Page 20

Raeann

T he Uber drops me off outside Micah’s house, which—let’s be real—should be dubbed an estate.

Tension creeps up my spine while I walk toward the gate.

People arrive at houses like this in fancy cars, yet here I am arriving in a Prius someone else owns…

and without Athena. I was going to bring her, but Tab wouldn’t have it.

She talked about getting outside my comfort zone, but I could tell by the gleam in her eye that she was less interested in that and more interested in what she thinks is going to happen tonight.

Nerves skitter through me like lightning strikes when the gate opens without me having to do anything.

It’s as if he’s always watching, waiting.

The tension building since I saw him the last time climaxes.

The sex toys, the flirty pictures. Even from states away when he was supposed to be prepping for his game against the Studs, he sent us another employee—Katya—and hell if I didn’t take that as another form of flirting.

He’s systematically removing the barriers preventing us from being together, and all of those thoughts swirl inside me while I round the back of the garage, my gaze out toward the water.

The sun is low in the sky, but the rays still ricochet off the water, making it a twinkling portrait in front of me.

Tennessee is beautiful, but I’m always stuck seeing the inside of Nashville now. Concrete and traffic lights. Which can also be pretty, in a way, but my heart longs for scenery like this. Grass and water, the smell of rain. Nature, basically.

I input the door code Micah gave me, and the door swings open freely to his voice, “If you’re Raeann, you better get your sweet ass into the kitchen. If you’re some crazy fan, go away. I have plans.”

I walk fast, rounding the kitchen to find Micah standing at the counter with an apron tied around his waist. I stare for a moment, a smile tugging at my lips. It’s official, he can make anything sexy .

“What if I’m Raeann and a crazy fan?”

“Even better.” Those determined brown eyes lock onto mine. He strips his apron off, setting it on a stool, never once losing the hold he has on my gaze. “I missed you, Raeann Gorman.”

My heart starts to beat triple time. He opens his arms, and I immediately go into them, walking into his chest like he has a tether around his heart that’s connected to mine and the line keeps reeling in, closer and closer.

“God, I missed this,” he whispers, his hands roaming up my back, into my hair, and down over the curve of my ass.

“We talked on the phone,” I remind him.

“Mmm, a tease for the real thing. I want you to go everywhere with me.”

“I doubt other players’…girls follow their guys around.”

“You’re not them, and I’m certainly not other players either.”

That’s for sure. Micah’s incognito social media account praised me day after day. New and old posts, they just kept coming. “I got all your comments.”

“A poor substitute for actual conversation, but I like knowing what you’re up to.”

“Did anyone tell you that might come off a tad stalker-ish?”

“I may have thought about it a time or two, but you can’t stalk someone who’s willing.”

He kisses my neck, a light brush of his lips, and my lids flutter closed.

“Mmm, I thought so.”

“Unfair,” I breathe. “You’re using your good looks and talented tongue to your advantage.”

He pulls away and stares at me. “What’s unfair is how long you were in this world before I knew about you.” He slides his hands down to the curve of my hips, bringing me even closer. I inhale sharply before he says, “I made dinner.”

Not exactly where I thought he was going with this, but when I close my eyes, the surrounding aromas light my senses. “Is that the yummy scent I smell?”

“Barbecued steak, steamed broccoli, a little bit of rice.”

I peer over at the island to find two full plates.

He pats my ass, steps out of my grip, and then grabs the plates, taking them to the outside table.

There’s already a small blanket out there draped over a chair, and he sits in the one next to it.

Two glasses of wine wait next to cutlery and a bouquet of flowers—all things I totally missed when I walked in.

My heart nearly explodes.

We eat, and Micah tells me stories of his teammates’ antics while they were away and game time ruminations.

He likes Reid Parker a lot, along with a few other players he mentions regularly.

Names I’m familiar with on a spectator level.

The way he talks about them, though, it’s apparent they’re more like family to him. Brothers.

“Your eyes light up when you talk about them.”

“Funny, they said the same thing about you.”

I feel myself blush, cheeks heating. “It must be nice to have so many people in your corner. Like a big family. I always wanted more siblings, but when Mom left, it was apparent that wasn’t going to happen.”

“Your dad never thought about remarrying?”

