Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I smile as I take their drink orders. “Be right back.”
I serve Micah a cider and Ms. Hart a white wine, which she says will pair well with her fish dinner. Speaking of which, I grab their plates from the kitchen and set them in front of them. “The perch you caught for me,” I point out.
Micah’s eyes widen. “Are you serious?”
“I’m actually not sure, but I’m pretending it is.”
“Oh goodie, I’ll pretend too,” Ms. Hart says as she inhales a forkful of beer-battered fish.
“Need my help?” Micah asks when the door opens and more people step inside.
I wave him off. “Just enjoy your dinner.”
I check in on them when I can, as well as on Uncle Chuck, Aaron, and Jack, who grabbed a table in the corner with the ladies.
When I see that Micah’s and Ms. Hart’s plates are clean, I reach for them. “On me. For entertaining the town this afternoon.”
Ms. Hart grips her chest. “You are the sweetest.”
“Thank you,” Micah mouths.
I’m not sure how much more time passes before I see Ms. Hart stand and grab her bag. “Stop by before you leave town?”
“I will,” Micah replies as an air of solemnity descends between them, maybe because all their hard work has come to an impressive end. Micah used to say the week after a production felt like a letdown, and I get that sentiment. Sort of like it does after the rib fest and fish fry. Like you can finally catch your breath but lament all the energy and excitement leading up to the event.
“We might lock you in the costume closet and only let you out to help us for our fall production,” Ms. Hart teases Micah.
I wink. “If you need any help with that, let me know.”
Ms. Hart laughs as they hug, and then she waves as she heads out the door.
Micah seems lost after she leaves, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
“How about that help you offered?”
He nods, gratitude and relief in his expression.
It reminds me of how lost he seemed the month after returning from our wedding in Vegas. Happy but adrift, and I did everything I could to keep him occupied.
It’ll never feel as peaceful, contented, and clandestine as it did our first night back in town before we told our families we were connected for life. Till death do us part.
It’s late when we arrive home, so we tiptoe down to the basement, to our bedroom, careful not to wake my parents.
Once undressed, we fall into bed, exhausted but giddy with excitement.
“I can’t believe you’re my husband,” I exclaim as if we haven’t tested out the word the entire trip home. “And I like that you kept your name. For when you make it big.”
“Shhhh, they’ll hear us,” Micah says before winding his arms around my neck and planting a kiss on my lips. “Husband.”
“Fuck, I love hearing you say it.” I blame Micah for being too adorable, too irresistible, as I lick down his throat and give in to the urge to suck a mark into his skin right above his breastbone.
Micah grunts, his fingers gripping my neck. “What the hell?”
“I’m marking you,” I tease. “You’re mine now.”
“Always have been. Always will be,” he murmurs, and my shaft stiffens just like that. Just by uttering those words, he makes my chest swell and my cock hard as nails.
When I draw a nipple between my teeth, Micah hisses.
I snicker as my hand covers his mouth. “Now who’s loud?”
“I can’t help it when you do that.”
He squirms against me as I focus on the other nub, his eyes blazing even in the dim room. “Let’s make it official.”
“Didn’t we already do that in the hotel room? Not that I’m complaining.”
The memory of us making love all night, sometimes slow and sweet, other times fast and hard, arouses my senses even more. I lick down his stomach, grasp his thighs, and nip at each hip bone before soothing the sting with my tongue.
Micah’s fingers tug at my hair. “You always make me hard. Especially when you’re inside me.”
“Nothing I love more.” I inhale his scent as my nose grazes across his groin, his coarse hair tickling my lip. The head of his shaft bumps my chin, precome tacky against my jaw. I angle my head to lap at his cock, savoring the salty taste as a fresh burst awakens my taste buds.
When I increase suction and take more of him between my lips, Micah arches and rocks his hips, spurring me on. My tongue licks and twists in time with my mouth, and I sense that I’m already bringing him to the edge.
“Fuck me, J.”
I pull off and reach for the lube, but his fingers still grip my scalp as if they have a mind of their own and aren’t quite finished reveling in my giving him head. I chuckle to myself, enjoying how responsive he is to my every touch.