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“Oh, posh! We’ve been in worse circumstances than this. We’ll be fine, honey.” Grams was right, but I got the feeling she was trying to get rid of me. “Go,” she said again.
“Fine. If it makes you feel better, I’ll go check on him.”
Even in the candlelight, I could see the smile of self-satisfaction covering her face. What was she really up to? And was Pops in on these plans too?
I shoved myself into a jacket. “Are you sure you guys are okay?”
“Yes. We’re fine. I’m tired anyway, so I’m going to go to bed.” Pops’s voice, still strong, sounded weary.
“The power will be back on soon. I’ll go check on the breakers after I get your grandpa up to bed and settled. Don’t worry about us. We’ve got flashlights.”
“Oh posh,” I imitated her, bending to kiss her cheek.
“Just be careful,” she said, kissing me back.
“Night, Pops,” I said, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, kissing him on his head. I grabbed the leftover soup for Michael. “You’re sure you guys are okay?”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. You’re worse than your grandma,” Pops teased.
“Should I wait up for you, dear?” Grams asked me, a humorous inflection in her question.
“Good night, Grams.” Laughing, I opened the door and dashed out into the rain.
As I drove toward Michael’s, I glanced in the rearview mirror. “I’ll be damned,” I said as I saw the lights flicker back on.
As expected, Michael’s electricity was working just fine. I ducked under the hood of my jacket and ran to him, knocking rapidly on the door, wanting in. Not just in from the rain, but into his warm embrace.
He opened the door. “Hey there,” he invited me in with a sweep of his arm.
He hung my jacket next to his. He smelled good—freshly showered, the familiar citrusy woodland fragrance clinging to him. He looked even better. His hair was damp and disheveled, like he had just raked his fingers through it, letting it air dry. It was almost black when wet and gave his bronzed, chiseled face a villainous appearance. This was exactly what his doppelgänger would look like: slicked-back black hair, dark eyes, bronzed skin, chiseled features but with tattoos running up his muscled arms and across his perfectly sculpted chest. My mouth watered at the bad boy image.
Michael looked mouthwateringly scrumptious, even in a T-shirt and sweats. His feet were bare, trimmed toenails and little tufts of hair on his toes. “What? No leftovers?”
I shivered. “Shit, I forgot your soup in the car.”
He shrugged, pushing me back toward the closed door.
“I can run out and get it,” I said as his mouth traveled over my skin.
“No. That’s not necessary.” His voice was low and rumbly. “I already had a bite earlier.” He licked his lips as my back met the wall.
I leaned forward, already hungry for him. He pulled away with that cocky smirk in place. “Not yet,” he whispered as he pulled my sweatshirt over my head. I was naked underneath. His eyes darkened with appreciation as he took his bottom lip between his teeth.
He placed his hands on my shoulders, brushed his thumbs across my collarbone, and dipped his head closer. His tongue glided across his lips as he drank me in. Chills raced through my body as anticipation rolled through me. His fingers danced over my neck, barely touching my skin. His eyes, full of emotion and hunger, captivated me, and I wondered briefly if he felt what I was feeling.
He shifted his body forward an inch. My body began to vibrate in response. Before I could say anything, his mouth was on mine and the slow burn that had been building on the inside flamed to an inferno, the torrid passion raging between us, all-consuming.
I couldn’t stop myself as I entwined myself with him. Even as my hands dove into his hair and I pulled him to me, I couldn’t get close enough. He ran his hands down my body, lifting me slightly, then slipped into my yoga pants and cupped my naked ass.
“Fuck,” he dragged the word out against my neck as he slid his palms over my bare flesh. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pressed me further into the wall, holding me up. He took my nipple into his mouth and sucked, his tongue circling lazily around the hardened peak. My head hit the wall as I let it fall back. The scruff of his stubble scraped deliciously against my skin as he moved to the other side. His cock pressed even harder against my already heated and pulsating center.
My noises were strangled and shallow as I dug my fingers into his shoulders. He kissed me harder, claiming my sounds, my lips, our tongues swirling together.
“I need you. Give me all of you. Please, Siena.”
I silently implored him to take whatever he wanted. I nodded, and his lips crashed to me again, rough and unyielding.
He held me in his arms as he carried me, wrapped around him, to the bed. His hands moved over my body, tearing off my pants in a frenzy and throwing them and my shoes to the floor behind him. He traced his finger from my sternum to my belly button, watched as I shivered from the slight touch. I groaned in frustration as he broke contact.
