Chapter 27
Ihave no idea how we make it back into my truck, or how I manage to keep my hands and lips off of Micah during the rest of the drive.
With both our clothes drenched and sticking to our skin, we turn up the heat, but it’s Micah’s hand on my knee—staying firmly in place the whole time—that keeps me from shaking.
The second he pulls into the empty driveway and turns off the engine, the spell breaks. I honk the horn in my hurry to climb into Micah’s lap and press my lips against his cheeks, then his neck.
He laughs when I cup his face with both hands, so I can tilt it up and kiss him properly. The taste of rain still clings to his lips. I chase it until the coolness gives way to a familiar warmth.
“I like this,” Micah murmurs between kisses, wrapping his arms around me.
“Yeah, I think I got a lot better at—” I break off when Micah turns to the side and gets out of my truck—taking me with him. I duck my head against his shoulder.
Micah laughs, hopping me up. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”
I hum, holding on while he carries me across the porch. When we reach the door, Micah pauses to lean me against the front door. “For the record: I like that you’re taking what you want,” he explains as he fumbles my keys into the lock.
The house is dark, meaning the Nook must be empty. The group chat was atypically quiet over the past few weeks, but there’s plenty of time to catch up with them.
Right now, I’m glad we have the house to ourselves, because my head’s still all over—and because the thought sends a tingle down my spine. I stretch my arms over Micah’s shoulders, brushing my lips along his neck while he carries me inside.
“So…is there anything you want?” I hum quietly, running my fingers through his hair, pulling off his Badgers cap.
Micah smiles against my throat. His stubble scratches over my skin. His hands pull my thighs up, leaving me no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist.
I tip my head back with a groan when it means the inside of my thighs and my crotch are pressing right up against his stomach.
For once, I’m taller than Micah, so he has to tilt his head up to meet me for another kiss. I dive in, almost too greedy, nipping on his bottom lip before I slide my tongue into his mouth. Savoring his moan, I squeeze my legs around him.
Micah’s hands wander along my body, over my back, then down to my ass.
I tear my mouth away from his with a sharp gasp.
Micah’s eyes follow me. The heat surging from them would have made me stumble if I had been on my own two feet. Even like this, my stomach drops, though Micah’s arms are firmly wrapped around me, holding me safe.
He starts walking again, and I expect him to reach the stairs by now.
Empty house or not, we still share it with so many people that I don’t even consider another destination than my room.
I suck in a sharp breath when, instead of carrying me there, Micah tips me, his big hands fanned out against my back as he lays me on the dining table.
I blink around, staring at the tilted kitchen and then up at Micah.
“There is something I want,” he says conversationally as he gently runs his hands over my thighs, easing them off his waist. I loosen them, allowing him to run his hand down my calf and push off my shoes.
“Remember that chapter I read to you? Noah had Owen on the table.” He pulls me forward until I slide off the edge, my feet barely hitting the floor before Micah turns me around.
His chest presses against my back until I have to catch myself with both hands against the table, slowly bending as he rests more of his weight against me. “Just like this, and then…”
I drag in a shuddering breath when one of his hands traces down over my ass and cups my cheek.
For another moment, Micah’s broad body is a solid wall behind me.
His chest expands as he breathes, the soft puffs tickling my neck.
The warm bulge of his arousal presses against the small of my back—until he moves down.
He presses a kiss against the back of my neck, then between my shoulder blades.
His other hand pushes my shirt up, exposing my back to his wandering fingertips.
They’re scorching in comparison to the cool air.
There’s a flutter of nerves accompanying the action, like I’m somehow more naked than he’s seen me before.
Or that this time, he won’t like what he finds under the fabric.
Ridiculous thoughts, and yet I can’t stop them. Thankfully, they blink out of existence when Micah’s tongue trails along my spine. His hand reaches around to my chest so he can play with one of my nipples.
“You-you want…rimming?” The words catch in my throat, and I have to fight to keep my head in the here and now, while Micah’s fingers play along the waistband of my shorts. “R-right here?”
“Yes,” he states. Calmly, quietly—and yet there’s something in his voice that makes my stomach drop.
“Oh—” I gasp, my back arching to push up against Micah’s mouth.
“Is that a yes, sweetheart?” Micah hums, now back next to my ear, though his fingers push under the elastic so he can trace along my hip bone.
