MICAH (A California Dreamy Novel Book 3) Page 13

  “He’s not going to get you,” Micah promised. “I won’t let that happen.”

  The house was cold, quiet, lacked the feel of intrusion. He stepped across the threshold and pulled Emme along with him. “Stay here,” he said, and reached around her to slide the dead bolt home. “I’m going to check out the house. I’m pretty sure it’s empty, but if you hear anything, anything at all, run. Don’t think you can’t leave me here alone. Don’t think you’ve got to help me. You run back to my house and call the police. Understood?”

  He waited until she nodded in agreement, and then he left her side. He made quick work of each room, every closet. He checked the locks on the windows and on the back door. They were new, chosen with care, and were a huge improvement. Emme had followed him through the hardware store and had asked a lot of questions about home security and Micah felt good about that. Awareness was the first step toward protection.

  When he returned she was sitting on the sofa, perched on the end of it with obvious tension pulling her back straight. Her hands were clasped between her thighs but she stood when he entered.

  “Why?” she asked. “What does he want?”

  “You would know that better than me,” he said and smoothed a hand over her forehead, wanting to erase the worry there. “It’s in here, now you have to connect the dots.”

  Emme’s eyelashes flickered and he could tell she was fighting a rush of tears. And that made him burn with anger. He moved his hand to the back of her neck and nudged her toward him. Her head fit perfectly under his chin and her generous curves yielded immediately to his harder flesh. He loved their differences. So much so his dick stirred and he shifted so she wouldn’t feel the tension gathering below his belt.

  “But I don’t know,” she said. “None of this makes sense.”

  To hell with concealing his boner. He pulled on her hips and lined her up full frontal and pressed closer. It was exquisite. A rush of feeling, color, scent, made coherent thought impossible. But Emme didn’t seem to mind. She moved and her body became a sensual rub, her abdomen against his dick, her breasts against his chest. He throbbed with need. He lifted his hands until his fingers slid under her skimpy sports bra. Her nipples were already hard, puckered, and he wanted to taste them.

  “Micah?” She breathed his name against his lips. “Be sure about this.”

  He grunted in response. Her words were a nudge toward reason and logic and he didn’t want to go there.

  “Because I don’t want to compromise your integrity,” she continued. But even as she said the words her tongue licked across his lips. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.” She nipped at his bottom lip and he felt her teeth all the way to his dick. He stirred against her, impossibly hard, and the breath bottled in her throat and her hands reached around to cup his ass and pull him more fully against her.

  “You’ve been trying to do exactly that,” he accused, but soft laughter took the sting from his words. “For two very long weeks now.”

  “Well, yes, that’s true, but I don’t want you to have regrets afterward.”

  His laughter grew. “Men aren’t like that, Emme.”

  “Bull. You’re like that, Micah. Integrity is important to you.”

  “True.” And he pulled back and took her face in his hands and she loved the coarse feeling of his palms against her cheeks. He waited until her gaze connected with his. “There are things you don’t know about me, Emme. You need to understand that.”

  “So tell me,” she said,

  But he shook his head, allowing his lips to rub against hers.

  “I need to be inside you, Emme. I’ve wanted you for too long. I’m losing perspective and will power.”

  “I prefer to think of it as a win,” she said and her words made him smile. He loved her positive spin on things.

  “Take your shirt off, Micah,” she said, her hands plowing under the hem of his t-shirt and pushing the material up. He raised his arms and allowed her that.

  “You next,” he said and she was quick to comply. She stepped back and pulled her runner’s top over her head. Her breasts bounced free of the Lycra and he lifted his hands to cup their heaviness.

  “Not yet.” She turned away, showing him her backside as she peeled her shorts off next.

  Did she know what that did to him? Hadn’t he told her—hips and ass?

  Micah reached for the snap of his jeans, released it, and brought the zipper down carefully over his erection. He peeled off pants and briefs fully aware that Emme had stopped to watch him, her shorts puddled around her feet.

