by NV Roez
My cell phone vibrates in the small pocket I have it in. That's odd. The only person I know here is Celeste. I look at my phone and see Micah's face staring back at me.
The prick put his number and picture on my phone.
I hit ignore. He calls again and I decide that I'll answer just to tell him to fuck off.
"Hi, Angel. Can I see you tonight?" he asks before I can get a word in, and I immediately hang up the phone.
My phone vibrates again, but it's a text from him instead.
Micah: Can I see u tonight?
Me: No
Micah: Please?
Me: No
Micah: I just want to talk.
Me: GO AWAY!
Micah: Not happening. Just be ready to leave in a few.
Me: WTF?? I'm turning off my phone.
Micah: Ur not gonna do that, Angel.
Me: And why the fuck not?
Micah: Because u miss me too. :)
I immediately turn off my phone and slide it back into the little pocket of my skirt. Jokes on him if he thinks I'm going to be playing that little game.
The DJ plays Machine Gun Kelly and I refocus on living in the moment like a normal college student, letting the music take over.
Two strong arms wrap around me from behind. The smell of coconut invades my senses and seeps into my skin even through the smoke and alcohol of the club.
"What the fuck are you wearing, Angel. Every guy here wants to fuck you," Micah growls in my ear.
Ryan grabs Micah's wrist. "You need to remove your hands."
Micah looks down at where Coach Metson has a hold of his wrist, his eyes burning sapphire, and glares back with a smirk.
"Make me."
The way he says it heats my skin. I've never seen Micah posture, and holy hell, it does something to me between my thighs.
Jesus, I have issues.
I take the opportunity to slip out of Micah's arms and stand between the two of them.
I put my hand on Micah's rippled chest, ignoring his pull on my soul. "Micah. You need to go."
He tilts his head down to where I'm touching him and then back at me, eyes glowing dark.
"I am. And you're coming with me." He pushes up closer, despite my efforts to keep him at arm’s length.
Jesus, he's infuriating.
"No. I came here with Celeste and you're an asshole."
He looks over to Ryan.
"That's alright. Metson's got her. Right, Coach?" he says it like a challenge, waiting to see if Ryan will argue.
There's anger radiating off Ryan. He very clearly doesn't like Micah, but when he looks at me, his face falls.
"You don't have to go with him, Evie."
Celeste takes this moment to stand next to me, wiggling her eyebrows, and whispers, "No story, my ass. I'll be fine, Evie. Go with Micah."
I stare at her for a moment, wondering if this is her doing. She nudges me with her shoulder. "You can't say no to a Knight, Evelyn."
I turn back to the guys who are in a silent standoff in the middle of the dance floor, testosterone coming off both of them in waves. Well, if this isn't awkward as fuck…
I grind my teeth. "Fine, Micah. I'll walk you out... That's it."
Still staring down at Coach Metson, Micah's smirk turns into a genuine goofy smile and his eyes light up. "Sure, Angel. Whatever you say."
"You got me out here, Micah. What the hell do you wanna say? Because I meant what I said, I have nothing more to say to you." My voice is clipped and guarded as I finally turn to see him under the streetlights.
I nearly choke at the multitude of emotions washing through my veins when his blue eyes drill deeper into mine.
Jesus, this man is going to be the death of me.
I try to get some distance before he pulls me completely under, but he just keeps moving closer. Fuck this. I start walking towards my truck.
"Goddammit, Micah. Either spit it out or fuck off. Why can't you just go away like the rest of your assholes?"
"What the hell happened to your truck?" he asks, ignoring my question.
"Genna." Just the thought of that nasty, vile bitch has me seething.
His chuckle is deep in his throat as he touches my truck, tracing the lines in the paint like they're open flesh wounds with long delicate fingers.
I cross my arms, impatiently waiting for him to spit out whatever the fuck he wants to say, and the movement catches his attention. His azure eyes dance with fire as a short low moan sounds from the back of his throat, and he shakes his head.
"Fuck, Angel. You make me want to grovel on my knees and worship you with my tongue to atone for my sins."
I scoff and momentarily look away, pretending that I'm unaffected by his words.
"It's cute that you think I don't know you," he says, moving towards me, trapping me against my truck.
"It's funny that you think you do." I avoid his eyes and hold my breath, wishing my body, heart, and head would get in fucking line.
"Breathe, Angel." He places two fingers under my chin, moving my face towards him. "Look me in my eyes and tell me you don't feel the pull in between your thighs; that you don't want my tongue dancing in between your lips." His cocksure grin grows wider the longer I say nothing. "Lie to me, I dare you."
I jerk my face and push away. "Fuck off. What the hell do you want, Micah?"
I attempt to shake off this familiar yet foreign feeling sitting deep in my core. I mean, carnal lust I understand, but this… this is different.
Micah stands to his full height, apparently done playing whatever game this was. "You're taking me to run some errands, and then we're going back to campus and getting you out of that fucking costume. It's bad enough everyone in that club wants to fuck you."
"Uhm, no. You have a car. You don't need me to do shit. Stop wasting my time, Micah. And I can wear whatever the fuck I want." I turn to walk back towards the club when he grabs my elbow.
