by Leila James
Micah says something I can’t hear over the music in my ears as he grips my shoulders and steadies me.
I yank my earbuds out and shove them in my pocket. “What?”
“I said sorry.” He squats down to pick up the book I dropped and hands it back to me with a sheepish grin. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I hold the book to my chest for a few seconds, blinking up at him before I turn and put it in the appropriate spot on the shelf. That done, I exhale sharply. He’s clearly got some reason for being here, but I have no idea what it is. Convincing myself that I’m ready to deal with him, I spin back around. “Is there something I can help you with, Micah?”
He stands, unmoving, studying my face while blood rushes to my cheeks. His lips twist a bit. Tell me he’s not here to make fun of me. Because no doubt, he’d seen the whole cringe-worthy incident in the hallway, everything from me falling down with my skirt flipped up to the Child from The Mandalorian smiling up at everyone from my panties. Heat races through my body at the thought of Micah’s eyes on my ass.
He runs his hand over his jawline, like he’s thinking about it. “Not really. I—”
“Look, Micah, I’m not really in the mood for games.”
He reaches out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
My breath stutters at his touch. It’s unexpectedly gentle and completely mind-blowing. Confusion fogs my mind.
“I came by to make sure you and Grogu were okay.”
A flicker of surprise zips through me, but I huff in frustration. “Why do you even care? And if you truly had, you wouldn’t have stood there and watched while everyone laughed.” I will not tell him I’m secretly impressed that not only does he know the character on my panties isn’t Baby Yoda, but he also knows the Child’s real name. I will not.
He steps closer, gripping my chin with his fingers and forcing me to maintain eye contact. His eyes narrow on mine before they slide down to my lips. He drags the pad of his thumb over the lower one. Tucking his head close to mine, he whispers against the shell of my ear, “You’re right.”
I turn my head just slightly so that my lips are a hair’s breadth from the warmth of his neck. I breathe out, “About what?”
We’re both very still for several seconds before he rasps, “Everything. I should have said something. I just— I don’t want to make things worse for you.”
I don’t get a chance to think about what Micah’s said because his huge hands settle on my hips, fingers pressing into my skin through my skirt. My breath hitches, and I feel dizzy. Heat infuses my body from head to toe as my mind stumbles, trying hard to keep up. I don’t have any previous experience with guys—nothing like this. My fingers scramble for purchase, clutching at his biceps. With a tumultuous leap, my heart takes off racing as Micah backs me up to a bookstack.
“What are you doing?” I’m embarrassed to admit that my voice sounds panicked to my ears. I don’t know if he notices, but it doesn’t seem to matter as he presses closer to me.
“Let’s call it an experiment. You like science.”
I open my mouth, but words won’t form. What does he mean by an experiment?
“I’m going to be wondering what you’re hiding under your skirt every fucking day now. It’s so not fair,” he growls. “And I really want”—his right hand slides from my hip to cup my ass—“to see your panties up close and personal, but I’m guessing the librarians wouldn’t approve if they found you flat on your back with my head between your legs.” He squeezes my butt firmly, and a rush of arousal pools between my legs.
Panties. Wet.
My lips part. No one has ever said anything so dirty to me before. And it’s throwing me for a real loop. It’s finally happening and with Micah Robertson, someone I’m not at all sure I can trust. My throat works down a hard swallow as his lips brush along my neck, grazing the skin. Oh, God. Is it awful that I want him to keep doing that?
My heart is about to rocket out of my chest and zoom around the library. Micah’s nose nudges along my jaw as he places open-mouthed kisses just below. His hot breath on my skin has my body lighting up like paparazzi camera flashes, one burst right after another, until I’m absolutely overwhelmed by sensation. He grips my thigh and lifts it until I instinctively wrap it around his hip. A deep sound rumbles up from his chest as his powerful body molds to mine.