  “Everything about you,” he said. “I love everything.”

  She would have snuggled up to him then but he stopped her. “Upstairs, OK?” While he was still capable of some rational thought. The kitchen table was closer and tempting, but not for their first time. He took her hand and she followed him up the stairs and into the bedroom she was using. There, he turned her toward him and lifted her against his body. Their skin cleaved, hot and sensitive. Every nerve ending sang at the contact.

  Micah felt the blood thunder in his ears, her hand curl around his shaft, and all reason disappear. His cock, always obedient, thickened and precum dripped from the head. She rubbed the moisture with the pad of her thumb, swirling it around his knob, and then looked up at him. Such beautiful eyes. They reflected all she felt—arousal, daring, and even the shreds of a shyness she was trying so hard to extinguish.

  And he could read her intent.

  He’d had blowjobs before, and he’d enjoyed every one. But he anticipated Emme’s mouth on his junk with keen arousal and something else. Something more. He tried to grasp exactly what it was but knew only that with Emme, it would be special. Her touch softened his heart, turned his brain to shit, and he went from zero to sixty so fast it stole his breath. But only with her. And he wasn’t entirely comfortable with that. Control was important to him. Losing it came with consequences.

  “What are you going to do with me, Emme?” he asked.

  She sank to her knees in front of him. Her small hands curled around his thighs, cupped his ass, and urged him forward. Deeply erotic, she held him mesmerized. He watched her lips part, her tongue sweep across them and then lick hotly at his head.

  “Hmm,” she murmured.

  So. Fucking. Hot. His knees weakened and he allowed her to pull him closer. Her lips traveled the length of his shaft, returned, her tongue flicked at that sensitive ridge and his hand tangled in her hair.

  “Take me, Emme,” he whispered roughly. “Now.”

  And that wasn’t at all what he had planned to say.

  He was quickly losing control. He knew the moment she opened, that she drew him into her mouth, he’d be lost. He promised himself only a moment of that sweet torture and then he’d have her on the bed, on her back, while he got a good taste of her. But damn, best intentions were always a challenge around her.

  Her lips parted over his crown, her tongue swirling, and he locked his knees. No way would he thrust into her. But damn, her pace was slow. And damn if his hips didn’t move. Slow, he ordered himself and he was doing a good job of it until she changed the tempo. Until she pulled hard on his shaft as she withdrew and then kept her jaw clenched as she slid down his cock again. Tight and wet and hot. His hands tightened in her hair and his hips moved faster. He watched for her reaction, but her eyes grew more slumberous, her tongue more insistent. No protest. No thought of protest. Emme was loving it, almost as much as he was. So good. So damn good. But better would be inside her, where he could let go more. Where he could feel her come around him, clenching his cock. His own climax was building. He felt his balls stiffen and retract against his ass, felt himself engorge to impossible thickness as the pressure built, and though it took super human strength, when she pulled back he placed a firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her from taking him further.

  Her eyes snapped open and she sought his gaze. Questioning. Demanding. And fuck if he didn’t want to come just then. And sh
e knew it, damn it. Her lips smiled against his crown and she grazed her teeth carefully along the ridged helmet, followed it with her lapping tongue.

  “Enough,” he gasped.

  Her response was to suck at his crown, to flick her tongue against that ridge that drove him wild. He pulled out of her again and saw that more come had gathered at his head. Dripping heavily. He squeezed his eyes shut, tipped his head back and fought for control.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “I’m not going anywhere without you,” he said.

  Silence.

  “Get on the bed. Spread your legs.”

  But she didn’t move. “You don’t get to call all the shots, Micah,” she reminded him.

  “Trust me, you’ll like this a lot more if you actually come during the process.”

  “I will,” she promised. “When I’m ready.”

