“Micah? Is this your date?”
Heat flooded Micah’s face as Rachel-Lyn’s voice reminded him that she was there, too, and he stood aside, making room for Zach to come in or for her to go out. Hopefully, both.
“Um, Zach, this is my sister, Rachel-Lyn. She was just leaving.”
“Nice to meet you, Rachel-Lyn,” Zach said, giving her a warm smile and holding out his hand. He looked totally unfazed by her presence.
He also looked freaking amazing.
Micah grinned, hiding it behind the bouquet in his arms. He knew for sure that he’d think Zach was hot based on his shivery, deep voice alone… or on the way Zach’s hands had felt strong and gentle at the same time when he’d checked Micah over for injury… or just from the warmth of his skin or the feel of his face or the weight of his touch when he’d rested a hand on Micah’s back, back at the marina.
But being able to see him, too? Totally worth getting sight back for.
Totally.
“Nice to meet you, too, Zach,” Rachel-Lyn said, sounding way less like she meant it than Zach had. She looked him up and down, her eyebrows going up. “Are you—”
“Rachel-Lyn,” Micah said, cutting off whatever third degree she’d been about to unleash. “Aren’t the caterers waiting for you?”
“Musje…”
“Rachel-Lyn.”
She sighed, her brow going all crinkly as she looked at the flowers, then at Zach, then back at the flowers again. But then—thankfully—she nodded, turning to go.
“Have a nice time tonight,” she said, sounding like she might actually choke with the effort of not interfering. “And I’ll see you at Mam’s this weekend, yes?”
Micah nodded, shooing her toward the door, and then finally, she left, and it was just the two of them. He looked at Zach, trying to think of what to say, and Zach grinned at him, nodding toward the flowers.
“Do you have a vase?”
“Yes,” Micah said, laughing at himself because he kind of didn’t want to let go of them. Well, also because he was just… happy. “Um, I’ve got lots of them? I love flowers. Kind of a lot. So, you know, I’ve got lots of vases.” Shoot. His cheeks started to get hot. He’d said that twice, hadn’t he? Micah cleared his throat, powering through, “And, uh, they’re all in the kitchen, if you want to come?”
Zach smiled, and the way his eyes filled with light and the dimple thing happened again made Micah forget all about going to the kitchen for a moment. He wanted to touch Zach again. To run his hands over all the parts that made up that smile—lips and cheeks and the crinkly bits at the corners of Zach’s eyes—and memorize them forever. Would that be weird to ask about? Zach hadn’t seemed to mind before, but somehow, here in the privacy of Micah’s apartment, the idea felt different.
More intimate.
Exciting.
Butterflies burst to life in his stomach as he wondered if he had the guts to ask him anyway.
“You’ve got a dog,” Zach said, crouching down and holding a hand out for Pippin to sniff. “I’ve always thought about getting a dog.”
Micah grinned. As amazing as Zach was, if he hadn’t liked Pippin? Well, Micah couldn’t imagine it. Of course Zach had to like Pippin. Nothing else made sense.
“She likes you,” Micah said, noting the full-body wag Pipp was doing. “Her name’s Pippin.”
“I think I like her, too,” Zach said, straightening up and smiling down at Micah again. “And you, Micah. I like you, too. I’m really glad you said yes.”
Micah turned to crate Pippin with his heart racing, not sure if it was too much to let Zach see the crazy-wide smile that statement had put back on his face. By the time he had Pipp secure and turned back to face Zach, it was still there, though. He bit his lip hard, trying to contain it. That hurt though, so he stopped, and the minute he did, his mouth opened all on its own, as if it had just been waiting for the chance to embarrass him.
“Oh my God,” he blurted out. “I’m so nervous. I’ve never done this before.”
Which… was… mortifying.
Zach’s eyebrows went up.
“This?” he asked, gesturing between the two of them.
Micah nodded, knowing for sure that he had to have turned bright red. Redder than red. The reddest.