Oh. Oh my God. Micah’s dick is hard. I can feel it against my belly, long and thick. His hand slides up the underside of my thigh, fingers slipping beneath the hem of my panties where he palms the bare skin of my ass. I’m so surprised, I make a little sound in the back of my throat.
“You like my hands on you, Daphne?”
I full-on whimper. “I-I don’t understand you.” My body desperately wants what my brain fights to reject.
He angles his pelvis just right, grinding the hard ridge of his erection over my clit. He kisses my neck again and rocks himself against me.
I think I must be out of my mind because the more he does it, the more I seek out the friction we’re creating. Throwing my head back, my hips undulate in a rhythm I don’t think I’ve ever truly experienced until this moment.
“Fuck, Daph. Do you understand me now?”
I’m so lost in the feel of him, I can’t even answer, and the leg I’m standing on begins to shake.
“Daphne? I’ve got some more books for you to shelve, honey.” Mrs. Traiger’s soft voice floats to us from a few stacks over, and a squeaky wheel on her cart jolts me right out of the lusty fog Micah has me in.
My breath catches in my throat.
His tongue slides up the hollow of my neck, and he thrusts against me again. I make a noise I’ve never heard before. It’s a strangled, wild, needy sound.
“Micah. Micah, stop.” And even as I say it, I grind down on his cock like a mad woman.
“You don’t want me to stop.”
Mrs. Traiger’s slow footfalls come closer. “Daphne?” Another squeak from the cart.
Finally, I find the strength to answer her as I push against Micah’s chest. “I’m over here.”
Micah nips at my neck, releases my leg, and steps back just as Mrs. Traiger’s head pokes around the corner.
“Oh. Sorry, dear, were you helping Micah find something?”
I bite my lip and nod, scanning the titles next to me, but not reading them. I reach up and select a book at random, handing it to Micah. “Here you go.”
He takes it from me. When he glances down, he stutters his reply. “O-oh.” His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, but then he smirks a little. “Thanks for this, Daphne.”
Oh, fucking hell, what book did I give him? “Anytime. You can check it out up front.”
“Thanks, I’ll do that.” Micah chuckles, shaking his head and walking away.
Mrs. Traiger tilts her head to the side. “Daphne, honey, are you okay? Your face is all red. Are you feverish?” She clucks at me like a mother hen. “Maybe you should go see the nurse if you aren’t feeling well.”
“I’m okay. Maybe a little overheated?” Boy, am I ever. My heart is pounding, I feel flushed, my core is throbbing, and my panties are uncomfortably damp. I almost had an orgasm. Holy crap. Right here in the middle of the library. “Um, did you have something else for me to put away?” I’m kind of in a daze. Though I try to focus on what she’s saying, I find it hard to do.
Hard. Micah was hard. For me. I made Micah Robertson—star tight end of our football team—hard, and he rubbed his cock against me until I almost came—a science experiment worth repeating. But … I don’t know why he came in here in the first place. Had he planned to do that or …?
“Yes. An entire cartful.” She points over her shoulder. “I left it around the corner.” She eyes me again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting kind of funny.”
“Definitely.” Yes. I’m more okay than I’ve ever been. More confused, too, but that’s beside the point.
She nods warily at me and walks away.
My phone vibrates from where it’s tucked in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see Micah’s sent me a text.
Daph’s Dream Dick: Did you realize you handed me a book about male infertility?
My hand flies up to cover my mouth, and I stifle a belly laugh.
Me: I did NOT. Did I?
Daph’s Dream Dick: You sure as hell did.
Daph’s Dream Dick: I went through with checking it out and everything.
Daph’s Dream Dick: You should have seen the look I got from the librarian at the desk.
Me: OMG.
Daph’s Dream Dick: I figure you owe me now.
Me: ?
Me: I’m pretty sure I don’t owe you anything.
Daph’s Dream Dick: We’ll see about that.
Me: Micah …
Daph’s Dream Dick: I’m not done with my experiment.
Daph’s Dream Dick: All joking aside—I’m glad you’re okay.