  She didn’t listen. She opened her mouth over him and took him deep. That fast. No further preamble, only hot, wet, snug fit and friction beyond his endurance. He came. He curled his hands in her hair, thrust his hips forward, thought dimly of gentleness, of tempering his response, and opened his eyes in time to watch her swallow as she sucked and his thrusts brought him to completion.

  Afterward he sank to the edge of the bed, his whole body vibrating. He curled his hands over the edge of the mattress. Arousal heated his face but also embarrassment. He’d left her behind. He’d never done that before. A woman’s pleasure always came first.

  She didn’t let him stew on that. He heard the rustling of clothes and looked up as she skinned out of her panties and added them to the pile of her clothing. She was beautiful. He was particularly taken with her nipples, the palest pink and puckered and seeking attention, and her hips, which flared dramatically and called for his hands. And if he ever got behind her, he was convinced her rear would fast become his favorite attraction.

  She slid onto his lap, her thighs open and resting on either side of his hips. She smelled heavenly. He inhaled deeply and opened his eyes.

  “You’re wet,” he said.

  “And aching,” she agreed.

  “In a few minutes—”

  But she didn’t let him finish. She pried a hand loose from the mattress and brought it to her sex. “Help me, Micah.”

  Wet and soft. He stroked a finger over her clitoris and down, swirling his fingertip in her channel, but only deep enough to tease. Then he took her mouth in the softest of kisses. He wondered if she was raw and used his lips and tongue to investigate. He’d tried for gentleness. . .She responded now by pulling his tongue fully into her mouth and twining her own around it.

  “I loved that,” she said, when he let her mouth loose. “Bringing you to climax like that.”

  “I could tell,” he said.

  “I’ve never done that before,” she admitted. “I mean, I’ve given head—”

  “Stop,” he ordered. “I don’t want to hear about what you’ve done with other men, Emme.”

  “I just wanted to say, I’ve never taken a man that way. Ever.” She leaned back and hooked his gaze with hers. Satisfaction and hunger raged in her eyes. “You were worth the wait.”

  “You swallowed.”

  “Every drop.”

  He tumbled her to the bed then, onto her back, and stood. His legs were shaky and damn if that hadn’t been the most mind-blowing orgasm he’d ever had. Forever, he’d keep that image of Emme in his mind, her on her knees, her hollowed cheeks as she pulled on his cock, her eyes glazed with desire. Just thinking about it made the pressure build again at the base of his shaft, surprising even him.

  Emme noticed and her lips parted on a sigh of appreciation.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he said, nudging her knees apart so he could stand between them. “Now we’re all about you.”

  “Shouldn’t I get a say, then?”

  “No this time.”

  He put a hand under each of her knees and lifted her legs high so that she was opened to him completely. And then he pressed them down to the mattress and knelt between her legs and drew in a deep breath of her.

  “I’ll find you,” he promised.

  He stroked a single finger from her slick perineum, dipping into her channel, through her slick folds, and swirling around her clitoris.

  “More,” she said. Her hips lifted but his hold kept her in place.

  “I want you to really want me,” he said.

  “I do.”

  “I know. But I’m going to play this out, Emme. I’m going to touch you, then taste you, then drive my fingers into you while I suck on your clit. Would you like that?”

  “Yes,” she panted. “That and more.”

  And he laughed, softly and with great pleasure.

  He added a finger and stroked through her pubic hair, gently dragging his nails over her distended clit. “I love how you trim yourself here. So neat but also so I can see this peeking out.” He thumbed her bud, applying just enough pressure she called out and arched her back and Micah felt his dick thicken painfully as he watched her juice pour out and bath her sweet, sweet lips. He wanted to tongue her there. Needed to. He brought his lips to her folds, lapped at her sex, then reached deeply into her channel. He slid a hand under her ass, palmed that flesh, loving the silky weight of it, and shifted her hips so he could go deeper. He drank from her, knowing he’d never get enough. And he listened to her breath hit her throat, her voice strained as she called his name and tangled her hand in his hair. She liked this. She liked it very much and he’d be so happy to do this for her again. And again.

