Page 18 of Lose Me In The Shadows

How had he fucked up so badly? Where had he gone wrong? Micah had enough humility to admit that Kara had mentally and emotionally put him through his paces. She was as smart as he was, one of the reasons he was so obsessed with her, and he was so fucked up over her he hadn’t thought as clearly as he usually did. But even when they tested her, she reacted so quickly she still ended up one step ahead of him. Even with the gun in her hand, he hadn’t believed she’d actually shoot. Violence might turn Kara on, but it didn’t seem like it was in her DNA. She’d been angrier than he’d realized. He’d thought she’d come around on them, and even if she had some—she couldn’t have been faking the emotional intimacy growing between them in those last days together—her anger had controlled her. And she’d gotten the drop on Luke. Truthfully, she would’ve made a damn good SEAL.

He’d had a plan. She’d had her own.

And her plan had won out, and now Micah didn’t know what to do. The last time he’d felt this lost, he’d just been kicked out of his childhood home.

The Doctor cleared his throat, cutting Micah’s ruminating short.

Conor dropped his hands from his face and rose to his feet. Those same strong hands fisted. Seeing Conor’s hands usually had a sexual Pavlovian effect on Micah, but not now.

“I’m done,” the Doctor said.

“Will he fully recover?” Micah asked.

“Should,” the Doctor said. “You can move him to a bed once he wakes up.” And then he just walked away. But then the medical professional-turned-assassin wasn’t known for his bedside manner.

“Oh, thank fucking god,” Conor said, knees buckling from relief. Micah grabbed him just in time.

God had come through, apparently. Micah almost laughed, in absurdity—and relief.

Marcus glanced at them. “You owe us,” he said, following his partner out.

You owe us.Marcus’s favorite three words, for as long as Micah had known the man. Marcus and Micah had first crossed paths six months ago, when Micah put his, Conor’s, and Luke’s services as killers-for-hire up on the dark web. Marcus had been their first client. He’d explained, at the time, that although “his partners” were fully capable of carrying out the hit themselves, he didn’t want to risk it getting traced back to him. Micah had accepted the job, but the manipulator in him saw the manipulator in Marcus and decided that instead of risking having the man as a future enemy, it was better to make him a friend. Marcus had clearly felt the same way, and what had begun as an uneasy alliance blossomed into mutual respect.

But that didn’t mean Micah wouldn’t still have to pay at some point.

Worth it, to have Luke whole and well.

Conor had moved over to the kitchen island, where he stared down at Luke impassively. His neck and shoulders were tight, but his hands were trembling.

“We need to decide what we’re doing about Kara,” Micah said.

Conor didn’t respond. Micah resisted sighing, knowing it would be dramatic and out of place, but really. Luke, thank fucking god, was safe, which meant they had to turn their attention to the troublemaker in their foursome.

“Boss…”

Conor grunted.

Micah tried again. “Don’t you think we need to go find her and get her back?”Conor growled.

Hmm.The wrong tactic, maybe. Conor hated being told what to do; he had to be coaxed into it. He was like Kara that way.

Checking to make sure they were alone, Micah moved toward Conor, slowly tugging open his more dominant partner’s pants as he lowered to his knees.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Conor snapped.

Micah ignored him, slowly, gently, pulling Conor’s long, thick cock from the strict confines of his jeans and stroking it once, twice, three times.

“Stop,” Conor ordered, but his cock contradicted him as it hardened in Micah’s hand.

“Don’t you think Kara needs to pay for what she’s done?” Micah kissed the tip. “Don’t you want her in this exact same position, kissing your cock as she begs us for forgiveness?” Micah licked the underside from stalk to tip, satisfied when it jerked. “Isn’t this where she belongs, here, in this kitchen, on her knees in front of you?” He sucked Conor deep, hollowing out his cheeks to get the right friction going.

Conor groaned, dropping a hand to Micah’s head. “I know what you’re doing.” But he let Micah continue.

Releasing him, Micah kept his voice gentle. “I know you’re angry at her. At me. At yourself. I know you feel guilty, and you want to punish yourself. But we can’t lose her.”

And maybe, for once, he wanted to be seen—by Conor, and not only Kara. So he said, “Ican’t lose her. I don’t think I’ll survive it.”

Micah went back to work, opening his throat and working Conor’s cock with his hand and mouth, feeling the other man harden even further. He reached down with his other hand to rub his own cock, wishing Kara were there so she could soothe his need after. So they could share her.

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