“Hey!”
He advanced on me. “Come on!”
“I want to stop.”
“Not yet.”
I blocked another one of his moves and retreated two steps. I was already winning some rounds when fighting against Keisha, but I hadn’t won even half a round against Micah yet. He was not only good, but his fighting style was unknown to me. I had no idea how to end this fight without letting him win.
He swung his sword toward me. I threw up my sword to block his blow, but the force of his strike sent my weapon flying across the room. I gasped and held my breath. The tip of his sword lingered above my heart.
“You didn’t even try.”
I glared at him. “I told you I’m tired.”
He dropped his sword and swung his arm at me.
I ducked. “What the hell?”
“Fight!”
He did a perfect roundhouse kick, and I stepped back, but tripped over one of the swords and went down. Before I did, though, I grabbed his wrist, in order to regain my balance. Instead, he fell over me.
His hand cradled my head before we hit the ground, and the only place that really hurt was the middle of my back, where the wooden sword was. However, Micah’s weight over me took the air out of my lungs.
A new wave of heat traveled low, very low, and my heart hammered against my ribs. He was heavy, but God, this didn’t feel bad. Not bad at all.
“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
He pushed up on his elbows but stayed close. The pendant of his necklace nestled right on my cleavage, the cool metal chilling my hot skin.
Micah looked at it and smiled. “Oh, lucky necklace.”
I groaned. “Get off.”
Losing the smile, he turned his eyes to me. “Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?”
I stared into his eyes. Those endless black eyes. They were on me with urgency and concern. Whenever Micah was like that, I was caught off guard.
“I’ll be better when you get off me.”
He smiled, making my heart skip a few beats. “I know you love me and my body, darling. You don’t mean that.”
I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back. “Get off.”
He didn’t budge. In fact, he adjusted himself so his body covered every inch of mine. I gasped. His mouth hovered an inch from mine, and his intense gaze was doing wicked things to my self-control.
“Say it like you mean it.” His voice was low. Dangerous.
I opened my mouth to tell him to go, but nothing came out. Instead I inhaled and his sandalwood scent washed over me, clouding my senses. My gaze shifted to his mouth. He groaned before diving in.
His lips touched mine for a second, and then he hesitated. But I didn’t. My arms wound around his neck and pulled him back over me, my mouth closing over his. That was all the incentive he needed. His mouth opened with hunger and need, making me shiver.
I had no idea what came over me; I just knew that, at this moment, I needed this. I needed to feel this. I wanted to feel needed. I wanted to be kissed. I wanted to be loved, even if for a moment. I was alone in this world, and I missed being someone to someone. I missed having people who actually cared for me, not just greedy deities who only wanted me around because of my healing touch.
One of his hands clutched my waist, pressing me against him as if my body wasn’t flush to his already. I ran my nails over his bare, muscled back, glad he had taken his shirt off after all. The hand on my waist traveled up, under my tee, and I shivered again, arching into his touch. He slowed the kiss, going deeper, if that was possible, entangling his tongue with mine, and dragging moans out of me.
His lips left mine, and I was about to protest when his mouth trailed a searing path to my neck, extinguishing any coherent thought from my mind. He bit gently on the soft spot between my neck and shoulder, and I cried.
“By the Everlast,” he whispered, before returning his mouth to mine.
All I could feel was his hard body pressed over me, his sweet lips on mine, and his hands on my skin. I wanted it all. I wanted him. I wiggled under him, so my hips were perfectly aligned with his, and pressed over the large bulge down there. He inhaled sharply, but he didn’t stop. Instead he thrust into me, making me gasp.
Without breaking the kiss, I reached down to his pants.
He froze, and in the next second, he was up, his eyes wide in shock. Or terror? Or what?
I propped myself on my elbows and stared at him. The heat of embarrassment crept up my face, while my body felt incredibly cold without his.
A knot formed between his brows, and he looked down at his shirt on the floor. He opened his mouth and then closed it. His jaw flexed, his fists clenched.
“I shouldn’t … I can’t,” he muttered. He shook his head once, picked up his shirt from the floor, and walked away.
What the hell was that?
After Micah left the gym, I stayed on the floor for several minutes, replaying everything in my head. What had I done wrong? I mean, it was Micah. The cocky guy who seemed to flock all the chicks under his wings, but now he didn’t want anything to do with me.
And why the hell had I let him get to me like that? I had looked like a desperate, needy girl, and I hated that. One of the reasons I was training and fighting was not to look weak and needy. Then I throw myself at a guy. No. Not just a guy. A god!
Again … oh my God.
I needed to get a grip, to hide in the deepest hole on Earth, or something.
Instead I went to my bedroom, curled up with my pillow and Pinky, and cried. I thought of my family, how I missed them, how I wished I could change things faster. I thought of the Soul Oath, about my family being alive again, about my death. I wondered if Micah would kill me himself, if he would make it painless and quick, or if he would enjoy making me suffer. Well, he wasn’t that heartless, was he? Since I first met him, he had shown me signs of not being a total bad boy. He was good, I knew he was, and he would honor the oath. He would kill me quickly and painless, and he would make sure my family was okay.
Then I thought of how pathetic I must have looked after that kiss. I would never admit it out loud, but I still believed all those feelings were in me. The lust, the need to feel loved, the there’s-more-to-this-guy feeling. However, I had no idea how to go about it. Actually, I was starting to think I shouldn’t do anything about it.
Finally, I drifted off to sleep. Until the nightmares shook me awake.
I jumped out of bed, starting to believe that the bed was the one that didn’t allow me to forget how horribly my family had died and how I couldn’t do anything to save them.
I put on sweatpants over my shorts and a coat over my tee, and marched out of the room.
I wandered aimlessly, counting each stain or crack on the walls, how many tiles composed the hallway, how many lamps hung from the ceiling, all to keep my mind busy.
“Damn it,” Keisha’s voice came from behind the gym’s closed door.