by Jo Raven
She’s staring down at it. It twitches in greeting.
Fuck. “Ride me,” I whisper.
We both moan when I tease her opening with the head of my dick, then she’s opening for me, and I’m slipping inside her. The pleasure is fucking insane. I push deeper, and she takes me until I’m seated in her heat all the way.
This isn’t gonna last long. All the damn stress of the day is catching up with me, all that pressure needs an outlet, and she’s velvet and fire clenched around me. I snap my hips up, driving into her, and she puts her hands on my shoulders and bends forward. Her breasts are right where I want them, and I take a stiff nipple in my mouth, sucking and licking, as she rocks on top of me, breathless moans leaving her lips.
“Micah, I…” Her head falls back, and her back arches. She ripples around my dick. She’s about to come, and the realization makes my balls draw tight. I thrust faster, harder, and she cries out, tightening like a fist around me.
Oh shit. My dick jerks. I wrap my arms around her waist and bury my face against her breasts as I come hard, shaking against her.
“Oh God,” she breathes, still moving, sending aftershocks of pleasure through me. “Shit, Micah.”
I’m still holding on as if she might vanish into smoke. I refuse to let go, remember what happened today, what we talked about before we got lost in pleasure. I don’t fucking want this moment to end.
Refuse to admit it will and reality with come crashing down around me.
Hell, it always does.
“Are you asleep?” Ev murmurs, lazily trailing a fingertip down my chest to my stomach. She’s lying half on top of me on the sofa. We never made it to bed.
“And if I say yes?” I grin down at her, but she doesn’t smile. She seems to be in deep thought.
Deep thought is exactly what I’m trying to avoid right now. Good thing she’s naked, distracting me. I run a hand over the curve of her hip and brush it over her belly.
She shivers. “Why aren’t you still mad at me?” She watches my hand as it travels down to her thigh. “I reported Blake, Micah. Did you hear me before when I said that?”
My hand stops. Here it comes. I’m not ready yet. I move my hand lower, between her legs, and she gasps when I tease her seam open with my thumb.
“Do you want me to stop?” I stroke her, and her eyes close as her breathing speeds up. “Would you rather talk instead?”
Shit, she’s so ready. I dip my finger inside her again and again until she moans my name and comes apart in my arms, convulsing.
I’m breathing just as hard as she is. Reaching down for my junk, I find it rock hard and wet. I tug on it, and then her hand closes over mine.
“Micah. Did Seth say anything else to you about his assailants?”
All air leaves my lungs. “He did.”
There it comes, the sound of reality rushing back. Deafening.
“What did he say?”
“He said…” I lick my lips, and the cold fills me up again. “They claimed they did it for you. What did you do, Ev? What the hell did you do?”
“Me?” She flinches and pulls back. “You think I did this to Seth? That I sent people to beat him up?”
The hurt on her face is too much. “To hell with it, Ev. You asked what Seth said. And you always act scared around him and avoid him, and then you left from the hospital acting all upset. What is the truth?”
She gets up, and all the warmth leaves me. My teeth clack together, and my skin breaks out in goose bumps. I sit up and watch her standing with her back to me.
“You’re right,” she says, her voice barely audible. “I should have told you everything from the start.”
“Everything? That sounds like a lot.”
Her shoulders slump. She turns to face me. “Remember you asked me what scares me?”
“You said Blake. Very ex-boyfriend.”
A faint smile tugs on her lips. “Right. Well, he obviously doesn’t get the ‘ex’ part. Plus he has an issue with me talking to people on the street. So he threatened to hurt any homeless person I might talk to.”
Shit. I blink at nothing. “But Seth isn’t homeless anymore.”
“Blake said he kept track of the faces of every homeless person I’d taken care of before my accident. I wouldn’t put it past him to have photos of all of them. He’s sick. I thought he was just trying to frighten me, and some time passed with nothing happening, so I thought it would be all right, but then this happens…” She throws her hands into the air, and her mouth trembles. “This is my fault, for thinking Blake wouldn’t do it.”
