Caveman (Wild Men 1)

I don’t really know her now. I have no idea why she changed her ways, what is scaring her, and what she will do with me, but I’m in her hands.

Goddammit.

I shed my jacket and tear off my sweater and T-shirt. It’s cold in here. I need a hot shower. I stumble into the bathroom and turn on the water, then kick off my boots and pants, tug down my underwear and step under the spray.

My back is so tense it hurts. I press my fingers into the back of my neck, and it’s like pressing into stone. I let the water beat down on me, feeling the muscles uncoil little by little. I cough a little with the vapor rising around me, but it’s nowhere near as bad as it was a month ago. Damn sickness is hard to shake off, but I’ve beaten it.

I lean back against the tiled wall, and memories of Ev moving against me, around me, flood my mind. My dick hardens and I reach for it, hissing as I wrap my hand around it.

A sound breaks through the beating of blood in my ears and the shower. A ring?

A tune. My cell phone.

With a groan, I tug a few times on my cock, consider ignoring the call, then change my mind. What if it’s something important?

I grab a towel, wrap it around my waist and step out of the bathroom. The cell is still ringing when I dig it out of my jacket. A name flashes on the screen:

Ev.

Fuck. A thousand bad scenarios play out in my head. “Ev? You okay? Where are you?”

“Can’t get inside your building,” her sweet voice answers. “I rang the intercom many times, but I guess it’s broken?”

Shit. “I’ll let you in now. Come on up.”

I buzz her in and look around for my clothes. She’s fast, though, so by the time I grab my pants from the sofa where I dropped them, she’s standing at the door, clearing her throat.

She’s here. She came. Something painful in my chest relaxes. All my doubts seem foolish now that I see her in front of me, her cheeks flushed red, her golden eyes taking me in. They seem to glitter in the light of the lamp sitting on the coffee table, her pupils dilating.

“Hey,” I say, my voice inexplicably thick. “You came.”

She doesn’t allow any more stupid words to spill from my mouth. Rising on tiptoes, she kisses me, long and sweet until my cock is back to attention, rock hard and pushing against her soft body. Her small hands ghost up my ribs, then settle on my hips, pushing the towel off. It falls, pooling at my feet, freeing my erection so that it juts right up.

She breaks the kiss and takes a step back, panting hard. Her gaze slides down, focusing on my weeping cock, and it twitches in response. I lift my hands to her arms, then work on the zipper of her jacket. Too many clothes. Too many barriers. I need her, skin to skin, flesh to flesh, to believe she’s really come back.

I tear the clothes off her in my hurry, and she yelps when the button of her jeans breaks off and rolls to the floor with a clink.

“Sorry,” I force through my gritted teeth. “Dammit.” My hands are fucking shaking.

“Micah.” She reaches up and cups my face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fuck yeah.” Never been better. I’m just… What? Nervous? Scared out of my fucking mind because I want her so much? “Didn’t think you were coming.”

“Why not?”

I don’t answer, frowning and popping more buttons, finally managing to drag her jeans down.

“I’m here,” she says, and I look up at her face. Not sure of what I see in her gaze, I focus again on getting her naked. This is more familiar territory, and fuck, my cock is close to bursting. I concentrate on that, the burning need in my body, and try to ignore the mess in my head.

She steps out of her jeans, and I blink. I never gave her underwear much notice before—I was more interested in peeling it off her—but this is… interesting. Oh hell yeah, very interesting. My dick takes notice, too, jumping against my stomach.

She’s wearing matching black lace bra and panties. The lace is fine and half-transparent, velvety against her pale gold skin. The cups lift her breasts and only half-cover her nipples. Her brown, hard nipples, which are stiffening more as I stare at them, transfixed.

The blood burns in my veins, and I have to lick my dry lips. My mouth is like a desert. In a trance, I lift my hand to touch the hard nub, and her head falls back, baring the column of her neck.

Fucking hell. I bend over her and kiss her under the ear, sucking on her sweet and salty skin as my hands trails over her breasts, finding and tugging on her nipples. She moans and presses her body to mine. My dick twitches again, swelling, seeking her.

Not yet. I need to feel her under my touch. I tear my hands off her breasts and trace patterns on her flat stomach, then circle her narrow waist and slide them down to her ass.