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“You’re the best I’ve ever had.”
My gaze snapped up off my empty plate, and I finished chewing my last bite of scallop while studying his face for bullshit.
“I’m serious. You’re one hell of a right hand in helping me run my business.”
Warmth flooded me from my hair follicles atop my head to my toenails. “Thank you.”
He grinned and stood, taking both our plates without touching me. “Just don’t tell Dina I said that.”
I snorted and followed him back into the kitchen. “She’s got one hell of a temper.”
“Damn right,” he muttered his agreement while setting our plates in the sink.
“If Billy had actually…raped me, she would have stabbed him with a pitchfork.”
I expected laughter, but his lips thinned, and he grasped the edge of the counter a brief moment before retrieving the opened bottle of wine sitting on the island.
“I have zero tolerance for assholes like that.” Anger laced Micah’s voice. “I understand the whole juvie thing, but stalking you years later and threatening you after you filed restraining orders?” He shook his head, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he poured himself more wine. “The fucker ought to be shot.” Micah gestured to the glass I held in my hand, but I shook my head.
“At least I’m getting better,” I said, fingering the two inch scar beneath my left ear thathadlanded Billy’s ass in jail. “IknowI am. I mean, look at me.” A huff of laughter left my lungs. “I’m alone with a man in his kitchen, less than three feet from him, and I’m not freaking out.”
I also wanted a hell of a lot more with said man.
“I’m happy for you.” Warmth filled his steady gaze. “And me, if you don’t mind me being truthful?”
Tingles of heat slid through my veins, igniting desire in my core as it always did when Micah studied me with his intense stare. “Always. I appreciate honesty.”
His slow smile was deadly. Tempting. “Living room?”
“Sounds good.” I followed him on shaky legs and settled onto the couch.
He sat in a recliner across from me.
Since we’d crossed the line into friendship, and he’d gone with speaking the truth, I decided to lay my cards on the coffee table between us too. “Itisbecause of you that I feel I’m making progress, you know,” I said, my pulse thrumming at my confession.
“How so?” he asked, lifting his wine glass to sip.
Pulling up my big girl panties, I went for it. “You are the first person to make me crave physical interaction. I’ve read about it, talked about it with my sisters regarding their experiences, but not once have I wanted or felt comfortable enough to think of someone touching me.”
Chapter9
Micah
Jesus.
I almost choked on my wine. If the look in her eyes wasn’t an invitation, I wasn’t a Dom with fifteen years of experience under my belt. I cleared my throat and set the glass aside. Tense silence zapped between us, but she didn’t lower her head like usual whenever she seemed uncomfortable. Her green eyes peered at me with a hint of question. Insecurity. But pupils dominated her pale irises, and the pulse jumped in her neck.
Sure, she’d had a slight setback after giving me permission to touch her hand wrapped around the wine glass, but she’d bounced back quickly. I wanted to help—lusted for it. But talking things through always came first for me before getting involved.
“Have you dreamed about me touching you?” I asked.
“Yes,” she whispered without hesitation—almost as if desperate for me to push her boundaries and ask for more.
My dick twitched to life.
I wouldn’t do what her eyes suggested she craved in a physical sense, but I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity she gifted me. Discussion might help break down barriers and allow for greater trust. And I would enjoy every fucking bit of information I could get past her lips to jerk off to later.
“How?”
