Page 77 of Possessed By Shadows

“I thought we’d be more stable than the B&B.”

Micah snorted as he shoved me into a chair at the kitchen table and made his way to the bathroom. He returned a minute later with a garbage bag and more wipes. He set the bag at my feet. “Strip. Leave everything in the bag.”

“Kinky,” I teased.

“Not when you smell like swamp water and shit,” he said wrinkling his nose. Why did that expression look so damn sexy on him? “Get naked, then we shower.”

“Together?” I perked up a bit even though I was insanely tired.

He gave me the side-eye. “Do you think you could shower without falling over?”

“Probably not,” I admitted.

He gave me thewell thengesture with his hands, then bent down to untie my shoes. I’d have made some remark about him being on his knees if I didn’t feel like I was swimming in goop. “Maybe I got ecto-slimed,” I mumbled.

“Pretty sure it’s just debris from a long-abandoned location with a lot of standing water,” Micah said. He yanked my shoes off, setting them in the bag.

“Please don’t throw away my shoes. I like those shoes.”

“They need to be cleaned. Up. Get naked. Don’t track that crap across the house.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, pushing myself up. My hip groaned in protest, but I stripped, dropping everything on the bag and hobbling my way to the bathroom. He already had a fresh set of towels set out for me. I turned on the water, leaning hard against the wall near the shower until it began to steam. Micah appeared a few seconds after I stepped under the spray, naked himself and looking divine.

“You’re so hot,” I told him as the water streamed over my head and washed a large mess of mud and crap out of my hair. It looked sort of like leaves? He got in the shower, moving in close and adjusting the spray overhead. He tilted his head upward, and I leaned in for a kiss.

That was heaven, even if it was only a little touch of his lips on mine, a brush of softness, a slight opening of his mouth to let me taste him for a few seconds. I sighed into him, relaxing a little more.

“Don’t give up on me,” I told him. The fear of losing him a well of pain in my gut. I would never have thought a year ago that he would become my whole life, but I couldn’t imagine my days without him. How strange that we went from surviving day to day, to thriving when someone took hold of our heart.

Micah gave me a wry smile, tugging me close and washing me with gentle hands. He massaged my hip, pressing fingers into the muscle until it hurt, then finally releasing the tension it had been holding.

“I’m going to fall asleep,” I grumbled, not happy with that idea. It was barely three in the afternoon.

“Is a nap a bad thing? I could use a nap. We usually only get them on Sundays.”

“I feel like I need to look for Lukas.”

“Where?” Micah asked simply. “Did the ghost give you some sort of beacon to follow?”

“No. Maybe I should talk to more ghosts?”

“Might be a good idea to recharge first. You know. Like with a nap and maybe some sex? Then some food?”

I rocked with him in the shower, enjoying having him close. “You, sir, might be a genius.”

“Might?”

“For sure. Genius. A thousand percent.”

He kissed the tip of my nose and reached back to turn off the water. “You are barely awake. Rest first. Then we will strategize.”

“About using ghosts to find my brother?”

“About everything,” Micah promised. He grabbed the towel and began drying me first, even going so far as to comb and style my hair back into a tight braid before focusing on himself.

I swayed on the rug, watching him, only upright because he was there, and so pretty I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Finally, he dragged me out of the bathroom and to the futon which he had converted into the bed, and covered in a sheet. Precious was nowhere to be found. But Jet was on one of the pillows. The mess of clothes or any remains of debris had vanished.

Micah shoved me down on the bed and checked the lock on the door, then climbed in with me. Dragging the blanket over us. No clothes, nothing to separate us, he nestled himself against me, and felt like a furnace of warmth and life.

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you too,” he replied. “Sleep.”

“Just a short nap,” I said.

“Then sex. You promised.”

I had? Not that I was ever opposed. Micah and sex were like sugar and cinnamon rolls, addicting. He also found sex very grounding, which worked for me only because it was him. “Okay,” I promised, closing my eyes.