I shake my head. “Never. Despite what she did, I don’t think he ever stopped loving her, which is crazy. She abandoned him…and me,” I tack on softly. It was so long ago, I never really mourned the person, I mourned the idea of a mom. Dad, though, he mourned her.

Micah covers my hand with his, squeezing it. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

I tilt my head, words on the tip of my tongue. I get the feeling he already knew Mom left. Joey, I’d bet. The man who can do anything. But it could’ve been Pawpaw too.

“I got something for you.”

My brows rise. “You did?”

He pulls away, fingers grabbing the hem of his Wildcats shirt before he tugs it off. My eyes immediately home in on the fresh tattoo on his chest. His sleeve has now grown over to his left pec. A field of wildflowers backdropped by water and the sliver of a moon.

I reach out to brush my hands across the intricate details. “You got this for me?”

The permanent nature of a tattoo, the way he’s positioned it over his heart, and the seamless continuity down his sleeve sends perfect chills down my spine.

“I noticed the way you admired my forest sleeve, so I thought I’d show you just how serious I am.”

“You’re…a lot,” I swallow. But the feelings pumping through me are a lot, too. Overwhelming, like the battering of waves against my body. They’re useless to deny, powered by the moon Micah has emblazoned on his chest.

He chuckles softly. Pushing his chair back from the table, he reaches his arms out. I move into his lap while he threads his fingers through my hair. Up close, the tattoo is even more beautiful, so many colors and shading, like it’s captured the three-dimensional feelings between us.

“There’s something else…”

I back away to find him grinning. He takes out a gift bag and hands it to me. The laughter in his gaze makes me even more curious. I pull out the tissue paper and grab the box inside. The clear window in the packaging leaves nothing to the imagination.

A dildo. A super lifelike dildo.

“I have a confession,” I tell him, holding the box in my lap. “I didn’t actually use the dildo.”

Surprise lights his eyes. “You want the real thing.” He says it more like a statement than a question, but I confirm it anyway. He points to the box. Typed out in the bottom right corner is Micah Freeman.

Confusion slithers through me.

“While I was away, I molded my dick for you. They put this cast around it, then they filled it to make it a true, synthetic replica of the actual thing.”

I rip open the box, slide the tray out, and run my finger down its length. It’s thicker than the one I purchased. “This is your cock?”

“Do you like it?”

“You’re killing me,” I groan, heart slamming against my ribs.

“This is for when I’m gone. The other ones get thrown away.”

I nod eagerly. Then I bring his dildo to my mouth and guide my tongue across its length before peering at him. “I licked it. It’s mine.”

His eyes could cut stone. His chest moves up and down violently, and his stare stays on my mouth while he lifts me. Without standing, he sets me on the table, nudging the skirt of my dress out of the way with his head before he presses his mouth against my panties.

I’m so surprised a squeak comes out of my mouth. “Micah.”

“Move them to the side.”

I reach between us and slide my panties out of the way. Instantly, his tongue runs up my center before he pulls away. I tug my skirt away from his face. “I licked it. It’s mine,” he growls, his voice determined, much more serious than mine was.

He stands, and I cross my ankles against his ass. The light fabric of my dress does nothing to hide Micah’s real cock from nudging my center.

I can’t make words. The feel of his tongue, the fact that I’ve been fantasizing about that very thing, renders me speechless. Keeping his gaze locked on mine, he walks toward the house. He takes the hallway I followed him through that night.

“We should get the dishes.”

“Screw the dishes.”

“The food will call animals.”

“We’ll deal with it later. Right now, there’s nothing I want more than for you to stake your claim on my dick.”

“You make it sound so…dirty.”

“The things I want to do to you are dirty, Raeann.”

I cling to him as he crawls across the bed, and then he lowers himself on top, using the friction from his erection to rub me in the most delicious way.

When I look up at him, he’s not just the Micah Freeman I watched play football or mentioned was super hot when I was high. This is my Micah. Intense. Obsessive. Stubborn.

“You know what I want,” he growls into my ear.

His words from the other night come back to me. He wanted me to own it. Take my need for him and run with it.

So, that’s what I do.

I focus on us instead of the lies in my brain. Instead of fear steering me, the feelings coursing through me act like a rudder on a boat. Right now, I’m mapped straight to him. Always him.

Micah says love should hurt, and if he’s right, I am consumed with it.