Page 55 of Psycho

A sharp knock came at the door, and I jumped, clutching my chest.

It seemed my time was up.

Slowly, I opened the door and peeked out into the darkened hallway. The space I had expected him to stand was empty.

Where did he go?

Would he be cruel enough to hide in the dark and jump out to scare me?

The light in his room was on, but I wasn’t sure if Micah was in there or not.

I stepped out of the bathroom, turning off the lights behind me and encasing the space in near darkness.

We really were in the middle of nowhere.

Not a single city light was found in the place, and everything was just so quiet.

I was used to falling asleep to the sound of people fighting, screaming, partying, and the occasional gunshots that I sometimes pretended were fireworks to make me feel better over my apathy.

I walked over to his bedroom door and stood there, unsure of what to do.

Knock or just go in?

Or should I sleep on the couch?

It might be a little cold, but it looked comfortable from what I saw.

I was about to turn around and do just that when his voice came out from behind me.

“What are you doing?”

I jumped about a foot in the air and turned around to yell at him for sneaking up on me in the dark when all the words I was about to say died on my lips.

My mouth opened a few times before I sputtered a bit, then closed quickly as I took him in.

Fuck.

He had obviously just brushed his teeth because I could smell the minty toothpaste on him, and his hair was a little damp.

He was also in boxer briefs.

He was also innothingbut boxer briefs.

My eyes made a slow perusal up and down his body, taking in his powerful hairy legs that were set slightly apart, up to the noticeable bulge in the boxers—and the thing was, I didn’t think he was aroused right now.

I swallowed as my eyes moved up from the cut V lines that ran down on either side of his hips, hard stomach filled with one… two… three…eightpack abs, up to his sternum, his huge pecs… fuck, those broad shoulders that looked even bigger now that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, cords upon cords of muscle on his arms, a thick neck, scruff that I had the sudden urge to run my palm against, and finally, amused gray eyes.

I blushed a deep shade of red and quickly looked down at the floor at my bare feet.

He was surprisingly free of ink, save for the King’s Men symbol on his right rib. I had only seen a handful of the members around here and there, especially in the fighting cage, but all of them had been covered with ink.

He stepped in closer to me.

I didn’t bother looking up.

He leaned down until his lips touched my ear and said, “Nothing to be embarrassed about. You can look at me all you want.”

I was looking at him, my eyes coming down directly to his defined stomach.

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