Chapter 18
Somehow, I’d managed to make it through Monday without any further incident—flashing my panties and unexpectedly getting hot and heavy with Micah in the library had been way more than I’m used to dealing with in a single day. My life is normally so quiet, but ever since I’ve started tutoring Micah, everything has turned a bit upside down. I’m being targeted by Alora and forced to participate in groups I normally wouldn’t, on top of dealing with one very overbearing, sometimes crude, and wholly intimidating football player. And, heaven help me, I’m looking forward to tutoring today way more than I should be.
At lunch, Max, Scarlett, Xander, and I sit at one of the picnic tables in the gardens, huddled together. We probably won’t be able to sit outside much longer for lunches since it’s starting to get way too cold, so we’re taking advantage of it while we can.
Scarlett chews on a bite of her apple thoughtfully before she quirks one eyebrow up at me. “Don’t kick me in the shin for saying this, Daphne, but I could swear your eyes were absolutely riveted to center stage when we passed by the circus on our way out here.”
Center stage is what Scarlett calls the cafeteria table full of cheerleaders and the football team. I know she’s trying to suss out what’s going on with me, but I’m not ready to discuss it yet.
She shakes her head. “And you didn’t seem to give two shits when people started pointing at you and whispering about what panties you might be wearing today. Where’s this un-Daphne-like behavior coming from?”
Wetting my lip, I scramble for what I should say. “I’m over it. Yesterday’s news.” I give a little shrug. Did that sound like I’ve brushed the whole thing aside? I sure as hell hope so. I don’t want to focus on it anymore. I have other things to worry about now, like Micah’s motives behind everything he does and how much he actually means what he says. Once I had a chance to think about it, I had no idea why he’d felt the need to check on me at all, much less touch me the way he had in the stacks. And topping the list of things to worry about is whether Micah plans to continue with his science experiment—and finish the job this time.
Max frowns. “Well, what the fuck happened between the tripping incident and now?”
My face heats. Me and Micah in the stacks had been a book nerd’s dream come true. I’m unable to speak. There’s no way I can tell them about Micah’s library visit yesterday—or how mixed up I am about it.
Xander aims his dark gaze at me, questioning. Oh my God, does he know? Did Micah go back to his buddies and tell them he had his hand up my skirt? I’m not used to eating lunch with Xander, and I’m not completely comfortable discussing things in front of him, especially because of his bro relationship with Micah. I’ll admit, he has kept my spirit girl status a secret, though—so far, anyway.
My shoulders lift partway to my ears and drop. “I guess I realized that in the grand scheme of things, it’s not a big deal. So people saw my panties. Whatever. Maybe they secretly liked it.”
Max grumbles. “Daphne, I hate to ask, but are we talking about someone specific?”
My gaze flicks to Xander’s, and I swear the dude can read exactly what’s flashing through my mind—Micah.
And he winces.
“What? No. No one. Never mind.”
Chapter 19
I’m sitting at a table in the coffee shop waiting on Micah again, sipping at the small hot chocolate I’d gotten myself while working on my AP Physics homework. I’d already helped Micah work on his assignment for Spanish class in the ten minutes Señora Martinez had given at the end of class, so we should really only have to worry about going over whatever they are learning in his physics class.
I turn my focus to my own physics homework, pushing all other thoughts out of my head. After a while, I recognize that I’m getting frustrated because what I thought was the right way to approach the problem isn’t working like I thought it should. I curse under my breath, stopping as my pencil tip snaps under the force of my writing.
“What’s the matter? Grogu doesn’t like you sitting on his face?” The husky whispered question near my ear almost jolts me out of my seat.
I pivot, sucking in my breath as what Micah said clicks in my brain. He’s bent at the waist, and we’re eye to eye. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and my eyes follow. A smirk settles on his face, probably assuming I have no comeback. Or maybe that I’m too shy to say anything now that he’s implied he knows what I could possibly be wearing underneath my skirt.
