Page 61 of Fire

You sound like I’m murdering you.

You must watch too much porn.

I can’t think when you’re that noisy.

And so, I stopped. And he did his thing. And I came to hate the way he touched me. Selfishly. Like I could have been anyone…

But now…

Today…

“Does it not feel good?” Micah slips a finger inside, hooking into a ‘come hither’ gesture and my hips buck wildly.

“Oh, it feels better than good,” I whisper and even that is an effort. I lift my head to meet his eyes, wrapping my fingers around his straining cock. He thrusts himself against my hand, growling his pleasure, and goose bumps scatter along my skin.

“I’ve never been so relaxed during a thunderstorm,” I say with a laugh.

“Relaxed?” He swirls a finger along my clit. “I’m not sure ‘relaxed’ is the word I’m going for. In fact…” Micah sits up, sliding my pants and underwear off and pressing my thighs apart. “I’m going more for something like, ‘Yes, God, yes! Oh shit! Micah! Fuck me harder, you sexy beast!”

I start to chuckle, but he lowers his face to me and draws his tongue along my slit. I slap a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. He sucks and licks, working magic with his fingers and I’m spiraling, close, eyes shut as thunder rolls and there! Yes! There! I don’t make him work hard for the orgasm my body seems so desperate to give him.

He sits up, smiling in the dark. I laugh lightly, boneless, stunned into silence when lightning strikes and a crack of thunder rattles the house so hard even Micah jumps.

Across the hall, there’s a whimper. Then a gasp. Then, “Mommy?”

“Shit.” I sit up, scrambling for my pants. “I don’t know that I’m in the right mindset for a nightmare. I’ve tried so hard to hide how scared I am of storms…and then, you know, what we were just doing…”

“Ivy. Let me. I’ll wash up and take care of her.” Micah puts a hand on my arm. “Your secret is safe with me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Micah

When the first flash of lightning lit up my bedroom, my initial thought was Ivy and her fear of storms. I swore I wouldn’t check on her.

But I did.

Then I swore I wouldn’t get in bed with her.

But I did that too.

I wasn’t going to pull her into my arms, but by that point, I’d accepted I wasn’t in control anymore. My feelings for her are too strong. Too real.

I’m not supposed to love her, but I never stopped

I’m not supposed to want her, but I have for years.

I’m not supposed to touch her, but I might as well deny myself oxygen.

I’d reached the point of no return with Ivy. The only thing that could have stopped us from making a mistake—or finally fixing a mistake, who the fuck knows?—is Nell.

I don’t know if her timing is perfect or terrible.

I stop in the bathroom, washing the taste of Ivy off my lips, my hands. I clutch the porcelain sink and glare at my reflection.

Game face, Hutton. Switch thought processes. You can’t go into your daughter’s bedroom thinking about her mom like this.

And…that did it. Feeling a little like a pervy creep, I swipe my hands through my hair, then knock lightly on Nell’s door.

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