I gape at her. The hell. “I’m gonna kill that fucker,” I say, my voice a growl. “Where is he?”
“Micah, no.” She returns to me, kneeling on the sofa next to me. “Don’t do anything. Get Seth to file a report, and combined with mine it should be enough to get a restraining order for Blake, for both me and Seth.”
“What about others? What about Shane?” What about me?
This sucks serious ass.
“I mentioned this to the police. I’ll have to avoid Seth and Shane for now, until we see what happens. Blake may have a record already. They’re looking into it.”
“You don’t…” I struggle to suck in breath. “Don’t understand.”
“What?” She’s looking at me, her eyes clear.
She reported the asshole. He’s being investigated, watched. Why should I scare her now by telling her I was on the streets, too? I can take care of myself. I’ll be careful.
“Nothing.” I pull her to me. “Will you stay?”
“Let me just text my brother.”
“And your parents?”
“I moved out.”
She did? When did that happen?
She jumps off the sofa in search of her discarded clothes and her cell phone, leaving me to stare after her.
Would she move in with me? Would Seth mind? Would she like it?
Oh shit. Too soon. I lean back and close my eyes. I’ll scare her. She barely knows me.
Too bad I’m not sure I can live without her anymore.
Chapter Twelve
Evangeline
When I leave in the morning, Micah insists he should accompany me, but I tell him no.
Truth is, I’m a bit worried about him. He looks good today as I kiss his warm lips and reluctantly pull away from his arms to go to work. But last night he wandered the streets for hours, frozen to the bone, and he coughed so badly. It scared me.
Besides, even after making love he seemed distant. Kind of disconnected.
He still doesn’t feel one hundred percent there. His eyes track me as I walk backward on the dim landing toward the stairs, but they’re flat like mirrors. What’s going on in his mind? Is he regretting being with me? What it cost his friend and the danger I put them in… Maybe he’s done with me?
But the way he clutched me to him, the way he pleasured me… The way he listened and acted like he believed me even though he has every reason to distrust me right now—the way he reacted, the anger on his face when I told him about Blake... He didn’t seem about to send me away.
Then why did he shut off afterward? He seems to be in a daze. Maybe the attack on Seth shook him worse than he lets on, and knowing what I know now about his past...
I shouldn’t have left him alone, I think as I hurry to work, smoothing down my wrinkled pants. Seth isn’t there.
He’s not a kid, though. He’s a grown man, and I’m not sure what I could do if I stayed home with him except drive him crazy. Still… Thank God tomorrow is weekend. It can’t come fast enough.
Cassie gestures at me to talk later, but customers keep us busy until it’s time for me to go.
“Are you okay?” she asks as I grab my stuff and get ready to leave.
“I moved out,” I say and laugh when she pumps her fist.
“Did you call Kayla?”
“I’ll call her now.” Someone is standing across the street, and fear curls in my stomach. Is it Blake or
someone he sent? Does he know I reported him to the police? There’s so much I want to tell Cassie, ask her opinion, but more customers file in and she sighs, turning to meet them. “I’ll call you, too.”
“Yeah, you must tell me how it went!”
She puts on her bright smile and strides off to see what the customers want. I linger, unwilling to go just yet. I glance again at the guy across the street—and laugh.
This time it’s Micah.
I hurry over to him, and before I can speak, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me in for a long, hot kiss. The world brightens and then melts away as he buries his face in my neck and whispers my name.
I love him. God, I love him so much. I cling to him and the worry fades. Everything will be fine.
“Going for coffee?” he asks, and his warm breath on my skin sends me into a full body shudder.
“Actually I was going to call a girl to see if we can be roommates.” I draw back, and his blue eyes lock with mine.
“Ev, you know you can stay with me until you decide what to do, right?”
I hug him tight. “Thank you. I’m staying at my brother’s. I’m okay.”
