Page 167 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“We’ll see about that.”

Micah tosses the ball in the air before catching it. “If I win, then I get to take Willow on a camping date.”

Both men gape at him. He stares back, an eyebrow lifted in challenge. This newfound confident streak is not helping me to keep my hands to myself around Micah.

“Neither of us has done that yet,” Killian hazards a guess. “You want to go first?”

Micah shrugs. “That’s what I want.”

“I guess it’s up to Willow,” he concedes.

I wink at Micah. “I’d love that.”

We’ve slipped into this weirdly comfortable arrangement without any formalities like dating. That’s reserved for the real world. There are no such expectations in Briar Valley, but I realise that I’d like nothing more than to go on a normal first date.

“I want the same thing then,” Killian pipes up. “Willow?”

“If that’s what you want. Sure.”

All shaking hands in agreement, we spread out to separate corners of the lake. The first person to drop the ball gets a strike, and three strikes equals losing. Zach begins to play dirty, hitting the ball far too hard. I’m the first to be knocked out.

“No washing up for me,” Zach boasts.

“Then you won’t get dinner cooked for you either.”

“Hey!”

“Them’s the rules, Zachariah.”

Micah’s beaten next. His brother’s quick reflexes and disregard for the rules overpowers him. He quickly ends up with three strikes and joins me on the other side of the lake, out of the firing line.

Beneath the water, his hands slip under my legs to grab me by the ass. I almost scream in surprise. There’s a devilish twinkle in his green eyes as he tugs me closer, holding me against the hard planes of his body.

“I’m still taking you on that date. Fuck them.”

“You are?” I grin at him.

“If you’ll have me.”

“Do you even have to ask?”

Mouth slanting against mine, he seals the deal with a sweet kiss. His lips are like velvet, moving in a slow, languorous tango that threatens to crumble my flimsy self-control. I’m always left wanting more with Micah.

Shifting against him, I can feel his length thickening beneath me. It presses up into the wet lace covering my core, hidden from sight by the water. I’m powerless to stop myself from pushing against his cock, loving the firm press of hardness.

“Willow,” he grunts.

“Sorry. I’ll stop.”

When I try to swim away from him, Micah traps me in place. “No, it’s not that. There’s just something that I haven’t told you.”

“Oh?”

Still kneading my ass, his length rocks up into me. He’s shifting so slowly, not even the water rippling betrays his movement. Each agonising brush leaves me desperate for more.

“You know I’m… inexperienced.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

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