I drop onto the couch as she buzzes around, turning on the heater and bringing me a towel from the bathroom. When it drops from my hand, and I can’t find the energy to lift it, she takes it and climbs next to me to dry my face and hair.
“You should be careful,” she says quietly as she puts the towel aside and brushes her warm hands over my face. “You have this nasty cough, and it could get worse if you don’t get it checked out.”
“I’m okay,” I say, a bit dazed and already reaching for her. I need her. I know I should be angry with her, but right now I can’t remember why, and I need her like I need air to breathe.
“There was this man…” She pauses with her hands on my cheeks. The contact burns, but I don’t care. I want her touch. Need it. “A young man living on the streets. I met him only a few times. And the last time I saw him he was so sick… Pneumonia, I guess. I think he was dying. So I called an ambulance. I was going to go with him to the hospital, make sure he got through it. But a bike ran me over before the ambulance arrived. I broke my leg, and it was all hazy for a while.”
She’s talking about me. She remembers me. The thought slams into me like a bullet, and I gasp. Her face scrunches up in worry.
“God, you’re freezing and here I am, talking nonstop.” Her hands are all over me, stealing what little breath I have left, unzipping and pushing off my jacket, tugging on my sweater. I pull sweater and T-shirt over my head and off, throwing them to the floor.
My teeth chatter harder now, and I’m mesmerized by her hands on my chest, skin to skin. Her cheeks are reddening, and all I want is to kiss her.
“Your pants are soaked,” she whispers and before I reach for her, she slips off the couch and kneels between my legs.
Oh fuck. I’m getting hard fast and a grumpy voice in the back of my mind whispers this isn’t such a good idea. I swallow, watching her intent, heart-shaped face as she undoes the laces of my boots and pulls them off, then starts on my socks, her fingers warm on my legs. I swallow again when she reaches for my fly, deftly unzipping and dragging down the wet, heavy material, leaving me in my black briefs.
We both look at the huge tent in them, then glance up and our gazes meet.
“Micah…” she whispers, the low, raspy sound making my cock twitch madly.
I grip her wrists and drag her up, on top of me. Oh hell. So good.
She gasps, and I crush our mouths together, swallowing the sound. If I can’t have her, I’ll just break, shatter into pieces.
She pulls back. “You’re cold. Need to warm you up—”
“So warm me up,” I mutter and start working on her jacket. My fingers are numb from the cold and can’t quite grip the zipper. Her eyes are wide, but she helps, opening and taking off her jacket. My hands slip under her sweater, and she yelps, then laughs.
Together we drag her clothes off, and she’s sitting there in her white bra and panties, biting her lip, her hair all over the place, streaks of copper and gold, and she’s fucking beautiful. I lean forward, press my mouth to the soft mound of her breast, and her mouth falls open. I watch her face as I trail my lips over her silky skin, her soft flesh, lower where her nipple stretches the thin fabric of the bra.
Her breath hitches, and she reaches blindly for me, as if she’s on top of a cliff, and she’s afraid she’ll fall.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper and slide my hands up her back in search of the clasp of her bra. I unhook it and free her breasts, so I can lick and kiss them. I suck on her nipples until she moans long and loud, then push my fingers into her panties. I rub her clit and slide my forefinger into her folds, inside her. “I’ve got you,” I say again, and my voice catches on a groan.
She’s moving frantically on top of my cotton-clad erection, and everything is tightening, the pressure rising. I grab her hips and stop her, but she tugs down my briefs, exposing my dick, and the brush of air on the wet tip sends a huge shudder through me.
Instantly she stills. “Crap, you’re still cold, I’m—”
“Getting warmer,” I manage, and her concern makes my chest constrict. “Come here.”
Her lips taste like her, fresh and sweet, and she barely seems to notice when I divest her of her panties. I pull my wallet from my jacket and find a condom. I grab my cock and quickly pull it on.
She’s staring down at it. It twitches in greeting.
Fuck. “Ride me,” I whisper.
We both moan when I tease her opening with the head of my dick, then she’s opening for me, and I’m slipping inside her. The pleasure is fucking insane. I push deeper, and she takes me until I’m seated in her heat all the way.
This isn’t gonna last long. All the damn stress of the day is catching up with me, all that pressure needs an outlet, and she’s velvet and fire clenched around me. I snap my hips up, driving into her, and she puts her hands on my shoulders and bends forward. Her breasts are right where I want them, and I take a stiff nipple in my mouth, sucking and licking, as she rocks on top of me, breathless moans leaving her lips.
“Micah, I…” Her head falls back, and her back arches. She ripples around my dick. She’s about to come, and the realization makes my balls draw tight. I thrust faster, harder, and she cries out, tightening like a fist around me.
Oh shit. My dick jerks. I wrap my arms around her waist and bury my face against her breasts as I come hard, shaking against her.
“Oh God,” she breathes, still moving, sending aftershocks of pleasure through me. “Shit, Micah.”
I’m still holding on as if she might vanish into smoke. I refuse to let go, remember what happened today, what we talked about before we got lost in pleasure. I don’t fucking want this moment to end.
Refuse to admit it will and reality with come crashing down around me.
Hell, it always does.
“Are you asleep?” Ev murmurs, lazily trailing a fingertip down my chest to my stomach. She’s lying half on top of me on the sofa. We never made it to bed.
“And if I say yes?” I grin down at her, but she doesn’t smile. She seems to be in deep thought.
Deep thought is exactly what I’m trying to avoid right now. Good thing she’s naked, distracting me. I run a hand over the curve of her hip and brush it over her belly.
She shivers. “Why aren’t you still mad at me?” She watches my hand as it travels down to her thigh. “I reported Blake, Micah. Did you hear me before when I said that?”
My hand stops. Here it comes. I’m not ready yet. I move my hand lower, between her legs, and she gasps when I tease her seam open with my thumb.
“Do you want me to stop?” I stroke her, and her eyes close as her breathing speeds up. “Would you rather talk instead?”
Shit, she’s so ready. I dip my finger inside her again and again until she moans my name and comes apart in my arms, convulsing.
I’m breathing just as hard as she is. Reaching down for my junk, I find it rock hard and wet. I tug on it, and then her hand closes over mine.
“Micah. Did Seth say anything else to you about his assailants?”
All air leaves my lungs. “He did.”