He nods, a flicker of emotion—disappointment? relief?—flashing over his face. “Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”
I sense more under his words, but don’t press it. “How’s Seth doing?”
“They’re thinking of releasing him tomorrow.” He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me toward the donut place. “They’re a bit worried about the bruising in his kidneys.” His throat works.
I don’t know what to say to make this better.
We enter the donut shop, order our coffees, and step out to sit on the cold bench. Seems like years since we first sat here together. Silence stretches between us, easy and full.
Micah puts his Styrofoam cup on the table and stares down at it. He seems to be struggling with something.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “For believing the worst. For last night.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I say. “I’m not sorry for last night. And you couldn’t know, not without me telling you what the deal with Blake was.”
“I should know better.” This is obviously weighing on him. “I know you, dammit. Should’ve trusted you.”
“Not your fault.” I smile at him. “And you don’t know me so well yet.”
“Don’t let me off the hook so easily. Listen, Ev…” He pushes his hand through his short hair. It’s a nervous gesture, and I frown. “I wanted to tell you…”
A cell phone beeps, and we both flinch.
With a sigh, he digs it out of his jacket. Looks like he went and got himself a new one in the morning. “Micah,” he growls into the phone. “What is it?”
The husky sound brings back a rush of memories from last night and desire shoots through me. I squirm on the bench, breathless.
He glances at me, his eyes hardening. “Fine, I’ll be there.” He disconnects the call.
“Is everything okay?”
“Have to go to Damage. Zane is leaving, and I need to hold the fort.”
“Right.” I nod and start to get up. “Maybe I’ll see you later, then.”
His eyes soften. “Yeah. Will you come by?”
“Your apartment. After ten.” I watch his smile widen, and I can’t help smiling back.
“Be careful,” he says, pulling me to my feet and drawing me flush against his long, strong body. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I promise. Micah…”
He kisses me hard, before I get a chance to ask him the same. Then again, he doesn’t have a psychopath of a boyfriend stalking him.
Evening is falling by the time I find myself on the familiar porch of my parents’ house. I open and step inside, hesitating in the hall. I’ve no idea how my parents will react.
Mom is dozing in front of the TV, dressed in her bathrobe. I slip by her, unnoticed, and hurry up to my room. Dad doesn’t make an appearance and I slip inside.
What to take with me? I feel like a fugitive. It’s weird. I’m not afraid of my parents. I just don’t want another fight so soon, and I think telling them about Blake could bring on an argument of epic dimensions. They’ll probably accuse me of blowing things out of proportion, of having no proof Blake did anything…
I can’t take any more of this now. I think spending some time away from them may help patch things up between us. It’ll also give me time to hopefully get a restraining order for Blake and maybe even find proof he hurt Seth.
Pressing my lips together, I grab a duffel bag and start throwing clothes inside. Guilt swamps me. I should have told Seth what Blake’s deal was from the beginning. Not telling him allowed this to happen.
Blake is a dangerous asshole. I should never have doubted it.
I grab shoes, socks, underwear, jeans, skirts, sweaters and books. I turn in a circle. What is important from my life here? What should I bring along? They are all ties anchoring me here, and what I need is to move away.
I pack my tablet, and I zip my bag up. Ready. I lift it over my shoulder and open the door.
“Evie?”
I freeze. Dad is standing outside, his cell phone in one hand. His gaze shifts to my bag, and he scowls.
“So, that’s it?” he asks, sounding in equal measures angry and defeated. “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, Dad. I’m leaving.”
I expect him to start yelling, or to insult me, tell me I’m an idiot, or a slut. But he doesn’t. His body seems to deflate, sagging forward.
“You take care of yourself,” he says gruffly and before I can react—like, what the hell just happened?—he pulls me in for a quick hug.
“Dad?” I’m in shock. This must be it. “You okay?”
He releases me. “Your mom and I love you, you know that, right? Joel told us lots of worrying things, Blake, too, so we may have overreacted a little.”
