by Sable Hunter
Madison came out of this climax completely out of breath. They’d both begun to sweat with the exertion and their skin stuck together.
“Again,” Micah urged.
“I can’t,” Madison insisted with a low whimper.
“You can and you will.” This time both Micah’s hands found a home on Madison’s hips and he lifted her up and down, impaling her on his manhood over and over. “Again!” Micah called out after another climax had torn through Madison’s body. He continued to move her up and down slowly. “I told you already. You are to be greedy when you are with me.” He kissed her back again. “You are to use me for your pleasure. One, will never be enough for you. I want you to take what you want, use me to achieve orgasm as many times as you can handle and in as many ways you can think of. I want my girl greedy and satisfied. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Micah.” The words drifted from her lips in a breathy whisper.
Micah gripped her hips hard again and drove up into her. Madison took the pounding. “Again, Madison.”
Every nerve in her body was on fire and when she cried out with another orgasm Micah emptied himself inside of her.
“How many was that?” Madison asked between breaths as she laid back against Micah’s broad chest.
“Enough for now. But I want more later. And Don Juan always gets what he wants.”
An untold story…
Madison sipped her coffee after finishing off the eggs Micah had made them for a late lunch. So far the morning had been amazing. Learning Micah was also a famous author just rocked her world. He was a man with hidden depths. He was also the man she was falling in love with. And not because he was famous or rich or even handsome. Madison was falling for Micah Wolfe because he was kind, good and treated her like gold. But the sex…she wouldn’t argue that the sex was amazing. She’d had no idea anyone was capable of having so many orgasms.
When they’d first left his office to come to the kitchen, Madison was still a little embarrassed, but Micah’s teasing, sweet banter had finally calmed her down until she almost normal–almost. There was still so much about him she hungered to know.
“What is Long Way Down?” she asked.
Standing at the sink, rinsing the dishes, Micah cringed. Of course she’d seen it, she’d been standing right there when he’d spotted her in his study. Colton’s old notebook meant so much to him and Micah always had to answer this question whenever someone saw it encased in his study. “What do you mean?” He hoped she’d just drop the topic.
“I saw a notebook under glass in your study. It looked old and stained, like someone had spilt coffee on it a long time ago.”
“Oh, that. It’s an old notebook Ernest Hemingway used to scribble in,” he told her.
It was the usual lie he told people. It explained the artifact and usually telling people you owned something that once belonged to a famous person was enough to impress them and at the same time, keep them from asking to look closer at it.
“Wow. That’s so cool. Where did you get it?”
Few people in his life knew the real story behind the notebook and those who did were the same ones who’d judged Micah for his relationship with Colton. He was very guarded when he talked about his lost friend, letting very few know the truth. Micah opened his mouth, ready to recite the same old lie about where he’d gotten the book–an auction years ago in Florida…but he just couldn’t do it. Something was keeping him from lying to her.
He turned around, drying his hands with a gray dishtowel and looked at Madison across the room at his big kitchen table. “Hemingway never owned it.”
Madison wasn’t sure what he meant. “He didn’t?”
“No. He didn’t.” Micah made his way over to the table and sat at the far end from her, almost as if the distance could heal the fact that he’d already lied to her.
It hit Madison that maybe he just didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain it to me.”
Micah looked up. “You know. It’s crazy.”
“What’s crazy?”
“I never tell anyone the truth about that notebook, but I want to tell you the truth.”
“Oh, Micah. Really, it’s okay. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. If it’s too private and personal, I understand.”
“It’s a passion project of mine. A friend…Colton was his name.”
“Was?” The pain was visible on his face and Madison wanted to go across the table and hold him, but she let him talk.
“Yes. See. Growing up I had lots of friends. Hell, you’ve met me, I’m charming. People seem to gravitate to me, they always have. Funny thing about people like me is that even though others want to be around us, we rarely have many true friends. Colton was different though. We got along from the get-go. It was as if I’d found my twin the day we met. We liked all the same things and we both had issues with our fathers. We just got along from the jump.
“We were about twelve when we met and inseparable for a long time. But in high school, something changed in Colton. He started to have moods swings. He’d get into fights a lot. His parents took him to doctors and all sorts of specialist. Eventually, they came to the conclusion that he was bi-polar. It’d been there all along, it was just easier to see when he was older.”
Micah spoke, his eyes looking into the distance. Madison hung on his every word.
“He started getting into more and more trouble. Eventually he got kicked out of his house and wound up on the streets.” Some of his friends knew Colton’s story, but very few people ever got the real story from Micah himself and it felt good to be telling Madison things he’d never talked about before. “The doctors’ gave him these meds to take. Sure, they helped with his moods swings, but he hated them. He said they made him feel like a dial-tone, like he was just a flat-line emotionally. No more super-highs or super-lows. He once told me he felt like a robot on them and he’d go off them for short periods and that’s when he’d get in trouble. Eventually he turned to the bottle and even to drugs.” He stopped and got up from the table, pacing into the living room.
