Home > Heart Of The Hounded (Eden Academy # 0)(7)

Heart Of The Hounded (Eden Academy # 0)(7)
Author: Grace McGinty

Dammit. “Um, Brian? You wouldn’t know him. He’s, uh, an accountant.”

No one asks questions when you say that you’re an accountant.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer. “Respectable job. Do you think he’ll be able to provide for you?”

He’d leaned closer, and I’m pretty sure I forgot how to breathe. “Um, I think so.”

Micah smoothed a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Do you think that he’ll make you happy?”

I blinked rapidly. I was definitely having heart palpitations now. “Sure?”

He moved until his lips were barely an inch from mine. “Do you think he’ll make your heart beat this fast? Or kiss you like this?”

Then his lips touched mine and it was… everything. The warm press of his mouth, the way his tongue snuck past mine when I gasped. His hands moved to my waist and he pulled me tight against his body.

My brain finally seemed to catch up and I kissed him back. I tried not to happy dance with my feet as I kissed him, the way you did a little dance when you tasted something yummy.

Micah was freaking delicious. My tongue tangled with his and my hands snuck up around his neck, threading into his hair and he groaned.

He gripped my ass and lifted me easily. I almost came on the spot. Isn’t that every woman's fantasy? To be thrown around like a ragdoll as you’re ravished by a sexy as hell man?

He pushed me against the exterior wall, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. The way the long line of his body was cradled by my soft curves was complete perfection. He kissed his way down my neck and then over the rough scar in the curve of my shoulder. It had been the only one of my wounds to scar, the rest of them had healed up like they’d never even existed. He sucked it into his mouth and I swear to god, it was like there was a golden cord from the pink flesh of that scar to my devil’s doorbell. And Micah, he was ringing it like he was Quasi-fucking-modo.

I was living the dream and I didn’t ever want it to stop

Then it stopped.

Dammit, I’d jinxed it.

Micah lowered me to the ground, his face looking all sorts of conflicted. “I should, uh, go back to chopping wood.”

With that, he hightailed it out of there like his fluffy tail was on fire. I could sense his turmoil, his lust, his fear.

What was he scared of, and more importantly, how the hell could I feel his emotions at all?

 

 

5

 

 

I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, but Micah and that kiss. I wanted him to do it again. I could feel the turmoil running through his head like a dull fog in the back of my mind. It was weird and I was pretty convinced that I’d finally lost it. Apologies to Rita, maybe mental illness was hereditary.

I took stock of how I felt. One, I was extremely attracted to him, that much was obvious, but there was something else. I had never felt much for boys or men growing up, especially not after the fiasco in the woods. I had only ever kissed two boys and been on a handful of dates. I mean, I’d gotten close with sleep apnea guy, but we’d never gotten past the Netflix part of Netflix and chill.

I’d thought that maybe I was a lesbian there for a little while, but I didn’t much like other girls either. Asexual maybe? I just didn’t like people very much and had resigned myself to a lifetime of being a spinster with a thousand cats, and I’d eventually get my face pecked off by chickens when I had a heart attack in their coop. It was a real fear. They were tiny dinosaurs, after all.

Well, apparently I was really wrong because what I felt for Micah wasn’t particularly non-sexual. Scratch that. It was red hot, grade A, prime membership to PornHub sexual. He made me feel things that went above attraction. I had almost spontaneously combusted when he kissed me. And I wanted more. A lot more.

My newfound psychosis told me that he was really into me as well. I poked at the weird spot in my head that I assumed was Micah. It was broody and just kind of felt like him.

I was trying to decide how to tell a wolf/man that I wanted him, and also that I knew he was horny for me too, as I walked through the front door of the house. I was prevented from saying anything by Micah’s sudden appearance in my path.

“I’m so sorry, Layla. I had no right to do what I did.”

I wasn’t particularly sure why he was apologizing but I nodded in a forgiving way, unable to say anything that would even sound like I regretted one millisecond of that kiss. I felt his relief rush through my mind.

I gave him my biggest smile. “Micah, the only regret I have is that you didn’t take off my pants and bang me into last century. It was the best two minutes of my life, and I’d very much like for you to do it again and again.”

I felt his desire spike before he quickly squashed it. He turned and walked away from me, drawn to the roaring fire. His measured movements seemed so graceful and fluid that it was obvious he did not suffer from human frailties. He didn’t have stiff muscles from all the manual labor, or a bad knee that was playing up in the snow from his glory days of highschool football.

I shrugged off my jacket and went into the living room too, moving towards the fire to melt the chill in my bones. I didn’t push about our kiss. There was time for this attraction to percolate between us. I wasn’t in a rush. He knew how I felt now, and I knew how he felt, even if he hadn’t voiced the words.

That was a stalker statement if I’ve ever heard one.

I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “Tell me more about being a Lycanthrope. About you.”

Micah looked over his shoulder at me, and he was so freaking beautiful that I had to clench my fists in order to stop myself from touching him.

“I was born in Persia, two hundred and fifteen years ago, give or take a few years. You stop counting your birthdays after the end of a natural lifetime. Being a Lycan is no different to being any other kind of supernatural. I guess we are most closely associated with shifters, except we can live forever. Unlike the shifters, I’m not two-natured. I’m me in either form, though I am a little more volatile as the monster.”

Holy shit. I’m sure a couple of centuries wasn’t an insurmountable age gap. Leaning closer to his body, I laid my head against his shoulder. He tensed, and I reached out to stroke his face. When he didn’t pull away, I cupped his cheeks with both hands, pressing the tips of my fingers into the sides of his head. The shape of his high cheekbones molded into my palms, the stubble on his chin scraping my wrists. I stared so deeply into his yellow eyes that I lost my breath, finally understanding what drowning in someone’s eyes actually meant.

“You’re not a monster. I was wrong.” I hesitated. “And I meant what I said. I want you to kiss me again, Micah.” My voice faltered a little, barely a whisper. I leaned forward until my face was a breath away, waiting.

This time I would make the first move.

When his lips touched mine, they were so hot it almost burned. His hands buried themselves in my hair, pulling me closer and holding me away at the same time. I deepened the kiss, running my tongue along his lips and then darting it into his mouth before he had a chance to change his mind and pull away.

He groaned, his body shuddering against mine, and I felt the moment he let go. He sank back onto the couch and dragged me onto his lap, his arms snaking around my waist. His hand slipped under my shirt and rubbed my lower back as he took control of the kiss. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, and I made a whimpering noise that seemed to snap him out of his reverie. He dumped me unceremoniously off his lap and back onto the couch.

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