, before pushing me back a step. “Bed, rockstar. Let me help you with your rut.”