“I need to hear you say it.” He plucks one of my hands away from where I’m grabbing the edge of the table as if for dear life, then leads it to his lips to kiss my knuckles.
My mind reflexively reminds me of the promise I made to Colin.
But why should I worry about that?
“I don’t want to push you,” Micah adds, his lips moving against the back of my hand, probably misunderstanding my short pause, and is now trying to give me space.
“But I really—I want to taste you. And”—his eyes flicker down to my lips—“I want to see you lose yourself like Owen in the book. I want to see you squirm and hear you beg because it all just feels too fucking good.”
“Holy shit, Micah,” I groan, squirming and then turning around so I can wrap my arms around him. Our lips find their way to each other as if drawn together by magnets. I lean back against the table, pulling him with me, needing his body right on top of me.
Micah’s knee pushes between my thighs, bracing against the edge of the table.
I lie back so he can climb over me. Feeling his hips against mine, I buck up, hoping to show him that I'm very on board with his plans.
He’s a warm and solid wall above me, muscles tense with the effort of holding himself up. That won’t do. I want to feel him, dammit, not have this distance between us. Determined to make it disappear, I hook my leg around his waist, pulling our bodies together.
The table creaks ominously.
We freeze.
Micah’s eyes are wide as he looks down at me.
A second passes, then another. I let out a breathless chuckle when we don’t crash to the floor.
“Maybe the table isn’t made for us,” Micah says, carefully standing up.
I already miss the closeness, but take the hand he offers me. “Yeah, but you know what is made for us?” I grin at him before hopping off the table. “My bed.”
He lets out a surprised laugh, giving me time to pull him over to the stairs.
We practically fall through the door into my room. Micah pulls his shirt off so quickly, it's blowing my mind how he's all smooth skin and muscles right before me. Next, he sits down on my bed to take off his socks.
I realize I’m just staring and hurry to take off my shirt. I’m about to undo the tie of my shorts when I feel Micah's hands settling on my hips, pulling me closer.
He looks up at me with his mesmerizing eyes, full lips curling into a quiet smile. “Let me,” he murmurs, his fingers teasing at the elastic waistband, waiting for my jerky nod until they sneak under.
My pants fall down my legs with one deft tug. He takes his time with my underwear, inching them down my thighs until they slide down my shins. Micah’s eyes trail down my body slowly, taking in my chest, then my stomach—like he hasn’t seen me naked before.
There isn’t an inch on me that Micah hasn’t touched before, so he knows what he’ll find. Still, the way he takes me in, leisurely as if he’s savoring every glance, until he’s looking down at my dick, makes me flush.
I shift on my feet, shuffling awkwardly until Micah grabs my hips again.
“Nervous?” he asks.
“Yeah, but that’s not a bad thing.”
Micah chuckles, pressing his lips against my stomach.
I use the moment to card my fingers through his hair, about to reassure him that I want this, that I want him—when his mouth wanders lower. His breath tickles, making my erection twitch.
Head spinning, I reach for Micah’s shoulders. I’m worried my knees will give out because all my blood is rushing straight to my groin.
“Want this,” he murmurs, then his lips wrap around the tip of my erection. He laps over me deliberately, slowly, like he's done so often—only this time the promise of more envelops us.
I groan, letting the heat of Micah’s mouth consume me, finally not worrying about someone in the next room hearing us.
Restlessly, I squeeze his shoulders, then trace my fingers back up his neck and into his hair.
Pushing away the strands so I can watch how Micah’s eyes flutter closed as he takes me deeper.
He swallows, and this time, my knees buckle. I tumble forward, gasping like I’ve sprinted around the pasture. Only Micah’s hands, steady and firm on my hips, prevent me from falling.
“Fuck.” I gasp for air.
“Maybe later.” Micah grins, though he watches me closely, giving me a moment to catch my breath. His hands gently squeeze over my hips, then he pulls me onto the bed.
I land on my stomach, helping to rearrange my limbs, though it takes me some nerve to get on all fours.
Although it's Micah, I still feel uncomfortable being exposed like this. Wanton, almost vulgar. My erection bobs between my legs, my skin hot against the cool sheets, especially when I spread my legs.
Only Micah's hands, rubbing over my back and shoulders, slowly moving down to my ass, keep me from turning around.