Zach ran the back of one hand down Micah’s cheek, tugging the flowers out of Micah’s arms with his other hand and stepping close enough that Micah had to tip his head back to keep looking at him. Zach grinned, not seeming even remotely put out by Micah’s confession. In fact, if Micah was reading his expression right, Zach maybe even looked a little delighted by it.
“Is this the first time you’ve been on a real date, Micah?”
“It’s the first time I’ve done anything,” Micah said, nibbling his lip. “I mean, um, not done anything, of course, since we haven’t… um, that is, we’re not… I mean, not that we’re doing anything… yet? But…”
He swallowed, not even remotely capable of finishing that sentence without embarrassment. Because Zach standing so close? Micah had never been so turned on in his life. It was almost enough to make him forget how nervous he was or worry about what Zach thought of his perpetual awkwardness.
Almost.
Zach’s eyes were burning into him, and even if Micah wasn’t all that good at reading expressions yet, that look was making him go from turned on to… well, to painfully turned on.
“Do you want to do something, Micah?” Zach asked, his voice suddenly lower and deeper and so ridiculously sexy that it was all Micah could do to stop himself from swaying right into his arms, or climbing up Zach’s body and just wrapping himself around him completely.
Which would be too much, right?
Zach ran a thumb over Micah’s lower lip, tugging it out from between his teeth, and Micah caught his breath, his heart racing so hard he thought he might literally die. Which, God, he really, really didn’t want to do if it was going to mess up whatever was about to happen with Zach.
Because something was happening, right?
It kind of needed to, otherwise Micah was pretty sure he was going to die of other reasons.
“Micah?”
Oh, right, Zach had asked him something.
“Yes.”
Zach’s lip quirked up on one side, his left dimple popping out and making Micah want to touch it.
“Does that mean I can kiss you?” Zach asked, his thumb still brushing across Micah’s lip.
It sent little jolts all the way through him, and the heady scent of the flowers Zach was holding, pressed up against Micah’s side, were making him kind of dizzy, but in a really, really good way.
Or maybe the dizziness was just Zach.
Zach wanted to kiss him.
Micah nodded. And then he grinned—remembering Sam telling him to make his own luck—and quit waiting for it to happen. He wrapped his arms around Zach’s neck, going up on his tiptoes and pressing his lips against Zach’s in what was probably the world’s worst kiss, ever. Except that—despite the fact that Micah really didn’t know what the heck he was doing—it also wasn’t.
It was the best one.
It was perfect.
And the minute it started, Micah’s nerves melted away and his excitement took over, and—even though he’d never kissed anyone before in his entire life—he suddenly did know what to do, after all. Because kissing Zach? It felt like finally finding out what his lips had been made for.
It felt like coming home.
7
Zach
Zach smiled against Micah’s lips. He had a split second to recognize that Micah really hadn’t done this before, but then that thought was immediately crowded out by another. It rose up hot and fierce and unstoppable, and even though Zach had never been the possessive type, every cell of his body was filled with the certainty that it was true.
Mine.
He cradled the back of Micah’s head in one hand, tugging on it to get better access to that mouth that he hadn’t been ab
le to stop thinking of all week, then groaned when Micah gasped and lurched against him, pressing every inch of his sweet little body against Zach like he was trying to merge them into one. Zach wrapped his arm around Micah’s waist, crushing the flowers against his back, and lost himself in the taste and heat and eager enthusiasm that was even better than he’d imagined. He hadn’t meant to make a move this early, but Micah’s confession about his inexperience had flipped some kind of switch in Zach that he hadn’t even known he had.
Mine mine mine.
The thought made Zach’s arms tighten. He had no illusions that Micah was his to own, but to treasure? To cherish, protect, and care for? As perfect as this felt, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Micah was his, untouched and eager, like a gift that had been waiting just for him.
He sucked on the pouty lower lip that had clearly been made just for that purpose, hauling Micah’s tiny body up against him and swallowing down his hot, panting breaths like wine. And when Micah sighed, a sexy, needy little sound that sounded exactly like an invitation? Zach tugged on his hair to tip his head back even further, taking him up on it without hesitation.
