Micah’s POV
Damon was sitting right there in my bedroom. It was the absolute last place on earth I ever wanted to see him, and he was the last person I wanted catching me in such a shameless, vulnerable state. I pulled my hand completely out of my jeans, smoothing down the fabric in a frantic rush. I stepped backward, checking the handle to ensure the lock was firmly turned before I turned around to face him.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I hissed, keeping my voice as low as possible so it wouldn’t carry down the hall.
Damon did not even flinch or budge from my wooden desk chair. "I came to see you," he replied, his tone completely casual.
"How the hell did you even get inside my room?"
He lifted a lazy hand, pointing his index finger directly toward the glass window that was pushed wide open to the cool night air. I frowned, glaring at the open screen before snapping my eyes back to his bruised face.
"I would have come in through the front door," Damon continued, crossing his long legs. "But I know your father would never open the gates for anyone named Silver. Besides, does he always treat you like absolute shit? I used to think my own father was the worst person alive, but pastor Miller is even worse."
"Don’t talk about my father like that," I snapped, a defensive anger tightening my chest despite how awful my father had just been to me. I stepped toward the desk, pointing a finger back at the open window. "If you are done talking, just leave the same way you came in."
Damon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as his dark eyes flashed with dangerous amusement. "But I really want to watch you touch yourself, little reporter. Are you really that sex deprived?"
"Can you please just shut your mouth? Please!" I whispered harshly, almost screaming the words as a violent wave of heat rushed up my neck.
Damon actually fell silent for once. He simply sat there, his intense gaze tracking the way my chest rose and fell as I breathed hard from the sheer panic of the situation.
Suddenly, the loud rumble of an engine echoed from the driveway outside, followed by the sound of tires crunching against gravel as a car drove away. My father had finally left the house. I let out a long, heavy breath of relief, my shoulders sagging. Damon noticed the shift in my posture immediately. He stood up from the desk chair, closing the distance between us until he was standing directly in front of me.
"Do you want a break?" Damon asked softly.
I glared up at his taped nose. "From you? Fuck yes, I do."
"Nothing about you is ever going to send me away, Micah," Damon murmured, leaning down slightly so he could look me straight in the eye. "So tell me the truth. Do you want a break from all of this? From your father? From Noah?"
"No," I replied instantly, though my heart did a violent flip against my ribs at the mention of my brother’s name.
Damon smiled smoothly and took a step back, giving me some space. "Sure," he said. "I wouldn’t want to resort to kidnapping you by force... yet."
I watched him carefully, completely unable to comprehend what kind of twisted, chaotic person Damon truly was.
"I would still love to watch you touch yourself, though," Damon added, a wicked smirk returning to his lips. He reached down to pick up a plastic pen from my desk, casually sliding it into his pants pocket. I saw the theft but didn’t even bother trying to stop him, knowing that arguing over a stupid pen would only trap me in a longer conversation. "But forcing you to do it when you are in such a foul mood would just ruin my own enjoyment."
"I do not care enough about your mood to fix it," I muttered, crossing my arms.
"Hmmm," Damon nodded, completely unfazed by the rejection. "I guess I will just head out to the club then. Who knows, maybe another gold digger will manage to steal my silver watch tonight."
I tilted my head, my lips parting to fire back another sharp insult, but I froze instantly when a sudden, firm knock rattled the wooden door behind me.
It was definitely Noah. My stomach twisted into a violent knot. I glanced back at Damon, who was still standing calmly by the table, now sliding another small trinket from my desk into his pocket.
"Get out," I whispered frantically, my voice cracking with absolute terror.
Damon just shook his head, a mocking grin spreading across his face.
"Please," I begged, my heart hammering against my ribs as another loud knock sounded, followed by the distinct metallic click of the door handle moving up and down.
"Get out right now!" I growled under my breath, desperately trying to keep from shouting loud enough for Noah to hear through the wood.
Damon simply leaned his hip against the edge of the desk, raising his hand to tap his index finger against his lips.
"What?" I asked, thoroughly confused by the gesture.
"A proper goodbye kiss could convince me to leave," Damon said, his eyes darkening.
"There is no way in hell I am ever kissing you."
"Okay," Damon said, making a lazy circle with his fingers. He didn’t move an inch, leaning heavily against the desk with a stubborn, amused expression.
I let out a frustrated groan, my mind spinning into pure chaos. I knew Noah kept a spare key to every single room in the house, and it would only take him a few seconds to unlock the door and walk right in. I took two quick steps forward, bridging the gap between us. Because Damon was leaning low against the table, our faces were suddenly at the exact same height.
I bit my lower lip hard, a wave of deep bitterness washing over me. I had always imagined saving my very first kiss for Noah, not for this arrogant monster. But I didn’t have a choice. I leaned in quickly, planting a brief, one-second kiss straight onto Damon’s lips before pulling back immediately.
I stared at Damon’s face, my breathing shallow. "Is that enough for you?"
Damon suddenly lifted his hand, covering his own face as a strange, unreadable expression crossed his features. I blinked, wondering if he had somehow hated the gesture or if I had caught him off guard.
"What on earth am I going to do with you, Micah?" Damon muttered against his palm.
"Huh?" I asked, completely lost.
Before I could even begin to process the question, Damon’s heavy hand shot out. His fingers tangled tightly into the back of my hair, forcefully tilting my face back as our lips crashed together for a second time.