And I’ll be next on the list for failing to provide grown-ass adults their breakfast.
Calling my insurance company to get some help with my tire, I’m told that it’ll take twenty minutes for someone to arrive.
It takes an hour.
With my already impeding lack of patience going through my body, I jump out of my car the moment I see the white tow truck pull up from behind me onto the shoulder. It may not be his fault; he could’ve been busy, but I need this tire fixed ASAP. If I have time, I might be able to squeeze in a donut run if I haul ass.
But my heels skid against the gravel rocks because out slides Micah in all his sexy, tight black tee glory. His tattoos pop from his tan skin as a smirk promptly illuminates his all-dark features.
The man is a walking eye-fuck.
Every contour and curve of his face is perfection. And I’ve seen his naked body thrusting into mine last weekend when he gravely muttered in my ear that he could get lost in me forever. That my pussy was the best he’s ever had and how he could feel me pulsate against him with every thrust.
He’s a constant thought. I’ve picked up my phone so many times to call him, but I had a last-minute moment of relapse with how bad of an idea that would’ve been.
But a supernatural force with an awful sense of humor keeps placing us here.
Yards apart, bodies buzzing, and that little thing called my job standing in the way of me jumping his bones right now.
“Hello, Miss,” he greets, his tone dripping with sex, allure, and charm. All three deadly things when this man already knows what I feel like from the inside out. “Havin’ trouble with your car?”
I bob my head, my voice already fled in the opposite direction because if it comes to the forefront, I might squeak out something and sound like an idiot.
Micah leans his hip against my back fender, where my flat tire resides. “You been waitin’ out here long?”
I clear my throat, crossing my arms along my chest because my little sweater wrapped around my shoulders doesn’t stop the hot chills from stopping. “An hour.”
“Damn, I just got the call five minutes ago.”
What the hell?
He haunches down, and I think he’s going to go examine the damage done to my tire, but instead his heated blues fall freely down the length of me. And I don’t know if he does it on purpose to break my resolve or if he just can’t help himself, but my skin breaks out in pebbled goosebumps under that scorching inspection.
“Don’t worry, I’ll have this done soon if you didn’t bend the rim.”
Yeah, I’m not computing a thing he says because I just got locked into this man’s gaze.
I’m supposed to be staying away from him, not wishing he’d just slam me against the side of my Chevy Malibu and spread my legs.
Maybe I could if he’d stop looking at me like he remembers what I taste like.
“You need to get to work ASAP?”
“Yeah.” I’m surprised I’m able to get that one word out. I’m actually embarrassed that I’m acting this way, too.
When Micah left my house the next day from fucking my brains out, we didn’t make any arrangements to see each other. It was as though it was the last time, and neither of us wanted to mention it either.
Did I hate it? Yes.
It freaking sucked that I wasn’t able to move forward with this man. And now that he’s within a few feet of me, I’m acting as though we didn’t spend most of the night tasting each other.
“You alright?”
Mentally, I shake my head, but I physically bob it instead. “Yeah…it’s been a bad morning.”
Micah rises to his full height, towering over me and cutting into some of the space between us. “Any way I can make it better?”
Do not give in, Sienna. We can’t do this.
