Page 34 of Scoring His Obsession

My breathing ratchets up, and I press my lips together. I put Micah on speaker and drop my phone to the bed so I can grip the sheets.

“I like to slowly curl my tongue around your clit, over and over. As fast or as slow as you want it. I listen to your body. I take my cues from your moans.”

As soon as he says it, a long moan escapes my chest while pleasure radiates from my core.

“Would you like it if I stroked your nipples?”

I whimper, the sound borderline pathetic, but I’m beyond caring.

“You do. Well, consider me flicking my tongue across your clit while I pull at your perfect nipples. You’re shaking, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I breathe out. Already, I can feel the pleasure tightening in anticipation of release. “Micah.”

“Fuck me,” he breathes. “I’m going to get in my car.”

“No time,” I pant. “Keep going.”

“You taste like heaven. I suck your clit into my mouth. Take a whole fistful of your tits.”

“Yes,” I whine. My fingers tighten their circle over the hard bud. “Micah.”

“You won’t have trouble now, will you? You want to come in my mouth. I want your juices all over my lips. God, Raeann, I’m so fucking hard.”

My breath hitches again.

“Fuuuck,” he groans. “Are you close, baby?”

I make a sound that’s both pleasure and pain from need.

“You’re there. Just a little more.”

My fingers rub a frenzied circle over and over until a strangled cry escapes my lips. Breaths saw in and out of my chest like I just ran a marathon, and my body releases all tension in the form of waves of pleasure. I lay there, spent and lazy, myfingers still wringing out every last ounce of pleasure, but then they, too, slide to the bed until I’m one lump of relief.

“That was perfect,” Micah rasps.

“Mmm.”

“Go on a date with me, Raeann Gorman. Not because you won me. Not because I am who I am, but because you want to.”

Call it a sex-induced haze, but “I want to” falls out of my mouth.

“Tonight,” he says, then he hangs up.

10

Micah

Davis: He’s ready.

The text pops up on my screen as I pull up to the curb outside Raeann’s apartment. Davis, one of our beefy linebackers, owns a restaurant here in town, and he’s been known to do a favor for a couple of us guys. One not nearly as time sensitive as mine, though.

Me: You’re saving my ass. Thanks. I owe you one.

Davis: You bet your ass you do. Ignore all the social media accounts saying we had a gas leak.

I shake my head. For real, that’s some true brotherhood shit. I owe him big time.

Me: You’re invited to the wedding.

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