Page 13 of Edge
Mickey reluctantly reached for it. “Thank you.” Even Mickey heard the question in his voice.
“You’re very welcome.” For a heartbeat, right before Field turned away, Mickey caught a glimpse behind Field’s mask. It froze his blood.
Luckily, Edge spoke against his ear, saving him. “Field doesn’t believe in receiving gifts without reciprocation. This is really important for his mental health. Please go along.”
Mickey pasted on a bright smile he didn’t feel and lifted the lid on the box. It was a t-shirt with Edge’s face printed on it. A surprised bark of laughter escaped him. Several people flashed proud smiles his way, as if praising him for being a good sport.
“Ah man. Your gift spoiled mine.”
Mickey looked behind him at the comment. Edge held up a shirt with Mickey’s picture on it. He couldn’t stop laughing. “Oh my god. Where did you even get that picture?”
Field’s smile was unrepentant. “Tracker pulled it off one of the recordings. I got your good side.”
“My every side is good.”
Everyone roared with laughter.
Edge leaned forward. “Damn right.” He swiped his lips across Mickey’s and Mickey’s chest warmed. Edge wasn’t hiding this… whatever it was. Mickey didn’t know what to think, but he knew how he felt. Every moment with Edge felt good. He could get addicted to this.
He was a good person. Like, genuinely. Mickey had a good heart. He had no idea the story behind how Mickey ended up working for someone like Beau Bosi, but damn. He was wonderful.
Peanut butter was such a small thing to almost everyone. But not only was it something Field loved, Mickey had gotten him that gift at his own detriment. Then he had gone on to act like Field’s gift brought him joy. Not just anyone would have stepped into that party and handled everything so beautifully. Edge couldn’tget past it. By the end of the gathering, Mickey wore the shirt. Seeing Field’s happiness was priceless to him. Mickey couldn’t possibly know.
The moment they were in his bedroom alone, Edge had him hauled against him. His tongue was in Mickey’s mouth, and he couldn’t get enough. Mickey didn’t question his intensity. He was right there, matching Edge’s passion. Edge went straight for the button on Mickey’s jeans, and they still stood a foot behind his closed door. The hunger he felt went way beyond physical. Mickey made him desperate for something bigger. He terrified Edge in a good way. Edge had thought of nothing else all day. He wanted to say it, but he couldn’t think of a way to express himself without scaring him away. So he released the madness the only way he could. He ripped open the front of Mickey’s jeans like a rabid fiend.
In a flash, he was over Mickey’s shoulder and headed for the bed. No one had ever manhandled him like this. Edge loved it. Mickey tossed him onto the bed and covered Edge’s body with his. He was everywhere.
“Am I allowed to do to you what you did to me last night?”
God. He was adorable. “You can do anything you want to me.” He might have stopped to think a little harder about that one if he wasn’t so horny. Mickey made him lose himself. That was a good thing. Edge did a decent job of hiding it, but he was ugly inside. One day, Mickey would see it and then never look back. Until that day, yeah. They would do whatever he wanted, and he would pray his mind didn’t come unglued.
“Good.” Mickey slithered down his body and had Edge’s dick in his mouth before Edge had time to realize this was what he meant. Relief poured through him every bit as deeply as the pleasure of Mickey’s hot mouth. Truthfully, it was obvious this was something Mickey didn’t really do. Edge had never been more unbothered and happy. He was just overjoyed to have Mickey’s mouth on him and his sanity mostly intact.
Edge tried to focus on everything Mickey did. He couldn’t take it. Last night had been too amazing. He had to get inside Mickey again.
He pushed, urging Mickey onto his back. “Sorry. I just need to be inside you. You’re too much temptation.”
Mickey didn’t look bothered. In fact, he looked turned on and ready to do anything.
Edge didn’t do all the talking him through things again. This time, he worked quicker and pushed his way inside before he should. Mickey’s entire body language screamed Edge had hurt him, but he didn’t make a sound. If he protested, Edge wouldn’t know because his brain short-circuited.
Edge scrambled away. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” He tried taking a few breaths. It didn’t help. His vision darkened around the edges. Babbled words fell from his lips. He had a bad feeling he confessed things he never would. Edge wasn’t sure Mickey heard a word either from trying to calm him.
“Take a breath. I’m fine. I swear I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me. Okay? I’d never agree to anything I couldn’t handle. Just breathe.”
Edge tried, but nothing happened.
Mickey climbed from the bed and yanked on his pants.
Fear of him leaving made everything twice as bad. “Please don’t go. I’m sorry I’m a mess, but fuck. Don’t go.”
Mickey climbed back on to the bed and dragged Edge beneath him. He held him so tightly, he could barely draw the breath Mickey demanded he take. “I’m not going anywhere. You just need me dressed. I need you to know I’m not here for the sex. Please, just let me hold you while you do whatever this is.”
The statement cut straight through his PTSD attack. His entire body shook with laughter. He practically felt the way Mickey had wanted to tell him to calm down, but didn’t want to use those words. Edge swore he heard all the things Mickey was scared to say. He was a huge mess. There was no tiptoeing around that. When the laughter died, the embarrassment struck. Damn. All that had really happened. He wouldn’t hear from Mickey again, and he completely understood. Edge wouldn’t choose himself either.
“Well, shit. I really know how to ruin a good thing.”
He felt Mickey smile against his ear. “Nothing is ruined. Do you want to hear something sad?”
