left him. Micah had still responded
as if he had lost a full mate, probably because Jackson's departure triggered
the memory of the loss of his first mate, Katarina.
Katarina had been a full mate. He had experienced a calling with her and everything. Several callings, actually. Even so, his mating
to Katarina hadn't been as strong as what he felt for Samantha.
He would die instantly if he ever lost Sam. His heart would
simply cease to beat. And not just because she was his third mate and it was a
miracle he had survived the loss of his first two. No, he would die for the
simple reason that one couldn't live without their most vital organ, and for
Micah, Sam was just that. She was more important to his survival than his heart
or his soul. She was his heart. She was his soul. Nothing was
more important to him in this entire world than she was.
After pulling on a pair of boxer briefs and the pair of
nylon sweats he'd been holding, he snagged a black Under Armor shirt from the
closet and pulled it over his head before heading back out to the kitchen.
Sam was spooning chili into bowls, and he walked up behind
her and wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly as he dipped his
nose into her fragrant hair.
"I love you," he whispered.
She giggled and pressed back into him, placing her delicate
hand over his arm. "What's gotten into you?"
"I just wanted to tell you that." He grinned into
her hair and inhaled before leaning his head to the side to capture her mouth
in a tender caress.
Trace cleared his throat and Micah turned and gave him a
smirk. "What? Do you want a kiss, too?"
With a harrumph and a frown, Trace shook his head.
"Fuck no, shithead."
He and Sam laughed at him. "Awe, what's the problem,
Trace?" Sam reached out and pushed him playfully on the arm. "Is
Micah too much man for you?"
Trace ran his large hand over his shaved head as he turned
and reached for some crackers. "Hell, no." Then he grinned out of the
corner of his mouth and glanced at them sideways. "He's not enough of one to get with this." Trace waved his hand down his body then turned
and shook his ass side-to-side twice before leaving them in his wake to take up
residence on the couch.
Micah and Sam laughed as he went.
"Trace, my man, you have no idea how much of a man I
can be!" Micah called after him then kissed Sam on the cheek and grabbed
one of the other bowls of chili.
"Yeah, yeah." Trace waved his spoon over his head
without turning around, and then propped his feet up on the ottoman. "Shut
up, you braggart, the game's about to start."
Micah caught Sam's eye then trailed his gaze down to her ass
as he ran his hand over her behind. "No panty lines." He kept his
voice quiet and popped his eyebrows at her.
"I told you I wasn't going to wear any," she
whispered.
"Mmm, I like it." He leaned in and nibbled her
earlobe.
"Stop." She giggled and tried to pull away, but he
clutched her and pulled her close.
"Micah!"
He pressed his lips to her ear. "You were serious then?
You want me to fuck you out here later?"
She looked up at him through her lashes and bit her bottom
lip, obviously aroused and a little surprised at his use of the f-word. Not
that she should be surprised. He said fuck all the time. But when it came to
what he and she did together, they usually referred to it as making love.
Somehow, though, making love didn't sound right for what she apparently wanted
him to do to her, because hadn't she herself referred to it as fucking instead
of making love earlier when they were, um, playing.
After a moment's hesitation, she grinned and nodded.
"Yes."
"Why, Miss Garrett, I do like how you think."
"Why, thank you, Mr. Black."
He purred. "Let the fun begin."
"Oh yes, let it."
After giving Sam's ass a gentle squeeze, he grabbed two
beers in his right hand and led her to the living room.
"Here you go." He held the beers out to Trace for
him to take one.
"Awe, you do care." Trace grabbed one and set it
on a coaster.
"Only a
as if he had lost a full mate, probably because Jackson's departure triggered
the memory of the loss of his first mate, Katarina.
Katarina had been a full mate. He had experienced a calling with her and everything. Several callings, actually. Even so, his mating
to Katarina hadn't been as strong as what he felt for Samantha.
He would die instantly if he ever lost Sam. His heart would
simply cease to beat. And not just because she was his third mate and it was a
miracle he had survived the loss of his first two. No, he would die for the
simple reason that one couldn't live without their most vital organ, and for
Micah, Sam was just that. She was more important to his survival than his heart
or his soul. She was his heart. She was his soul. Nothing was
more important to him in this entire world than she was.
After pulling on a pair of boxer briefs and the pair of
nylon sweats he'd been holding, he snagged a black Under Armor shirt from the
closet and pulled it over his head before heading back out to the kitchen.
Sam was spooning chili into bowls, and he walked up behind
her and wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly as he dipped his
nose into her fragrant hair.
"I love you," he whispered.
She giggled and pressed back into him, placing her delicate
hand over his arm. "What's gotten into you?"
"I just wanted to tell you that." He grinned into
her hair and inhaled before leaning his head to the side to capture her mouth
in a tender caress.
Trace cleared his throat and Micah turned and gave him a
smirk. "What? Do you want a kiss, too?"
With a harrumph and a frown, Trace shook his head.
"Fuck no, shithead."
He and Sam laughed at him. "Awe, what's the problem,
Trace?" Sam reached out and pushed him playfully on the arm. "Is
Micah too much man for you?"
Trace ran his large hand over his shaved head as he turned
and reached for some crackers. "Hell, no." Then he grinned out of the
corner of his mouth and glanced at them sideways. "He's not enough of one to get with this." Trace waved his hand down his body then turned
and shook his ass side-to-side twice before leaving them in his wake to take up
residence on the couch.
Micah and Sam laughed as he went.
"Trace, my man, you have no idea how much of a man I
can be!" Micah called after him then kissed Sam on the cheek and grabbed
one of the other bowls of chili.
"Yeah, yeah." Trace waved his spoon over his head
without turning around, and then propped his feet up on the ottoman. "Shut
up, you braggart, the game's about to start."
Micah caught Sam's eye then trailed his gaze down to her ass
as he ran his hand over her behind. "No panty lines." He kept his
voice quiet and popped his eyebrows at her.
"I told you I wasn't going to wear any," she
whispered.
"Mmm, I like it." He leaned in and nibbled her
earlobe.
"Stop." She giggled and tried to pull away, but he
clutched her and pulled her close.
"Micah!"
He pressed his lips to her ear. "You were serious then?
You want me to fuck you out here later?"
She looked up at him through her lashes and bit her bottom
lip, obviously aroused and a little surprised at his use of the f-word. Not
that she should be surprised. He said fuck all the time. But when it came to
what he and she did together, they usually referred to it as making love.
Somehow, though, making love didn't sound right for what she apparently wanted
him to do to her, because hadn't she herself referred to it as fucking instead
of making love earlier when they were, um, playing.
After a moment's hesitation, she grinned and nodded.
"Yes."
"Why, Miss Garrett, I do like how you think."
"Why, thank you, Mr. Black."
He purred. "Let the fun begin."
"Oh yes, let it."
After giving Sam's ass a gentle squeeze, he grabbed two
beers in his right hand and led her to the living room.
"Here you go." He held the beers out to Trace for
him to take one.
"Awe, you do care." Trace grabbed one and set it
on a coaster.
"Only a
Similar Books
