Page 54 of Stalked By Shadows

“Nothing.”

A lie. Okay. It was fine if he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

“Is this a one-off? I’m okay with comforting you,” I told him, focusing on the broad picture instead of unspoken suspicions. “But if we’re going to have sex, I’d like you to at least be emotionally present.”

“Most guys don’t want that.”

“I’m not most guys.” I pulled the blanket up around myself and lay back down on the mat. Micah sat a few feet away, either unconcerned with his nudity or unashamed of it. He was still hard, though I was quickly losing my erection. Maybe this too, was a sign that I was broken. Most guys would have jumped at the chance to fuck Micah. Emotional connection or not. I didn’t want to look into his pretty blue eyes and think he was imagining I was someone else. Or that he was somewhere else. Or worse, reliving a past nightmare.

Some people fantasied about being in the middle of a porn video. I was beginning to think that wasn’t the fantasy most people thought it was. After watching for over a decade I knew how much of an act it was, how unrealistic the positions and expressions were. It was one of the reasons I’d stopped watching pro stuff and gone to amateur videos, which was where I’d found Micah’s stuff. I was looking for some realism. This wasn’t it.

I opened the blanket a smidge for him. “We can still cuddle,” I offered.

“But no sex?” Micah asked, frowning.

“I think not yet. Didn’t you say something about flames burning out and all that?” My body revved up again at the reminder that I had actually been inside him for a few minutes and been stupid enough to pull away. It wouldn’t be a stretch to fan that flame back into an inferno.

“There’s nothing wrong with sex,” Micah grumbled.

“No,” I agreed. “But is it really me you want here? Or am I just a warm body distraction?”

He stared at me for a while, expression blank, body slowly calming. I wished he would share his thoughts with me.

“Micah?” I asked again. I offered him the blanket. He reached across, turned off the light and crawled into the cocoon I’d made of the quilt. He sucked in a deep breath, holding himself at a distance for a minute before sinking into my arms. He did reach down and tug off the condom, depositing it in a small trash bin near the sewing machine. Then he buried his face in my shoulder and began to cry. Not gentle sniffles or silent tears, but ugly tears and harsh breathing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I whispered into his hair.

“No,” he said.

“Okay.” I rubbed his back, told him it would be okay, though could only imagine all the avenues his brain might take him down. I dragged over a box of tissues and kept handing them to him as I kissed his head and whispered, “It’s going to be okay,” over and over. Was it a lie? Maybe. Whatever had been stalking him, had been doing it for years. If it hadn’t stopped by now, would it ever?

I curled around him, using my body as a shield and my words as comfort. It was all I could give him in that moment.

Chapter 17

Iwoke before Micah, not really remembering when I’d fallen asleep. Our little adventure in the loft had been real and not a dream as we were both wrapped in the blanket and my cock a little crusty from dried lube. He slept pretty soundly when I opened my eyes to Jet staring intently at us both.

“Creepy,” I whispered to the cat, annoyed by his intense gaze. He sat there, tail twitching like a little whip. Right, Jet got wet food in the morning. I glanced at my phone and realized it was after six. Despite the few hours of sleep, I felt pretty rested.

I carefully extracted myself from Micah and the blanket, leaving him wrapped up and curled around my pillow, and found my way to the bathroom. I washed up, put the boxers back on and found food for Jet before filling the coffee pot.

The water slowly seeped through the grounds while I stared longingly at the brew and thought about the early morning encounter. Not the door thing, that was its own issue that I planned to research on my phone as soon as I had a cup of coffee in my hands, but Micah. I still wasn’t sure how to read his behavior. Had I been wrong to turn him away? Was I being a prude for wanting him to be in the moment with me? Or misreading his body language that there was something he was hiding from me? I’d been a toy soldier so long that I wanted more than to be jerked around, or even off. I wanted to get to know Micah, help him if I could.

At least he’d fallen asleep finally.

I sent a text to Lukas:I think I’m not cut out for relationships.

The fast responding text surprised me a little, as I thought he might be sleeping.You’ve barely started one. Too soon to tell.

We almost had sex.I confessed. Hell, to some religions we had sex, even if neither of us had come.

Almost? Did you take a taco break in the middle and forget to continue?

Jerk.I sent back.I… felt like he wasn’t present.

The little (…) bubble showed up for a while, meaning he was writing or debating on writing, but nothing showed up. I got up to fill my coffee cup, and found my way to the little dining table off the kitchen.

I wrote,Closed off. Porn star active, human mode off.Twice I typed ‘afraid’ only to delete it, not sure if Lukas knew or even should know. Fuck, I didn’t even know there was something more wrong. Well, more than some weird noise at night.