Page 65 of Fire

As if moving across the country wasn’t hard enough, he was determined to help me adjust by removing my ties to the Keys. First, I could only text from eight to ten in the evening, Seattle time, which was eleven to one in the morning for Micah. Then school started and I wasn’t allowed to have my phone until after homework and chores were done—and somehow my chore list doubled, so I often didn’t have free time until after nine. So I started talking to Micah at school, which made my grades slip, so I wasn’t allowed to have it then, either. Dad swore he was generous to give me one hour of phone time a night, after which I had to plug it in on the kitchen counter so he could “help me help myself.”

It was awful. I was in a new town. A new school. I was lonely and miserable and all I wanted was Micah, but Dad firmly believed I was better off without him.

“One night,” I say, leaning on the railing beside Micah, “I’d finally had enough. I snuck downstairs. It was late, you were asleep, but I was ready to run back to the Keys and live with you if your parents would have me. I managed to send two texts before Dad found me and all hell broke loose.” I lift my eyebrows, waiting for Micah to put the pieces together.

It doesn’t take long. Understanding softens his posture, relaxing his clenched jaw while his fists unfurl.

“After that, he took my phone permanently, locking it in his room ‘for my own good’ until I found out I was pregnant and he withdrew me from school.”

“All this time, I thought you broke up with me.”

“I was begging for help.” I step towards him. “You were my life, Micah. I always thought we’d be together forever.”

Micah stares for a long moment, then draws me into his arms, kissing me deeply. I slide my hands under his shirt and trail my fingers along his skin. He groans, low, guttural, then pauses.

“Where’s Nell?” he whispers.

“She’s spending the night with Grandma.”

“Good. Because I want you. I need you. I…” He shakes his head, then sweeps me into his arms and strides through the house, flicks on the light in his bedroom, and carefully places me on his bed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Ivy

Micah’s mouth is everywhere, my lips, my jaw, my throat. There’s an urgency to his touch, mixed with a gentle reverence. The last time we were together, we were frenzied, acting on hormones and chemistry. Tonight feels different.

He lifts my shirt and an unexpected explosion of nerves blast through me. He’s not Julian, I remind myself, but the damage is done.

“Can we turn off the light?” I ask, swallowing a moan.

“I want to see you.” Micah kisses me, and I try to relax, focusing on his hands in my hair, the warmth of his body pressed against mine. He loves me and I love him and that right there is all that matters, but as his hands slide under my shirt, my eyes slam open.

“I’m just more comfortable in the dark.”

Micah stills, then nuzzles my neck, nibbles at my ear, and sits back. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the douche in Seattle, would it? Because something tells me the kind of guy who thinks he can dictate your daughter’s favorite color might also figure out a way to get in your head and fuck up your self-esteem.”

I chew my lip, embarrassed to have ruined the moment, and then tell Micah everything. Julian’s disgust with the smattering of stretch marks on my body. His insistence we keep the light off or I keep my shirt on and my mouth closed. Every stupid, shitty, sneering thing he ever said pours out of me.

Micah looks ready to murder someone as he listens, but his expression has softened by the time I finish.

“Come with me,” he says, carefully taking my hand and leading me into the bathroom. We stop in front of the counter, facing the mirror. Micah stands behind me and, meeting my eyes through the glass, he lifts my shirt over my head, then unhooks my bra. It slips from my shoulders and falls to the floor

Micah kisses my shoulders, my neck, my cheek. He draws his fingers across my skin, so gentle, so kind, so warm and real. “I want you to see yourself the way I see you. This is a beautiful body,” he whispers, tracing his fingers along my collarbones and down my arms.

I chew my bottom lip, my eyes locked on his as he caresses my waist, my stomach, my hips.

“Let me show you what this beautiful body of yours can do.”

My lips part and my breath speeds, holding his heated gaze in mine as he fans the flames of desire. He cups me, sliding a finger inside, his palm tapping my clit, his erection pressing against my ass.

If his words weren’t enough to make me feel beautiful, that hard length is a constant reminder of how much he wants me. I like knowing I do that to him. My breath hitches and a moan builds as I press myself into his palm, eager for more, eager for pleasure, eager for him.

Micah kisses my neck, my back, biting into my shoulder as his dark eyes lock on mine through the mirror. I gasp.

“That’s it. Those are the sounds I love. Let me hear you feel good. Look at what I’m doing to you.” He speeds his pace and I drop my gaze to his hand between my thighs, thrusting and slipping, and holy shit, I’m about to watch myself come on his fingers.

Micah grips me by the hips and bends me over the counter. One hand swirls around my clit from the front while he slips a finger into me from behind. His eyes light up as my back arches and he stares down at his hand thrusting and thrusting and thrusting into me. I watch him enjoy what he’s doing, his eyes dark with lust, with raw delight as he fucks me with first one finger, then two. He licks his lips like he can’t wait to taste me and that’s it. That’s all I can handle. In the mirror, my breasts swing as my eyes flutter closed and my inner walls clench and dance. I sag onto the counter, panting and moaning and shrieking his name.

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