Madison got out of her seat and went after him. “Where are you going?”
Micah took a seat on the black leather couch. “You don’t want to hear this.”
She considered letting it go for a second, but realized this might be good for Micah, he’d clearly been holding onto these things for a long time. “You can tell me, Micah.”
Micah looked her up and down from his spot on the couch. She was so perfect, standing there in his shirt. He could easily change the direction of this conversation by seducing her. Go to her and let his emotions out in a sexual way. Oddly enough though, it felt good to share this with her.
He patted a spot on the couch beside him. “I’ll tell you more, but you have to come sit with me. It feels good to have you close.”
Madison went to him willingly and took a seat on the far end of the couch. “Come,” she patted her lap. “Put your head here.”
Micah didn’t hesitate, he stretched out, letting his long legs dangle just over the arm of the sofa and placed his head in her lap. “This is a dangerous place for me to be. Especially with you sans panties.”
Madison stroked his face with her palm and smiled down on him. “Tell me more.”
“Colton was a genius. His parents pushed him to be an engineer. He was never going to revolutionize industries or create a clean energy source, but the boy could write like nobody’s business.”
“I’ve read your stuff, Micah.” She ran her fingers through his now shorter hair and around his head. “You are very talented yourself.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, Fellows, and I agree. I do have talent, but I’m a hack compared to Colton. I tell most people another story.” He remembered what he’d told Avery about Leah, and that had been true. But it wasn’t the whole story. This was. “Colton is the real reason I write.”
“Is this the friend you mentioned at Angel House the night we met?�
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“It is. The last time I saw him, he asked me if I could make him some of that brisket. I’d gone to see him under the MLK overpass where he was living at the time. It’s tough to see someone you care about living under a tarp. I’m responsible for his death.”
“No. He had a problem, but you didn’t cause it Micah.”
“I may not have, but I gave him some money that night before I left to go collect his things and someone stabbed him for it. Colton died because of the money. Money I’d given him.”
Micah moved to sit up but Madison held his head in place. She looked down on him. “You didn’t stab him, Micah. Someone else did. It’s no more your fault that Colton died than it is mine. You never held the knife. You never stabbed him. Someone else did that, not you. I can tell you were his friend and from the sound of it, one of the only true friends he had and you honor him with your writing.”
“I write because of Colton, but I do not honor him with what I write. I was introduced to the world of erotic literature by someone else. If I was really honoring Colton, I’d finish what he started in that notebook.”
“What’s in the notebook?”
“Colton was always writing in his notebooks. He said his head was full of stories. He told me that writing down his ideas was one of the few things that made him feel normal. I’d gone to Angel House the night he was stabbed to get his meds and the notebooks he always carried with him. When I got there they were gone, he hadn’t had a lock to put on his locker and someone had stolen them.”
“That’s why you had the extra locks the night I met you.”
“That’s why. When I got back, I called 911 and the paramedics worked on him, but it was too late. The paramedics found one notebook on Colton and gave it to me. It was one of his most prized possessions. You asked what is in the book...”
“Yes. What’s in it?”
“One of the things Colton and I always loved growing up was detective novels. We’d sit and watch Humphrey Bogart movies for hours. Hell, we even went through a phase when we were fourteen where we wore trench coats everywhere we went. We’d get laughed at, but we didn’t care, we loved it. We watched China Town so many times we could both recite it line for line. We both loved those noir style films. It’s probably the main reason I got into the intelligence field of the military. Colton and I both wanted to be detectives when we grew up.”
“So, Long Way Down is a detective story?”
“Yes, Long Way Down was going to be Colton’s first book. He’d been working on it for years. The problem with Colton was that he had trouble focusing on things, so he rarely ever finished a story. But you could see the genius in the small stuff he would write. With Long Way Down, mostly he just jotted down ideas. A sentence here, a paragraph there. Every time he’d get an idea for it, he’d write it down in that notebook.”
“So what’s keeping you from writing it for him?”
“Fear.”
“Fear?”
“Fear that I won’t do him justice. Fear that it’ll never be as good as it could have been if Colton wrote it. Fear that I’ll let my friend down.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“It may be. I keep that book out on display and I lie to people when they ask about it. I want it there so I can see it every day. So it feels like Colton is there every time I walk by it. But it taunts me. Makes me feel like a failure. Like I’ve let my friend down by never finishing it for him.”
“Then don’t write it like Colton would write it. Write it how Micah Wolfe would write it. Write it how Don Juan would write it. That’s what Colton would want you to do. Not as him, but as yourself. I have no doubt you could get it published.” Micah sat up and looked at her. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“You’re right.”
“I am?”
“Yes, you are. I never thought of it that way. I’ve spent years worrying about writing it and fucking it up, but I’ve always thought I had to do it how Colton would’ve done it.” He got up off the couch. “My God. You’re right. The best way to honor Colton is to take his idea and do it my way.” He went to his knees in front of Madison and placed his head back in her lap, hugging her knees. “What have you done to me, Fellows?”
