Page 113 of Save Me

They are.

“Hey, hottie.” He moves as if he’s going to breeze past me. That hot body is lithe despite his fatigue. His tattoos are out today, and fuck, if it doesn’t make my dick harder. But he’s moving away from me. Moving out of my grasp.

I reach out and grab his hips, pulling him into me. Even his proximity lights up my entire body, and sparks fly where my hands are touching him.

Micah sucks in a breath of air and looks up at me with those blue eyes. They look more icy today, and I can’t tell if it’s the harsh lighting or maybe his mood.

“Hey,” I say, glancing at his lips to see what his reaction will be.

Micah swallows hard, watching the movement of my eyes.

I want to dig my fingers into his hips, but I don’t want to hurt him if he’s still healing, and I plan on finding that out. I want to pull him to me and press his hips into my thigh so he can grind against it, but then I stop myself, pulling him away gently.

“Jiminy Cricket,” Micah breathes, his eyelashes fluttering. “Well, hello to you, too.” He has that glazed look on his face that makes a bolt of pride shoot through me. I did that with just a touch. How far can I push him with more?

No! Focus.

“Take your shirt off,” I demand.

Before I can blink, it’s off, and Micah is looking up at me. Fuck, he has such a hot body, layered with slim muscle and ink. A body I want to sink into, to watch as it arches in pleasure. The pleasure I’m giving.

I bite my lip. “Bed.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Micah throws himself on the orange duvet.

I snort. I’ve never been called Daddy before, but Micah makes it sound so sassy and joyful. I can’t say I’m opposed.

No. Focus, Jesus.

“How are you feeling?” I move to stand next to him. I can still see a bit of bruising on the lower left side of his torso, although the color looks a hell of a lot better. It’s more yellow now and a lot lighter.

“Like a million bucks. A trillion if you put those hands on me.”

I will, but I tell myself it’s because I’m palpating his bruise and not because I want to feel Micah’s soft skin. Gently, I press along the boundary of the area. “Feel any pain?”

Micah’s breathing stays consistent. “Nope.” But as I touch, goosebumps erupt over his skin.

“Roll over,” I say, then realize I sound bossy as hell. “Please.”

Micah obeys immediately, and for a second, I’m relieved that his head isn’t facing me so he doesn’t see the boner I’m sporting. Micah turns his head to face it, his face right at the perfect level to be in my groin.

I pull in a breath. Okay, well, he’s gonna see it then.

I look over his back. I don’t see any visible bruising, but I’m concerned about bruising on his ribs, since they might not show. It’s harder to see his breathing here, so I say, “What are you feeling?”

“I uh…” Micah clears his throat. “Nothing appropriate, so maybe ask me something else, Mr. Doctor man.”

I press on his ribs. I definitely should ask him something else, but suddenly, all other questions have left my mind. What specific inappropriate thing was he thinking about?

But Micah has stopped talking, and I can’t see if the pressure is causing him to suck in a breath, so I say, “Tell me.”

“Well, I have a family history of heart attacks.” Micah pulls in a stuttered breath. I glance down at his face, at first concerned that the breathing pattern is because he’s in pain.

Only, Micah is stifling a laugh. “Oh, sorry, were you asking about the other thing?”

This little shit. I catch a glimpse of Micah’s eyes, and his pupils are blown. Blown like he’s aroused. Although it could also be from pain. And yet, the eyes that are usually stressed toss me a sassy look. That look shoots straight to my dick.

He’s challenging me.