Page 49 of Michael: The Hawthornes

“No, it isn’t.” I pulled against his grip, but he didn’t let go. “I just didn’t plan ahead.”

“You thought you’d come back and we’d be a little happy family?” he growled. “After three fuckin’ years?”

“That’s not—” I stuttered. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“For all you knew, I was fuckin’ married,” he continued, his voice still laced with bewilderment. “Or a fuckin’ addict. Or fuckin’ my way through the county. I coulda been a complete piece of shit. You don’t even goddamn know me anymore.”

“I know you,” I breathed, taking in his long eyelashes and the scar on his forehead that he’d gotten by hitting his head on his parents’ front porch when we were eight. The freckle on the side of his nose was as familiar as my own face, I’d kissed it so many times. “I’ll always know exactly who you are.”

“Jesus, Emilia,” he whispered, his head fell forward. A heartbeat later, I jerked in surprise when his lips met mine.

I almost pulled away to ask him what the hell we were doing, but the thought of losing his fingers in my hair and his tongue running along my bottom lip kept me silent. I’d dreamed that I’d have him back like this, that I’d feel him against me at some point, someday, but the fantasy had nothing on real life. It was so much better. Every sense was heightened as one hand left my hair and slid down my body, pressing between my shoulder blades, running firmly down the back of my jeans and finally gripping my ass hard.

It only took a moment for me to realize what he wanted, and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and leaped, wrapping my legs around his waist. My back hit the side of the Subaru with a thud. Using his hips to pin me in place, Micky’s hands started to roam. I gasped against his mouth as his hands slid under my sweatshirt, his long fingers finding their way along each rib until his thumbs slid over my nipples.

After that, there was no stopping us. It was inevitable, really. No matter how old we were or how long it had been since we’d seen each other, we were drawn like a couple of magnets. The spark that had started our friendship as kids and morphed into more as teenagers was still there, always simmering just under the surface. All it took was a look, an argument, a touch, and that spark burst into flame. We didn’t even notice as the rain went from a sprinkle to a downpour.

He stripped off my sweatshirt, my tank top, my bra. I tore at his leather cut, flannel, and the t-shirt beneath it. His fingers didn’t hesitate or fumble as he unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans.

I should have anticipated it. Maybe then, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find myself bare-assed except for my socks and sneakers in the middle of the woods, soaking wet from the rain, getting fucked against the side of my car.

“Holy shit,” I wheezed, my nails digging into Mick’s back as he slid inside.

His hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place like it was nothing, and as he pulled out and thrust back in again, he used them to shift my body just a fraction. The slight change in position as he thrust made my eyes water and my mouth fall open in shock. I didn’t know where he’d learned that trick, and I didn’t want to know—I just wanted him to keep doing it.

“Goddamn,” he whispered, his face in my neck. “Fuck, Emilia.”

Letting my head fall back against the car, I tightened my arms around his neck, dug my fingers into his back, closed my eyes, and let the rain pour down my face as he thrust over and over again, his cock hitting in exactly the right spot. Minutes later, I came with a loud moan that I couldn’t have held in if I’d tried. It seemed to echo around us as he froze and ground against me, finding his own release.

Almost immediately afterward, still wrapped around each other and panting heavily, we both stiffened as reality set in.

My legs felt stiff and achy as he gently lowered me back onto my feet, and I was acutely aware of how cold it was outside as I reached for my now soaking-wet clothing. I shivered as I stepped away from the car and started to dress.

“That was a fuckin’ terrible idea,” Mick said, righting his jeans and boxers.

In our haste, he hadn’t even fully taken them off, just let them sag around his thighs. For some reason, it made me embarrassed as hell that I’d been fully naked. I turned my back to him as I tried to clasp my bra. My fingers felt numb from the cold, and I struggled with it until warm hands brushed mine away and clasped it for me.

“Thanks,” I muttered, dragging on my freezing cold tank top.

“You covered?”

It took me a moment to grasp what he was asking. “Yeah, I have an IUD.”

“Thank Christ,” he muttered, grabbing my sweatshirt from the ground. “Here—it was under my flannel.”

I threw the sweatshirt on, thankful that it had been shielded a little from the rain and wasn’t quite as damp as everything else. I tucked my underwear into the pocket of my jeans, thankful that they fit baggy and I was actually able to pull the damp fabric over my shoes and up my legs.

“So, um…” I murmured, looking anywhere but directly at him. It was insane how uncomfortable I was while still feeling the lingering effects of the orgasm I’d just had.

“Get in the car,” he ordered, not unkindly. He opened the door for me and closed it again once I was safely inside.

I slicked my hair back from my face as I watched him jog around the hood, then dried my face with the sleeves of my sweatshirt, hiding, as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

We were silent as he started the engine and turned the heater on full blast.

If there was something more uncomfortable than sitting in a rapidly heating car while wearing clothes that were damp all the way through, I couldn’t think of it. Everything clung, and my jeans chafed as I shifted in my seat.

“I’m not gonna take him from you,” Michael said quietly, his voice in the silent car startling me.

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