Chapter Sixteen #3
I’m sure watching her beloved business almost go up in flames was a traumatic experience, and no one deserves that, not even Kelly. So I hug her back.
Once Kelly is good, I reunite with Micah to head upstairs for our things, but Slater calls my name.
“Hey, sorry about all this.” He looks around for listening ears before continuing.
“I would say you guys could stay at your new house, but I’m having work done to the HVAC system, so it’s not really comfortable there right now.
Want me to help you find somewhere else? ”
Micah looks up from his phone, smiling at Slater. “I got it handled, but thanks, man.”
News to me, but okay.
We say our goodbyes as we finish climbing the stairs. “You got it handled?”
He has a gleam in his eye. “Trust me.”
The view from the Viceroy is gorgeous.
When Micah said he had it handled, I did not think he meant booking us a penthouse suite.
“Micah, this is incredible,” I tell him.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says.
“What made you bring us here, though? You’re not usually a flashy kind of guy.”
He pins me with a stare that sets my body aflame. “I thought you’d like it. I don’t know if we’ll get a chance to have dinner at the Hancock building this trip, so I wanted you to have your nice view in some other way.”
“And to think, yesterday you didn’t even want to share a room with me.”
He scoffs. “Get your facts straight, Dani. I was just following your lead.”
He steps toward me, and I don’t know what makes me do it, but I step back.
The move makes him freeze in place. I was so sure mere hours ago. My body is still sure, but that fire alarm allowed my head to fill with doubts. I can see it’s too late for me to say anything. Micah has retreated back behind the boundaries I set.
Fuck.
My phone rings and I yank it out of my pocket.
Micah peeks and chuckles, unamused. “Myomari’s calling.”
Oh my God, give me a break. When is the last time I even talked to Omari? He’s texted a few times since he last stayed at my place, but they’ve all gone unanswered. I silence the call. “Thanks,” I murmur.
“Don’t feel like talking tonight?”
“Not really.”
“How come?”
I sigh. “We don’t have anything to talk about, really.”
There’s only one person my body is humming for and I’m royally fucking up my chances there.
“Why can’t you tell him you’re not interested, then? I can’t see you being in a relationship with a finance bro, no offense.”
“I can’t see me being in a relationship with anyone,” I exhale.
That stops him in his tracks. “What?”
Our eyes meet and I hold strong. “I just don’t see the point. I’m never gonna fall in love, so why waste someone’s time, and my own, just to say I’m in a relationship?”
His frown grows deeper. “So, you’re saying you don’t believe in love?”
“No, I believe in love. I see it every day when I look at my parents. Even when I look at Rome and Nelle. I know it’s out there. I just don’t think it’s out there for me.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I don’t think I’m capable of letting my guard down enough to find it.”
The city of Chicago looks up at me from my hotel room window and I smile before lifting my head to let the sun’s rays kiss my cheek.
The view is beautiful and the bed is luxuriously comfortable.
I roll my neck and put on the complimentary hotel robe before stepping out of my room in search of coffee.
We retreated to our rooms pretty quickly after the Omari conversation last night, so I wasn’t expecting for him to be sitting on the couch sketching this early.
“Good morning.” I try to keep my eyes off his shirtless frame.
His grin tells me I’ve failed. “Morning. Was the bed everything you dreamed of?”
“And then some.”
“Great.”
“You think we should go look at the house today?” I’m both excited and nervous to see it. To see a life Tanya almost had here. If she had taken that job and married Roger, we wouldn’t be sitting here today. We never would’ve met Tanya to begin with.
“Actually, if you don’t mind staying another day, I thought we could go look at the house tomorrow,” he says.
“Oh, sure. Is there something else we need to do today?”
“Not ‘we.’” The phrase adds another foot of distance to the flimsy bridge between us. “I was gonna go out and take some pictures. Just to clear my head.”
And now I feel like shit. I’ve probably given him so much whiplash because my body and my head can’t get on the same fucking page. I don’t argue. He needs his space and all I can do is give him that.