“Nothing bad I hope.”
Micah lifted his head and looked at her. “Nothing bad at all. Everything is just better when you’re around. Where have you been all my life?”
Micah raced off to his study.
“Where are you going?” Madison followed and walked in to see Micah taking the notebook from under the glass. “You’re starting today?”
Micah turned to look at her with the book in his hand. He placed it on his desk. “No, but I’m taking it out from under that damn glass. It’s been locked away too long.” He came around the desk towards her and swept her up in his arms. “Right now. I’ve got a headboard to break.”
A proposition…
“Let me think about it. I’ll get back to you,” Micah said, then ending the call, placing the phone on the vanity. “Good to see your handsome face again, Wolfe.” He checked out his reflection after wiping shaving cream from his face. The novelty of the beard had worn off quickly and after he’d seen what the coarse hair had done to Madison’s face when they were demolishing his headboard, he’d decided to shave it off that night before a shower.
Madison was still recovering in the bed. Micah hadn’t even been home for twenty-four hours, but already they’d had sex three times and she’d had more orgasms then she could count. If she didn’t think it was crude, she would’ve asked him to fetch her a bucket of ice for her private parts.
Micah came out of the bathroom naked, drops of water on his body, his big cock dangled between his legs and Madison could see it was red from all the sex they’d had today. “You’ll never guess what just happened before I got in the shower.”
Madison sat up in the bed. “What’s wrong?
“That was Avery McCoy on the phone a few minutes ago. She just called to ask me if I want to be a part of a book tour with her.”
“Avery?”
He explained briefly his association with the McCoy’s. “Avery is Isaac’s wife. She’s also Sable Hunter. I don’t know if you’ve heard of her.”
“I have!” Madison’s eyes grew wide. “I’ve read some of her stuff and enjoyed it.” She grinned at him. “Never as much as Don Juan’s though. Just knowing a man had written it made the story sexier for me. I always imagined what he’d be like and fantasized about him. And now…I know why.”
“When you read my books, did you play with yourself?”
Madison blushed. “Did you say book tour? I thought you wrote under a pen name to keep your privacy?”
Her deflection was as good as a ‘yes’ response and seeing she was embarrassed, he let it go. “I do, but Avery and I share a publisher and she asked them about a book tour and they told her it was a good idea for her. Somehow, they got to talking more and the publisher mentioned they were going to approach me to finally step out from behind my pen name and go public. Avery told them she knew me and she would ask me personally. So, she just did. She wants me to go out on tour with her. Hit some conventions. Do some readings and book signings.”
Madison wiggled in the bed. “How exciting! Your fans would absolutely die to meet you. Don Juan unmasked. Are you going to do it?”
Micah sat on the bed beside her. “I literally just got home from running for my life in Mexico for two weeks. I’m exhausted.”
Madison placed a hand on his broad shoulder and pulled him back onto the bed to lie down beside her. She traced a soft fingertip across his chest. “You did say you wanted to get out of here when you got back from Mexico.”
Micah closed his eyes and just enjoyed her touch. “Did I? Shit.” He thought about it. “You think it’s a good idea to do it?” Micah was used to making decisions on his own and it felt good to have someone special to talk to about it.
“Well, that depends on you really. I think any
one who knows you understands how much you love the limelight.”
“Ouch, Fellows. Tell me what you really think.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No. It’s fair to say I love the attention. I never really wanted to be a big celebrity with the writing, but I have been to a few conventions and signings as a spectator. They look like a blast. Maybe I should do it.”
“I think you’d love it. And you would definitely charm the pants off your readers.”
“I did say I wanted to get out of here, didn’t I?”
“You did. Where would you be going?”
“Avery didn’t get into specifics. She just wanted to run it by me. She mentioned Dallas and Memphis and Savannah, Georgia. I told her it would be nice to spend some time back up north, so she’s going to try and get the publisher to agree to Boston. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like it’s settled then. You’re going.”
Micah sat up on one elbow, the man was a slice of gorgeous with a heaping of sex appeal on top and he smiled at Madison. “Where would you go if you could go anywhere?”
“Oh, God. I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to go to Paris.”
“That’s in Georgia isn’t it?”
“Not really what I had in mind. You’d better call Avery back and let her know you’re in.”
“I never said I was totally in. I still need to figure out one very important thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll need a personal assistant.”
“I’m sure you can find one.” Madison hoped he meant a male assistant. She didn’t really want to think of him with another woman, even if she was his employee.
Micah brushed a lock of hair out of her face. “I already have. She’s sitting right in front of me.” He kissed her on the lips softly. “I hope you’re ready, Fellows. ‘Cause I’m going to need a very personal assistant.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dallas…
“I want you to give me things to do, Micah. If I’m going to be your assistant, I need to know I’m doing my job.”