Oh shit.
My fingers gripped the rug as his body thrust into mine. He leaned forward, kissing me roughly.
“Are you going to come again for me?” His voice was so deep that it basically strummed my clit.
“Yes.”
He moved down and took my nipple into his mouth, scraping it with his teeth, and I did exactly what he asked. I came again, and I didn’t know how it was possible, but this one was even more earth shattering. Every single muscle in my body felt like it’d turned into a pretzel, and I locked my ankle around his waist, holding him inside me as my pussy milked him. His short shallow thrusts kept bumping my clit, and when he came on a groan, I swear I saw Nirvana behind my eyelids. The place, not Kurt Cobain. No offense, Kurt. That would be weird.
He collapsed onto his elbows, moving his teeth back to the scar on my throat, and pressed his teeth there like he did when we were in the barn. My body cradled him like it was made for it.
I panted in an effort to get enough oxygen back into my body, as he rolled off me and onto the floor. My skin glistened with sweat, and I swear, I got it now. I got the joy of sex. It wasn’t just about the orgasms. It was about the connection.
A warm satisfaction pulsed in Micah’s emotions and I grinned. “Is this a bad time to tell you I think I’m a psychic, or an empath, or something?”
He chuckled, pulling me onto his chest. “Why’s that?”
“Because I can tell how happy you are right now. And horny. How the hell could you possibly want to go again already?”
Micah’s body went rigid under mine, and I worried that I’d said the wrong thing. Maybe we weren’t at the joking stage of our sexual relationship yet.
“That’s weird. When do you think this started?”
I shrugged. “Just today. Maybe your kiss reset my mojo or something. Though if people get superpowers by kissing you, there might be a line. We better get you a chapstick.”
He laughed, but it sounded a little strained. “Sleep, Layla.”
6
We settled into a domestic routine that was both comforting and exciting. Two weeks after I first found Micah on my doorstep, I had to go into Roseau for supplies; my month worth of food depleted quickly with two mouths to feed. I took Micah with me, although it took a bit of convincing to get him to come, dressed only in my sweats. Eventually, I had to resort to guilt tripping him into it. I never said I was perfect.
“But Micah, the bounty hunters may still be in town. I can’t go by myself.” I batted my eyelids, and I could tell he didn’t believe that I was scared.
"Please, you thought I was an axe murderer and you still didn't kick me out. You have a concerning lack of self preservation.” But he’d relented.
Walking around town with Micah on my arm felt right. Oh, I was still getting stares, doubly so. He was attracting way more attention than my outfit, and I’d gone all out with an ensemble of thigh high striped rainbow socks, high waisted shorts with two rows of shiny gold buttons, and a military cut jacket. I looked like I just escaped a carnival. When I’d walked outside this morning, Micah had just raised a single eyebrow, kissed me and told me I looked beautiful.
Our first stop had been the menswear store, where I’d gone in and bought a stack of jeans and tees, and then I’d had the pleasure of watching him try to wiggle into them in the car.
But nothing beat this moment right now, as I laid my proprietary claim to him when the head of the cheerleading squad in my high school year came up to me and talked to me for the first time since the ninth grade.
“Layla, how are you doing? I haven’t seen you in so long! Sorry to hear about your mom. Who’s this?” She all but purred that last part.
“Oh, this is Micah, Micah this is Sinky.” Cindy went to correct me, but I gave her my crazy smile and just continued. The other thing about pretending to be crazy? You didn’t have to follow social cues. “He’s down from the city, to help me recover, you know?” I gave an exaggerated wink as if the innuendo wasn’t as obvious as a slap in the face. Micah looked at me, his lips turned up slightly, but he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close into his chest.
He kissed the top of my head and my blush was definitely real. “Nice to meet you, Sinky.”
“It’s Cindy,” she said, rolling her C like her name was exotic and not the world's most basic white girl name on the planet.
Cindy’s eyes narrowed, and her smile tightened. I could hear the cogs turning in her head, wondering how the ‘Chew Toy’ ended up with someone as hot as Micah.
I chuckled about the irony of it all; the Chew Toy ending up with the Wolf Man.
Not that I would end up with Micah, because he would be gone before the full moon in a week. I quickly finished off my conversation with Cindy, which hadn’t got any less strained in the five or so years since graduation.
“Well, we really have to go, Cindy. I have to be home to put out the jelly sandwiches for the Babadook otherwise he’ll possess my house for a month, and I have to tell you, the last time he did that he ran up my electric bill something terrible. Oh look, there's Chief Hammond! I promised him that Micah and I would go to his place for dinner tonight. It’s been good catching up, we should do it again soon. I’ll let the sprites cook. Those bitches make a mean margarita.”
I'd rather stick hot pokers up my nostrils than hang out with Cindy. The feeling was definitely mutual too. I could feel Micah’s amusement in my head, even though his face was impassive.
Cindy turned to Micah, a frown marring her freshly botoxed face. Obviously she cheaped out and the surgeon missed a bit. “You realize she’s fucking nuts, right?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “But she’s not wrong about the sprites though. Their margaritas are delicious.”
Cindy’s mouth opened and closed like she was a fish, before she turned on her heel and walked away, shaking her head.
The part about dinner with Tony and Sue hadn’t been a lie though. I had run into Tony and he did invite Micah and me to dinner, but I assumed it was more to grill Micah than for any other reason. As we walked back to the truck, Micah didn’t take his arm from around me.
“Why do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Act like you’re nuts. Like you see things that aren’t there.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t they, Mr You-Know-What?”
He chuckled and tipped his chin. “Touché. But I’m pretty sure the Babadook wasn’t taking up residency in your spare bedroom, so the question still stands.”
I shrugged, my eyes tracking the people who were out and out staring at me. No one's mama told them it was rude to stare, apparently. “After the night with the wolves… No, it started before that. I first noticed it when I was a child and my mom still came to town. She would spout all this crazy shit about my father and the government, and people started avoiding her. They wouldn’t let me come over to play with their kids, hell most of them wouldn’t even let their children be friends with me, as if the craziness was catching. Then the accident happened, and I was all chewed up, and it was like it was proof. It didn’t help that I was making outlandish claims about Pete Bukowski as well. I went from pariah to leper in a month.”