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Oh, crap. Jesus, Micah. What the hell were you thinking?
Yeah, I know. I’ve got it bad for this girl. So sue me. See if I fucking care.
Chapter Eight
Evangeline
Staring into Micah’s bright blue eyes, I struggle to find my way back down to earth. What he does to me is mind-blowing, how he plays with my body and draws out sensations I never imagined, and his smile… A little crooked, wide, sexy. Beautiful. It brings all sorts of unexpected feelings to the surface. A bit of joy, a bit of fear, a bit of panic and a whole lot of desire. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone so much before. This need to touch him all over, kiss him, feel him…
Weak sunlight filters through the window, and I frown. I feel like there’s something I’m forgetting…
Crap, it’s morning. My parents and Joel must be frantic, not knowing where I was last night.
Micah mirrors my frown. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
I smile, his concern making me feel warm. “No, I’m fine. Got to text Joel, though, let him know I’m all right.”
“Who’s Joel?” The blue of Micah’s eyes darkens.
Wait. He’s jealous? I laugh and splay my hand on his muscled chest. “Wouldn’t you want to know?”
“Ev…” There’s confusion in his gaze now, the blue shot with gray. He has such expressive eyes.
“Joel is my brother.”
He searches my face, and his gaze slowly clears. His grin returns. “Really?”
“I swear.”
“On what?”
“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—”
