“On your mighty cock.” I clap a hand over my mouth. What’s come over me?
“Jesus, girl. You are something.” He laughs quietly, and I’ve found my new favorite sound. Deep and rumbling, it wraps around me like his warm body, pushing away my worries and fears.
I laugh, too. “Sorry.”
“What for? I think my boy never had such an honor.” He sits back, slipping out of me. I twitch at the odd sensation and watch as he pulls off the condom and ties it off. “In fact,” he says, “I think my boy here wants to thank you.”
And sure enough, he’s hardening again as I watch, and heat gathers between my legs. Okay, what’s this—am I turning in to nymphomaniac or something?
He clucks his tongue, and I raise my eyes to find him looking right at me. He knows I was looking at his cock, which is now standing semi-erect, rising against his taut stomach. He’s so handsome, strong and ripped, all lean muscle and sinew. I reach for him, and the blues in his eyes shift again—ever-changing like the sky.
“Your cell,” he says, and it takes me a moment to process his words or the fact he’s now holding my phone in his hand.
How…? Oh, right. I had the cell in the pocket of my pants. Joel is always bugging me to keep it in my purse.
Joel. Shit. I reach for the phone, and Micah tugs on it as I try to take it, his grin widening. He’s playing with me, and it makes me feel giddy and hot. Finally, he relinquishes his hold, and I check my messages.
Ten from Mom, demanding to know where I am and saying she will call the cops if I don’t answer. All from last night. One text from Joel, saying Mom is going crazy, asking if he knows where I am, and where the hell am I anyway?
I wince. What if she called the cops already? I hate this, making them worry and not having the freedom to do a crazy thing like staying over at a guy’s place without the police looking for me. I really should move out. I’m nineteen, after all.
I call Mom first, and she replies on the second ring. “Evie? Oh my God, baby, I was so concerned something happened to you!” She sounds so relieved I feel guiltier than ever.
“Didn’t you get my text about staying overnight at a friend’s?”
“And that makes it all right? You didn’t even say which friend, and I called several but nobody knew—”
“You did what?” Mortified, I glance at Micah, who’s half-lying in all his naked and aroused glory next to me. “Mom, I’m an adult. You have to stop doing that.”
“How can you blame me? You like wandering with filthy beggars and won’t look out for yourself! Joel says you’re still doing it. Of course I’m worried.”
This again? “Well, I’m fine. Talk to you later, Mom.”
“Evie, wait—”
I put the cell down and sigh in frustration. Quickly, I type a text to Joel, letting him know I stayed at a friend’s last night.
I know they all mean well. I’m actually quite a rational person most of the time. But it’s not as if I ran off to Vegas for a month. I even let them know I was staying out, for God’s sake.
Micah runs his hand up and down my arm. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” His touch is calming, and I close my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. “Parent stuff, you know?”
He says nothing and when I open my eyes he’s looking past me, at the far wall.
“Like, they want to know where I am every minute of the day,” I say, “and think they have a say in who I see and what I do… It’s annoying.” Micah’s face is blank, and as nervousness swamps me I start to talk faster. “Is that normal? I mean, I guess it’s different with boys. Joel is pretty much free to do as he pleases, and I know for most boys it’s like that. What about you? What about your parents?”
“What about them?” Micah mutters and leaves the bed. He stands in the middle of the room, facing away from me, his body tense, every muscle outlined in his strong back.
“Are you okay?” I hesitate, the sheet wrapped around me. “Micah?”
“Fine,” he snaps.
I gape at his back. Unexpectedly, my eyes sting. Gathering the sheet around me, I slip out of bed and pad to the door. I don’t know where I’m going, but I need to pull myself together.
“Ev, wait…” Micah intercepts me before I reach the door, his hand heavy on my shoulder. He slips his arms around my waist and turns me around. “Wait.”
“What?” I mumble.
Uncertainty flickers across his face. His hands move to my hips, holding me gently but securely.
“Sorry,” he says, his chin dipping to his chest. From where I stand, I have a great view of his square jaw and high cheekbones, the sexy ruffled state of his blond hair. “Please don’t go yet.”
Standing this close to him is different from lying down on his bed. He looks huge, powerful, dwarfing me. My pulse accelerates, and yet it’s not from fear. I’m not scared he’ll hurt me in any way. The only thing I feel is need– the need to be closer, always closer to him, to burrow inside him, and it’s just crazy. I barely know him.
The thought makes me pull back, and the uncertainty flashes again over his features, like distant lightning. “Please, Ev. My parents… I just don’t remember them much.”
My mouth opens. but no words come out. I didn’t expect this. I also didn’t expect him to start talking. For me. To stop me from going.
“It’s okay,” I say quietly, reaching up to grip his biceps. “It’s none of my business. I never thought…”
“My dad left when I was very little. My mom was never home.” He gives a rueful smile and a slight, apologetic roll of his shoulders. “Then came foster care and foster families, and they were all different in how they treated me. So…”
So he has no real feel for what parents normally do.
Crap. Of course he doesn’t. Come to think of it… His smile is still in place, but it’s tight and etched with sadness. He told his tale so quickly I almost missed the fact he skimmed over lots of stuff. Important stuff. The most important: an absent father. An absent mother. Foster family after foster family. No stability. No home.
My heart aches for him. I rise on my tiptoes and kiss him, our lips brushing, and then he draws me flush against him and kisses me thoroughly, exploring my mouth with his tongue, flooding me with his dark taste, making me want him again.
His arousal presses between us, steel-hard and hot. I moan when he slides his hands behind me to cup my ass and grinds his hard-on against my belly. He walks me backward until my knees hit the bed, and we fall on it. His mouth moves over my body, scorching and urgent. I’m lost in a storm of sensation, pleasure assaulting me on every side, arousal making my center throb with painful intensity.