Hours later, he’s still not back. I’ve been confined to these walls all day. I could’ve spent the day out, and maybe I should have, but I moved my body from the couch only when room service arrived.
My mind is crowded with thoughts of Micah. Where is he? Is he out with someone? Is he even coming back tonight?
Stop holding yourself back from all the things you want. Just let go. Let go of all your inhibitions.
Slowly, I trail my fingers down my body, imagining they’re Micah’s calloused hands.
A moan escapes my lips the moment my fingers make contact with my nipple. I tweak it until it starts to pebble.
How would Micah do this? He’d make me suck his finger first so that the cool air on his wet finger would drive me crazy as it swirled around my nipple.
I run my finger back up to my mouth, swirling my tongue around it in soft, lazy circles, releasing it with a pop.
I suck in a breath at the cool sensation against my nipple.
Reaching my other hand up to take care of the other one, I flick it a few times because Micah would never let me get too comfortable.
Torturing me with the delicious balance of pleasure and pain.
Biting my lip to keep the volume of my moans down, I let my fingers find their way down my stomach and into my shorts. Pushing my panties to the side, I’m already wet for him.
If this were him, he’d take his time swirling his finger around my clit, making me dizzy with need before finally slipping at least two fingers inside of me. The sounds of my wetness fill the room, and I sink farther into the couch, pressing my feet into the cushions to keep myself grounded.
This isn’t enough. It’s good, damn good, but I need him. I need the flat of his tongue against my clit and the weight of his fingers inside me.
The pressure of my thumb forces a guttural groan from me at the same exact time the door swings open.
I freeze in place, my hands still in my shorts and my nipples exposed.
Fuck. I don’t have to lift my head to know Micah is staring at my mostly naked body, fully aware of what I was doing. Why didn’t I bring a damn blanket out here so I could at least cover up?
I hear the sounds of his heavy footsteps heading my way, but instead of approaching me, they pass me. A bag hits the kitchen counter and the fridge opens. I stay as still as possible, not wanting to bring the slightest bit of attention to myself while Micah opens what sounds like a bottle of soda.
“Don’t stop on my account. Good night,” he says, his footsteps retreating to his room.
What. The. Fuck?
I slip my fingers out and put my panties and shirt back in place. I’m frozen.
I want to go back to my room. But if I do that, he’ll know what I’m doing and that doesn’t sit right with me, even though it shouldn’t matter because he’s already been given a show.
This was supposed to take some of the pressure off, but now I’ve made it worse. And to top it all off, I’m left here frustrated and unsatisfied.
My breath hitches when Micah’s door opens again. I silently beg him to put me out of my misery and stay in his room for the rest of the night, but his footsteps continue growing louder, more focused.
“What do you want, Dani?” he asks in a husky voice.
I look up at him and the ravenous look on his face has me clenching my core. “What do you mean?” My voice quivers.
“Do you want to come?”
I bite my lip. I desperately do.
“Answer me, Storm,” he barks.
“Yes.”
He sinks to his knees behind me, his lips resting on the shell of my ear. “Then put your fingers back inside your pretty little pussy and start again.”
Just the sound of his voice when he’s like this has me close. I lift my hips off the couch so I can pull my shorts and panties down. I want him to see what he’s doing to me.
“Shirt too,” he demands.
I lift the tank top over my head and throw it across the room.
“Good. Now, what are you waiting for? Make yourself come, Dani.”
My fingers slip inside my pussy again, and this time I add a third, trying to stretch myself the way he would. I pump my fingers in and out, alternating between fast and slow strokes.
He makes a tsk sound in my ear, and I bite my lip until it almost bleeds. “Is that how I would do it, Dani?”
Oh fuck.
“Is that how I would fuck you?”
No. He’d make me fuck him back. Slamming my pussy down on his fingers or his face, taking as much as I was being given. “No,” I whimper.
“Then do it right or don’t do it at all.”
I swirl my hips around in circles, lifting them off the couch again to meet my fingers, thrust for thrust.
“How does it feel?” he asks.
“Good. So good,” I say in between pants.
