Con’s hard eyes held mine as he nodded. “I know,” he murmured, and then he drew me down for a kiss. It was a soul-stealing, breath-stopping kiss that left me shaking. When he broke the kiss, I found myself seeking out his mouth again. And again. Being there just felt so right that I was afraid to lose that connection with him. I was more afraid of that than I was of what might happen next between us in that big bed.
I was breathing heavily by the time I forced myself to put some space between us. Not a lot of space, though. “So, Con, what happens now?” I asked.
“Anything you want,” Con said, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Anything, Micah. Ask and it's yours.”
“Stay,” I said. He’d already told me he would, but in that moment it was what I wanted more than anything, and I wasn’t just talking about for the night. But I couldn’t tell him that.
Not yet.
I wasn’t even sure it was something I’d ever be able to admit to. But I could worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, Con was mine and I had no intention of letting him go.
Chapter Twenty-One
Con
He was gone by the time I woke up the next morning.
I tried not to panic.
I really did.
But the second I turned over and saw that empty spot on the bed, the fear kicked in and I practically leapt out of bed. It was only when I saw Micah’s clothes sitting neatly folded on the chair in the corner and the small suitcase I'd purchased for him still sitting in the open closet that I realized the night before had been real.
He’d meant what he said.
He wanted me.
Not just because he was physically attracted to me, but because he knew there was something there between us. Something more.
I was ashamed of how I'd behaved when I’d thought Micah was trying to figure out a polite way to ask me to leave his bed.
I sat back down on the bed and found myself actually laughing out loud. My brothers had this impression that I was the smooth talker and knew everything there was to know about romance. That last part was sort of true. I was good at wining and dining, but when it came to talking, really talking, I was a beginner at best.
I sighed and glanced at the rumpled sheets. I’d loved every moment of giving Micah pleasure. Once we'd gotten past the awkward crap that I'd forced to the surface with my behavior, I’d loved everything that had come afterward too. Once we’d put the heavier shit behind us, we’d talked about inconsequential things.
The good things.
Those little bright spots in our lives that we'd each clung to in order to survive the darkness.
His favorite color was blue. He liked peanut butter and chocolate but not peanut butter and jelly and he absolutely hated eating peanuts. When he'd been a little kid, he’d wanted to drive delivery trucks. He’d thought there could be no better job than getting to drive a cool truck and delivering packages to people that would make them smile.
In turn, I’d told him I loved watching cooking shows and had always dreamed of being a chef. And I’d told him about how badly I wanted to travel to Greece to see my homeland. I told him that I'd been named after my grandfather, Constantine, and that I came from a long line of men who shared that same name. I’d gone on to share all the little details I’d learned about my grandparents before I’d lost them. The morning sun had begun to filter through the curtains by the time we’d fallen asleep in each other's arms.
I got to my feet and made quick use of the bathroom before heading downstairs. I could feel this perpetual grin on my face that became a full-on smile when I heard the familiar sound of humming as I neared the kitchen. I paused in the doorway when I saw Micah’s pert ass on display. My guy was bent over the oven, presumably cleaning it, so he was completely unaware of my presence.
I didn't see the kids, so I took advantage of the sight before me and just enjoyed the view. I waited until Micah closed the oven and began wiping down the stovetop before moving quietly in behind him. Not surprisingly, Micah jumped when I settled my hands on his hips, but before he could react in any other way, I turned his head and sealed my mouth over his. He moaned as I kissed him, and I didn't care in the least when his damp fingers, which smelled faintly of cleaning products, came up to grab my face as he twisted in my arms. I took my time making love to his mouth and by the time I released him, we were both breathless.