He trailed his lips across the smooth line of Micah’s freshly shaven jaw, turned on beyond belief by the delicious shivers he could feel vibrating through Micah’s entire body as Zach kissed his way down Micah’s neck. There was a spot just below his ear that made Micah whimper, and Zach sucked gently on the delicate skin there, loving that it made those delicious tremors even stronger.
Micah tasted like heaven and practically burned Zach’s lips with the heat of his skin, and he could have happily worshipped the sensitive spot that made Micah shake so much, forever. Micah’s whole body was flushed and warm and addictive as hell, and when he wrapped himself around Zach—totally uninhibited and eager and making it unmistakable that he was already hard—Zach’s cock throbbed between them, too, urging him to take even more.
“Zach,” Micah moaned, slim arms like a vise around him. “Oh my God.”
Zach gathered him even closer, but then Pippin’s sharp bark jolted him out of the haze of his lust. He sucked in a shuddering breath, burying his face in the crook of Micah’s neck for an indulgent moment before forcing himself to drop his arms.
He’d sort of ruined the bouquet.
“Dinner,” Zach said, his voice coming out raspy and rough as he tried to find his self-control.
Micah blinked up at him, looking dazed and pink and fucking gorgeous… and like he had no idea what Zach was talking about.
Zach grinned, reaching down to adjust himself. He hadn’t exactly managed a complete sentence, had he? He cleared his throat, holding up the crumpled flowers and trying again.
“We’ve got dinner reservations, Micah. We should get these in water and go.”
“Um, what?” Micah brought a hand up to his puffy mouth, then added a hopeful, “Can’t we just keep doing this?”
“I told you I’d take you out,” Zach said, sorely tempted to just say yes. He wanted to treat Micah right, though. “You deserve… what is it?”
Micah had cocked his head to the side and was looking up at Zach quizzically. At Zach’s question, though, he flushed red again and shook his head, then seemed to change his mind, opening his mouth as if he might answer. He didn’t, though. Just reached up to run a finger over Zach’s lips—a tentative touch that shot straight to Zach’s cock—before yanking his hand away and tucking it behind his back.
“Sorry,” he said. “We can go, then? I just need to take care of the flowers…”
He started to turn away, but Zach caught his arm, stopping him. “What is it, Micah?”
“I… I can’t really read you?” Micah said, his admission reigniting the blush that had started to fade from his cheeks. “I mean, sorry. I’m just not good at reading facial expressions yet, so I was just… I wasn’t sure if you didn’t like kissing me? Was that too much? Is that why you want to go?”
Zach laughed, but then snapped his mouth closed when he realized Micah’s question had been serious.
“No. It wasn’t too much, and it’s not why I want to go. In fact, I kind of don’t want to go at all, because I did like kissing you. Probably a little too much for the first five minutes of our first date.” Zach was sorely tempted to press Micah’s hand against his straining erection in proof, but wasn’t he doing his best to be a gentleman? He cleared his throat, resisting the temptation. “I want to get to know you, Micah, not just fu—uh, kiss you. And I want you to get to know me, too. I want you to be able to read me.”
Micah was still looking at him like he was trying to figure out if Zach was telling the truth or not, but then he seemed to decide that Zach was, and he gave him another one of those brilliant, full-body smiles that always hit Zach like an adrenaline rush.
“Okay,” Micah said, taking the crushed bouquet out of Zach’s hand and picking at the flowers instead of making eye contact. “And, um, it’s not just you? I, uh… I used to be blind, but last year I had a cornea transplant, and my eyes, they don’t quite work all the way yet? I mean, they do. They work fine now. But I can’t always tell what I’m looking at? I just… I wanted you to know, so you don’t think it’s too weird that I can’t always see right.”
Zach blinked. What?
Micah looked up, turning red again. “I mean, I’m practicing. It’s just that I couldn’t see for so many years that my brain doesn’t always know what to make of things. At least, that’s what the surgeon said. And faces… faces are really hard, sometimes.”
