Page 37 of Cam's Treasure

Of course, our reasons for our impatience were quite different. While I was excited about the date, Micah was more in the 'let's just get it over with' mindset at the moment, and I couldn't figure out how to change his mind. Or if I should even try.

I'd hinted at Ember a little that Micah might need some extra care and attention, and I hoped he'd understood. I wouldn't mind if Ember focused more on Micah. I just wanted Micah to be happy.

The only reason I was pushing was because I knew Micah's hesitation was based in his insecurities and not actual disinterest. He wanted to get to know Ember, wanted to strengthen their bond. He was just afraid of rejection.

As his mate, it was my job—a job I was happy to do—to make sure he was loved and cared for in the best possible way.

I'd felt protective of Micah since the day we met, since the day I realized what a gentle soul he was. We were still kids back then, and I'd still been discovering myself, but I'd known even then that we would be the best of friends, and that I wanted to keep him safe and happy our whole lives.

It wasn't that Micah was weak. He was the strongest person I knew. He'd had to be, growing up with such sorry excuses for parents. Yet he hadn't let it break him, and now I wanted to make sure nothing ever would. Micah deserved all the love and care in the world, and I was going to make sure he got it.

"Hey," Micah greeted as he stepped into the living room, tugging at the button-down he wore. I'd gotten ready first so I could look for the harness since neither of us could remember where we put it during the move, but now I thought I should've waited for Micah.

"What are you wearing?"

Micah glanced down at himself, and while the pale blue button-down and dark jeans looked great on him, they weren't his clothes or his style. They were mine.

While I had no problem sharing my clothes with Micah—actually, it made my possessive dragon side very happy when he did—I had a feeling he wasn't wearing them because they were my clothes, but because he didn't want to wear his.

"It doesn't look good?" He frowned, tugging at the shirt once more.

"You'd look good in a burlap sack, Micah. That's not the problem. Why aren't you wearing your clothes?"

He shrugged, avoiding my gaze, but I knew the answer anyway. He was afraid. He didn't want to give Ember a reason to dislike him.

He glanced away, probably because he'd heard my conclusion.

Dumbass, I thought fondly, and his eyes flicked up to me. Out loud, I added, "Don't you know how hot you look inyourclothes? And also, Ember's already seen your style, remember?"

When Ember crashed into the backyard a few days ago, Micah had been wearing his favorite shorts and pink crop top, and I'd caught Ember admiring him more than once.

"Really?" Micah asked, and I blinked, wondering which part he was replying to. "He, um, he didn't hate it?"

Deciding the distance between us was too much, I took a few steps, bringing us in touching distance. Gripping his chin lightly, I leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, feeling him shudder under my touch. Fuck, he was so reactive. I loved it.

"He loved it, princess. And soon enough, he's gonna love you. Come on, let me pick out a proper outfit for you."

Micah sighed loudly, but didn't stop me from taking his hand and leading him back to our bedroom. Digging through the closet, I found my favorite one, and turned around with a smile.

Micah's eyes widened as he saw the clothes, and he shook his head. "Isn't that a bit too much? We don't even know where we're going."

Clicking my tongue, I closed the closet door, pressing forward. Micah didn't move back, and our lips hovered inches apart as I gazed at him. "It's not too much, Micah. It's just enough. It's perfect."

Micah blinked, and a trembling breath escaped his lips, as if he'd realized I wasn't just talking about the outfit.

"Now," I said, taking a step back and breaking the moment, "are you going to put it on yourself, or do I have to do it?"

Scowling, Micah grabbed the clothes from my hand, turned to put them on the bed, and started undressing.

I stepped back to lean against the closet and watch unabashedly as he revealed his pale, smooth back. The faint scars on his skin made my blood boil as they always did, butI forced myself to look past them, to focus on the sexy-as-fuck man I loved so much because I knew he was sensitive about his scars. It was why he hadn't asked Uncle Raph to remove them, because he didn't like bringing focus to them.

Micah had to sit on the bed to slide on the skintight leggings, and I licked my lips as the black fabric hugged his firm thighs and his soft bulge. Fuck, watching Micah dress was one of my favorite activities, right below watching himundress.

Micah, used to my staring, continued dressing, sliding on the corset-style dress and turning his back to me expectantly.

Hurrying forward, I grabbed the zip, my thumb trailing over the skin of his back as I slowly pulled the zipper closed.

Turning him around with my hands on his shoulders, I let my eyes trail over him, and hoped he could see and feel my admiration.

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