His kiss descended on her lips and she accepted lovingly with unveiled passion. Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck. Her fingers splayed out through his short hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him.
She gave herself completely to the kiss as it grew more and more heated. Without breaking the kiss, she moved to sit astride him, relishing the feeling of him underneath her.
His lips broke away from hers as he traveled down to the sensitive part of her neck. She threw her head back, desire taking over. She had never felt more alive. Her skin had never felt more sensitive, heightening every detail of his touch. Even the way the coarse stubble on his face scratched against her skin excited her.
Her eyes flew open, her body frozen as she recalled the smooth angles of Drew’s skin.
His head lifted; their gazes locked.
Not blue.
Gray.
Her vision was clouded by the desire he ignited within her, but she couldn’t mistake the heat in those steel-gray eyes.
Josh.
It wasn’t supposed to be him! She needed to get off of him. She needed to breathe. But just as she tried to move, he pulled her back down hard against him.
He wanted her. And if she finally faced the truth, she wanted him, too.
The nip at her neck was her breaking point. Her resolve wasn’t just weakened, it was destroyed. She felt herself melt into his embrace.
Micah framed his face with both hands, wanting to look him in the eyes, to know whom she was kissing this time. His lips met hers in a demanding kiss. His tongue, sliding between her lips, entangled with her own.
She had never known such desperation, such need.
Josh pushed her back onto the couch, moving with her. He deepened the kiss as he positioned himself on top of her. Instinct drove her to wrap her legs around him, tightening the connection until space no longer existed between them.
One hand remained entwined in his hair while the other drifted down his back. The muscles rippled underneath the cotton of his T-shirt as her fingers grazed down his spine. Her hand slipped beneath the cotton to touch the heated skin of his torso. Her greedy fingers roamed to his front and moved slowly, tortuously over him. The animal-like sound he emitted further ignited her arousal.
Alarms went off in Micah’s head, but she ignored them. Instead she grabbed hold of the shirt and yanked it up. She needed it gone. Now. He obliged, pulling away from her only long enough to take it off.
The shock of feeling skin on skin forced her to look down. In the midst of her desire, she was unaware that he had unbuttoned her top and pushed it aside.
The alarm sounded again, piercing through the fog. She couldn’t stop even if she wanted to.
His large masculine hands moved over her—
“Micah!”
She bolted upright at the sound of Sabina’s shrill voice.
“Turn that stupid alarm clock off and get up! You’ve got your interview in an hour!” Sabina yelled from the other room.
Micah’s gaze took in the sheets tangled around her ankles, her comforter discarded on the floor beside her bed.
She put a hand to her chest, feeling the rapid beating of her heart. That was some dream!
“Micah!”
“I hear you! Jeez! I’m up.”
Micah jumped in the shower before Sabina could get a look at her. She knew one look would be enough for Sabina. She would know something was up and then be on her case, demanding details.
The cold water was a shock to her still feverish skin. Goose bumps puckered on her flesh as she forced herself to withstand the punishment for just a moment longer before turning the dial in the opposite direction.
She showered quickly and readied herself for the interview. She needed to focus if she had any hope of making it through this day. And she really needed this interview to go smoothly.
Donning the navy suit Hanna had let her borrow, she studied her reflection in the mirror. For some strange reason she expected to see it written on her face for the world to see that she had had another steamy dream about Josh last night. She was shocked when she didn’t see it staring back at her in the mirror. Though her cheeks were still a vibrant shade of pink. It looked good on her.
“My, my. Don’t you look nice.” Sabina gave her a once-over when she entered the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee.
“I try.”
“Did you have a rough night last night? Your alarm clock was going off for twenty minutes this morning. Drove me crazy.”
Heat filled her cheeks. “Sorry.”
Sabina’s eyes widened before a slow smile formed on her face. She looked like a cat who ate the canary. “You had another steamy dreamy!”
“Oh, my gosh. We are not talking about this.”
“Oh, yes, we are. Sit back down. I need details. Who was it about this time? Ooh, ooh! That tall drink of water that Hanna introduced you to!”
“No. And FYI, no one says tall drink of water anymore.”
Sabina waved a dismissive hand. “He was tall and hot. Who cares what you call him, just make sure you, you know, call him.”
Micah stirred some creamer into her coffee and took a tentative sip, not wanting to burn her tongue.
“So who was it? Did you meet someone else last night?”
“No. And I’m not telling you a thing. Last time I told you about a dream, you went and blabbed about it. Can’t trust you with anything.”
“Wow, that was harsh.”
“I’ve got to go. Can’t be late for the interview.”
“I’ll wear you down. You’ll break eventually. Mark my words.”
Micah ignored her and reached for her purse.
“Good luck, bestie!”
* * *
Her interview was a success. Of course, there was the standard waiting period before they would call and offer the job, but she was almost positive they would.
She felt as if she was floating as she walked out of the building and onto the busy streets of Boston. With her current cheery mood, going home sounded like the worst idea ever, so she made an impulsive decision.
It was scary going alone, but in spite of the fear and lack of best friend, she found herself in a parlor chair in the corner of a cramped tattoo shop. This was something she needed to do on her own, anyway. It symbolized the next phase in her life, and that required more independence.
The pristine navy suit she wore stuck out like a sore thumb in the little shop, and she was getting a few odd looks from the random patron or artist.
A man stood and called her name. It was time. She shucked the suit jacket and sat down in the chair, telling him exactly what she wanted.
The tattoo artist leaned heavily on her as he concentrated on getting the template in the right place. The room had a vague antiseptic scent mixed with cigarettes. The smell had a negative effect on her, causing her stomach to churn.
When he started tattooing the ink on her skin, she closed her eyes and focused on the music playing overhead and the hum of the machine next to her. She knew it would hurt, but she wanted this. Once she made up her mind, nothing was going to stop her, even if she had to do it alone. So she chose the small heart design and ignored the pain.
“We get a lot of requests for hearts,” the artist said as he concentrated