Zach looked into Micah’s pale eyes. Really? They looked perfect.
Beautiful.
“Is that why you touched me?” he asked. “The other day, you said it helped you see me better.”
Micah nodded. “Touching things always makes sense, you know? And it’s kind of like translation, maybe? Like, when I match up what my hands see with what my eyes do, then it sort of clicks into place in my brain or something, and I can see it. Like when you go from blurry to focused with a camera. I know that probably sounds weird…” He shrugged, looking back down at the flowers. “Colors don’t need any translation, though. They’re kind of amazing, aren’t they?”
Zach grinned, looking around the tidy living room. It was all about color, and Micah had mixed it together in unexpected ways that looked cheerful and energetic. Welcoming, even though Zach wouldn’t have thought that such bright tones could manage that.
There were framed prints on the wall that weren’t recognizable, but seemed like they almost should be—as if everyday objects had been captured at odd angles, or in extreme close-up. And the prints were mixed with other things. There was a bright pink—what was it? Cloth? A painting? Something else?—taking up the space between two windows, and the couch was a sunny yellow, covered in sinfully soft-looking throw pillows in a dozen different shades of blue. The way they were stacked all over each other reminded Zach of the ocean. Not waves, but ripples.
Beautiful.
He seemed to use that word a lot around Micah.
“You’re amazing,” Zach said, meaning it. He lifted Micah’s hand and pressed it against the side of his face, smiling down at him. “And anytime you can’t read me, please feel free to touch. I like it.”
That earned him another of those smiles that took his breath away, and when Micah took him up on it—his hand moving across Zach’s face with a sure, confident touch that made Zach’s skin feel electrified—he couldn’t resist turning his head to kiss Micah’s palm.
“Oh,” Micah said, more of a breath than a word. “How much of you can I touch?”
Micah immediately slapped a hand over his own mouth, the predictable blush racing across his cheeks, and Zach grinned, capturing the hand and bringing it back to his face.
“As much as you want to, Micah. I’m all yours.” Just saying the words made Zach’s cock throb, and he nodded toward the flowers, needing a distraction. “Can we get those in water? That way your hands will be free.”
Micah
nodded, turning to lead the way to the kitchen, and when he pulled out a bright orange vase and filled it with water, Zach grinned, noting the similarity to Micah’s outfit.
Micah fluffed the arrangement, then headed back to the living room, centering it on the little end table next to the yellow couch.
“They’re so pretty,” Micah said, grinning up at him.
“So are you,” Zach said without thinking.
Some men wouldn’t like being called pretty, but it had just slipped out.
Micah didn’t seem offended, though. He just cocked his head to the side, looking up at Zach curiously. “I am?”
Zach laughed. “Yeah,” he said; understatement of the century. “Very much so.”
Micah grinned. “Good.”
Zach laughed again.
“I mean, I’m glad you think so? Because you’re…” Instead of finishing that sentence, though, he took Zach up on his offer to touch, reaching up and cupping Zach’s face in his hands. He ran his thumbs over the shape of Zach’s smile, and when Zach kissed his fingers again, Micah laughed, looking so fucking gorgeous that it was all Zach could do to remember that they were supposed to leave.
“This is really okay?” Micah asked, his eyes sparkling. “Because I don’t know if ‘pretty’ is the right word for you, but I really like how you look, too.”
“Anything you want is okay, Micah,” Zach said. “Everything.”
Micah grinned, his hands moving over Zach’s jaw, stroking down his neck, fluttering over the exposed skin just above the collar of his shirt.
Torture.
Heaven.
“This, too?” he asked, skimming his hands down Zach’s chest. “You’re so big.”
Zach laughed.
Micah blushed. “I mean, I didn’t realize I was short? Not until I could see again, I mean.”
“You’re perfect, Micah.”
Looking For Love (Semper Fi, The Forever Faithful Series Book 2) Page 9
