Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
“Sweet Virgin Mary,” Micah hisses, ripping his hand away from the water. I’m watching him like I’m behind a foggy shower door. It feels like life is happening to me while someone controls my body.
“What?” I ask, and it’s like hearing my voice on a recording. I feel out of control. I’ve lost all control. Mr. Parker, Arthur, and Micah. Nothing I try is working. He doesn’t even want me to suck him off.
My face burns.
Micah glances back at me like he’s surprised I’m talking. His pupils widen, and he says, “Sorry, trying not to burn you.”
Right. A shower. He’s fixing me a shower.
Immediately, I feel a tightening in my gut. I can do that for myself. Not only that, I should be the one doing that for him. It’s manipulation 101, and he’s the one doing it, not me.
“I’m sorry,” I say again. My cheeks heat with shame. Micah turned me down. I pressed him and got the wrong answer. Is there even a right answer with Micah?
That nagging, throbbing question in my mind is back with a vengeance. What if Micah isn’t playing a game? Nothing is adding up. He’s had multiple opportunities to take what he wants from me, and he just keeps refusing.
What if Micah is just a sweet, kind man?
I feel like I’m going to throw up. Because Micah can’t be that. If he is, I’ve been treating him like shit this whole time.
“Take your shirt off,” Micah says.
Automatically, I obey.
Micah pulls a towel off the rack and folds it up by the shower. Slowly, so slowly, I realize it’s a rubber ducky towel. That odd detail snaps me back into focus a little.
“You gonna be okay?”
I blink. Am I going to be okay? Why does a grown man have a rubber ducky towel? Is that some sort of sign that he’s toxic?
My mind is stuck in a fog while my brain screams to fix this. I need to snap myself out of this, and scalding hot water might help.
So, I strip the rest of the way and step into the shower.
There’s an intake of air, and I glance up to see that Micah is turned away from me, facing the doorway.
Right. ‘Cause now I’m fully naked in front of him. Now’s when he’ll come and take what he wants from me. Demand my holes. Use me like a toy. Or maybe beat me while I’m vulnerable.
And yet, somehow I can’t get up the energy to care.
“I uh…I can go,” Micah says.
I blink. He’s offering to leave? What the fuck?
I turn to see him still facing away, and then a bolt of anger hits me. Nothing he does makes any sense. Why the fuck can’t I make sense of him?
“Do you want to go?” I ask. I need a real answer from him. Something, anything real.
Micah doesn’t turn around, but his answer is immediate. “No.”
That seemed real.
And yet, he stands there. Like all the power is in my hands. Like he’s waiting for me to tell him what to do. Like I’m in control.
For a second, my heart skips a beat in my chest. What if I am? What if he really is nice?
My brain screams no, that this is a trap, but my body is weak. Suddenly, all I want is to see if Micah will let me be in control again. If he’ll come in here and give up all choices to me.
Mistake! Danger! Run!
My mind screams, but my body doesn’t listen. My dick is hard, still throbbing from earlier. And then, my body follows my stupid, stupid body, ignoring my head, and I step back in the shower, making room for Micah to join me.