Page 31 of Jacob Michaels Is Not Jacob Michaels

Lucas reached up and took my face in his hands.

“I know where this behavior is leading,” Lucas whispered through a toothy grin. “And…I don’t want to keep you from wanting to do that, babe. But what’s going on here?”

“I told you,” I said as I leaned forward to kiss him again. “I missed you.”

“A few days ago, you didn’t even want to admit you wanted me around, Rob.” He moaned happily as my mouth moved to his neck. “And now you miss me all the time? I’m not complaining, but…unh!”

My hand had snaked its way into the front of his pants as I kissed and bit at his neck. Lucas’ hips pushed forward of their own accord as my hand began to move and I licked a trail from the side of his neck down to his collarbone. Lucas’ fingers found my hair as my tongue traveled down to the middle of his chest and my knees slowly bent, taking me to lower places. As my tongue trailed over his stomach, and my knees connected with the floor, I looked up at Lucas, grinning evilly as he looked down at me, his eyes wide, his fingers tugging at my hair.

“I hope you never stop missing me.” He breathed out as I ripped the front of his jeans open.

Later, as the sun was starting to set, the sky turning pink, I was laid alongside Lucas in the bed. We hadn’t gotten as far as removing the rest of our clothes, though both of us were completely satisfied. My head was just below Lucas’ chin, pressed against his chest, both of my arms wrapped around him as I held myself against him. Lucas’ fingers were raking through my hair gently, a gesture that would be soothing in most situations, but only kept me on the edge of hunger and satiated. My face nuzzled his chest as he kissed the top of my head, his breath wispy in my hair.

“What do you know about amnesia, Lucas?” I asked softly.

“Huh?”

“You’re a college boy.” I chuckled throatily. “What do you know about amnesia? Or memories?”

“I didn’t go to med school.” He replied, kissing my head again. “English. Remember? They didn’t really explain neurology or anything like that much.”

“Oh.” I kissed his bare chest, my eyes moving to look at the top of his jeans, still flapped open.

Lucas was tucked away inside of his boxers, but just seeing his pants unbuttoned and wide open made me warm and think thoughts that were not conducive to what I wanted to achieve.

“I feel like I have so much to make up for.” I whispered against the tight flesh of his chest. “So much time to make up.”

“Well, you were gone for a decade,” He laughed lowly. “That’s a lot of years you weren’t spending with me when it’s obvious you should have been.”

“Obviously,” I replied. I wasn’t being sarcastic. “A few days ago, I was sure that getting into a relationship…with anyone…was a huge decision. Now I feel like I should have run back home years ago—back to you.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Rob.” He was pulling my face up to look at me.

Lucas planted a kiss on my lips then stared into my eyes.

“When did we first meet?” I asked.

He shrugged lazily. “I mean, Point Worth has three school buildings. I’m sure we initially met in kindergarten or first grade. I don’t know. We never really ran in the same circles, so it’s hard to pinpoint.”

“I can kind of remember you from freshman and sophomore years,” I said. “But, it’s hazy. Like I don’t really remember you there. And I feel like I’ve missed you since then. But I also feel like if we went to the same schools for so many years, I should have a better memory of seeing you around.”

Lucas stared at me for a long time, his fingers trailing through my hair gently, slowly, as he thought. I could practically hear the wheels clicking in his brain as he considered what I was saying.

“What’s this about, Rob?”

“Do you remember me?”

“Of course I do.”

“What do you remember?”

“You played guitar a lot. And sang. And you were in plays, and the choir and…you were the special kid. The one everyone else wanted to be, even if they wouldn’t admit it. Half the kids hated you, and half of them loved you—but they all wanted to be you. You never gave anyone a reason to hate you…or love you for that matter.”

He laughed.

“But you were extraordinary.”

“That’s pretty vague.”