“A little?” I can’t help myself. “You made me feel like crap for wanting to follow my own path, Dad. You made me feel like a loser.”
He shakes his head, paling. “You’re not a loser, Evie. You’re like your mother: quiet but strong. Whatever you put your mind into, you can do.”
Who are you, and what have you done with my dad?
I think of our arguments. I think of Blake. I think of Micah, and how I miss him already, even though it’s only been an hour since we parted.
I clear my throat, not knowing what to say. “Thanks. I’ll, um. I’ll be seeing you. I’ll visit. Tell Mom, too, please?”
I leave quickly, not waiting for his reply. Adrenaline makes my limbs shake. I cross the living room quietly, not to wake up mom. I look at her for a long moment, her face relaxed in sleep.
“Love you, Mom,” I whisper. “I think this is for the best.”
One last look, and I let myself out into the cold, clear night.
I unlock Joel’s apartment with the extra key he gave me and drag my bag inside. It’s dark and quiet. Nobody’s home. Joel has practice until late on Fridays, and the elusive Jethro is just never there.
I don’t know where to put my stuff, so I just place the bag in a corner and go take a shower and change into clean clothes. Feeling more human, I grab my tablet from my bag and connect to the Wi-Fi to check my emails and Facebook. I find a friend request from Cassie, which I accept, then find the site of the runaway board and re-read the page about the training. I jot down the numbers, so I can call them—which reminds me I was supposed to call Kayla about the apartment.
I check the time. It’s not too late. Barely nine PM.
The girl who answers, identifying herself as Kayla, is friendly and nice. She says my room would be small but that the apartment is refurbished and has lots of light. The most important thing: my share of the rent is quite low and affordable with my salary.
Excited, I ask when we could meet, and she says tomorrow is fine. Yeah! We agree on early afternoon, and as soon as I disconnect, I jump to my feet and do a
little victory dance.
Finally, finally I’m changing my life around. Away from my parents, away from Joel, I can make decisions about the future on my own, do the things that are important to me.
Be with the people that matter to me.
Micah. I realize he’s the one person I want to share my news with first, so I calm enough to call his new cell, let him know about this new development.
He doesn’t answer. Well, he’s still at work. Maybe he’s in the middle of a tattoo.
The doorbell, rings and I frown. The door has no peephole, so I shout, “Who is it?”
“Jethro,” a muffled voice says. “Forgot my keys.”
The infamous Jethro? Curious in spite of myself, I crack the door open—and it flies into my face, throwing me backward. I barely catch myself not to fall.
Blake stands at the door, grinning. “Gotcha,” he says.
Oh shit. I look around for a weapon, anything, and I see a heavy ashtray on the coffee table. I stumble over and lift it, weighing it in my hand.
“Don’t come closer,” I warn. I raise the ashtray.
He starts laughing. “Don’t be such a stupid bitch, little Evie. I’m not here to hurt you.”
Anger and fear clog my throat. “Then go.”
“Why? I just came in. Won’t you offer me a drink?” He steps closer and my grip on the ashtray tightens. “Won’t you offer me hospitality? Don’t I deserve it more than the bums you call your friends?”
“Shut up.” I want to smash his hated face in. “Leave, Blake. Now.”
“This isn’t your apartment, and Joel isn’t here to tell me to go, so…” He shrugs.
What a douchebag. “I’m not staying here to listen to your bullshit. I’m calling Joel. He’ll tell you to leave me alone.”
“Will he now? Joel thinks the best of me, and why shouldn’t he? I’m only looking out for you.”
“Looking out? You had Seth beaten up. He’s lucky he’s alive. Did you take part in it, or did you send your buddies to keep your own hands clean?”
He tsks. “Seth. Who cares about him? I warned you, baby. Told you to stay away from those streetbums. My buddy Alex lent me a hand, but honestly? I enjoyed kicking the shit out of Seth. I hope he pisses blood for days.”