Chapter 15: Micah

“I’m sorry about what happened tonight with Tommy. He has a general lack of respect for personal spaces—especially where women are involved.”

Robyn snorts a laugh. “That’s an understatement.”

When we arrive home, I drive around to the back of the building so I can park near the cabin.

“I can see why you don’t like him,” she says as I’m unlocking the cabin door.

We step inside, and while I reset the security system, Robyn takes off her coat and hangs it on a hook by the door.

“He seems like an entitled prick,” she says.

I laugh as I hang mine up beside hers. “That about sums it up. He slept his way through the entire cheerleading squad our sophomore year of high school.”

“Oh, my God,” she says, snorting in laughter. “I’m sorry. That’s not funny. Please tell me you’re exaggerating.”

“I’m serious. His friends on the football team bet him he couldn’t sleep with every single cheerleader on the squad that year. He won the bet.”

“That’s just gross.”

“Yeah, considering two of the girls got pregnant as a result, and he refused to take responsibility.”

Robyn shakes her head in disgust. “And to think I danced with him tonight.” She shudders. “Ew.”

She’s standing just a foot from me, gazing up at me with those amazing blue eyes of hers—eyes I could lose myself in. She’s smiling and seems more relaxed than I’ve seen her before. The way she’s looking at me has my body temperature rising, my chest tightening. Not to mention other parts of me.

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“How many of the cheerleaders did you get with?”

I laugh. “None. They wouldn’t have touched me with a ten-foot pole.”

“Why not?”

“Are you kidding? Go out with the half-breed? Never.”

Robyn shakes her head. “The girls in your high school were idiots.”

“How so?” The look in her eyes has my heart pounding.

“For not recognizing what a catch you are.”

“I was nothing but a tall, scrawny kid back then. I’ve filled out since.”

“I’m sorry they called you that.” Her soft pink lips flatten. “Kids can be so cruel.”

I find myself staring at those lips. Even when she’s unhappy, her mouth is mesmerizing, the corners of her lips turned down so expressively. I want to kiss that mouth, badly. I want to bite that pouty bottom lip and suck it into my mouth.

She fiddles with her phone a moment, then sets it down on the arm of the sofa. Music starts playing. The same song we danced to at the tavern— Make You Feel My Love by Adele.

I freeze, the air suddenly trapped in my lungs.

Stepping closer, she holds out her hands. “Shall we resume our dance?”

I hesitate only a second before I pull her close. The feel of her in my arms is everything—soft and warm. Hell yes, I’ll dance with her. I’m pretty sure I’d do anything she asked.

We move slowly, our bodies pressed together. I release one of her hands so I can run my palm up her back. She slips her free arm around me, pressing her hand to the base of my spine. Heat rises through me, lighting my body on fire.

This has to be a dream. Surely, she’s not wanting the same thing I want. I couldn’t be so lucky. Our movements slow as the song comes to an end, and I expect her to step away, but then the song starts over, and I realize she put it on a loop. It’ll continue playing until one of us puts a stop to it. And I’ll be damned if that will be me.

It’s during the third go-round of the song when she raises her arms and slides her hands behind my neck, She gazes up at me, her eyes locked on mine, seeking, searching. There’s a question there. Although I’m afraid I’m imagining it.

She surprises me by going up on her toes and pressing her lips to mine, lightly, gently. Definitely asking a question.

I drop my hands to her hips and clutch them tightly. I’m so afraid of misreading her. Of misunderstanding. Making a mistake. “Robyn.”

“Hmm?” Her voice is soft, her lips gently curving. She slides her hands slowly down my chest to my abs, then around to grasp my ass and pull me tighter against her.

There’s no way she doesn’t notice my erection pressing into her belly. “Are you sure?” I ask.

So many guys have hit on her since she came to Bryce. Men at the diner, at the tavern. Tommy. And she didn’t give any of them the time of day. So, why me?

She pulls back to meet my gaze. “I’m sure. If you want—”

“I do.” I pull her closer, this time wrapping my arms around her so that I can feel every inch of her supple body against mine. I slide my hands up her back, one stopping to cup the back of her neck, the other slipping into her hair.

Hunger surges inside me, driving me to taste and touch her. I lower my mouth to hers, aligning our lips, nudging hers open. She sucks in a shaky breath, and then she opens to me. Her tongue meets mine, and our breaths mingle. Her hands move restlessly up and down my back, as if she can’t decide where she wants to touch me.

But when she grasps my shirt and pulls it free from my jeans, it’s pretty clear what she wants. She tugs my shirt higher, but she’s not tall enough to pull it over my head. I grip the hem and do it for her, pulling it up and off and tossing it aside.

Her gaze latches onto my bare chest, her hands skimming across my pecs as she looks her fill. “You have a beautiful body.”

That makes me smile. “I think you stole my line.”

Her gaze returns to mine. “How would you know? You’ve never seen me naked. At least I’ve seen you shirtless before.”

She’s right, of course. “I—” The words catch in my throat when she grasps the hem of her shirt and starts lifting it.

“I guess there’s only way for you to know,” she says.

I stare, utterly captivated as she raises her top, revealing more and more creamy skin. A pale blue bra lovingly cups her breasts. She tosses her T-shirt onto the bed, leaving her standing there wearing nothing from the waist up but her bra. Without hesitation, she reaches back, unsnaps that bit of fabric, and lets it fall away, leaving her chest beautifully bared.