He stands up and my breath catches in my throat at the thought of him leaving me, but then he walks around the couch so that he has a front-row view of my dripping pussy. “We can do better than that, can’t we?”
God, yes, we can. I nod. I want him to touch me. I want my fingers replaced with his. I want the softness of his lips and the roughness of his beard. I want the curve of his dick.
Shit. My head flies back to the arm of the couch.
The couch dips and I look up to see Micah kneeling between my legs staring with laser-like focus. I made fun of this ridiculously long couch when we first checked in, but now I’m thankful for it. I throw my feet behind his hips, hoping I can tempt him to fall into me.
As if punishing me, he holds firm, watching but never touching.
“What’s taking so long, Dani? If this were me, you’d have come twice by now. Maybe you need a reminder of how I fuck you.”
“Yes!” I scream. Yes, please.
His laugh is sinister. “You’re not ready for that. You’ll have to do this by yourself.”
I groan my frustration, but I’m so close it turns into a whimper.
“I’m tired of waiting. Come, Dani. Now.”
I fall apart at his assertiveness, letting out a low-pitched scream as I come crashing back down to the ground. When I can finally bring myself to open my eyes, he’s still kneeling between my legs, his fists clenched tightly against his thighs.
“You know what to do now,” he says.
Licking my lips, I pull out my fingers and make a trail up my body with the remnants of my release. Micah watches with hungry eyes, tightening his fists to the point of pain when I swirl my release around my nipple.
He stands from the couch and gives me a long kiss on my forehead. “Good night, my little thunderstorm.”
“Wait,” I call out, my voice weak.
“What?”
“You’re just gonna leave me like this?” My voice is pleading with him.
“You’re a greedy girl, aren’t you?”
My chest heaves with need. This alone will fuel my dreams for nights to come, but I want him to touch me. I need him to fall apart in front of me. “I wouldn’t say greedy. You’re not even gonna clean me up?”
His fingers twitch by his side and when he walks toward me, I feel victory coming my way.
He once again sinks to his knees, this time beside me. My stomach clenches when I feel the hot air from his breath against my waist.
“You’re greedy, Dani.” His tongue touches my belly and follows the trail I created up my body, teasing my nipple just barely enough to wipe away the evidence. He makes a show of swallowing the proof, planting his hands on both sides of me. “And greedy girls don’t get their way.”
I was wrong. So very wrong.
I thought giving in to my sexual desires for Micah would ease some of the pressure and make it possible for me to focus again. It’s only made me more feral.
He’s had a smug grin on his face since we left the hotel to go see our new house, and I’ve never wanted to slap him more.
And then maybe slap my pussy in his mouth.
Before I can let that happen again, we have to have a conversation. I need to make sure he understands exactly what’s on the table.
But that’s a problem for later. Right now, we have a house to investigate.
As promised, there’s a crew here working on the HVAC system, so it’s noisy and hot inside, but it doesn’t take away from the vision.
Roger picked a perfect place for Tanya. Original wood doors, four floors of spacious, grand living space, the exact type of dramatic light fixtures Tanya loves. She just wasn’t the right woman to live here.
“What are we gonna do with a house all the way in Chicago?” I whisper to myself.
Micah lays his hand atop my shoulder, heat radiating from his skin. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now.”
Yes, but it would be nice to have any sort of answer to any question swirling around my mind right now.
We take our time, going through the house and taking pictures so that we don’t have to rely on our memory once we’re back in Baltimore. I keep trying to think of what we could do with it, and nothing comes to mind. It doesn’t seem like Tanya wants us to sell it, but what the hell else would we do?
Micah slaps my shoulder every time he says he can feel me asking that question. Ass.
The primary bathroom has its own linen closet and inside there are two suitcases.
If no one has lived here since Roger bought it, what are they doing here? Micah helps me pull them out and open them. Each suitcase has one item in it, a snowsuit. One with my name on it, the other with Micah’s.
“I know Chicago gets cold, but I don’t think we’re gonna need these here.”
When Micah unfolds his snowsuit, our next clue comes tumbling out.