“Well, Grogu definitely won’t like it if you make me wet myself, so don’t sneak up on me next time.”
He chokes on his laughter but quickly recovers, nodding. “Right. But I like the idea of me making you wet again. Maybe we should go somewhere private so you can sit on my face instead.”
My jaw drops open, and I pull my legs tightly together. “That’s not what I—”
Micah’s finger slides lightly down the back of my neck. “Not what you meant? It’s okay. But you can totally admit I have you all kinds of turned on right now.” His voice is low and raspy, and it’s doing things to all the parts of me he’d left buzzing with excitement in the bookstacks. In response to my thoughts, my core pulses, reminding me of every single delicious moment with him.
I blink twice and then steer the conversation somewhere I’m more comfortable. “Do you have things for us to work on today?”
“Fun Daphne is gone for the moment, huh?”
My lips twitch. “Just trying to be responsible.”
“Fine. We’ll do the work now. Science experiments later.”
I roll my eyes, but my nerves jangle in question. What could he possibly have in mind? We’re in a coffee shop, for Pete’s sake.
An hour later, the coffee shop has emptied out until we’re the only ones left, and our study session has devolved into arguing about why Star Wars makes a mockery of all the laws of physics as we know them—my opinion, not Micah’s. It’s not that I don’t still love the whole franchise … I just happen to be more aware of how physics works than the average moviegoer, I guess.
The whole time we’ve sat together, whether we’ve been studying, debating, joking around, or a mix of the three, the gears in my mind have been turning. I still don’t understand him. At times, he’s been downright hateful to me. And at others, like right now, he’s funny and sweet. It’s utterly confusing and makes me wonder which is the real Micah. And I’m really nervous that I’m considering what it would be like to find out.
Unsure of what I really want, I also wonder if I could be completely misreading him. Alora said Micah told her all about the last time I geeked out like this in front of him. I can’t help but think she’s wrong about how he truly feels. Maybe he tells her what he thinks she wants to hear to get her off his back. I raggedly inhale and focus again on our argument.
“Daphne, I swear, if you don’t stop ruining my favorite movies of all time, I’m going to be forced to take action.”
“Well, it just makes logical sense that the Death Star exploding in space wouldn’t make a sound.” I shrug, l
oving that I’m getting him all riled up.
He growls at me like a bear. “Nope. Stop.”
“What?” I put on my most innocent face. “Sound requires air—or some other medium—to travel. If you have no air, then there’s no sound. So, why would there have been some big explosive noise when it blew up? They totally screwed that up.” I shrug my shoulders at him, knowing he’s about to lose it.
I don’t know why it surprises me when Micah lunges out of his chair, grabs me by the waist, and tosses me over his shoulder. I shriek as I’m practically turned upside down nearly six feet in the air. One of his big hands grips the back of my thigh, the other is clamped firmly on my ass. I shout, “Space is a near perfect vacuum, so there’s no sound. All the pew-pews of your TIE Fighters couldn’t really have happened!”
He grumbles, turning me this way and that. “Seriously, Daphne. Zip it.” He walks over to the counter where Kendra is watching our antics with mild amusement. “Kendra, tell her she’s being ridiculous.” He turns his back to her so I can see her when I strain to look up.
My fists are full of his T-shirt, and I have a great view of his ass from here. I hold on tightly as I laugh, gasping out, “Kendra, tell him that the Star Wars starships would have been mostly silent if they’d obeyed the basic rules of physics!” I can’t stop the giggles while tears stream from my eyes. “Lemme down, you big jackass!” I don’t even think twice before I swat his firm ass.
Kendra rests her arms on the counter, crossing them as she observes us, her lips pursed in mock seriousness. “I don’t know, Micah. She seems to be pretty sure of herself.”
He groans. “No, no, no! Not you, too.” He spins around, and I shriek some more.
“Behave yourselves, would you? I’m going to get some of the muffins for the morning crowd into the oven. Be right back.” Kendra leaves us alone in the front of the shop.
