Page 25 of Scoring His Obsession

“What?”

“On the card? It’s yours, Raeann Gorman.”

“You…got me a credit card?”

“I added you to my account, and you can use it whenever you want, for whatever you want.” His fingers slip beyond the edge of the fabric, sneaking closer to my nipple. Just when I think he might touch or tease or tweak, he pulls his hands away. “Do you understand?”

My breaths come out in a short stutter. I can barely inhale with his scent everywhere on me.

The pulse in my wrist beats erratically. The swarm of panic that I’m all too familiar with rises from the shadows like a sinister shroud. I wait for it to come, my body prepping to be completely overtaken by the assault…but it never happens.

It’s soon quelled when Micah walks his fingers up my thigh, pulling the hem of my dress higher inch by inch. “Have you thought about us? I haven’t gotten you out of my head. During practice, during a game. Nearly every waking moment, my brain wants to know where you are and what you’re doing. I’ve imagined you naked in my bed, in my shower, and just now, when you bid on me, I imagined thrusting into you with a need I haven’t felt before. What I wouldn’t give…”

My legs tremble, but I’m molded to his body, taking on his form. My head rests on his expansive chest while he slides his cock over the curve of my ass.

“Well, have you?” he asks, voice gruffer than before. Barely controlled.

“I am right now,” I tell him honestly.

He groans into my ear. Hands at my panty line now, he traces the lace leading to my core, and again, just when I think he might touch my sensitive skin, he reverses his direction.

Groaning, his fingers grip me where they are. A sort of desperate clenching.

“I better stop now before I embarrass myself.” His mouth moves to my ear. “I’m so close to coming in my pants like a prepubescent teen. Know it’s all because of you, Raeann. God help me.”

He drops the hem of my dress, and the fabric swishes around my thighs again. With two firm hands on my hips, he moves me forward. I nearly stumble, but he rights me with a strong grip on my shoulder before whispering in my ear, “Someday soon.” Then all at once, his heat leaves. He walks past, brushing his suit from chest to final seam.

Even from the rear, he’s a specimen. It takes a few minutes for my brain to catch up with my body. Micah Freeman is a tantalizing seducer. Weaving his web for me to fall into.

On the other side of the room, he greets Tab like he wasn’t over here feeling me up and making me think and want things that are beyond my norm. It’s as if he’s in my brain, altering its chemistry.

Even now, I can feel the hard plastic of his credit card against the soft tissue of my breast. What am I supposed to do with this? Give it back? Reprimand him? I reach up and tuck it into a place more comfortable before exhaling and shaking out my hands until a sense of normalcy returns.

I know what another woman would do. Use it. She would buy herself things. Shower herself with gifts. I’ve never really wanted much, though. A decent home to come back to and food that isn’t past its expiration date.

I’m already living that life.

Admittedly, the thrill that ran through me when I bid a hundred thousand dollars on him is—in other ways—nearly as intoxicating as Micah himself.

It feels wrong to want to do it again, but the dogs? The cats? It can give them shelter and food to survive on. Every animal deserves that. No matter what their current situation.

I want to bethatperson. Like Micah, who can drop a sizable amount on a whim. I want to do good things with money.

After straightening my dress and making sure the skirt isn’t tucked in anywhere unseemly, I walk back to the table. Tab reaches out her hand, and I take it and squeeze.

Micah’s gaze holds mine, heat transferring between us like a live wire.

“So, Micah,” I start, “do you have any accountant recommendations?”

“Oh yes,” Tab says, sitting up straight. Her eyes shine as she puts on her business hat. “Good idea.”

“I can give you the name of mine.”

“That would be awesome,” Tab remarks. “Also, if you know anyone who wants to work at a pet fashion store?”

He smirks. “Back end or front end?”

I break his gaze to look at Tab, and we both shrug before I turn and say, “Both.”

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