  When he pulled back his face was bathed in her arousal. He sat on his heels while he slid two fingers into her sex and watched her lips open over her teeth and her hands move up her body to cup her breasts, her fingers pluck at her nipples. He was going to come again already. Fuck. Did she know what that did to him? He took himself in a hard hand and stroked. Once. Twice. Damn it, but he had to. One day, he’d like to watch her finger herself to completion but he didn’t know if she’d ever move past her shyness enough to do that for him.

  Still watching her, still stroking himself, he lowered his mouth to her clitoris. She was so close already. So tight around his fingers. Her hips moved with his thrusts, and he knew that she would come swiftly and he wanted to be inside her when she did that. His teeth closed around her bud and she jerked and screamed and came and he pulled out his fingers and thrust his cock into her and it was heaven. He pushed his fingers into his mouth, licked her juice and pumped into her softness and knew he was lost. Forever lost to this woman. When he came it was long and hot. A shuddering release with an intensity he’d never enjoyed before.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Micah opened the refrigerator and examined its contents. It looked like lunch would be grilled chicken over angel hair and fresh veggies steamed with rosemary. He set aside the items and prepared to take them over to Emme’s. They were four days into an affair. Micah had moved a few of his things into her place but the night before they had gone to his rental so he could gather clean clothes and his razor—and they hadn’t made it out of the bedroom and back to Emme’s until a few hours ago. She’d been reluctant to leave this morning, but true to her pursuits. In the predawn darkness, he had walked her across their yards and stood in her open doorway as she flipped on lights and tossed her jacket to a chair. The place was still. He’d felt no awareness of intrusion. Then she’d plastered her body against his in a sensual rub that his dick stood up and noticed—after already having her several times during the night—and had kissed him with fervency.

  Sex with Emme was everything he’d thought it would be—hot, adventurous, and emotionally engaging. For both of them. Neither had said as much, but their shared intimacy was a hell of a lot more than casual sex. He’d had both and he knew the difference. He believed Emme did, too.

  He stowed the food in a plastic bag, picked up his change of clothes, and pocketed his razor. He was out the door and striding across their yards, gon
e less than four minutes start to finish.

  Emme accepted that he wouldn’t be leaving her alone. Not for any significant amount of time. Not until they had her problem resolved. But he hadn’t come clean yet about why he’d entered her life. And with each day that passed, it grew into an ugly secret that had the potential to do real damage, to both of them.

  He didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want her to feel betrayed and walk away. His heart was invested. But would she be able to see past his duplicity to his genuine feelings?

  He entered her rental through the front door, testing the new locks he’d installed, and walked quietly toward the back of the house. Emme was working, set up at the kitchen table as usual, and he didn’t want to disturb her. But they had to eat and it was nearing lunch time. He stopped in the doorway, leaned a shoulder against the jamb, and watched her for a few minutes. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, her forehead was puckered with thought and determination. She sawed at her bottom lip and leaned toward the computer screen as the words she created flowed like ticker-tape across the screen.

  As far as dreams went, his were heavier than words and not as easy to chase: a world without human trafficking. Honorable, certainly. But they carried him into a dark and painful world. Emme was sunshine, she was inspiration. She dreamed and she believed. Micah wanted that, needed it in his life. Her. He needed her. And that caused a swift wind to rip through him.

  He’d fallen in love. Even as he acknowledged the truth, his heart clutched and began a freefall that made his stomach pitch and his lungs burn for air.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Emme’s voice cut through the haze. He blinked, clearing his thoughts, and focused on Emme’s face. She was concerned but not alarmed, wide-eyed and lips pursed.

  Love sometimes came with loss and always with vulnerabilities and strength and power. It was a scary mix. He tried hard to swallow over the truck that had parked itself in his throat.

  “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”