"I lent my car to Elijah. They won't be back ‘til Tuesday. I really do need a ride."
"You made it here, I'm sure you can make it wherever it is you need to go," I counter, snatching my arm from his grip.
"Well, yeah, I took an Uber. But I can't use Uber for this."
"And I'm the only one you could think of?"
"No. But I wanted to see you. So, two birds and all that," he says, turning up the wattage on his goofy, lopsided grin.
I swear, this man is touched by God himself.
Sigh.
I'm about to do something very, very stupid and no one's going to stop me.
Damn it.
I walk around to the driver's side door and get into my truck without a word. He hops into the passenger's seat like a child getting to sit up front for the first time, and we pull out of the parking lot.
This is a mistake. I know this is a mistake, but instead of being smart, I look at the man in my truck and see the little boy who made a promise to be my best friend.
"Where am I going?"
"I just need to pick up a few things and run a quick errand. So, two stops and then back to Stratham."
I follow the directions he gives me and end up at a two-storey townhouse in a part of town I've never been before. He runs in, brings out a box that he tosses in the back of my truck, and tosses me a black hoodie.
I raise my eyebrow, questioning the hoodie.
"I can't have you sitting there with your tits out all night. It's bad enough I had to walk into that house with a raging fucking hard on."
I roll my eyes but slide on the hoodie, anyway. I need the barrier as much as he does, but fuck if I'm going to say that out loud.
"Okay, so I need you to make a stop at NHU real quick."
"NHU? As in the university? I thought that was like a rival school. Celeste made it sound like it would be some cardinal sin to fraternize with them."
He just shrugs, "Knight business."
I sigh. Whatever.
The faster I can get him out of my truck, the better.
It's bad enough that the smell of him has my belly doing flips.
We get to NHU and park in one of the faculty spots closest to the gym.
"Stay in the truck, no matter what," he instructs me, and I smile as if I'm going to do everything but. "I'm serious, Evelyn. Stay in the fucking truck until I come back"
"Jesus, Micah, relax. I got it. Stay in the truck. I promise."
He and I both cringe at my words.
'Promise'.
That word used to mean something to the both of us.
He shakes whatever memory he was stuck in and I watch in awe as he rolls his head, stretching his neck from side to side while his muscles flex. He's completely in his head and the cab of my truck is getting colder despite the AC not actually being on.
By the time he gets out of my truck, he feels like a completely different person. Dangerous, even though physically he looks exactly the same.
Micah disappears for twenty long, boring minutes with not a single soul in sight. This is not how I should be spending Halloween.
I'm about to leave his ass when he taps on the passenger window and scares the living shit out of me. When he gets inside, his knuckles are bloody and there's a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. I stay stuck, staring at him, waiting for an explanation to my unasked question.
"You wanna drive, Angel, or are you just going to stare at me for the rest of the night?"
His eyes look wild with adrenaline, but he's playing for nonchalance. If I didn't know him, I'd be scared.
But you don't know him anymore.
We head back towards the highway and I can see him glancing back every few minutes like he's waiting to see something.
"What the hell did you do, Micah?" I finally ask, curiosity getting the best of me. But he doesn't say anything. Instead, he takes it upon himself to sync his phone to my truck and starts playing “Play with Fire” by Sam Tinnesz.
A few minutes later, I hear an explosion behind us.
Oh my god...
Chills run down my back as I chance a glance and see the gleam in his jeweled eyes.
"I took care of a problem." His voice is eerily calm, but he doesn't elaborate.
"Oh, that's just fucking great. You've just made me an accomplice, asshole. Have you lost your goddamn mind?!" I shout, clutching the steering wheel, turning my knuckles white. "I seriously hate you."
He puts his hands behind his head, leaning back on his seat, showing off his solid chest and grins. "No, you don't."
My hands grip the steering wheel even tighter instead of punching the smugness off his face.
My blood is boiling by the time we make it back to Stratham, thinking about how I'm now fucked all ways to Sunday if we get caught.
I jump out of my truck, slam my door, stomp off towards my dorm, and mentally chastise myself for being stupid enough to let him anywhere near me.
I fumble with my keycard, trying to get into Emily Hall, and he's just laughing at my tantrum. My resolve to not speak to the asshole breaks, even though I know I should just ignore him.
"You can go away now, asshole," I sneer over my shoulder when I finally get the door open.
"You're cute when you're angry." He brushes his body against my back. "Everyone knows a gentleman leaves a woman at her door, and this is not your door."
"And you're no gentleman." I turn around, crossing my arms over my chest. "Don't you think you've done enough, Micah. I'm not a fucking delinquent."
His frame towers over mine, his features softening. "I'm sorry, Evelyn. Let me just walk you upstairs and I'll leave, scout’s honor. It's Halloween and you never know what pranks us Stratham students are capable of."
Sigh.
"Fine," I grind out and stomp into Emily Hall.
When we get to my door, I turn to tell Micah to fuck off, but the words get stuck in my throat.