Good God. I swallow hard. My hands ache to cup those perfect, plump mounds with their luscious pink nipples, but this still feels surreal, so I don’t dare.

“Well?” She presses her lips together, I suspect in an attempt not to grin with triumph.

“Now there’s no doubt,” I say.

She grabs my hands and brings them to her chest, giving me a flashing green light. My discipline snaps. I pull her close, so that our chests are pressed together, the mounds of her soft, breasts cushioned against me. My skin is hot, on fire. Our mouths find each other again, our lips claiming and nudging. Our tongues meet, tasting and licking.

I’m so hard right now I’m in danger of embarrassing myself. I can’t remember ever wanting someone this badly. When I feel her nimble fingers working the fastener of my jeans, I intercept them and take control. I scoop her into my arms and lay her on the bed, desperately needing to slow this down.

I take my time undressing her, starting with her boots, untying the laces and tugging them off, along with her socks. Her jeans are next, followed by her matching pale blue panties. Note to self: she likes matching underwear and bras.

I’ve got her naked now, stretched out on my bed. I pull her closer to the edge of the bed and spread her legs wide. She gasps, but doesn’t object. No, she fists the bedding and watches me with anticipation. I glance down, and the sight of her hits me like a physical blow. Her pussy is absolute perfection, the lips pink and plump, her folds glistening with arousal. She’s clearly on board. If I had any doubt, it’s gone now.

I meet her gaze, giving her a chance to change her mind, tell me no.

“You’d better have condoms,” she says.

I nod to the nightstand. “Top drawer.”

She reaches over, opens the drawer, and pulls out a strip of condom packets. “Extra-large, huh?” she says, reading the packaging. “I like your confidence.” She tears one off and throws the rest back into the drawer. She drops the condom on the bed, beside us, like she’s dropped a gauntlet.

Right now all I can think about is making her come, with my tongue, with my fingers, and again with me buried balls deep inside her. I feast on her, stroking and teasing, smiling when her hips start to buck against my tongue, when her muscles clench down on my finger. I find that ridged spot inside her and stroke it relentlessly.

Her hips rise up to meet my touch. Her breathing picks up, hard and fast. The sounds she’s making, urgent and frantic, only drive my own arousal higher.

“Micah!”

Hearing her cry my name makes me even more desperate to sink inside her. When I feel her thighs trembling, when her pussy tightens on my finger, and her clit starts throbbing, I know she’s close. Her cries are raw and shameless as she comes undone. Gently, I keep her stimulated through her orgasm, wanting to prolong it. She’s beautiful, her eyes closed tightly, biting her bottom lip as she squirms in my hold.

When her body finally relaxes, I surge up and kiss her, letting her taste herself on my lips. I want her to know how good she tastes, how much I want it. I grab the condom packet, rip it open with my teeth, and quickly sheath myself. I shift to kneel between her thighs, lean forward resting my weight on one hand as I use the other to guide myself to her lush, heated opening.

There’s resistance at first, but she’s rocking her hips to meet me, still giving me a green light. Once the head of my cock is in, she gasps, then surges up to meet me, driving me in halfway. She cries out, but it doesn’t sound like she’s in pain. No, that’s the sound of pleasure.

I pull out a bit, then slide back in, over and over as I slowly work myself into her. Her hands are on my shoulders now, pulling me closer. Her eyes are locked on mine.

I’m almost all the way in when I notice the first hint of strain in her expression, and I wonder if I’m hurting her. “Am I—”

“Perfect?” she asks. “Yes.”

“I was going to say hurting you .”

“Only in the very best way. Don’t you dare stop.” And then she hooks her ankles around my lower back and pulls me into her.

I sink the rest of the way, balls deep, and the heat and pressure are mind-blowing. “Robyn.” I lower my mouth to hers and drink in her breathy cries.

I slow my movements, trying to give her time to adjust, but she’s not having that. She rocks against me, driving me deeper.

I start moving then, slowly, pulling out almost all the way before sliding back in. She closes her eyes as if savoring the feeling of me inside her, and God if that doesn’t make me even harder, something I didn’t think possible.

I rock into her, setting up a rhythm. She cups my face and pulls me down for a kiss. Our breaths are hot and a bit frantic as the tempo increases.

“Yes, yes, more,” she cries. “God, yes.”

I’m amazed I lasted as long as I did. My balls tighten as I come swift and hard, my heart pounding, my breaths ragged. She digs her nails into my back, and that only jacks me higher. When I’m spent, I slow my thrusts until I pull out, careful not to dislodge the condom.

I drop down beside her and pull her into my arms. She’s limp in my arms, still trying to catch her breath. I lean in and kiss her forehead. “Be right back.”

After a quick trip to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wash up, I return to bed.

“My turn,” she says, and she races off to the bathroom. A few moments later, she’s back in my arms.

We adjust the bedding so that we’re beneath the sheets. She pulls me close, into her arms. “Sleep with me,” she says. “I want to feel your arms around me.”

I reach over and switch off the lamp. Then I spoon myself at her back, one of my legs between hers. She pulls my arm around her waist and holds it tight.

Robyn falls asleep first, leaving me awake to relive what just happened over and over. I know it was real because I have the evidence—her warm, naked body—in my arms. But honestly, my mind is blown.

And now that I’ve had her, I don’t ever want to let her go.