Page 129 of Shut Up and Score
All I can think about is the way he gasped when I pushed into him, the way his nails left crescents in my shoulders, the way he kissed me as if he’d been starving for years.
He swipes his key card and shoulders his dorm door open,muttering something under his breath, and I follow him in without hesitation.
The door clicks shut behind us, and my eyes land on his unmade bed. Sheets kicked down, pillows askew. A bottle of lube still on the nightstand from this morning. My cock twitches instantly, heat rushing south like my body doesn’t understand the concept of restraint anymore.
Micah notices where I’m looking and swears under his breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Colt?—”
“No,” I cut in, voice low, steady, the same way I would call the last play of the game. I step into his space, my hands finding his hips before he can retreat. “I’m not letting you run. Not from this. Not from me.”
His chest heaves against mine, and for a second, I think he’ll shove me away. But his fingers curl in my shirt instead, tight and desperate, and that’s all the invitation I need.
“I want more, Micah,” I murmur against his mouth. “I wantyou. Not for a night. Not in secret. For real. For good. In front of the whole world. I always have.”
His breath hitches, and I feel the last of his walls crack under my hands.
His breath stutters against my cheek, hot and uneven. He doesn’t push me away. Doesn’t move at all, caught between fight and surrender.
“Colt…” His voice cracks on my name, barely there.
I cup his jaw, tilting his face toward mine. “You can tell me to stop,” I murmur, “but I’m not walking away. Not now. Not ever.”
He swallows hard, the pulse in his throat jumping against my thumb. His fingers curl tighter in my shirt, holding on, even if his mouth won’t say it. That’s enough.
I kiss him slowly at first, pouring everything I’vebeen holding in into the press of my lips. He tastes like heat and salt and Micah, and when he opens to me, I groan against his tongue.
The hoodie he threw on after practice is in my hands one second and on the floor the next. He’s warm and solid under my palms, the same chest I kissed this morning, the same one I want to wake up to every day. My mouth finds his throat, and he tips his head back, giving me more.
“Colt…” he whispers again, but now it’s a plea.
I back him toward the bed, step by step, until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. He goes down with a soft thud, propped on his elbows, staring up at me with wide, dark eyes that make my chest ache.
“God, you’re…” I swallow hard, my voice rough. “You’re it for me, Micah. I don’t care who knows. I just need you.”
His walls are completely crumbling now, and I can see it—the way he’s fighting himself, the way he wants to believe me.
I crawl over him, kissing him again, softer this time, letting it sink in. My hands roam over his sides, his stomach, down to the waistband of his sweats. He lifts his hips without me asking, and the sound I make isn’t human.
I take my time. Peeling clothes away. Kissing every new inch of skin I uncover. Relearning him with my hands, with my mouth. I don’t want fast. I don’t want frantic. I want him to feel me in his bones.
By the time I push into him, slow and careful, his hands are gripping my arms as though he might fall apart. I hold his gaze, chest tight, moving gently, steadily, everything in me focused on the man under me.
“This isn’t just sex,” I whisper against his lips, my rhythmunhurried, my whole heart in every thrust. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”
Micah shudders, his walls completely gone now, and when he finally moans my name, it’s a promise I’ve been chasing for two years.
I move in him slowly, the world outside this dorm doesn’t exist. Every inch of him is heat and home, and I can feel him under my hands, in my chest, everywhere.
His legs hook around my hips, pulling me closer, and his eyes—God, those eyes—stay locked on mine as though he’s finally letting me see all of him.
“Colt,” he breathes, and it’s not a warning this time. It’s a surrender.
I kiss him like it’s the only thing I know how to do, swallowing the soft sounds he makes as I roll my hips, slow and deep. Each thrust is a confession I never said out loud.I love you. I want you. I’m yours if you’ll have me.
He clenches around me, and I can feel him shaking, feel every tremor run through his body into mine. My hand slips between us, fingers curling around him, stroking in time with my movements.
“Fuck—Colt—” He arches up, his back bowing off the bed, his hands gripping my shoulders as if I’m the only solid thing in the room.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, kissing his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. “Always.”