The awkward little boy who lost his parents and needed me as much as I needed him is staring back at me. He pushes into me, invading my space, and trapping me against my door so I have to crane my neck to look at him.
"Did I tell you how beautiful you are?" he whispers near my ear.
"Micah, what happened to scout's honor? Just go." My voice is barely audible. His magnetic pull washes over me like the coming tide while his growing erection pushes into my belly. "You don't want to do this."
"I've wanted to do this for six years." He leans down, tracing the outer edge of my ear with his nose, inhaling deeply, and moans deep in his throat.
"Hmm... You smell like heaven," he says, placing both hands against the door on either side of my face. "Why is it so wrong to want to kiss you?"
I close my eyes and hold my breath to stop the invasion of cinnamon and coconut, as the heat from his words caresses the tender parts of my neck.
"Please, Angel, just one kiss?"
My brain scrambles to grab on to reason. This man betrayed me, he just blew up a fucking building, and God knows what else. And yet I say none of these things.
"What about your girlfriend?" My breath comes out airy as all the reasons this should not happen slip.
"She's not my girlfriend. We don't do girlfriends." He pauses, leaning into me, breathing me in.
"Don't you feel it, Evelyn. You're embedded in parts of me that I forgot existed, that I forgot I needed. Just one kiss. Prove to me that there’s nothing between us and I'll go." His deep voice coats me in an ocean of silk chocolate as he presses his lean, surfer body against mine, and I'm enveloped in all that is Micah. He's the undertow, pulling me out to the depths of the ocean, drowning me, freeing me, and I'm lost to him.
He places two fingers under my chin, forcing my face up to his, as his other hand grazes the top of my skirt, sending heated tingles to my inner thighs. He leans forward, gently brushing his lips against mine.
I gasp into his mouth and he takes advantage of my parted lips, licking the edges of my teeth. And the last of my restraint is wiped out.
He pulls me closer, fully claiming my mouth, pushing his tongue between my lips. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His throaty moans make the top of my thighs tighten, and for a moment, we're in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight, holding on to each other like life preservers, tasting one another like it’s the only way to breathe.
He leans farther, placing both hands behind my thighs, squeezing them, encouraging them to wrap around his waist.
"Give me your keys, Angel," he murmurs against my lips, and I—the masochist—do as he asks. He unlocks my door, but doesn't open it.
"I want you to open the door for me, Angel. Let me in because you want me in."
I don't even think. I'm drowning, desperate to keep feeling the beating of my heart, the pleasure of Micah wanting me as much as I want him. I’m lost to him.
I reach behind me and turn the knob to let us both inside.
Micah walks inside my dorm with me wrapped around his waist, his lips devouring mine, and I'm drowning in the depths of need.
"Bedroom?" he asks between tugs on my bottom lip.
"Last door on the right."
He pushes the door open and lays me on the bed, frantically pulling off the hoodie he lent me earlier, throwing it to the floor like it's tainted. His hungry eyes roam the length of my body.
"Jesus, holy fucking hell, Evelyn. You are my every dream, my every desire."
I reach up, pull his own black hoodie off, and pull him to me, missing the caress of his lips against mine. He willingly lets me lead him to lie on top of me.
We are the crashing waves in a storm as he pulls up my skirt with callused hands to feel the soft skin of my thighs, grinding himself against my pelvis, both of us desperate. He sits up just enough to slide his jeans and boxers down in one go. His cock springs free and stands proud, making my heart pump at breaking speeds.
What the hell am I doing?
He leans back over, kissing my neck, grinding his cock against my soaking panties, pushing in as far as the tiny scrap of fabric will let hi
m. He reaches between us to move my panties to the side and slips one finger inside me. I’m unable to stop my moans from escaping.
"You are the only taste I want to savor and destroy all at once," he whispers.
I grab hold of him tighter, digging my nails into his back just so I can get closer, and spread my legs even further as he slides another finger inside.
I have loved this boy for so long.
Love?
Oh fuck.
The word pops into my mind and splashes my libido with ice cold water, making me freeze.
Seriously, what the fuck am I doing?
"Angel?"
I look into his jeweled eyes and am completely overwhelmed with sadness.
I can't do this.
It's not the idea of sex. I enjoy it and want it very much, but this doesn't feel like sex.
My heart beats and feels, and that's just not what sex has ever felt like for me. I push up on my elbows and slide to sit up.
"I can't do this. You've got to go"
"Angel, it's okay. It's just me. Just us."
I shake my head and push him completely off of me. I'm getting dizzy and the edges of my vision are starting to blur.
Fucking panic attacks.
I get up to grab a t-shirt from my floor, cover myself, and keep moving.
Just keep moving.
Confusion plagues his face, and his eyebrows scrunch together.
"Please, Micah. Get your clothes and go." I watch as his hurt turns to anger and the organ in my chest stutters and breaks.
"Oh, so you can fuck Taylor, but I'm not good enough?"
"How did you know about that?"
He rolls his eyes. "We all know what happens at this school. Don't be so naive. He's a Knight, Evelyn. He doesn't have the luxury of keeping secrets from us."
