Micah’s POV
I stood in my bedroom, completely distracted as I folded my laundry. My mind was entirely consumed by what had happened between me and Damon in that locker room stall. Every time his stupidly handsome, arrogant face flashed in my memory, a confusing wave of heat rushed through me. Part of me was furious, but another part of me secretly wished I could just forget the blackmail and focus on how intense it felt to be caged in by him.
I shook my head violently to clear my thoughts and grabbed a pair of dark blue boxers from the basket. As I started to fold them, I realized they were way too wide for my waist. Besides, I was not a fan of blue at all.
These belonged to Noah. I had accidentally grabbed my stepbrother’s underwear from the shared laundry pile.
Without thinking twice, I lifted the fabric and pressed it directly against my nose. I took a deep, desperate breath, inhaling the sharp scent of clean detergent mixed with the distinct, intoxicating masculine scent of Noah’s skin. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as a heavy shudder ran down my spine. I kept inhaling deeply, clutching the fabric tightly as a soft, involuntary moan escaped my lips.
A sudden, sharp knock on my bedroom door shattered the silence.
I flinched, instantly dropping the boxers onto the bed like they had burned me. My heart hammered against my ribs as I rushed over to open the door. When I pulled it back, my breath completely caught in my throat. Noah was standing in the hallway with nothing but a white towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist. His skin was dripping wet from the shower, and water droplets glistened against his chiseled chest and perfectly defined abdominal muscles. He looked breathtakingly hot, and the sheer sight of him made my stomach twist with hunger.
I forced myself to look away from his bare chest, focusing entirely on his face. We were rarely this close at home, and while I always wanted to stare at his body, I had to keep my composure. It made me incredibly angry all over again that I was being forced to interview Damon instead of writing about my own stepbrother.
"Micah?" Noah called out, his deep voice snapping me out of my trance.
"Huh?" I blinked, feeling my cheeks grow warm. "Yeah?"
"Sorry to disturb you," Noah said, offering a small, apologetic smile. "Do you know where my blue boxers are? I couldn’t find them in my own laundry pile."
My mouth opened, but no words came out for a second. I forced myself to shake my head, keeping my voice steady. "No, I haven’t seen them."
Noah sighed, sliding his damp fingers through his messy blonde hair to push it back. "Damn. I really wanted to wear them to the opening party tonight."
I raised a brow, the sudden mention of an event catching me off guard. "An opening party?"
Noah smirked, stepping a bit closer and reaching out to playfully ruffle my hair. "Yeah, it is a massive party thrown at the assistant captain’s house. As the team captain, I am expected to show up. You know I can’t exactly throw a rager here because of father."
I let out a soft laugh, leaning slightly into his touch before he pulled his hand away.
"Just stay at home tonight, okay? I will be back before midnight," Noah said softly.
"Sure," I replied, watching him turn and enter his own bedroom directly across the hall.
The moment his door shut, I closed mine and sank straight onto the floor, my back sliding against the wood. My heart was racing. I could not believe I had just lied straight to his face about his underwear, but as I glanced back at the bed, I did not regret it for a single second.
Before I could think of what else to do with the boxers, a loud ding echoed from my pocket. My phone vibrated against my thigh.
I pulled it out and saw a notification from an unknown number. I opened the message and found a physical address. I did not need anyone to tell me who it belonged to. It was Damon.
A second later, another text popped up on the screen: ’Don’t be late, Micah.’
I frowned deeply, a sudden chill running through me. Damon already knew my name. I closed the messaging app and shut my eyes, trying to process the intense dread pooling in my chest. I needed to get this erotic article about Damon over with as fast as possible so I could finally get rid of his blackmail and focus on Noah.
If I wanted to move on to my stepbrother, I had to deal with the rival first.
I quickly finished folding my clothes, threw on a simple black outfit, and grabbed my bag. I packed my camera, the confidential player file from Raven, and a notepad. Just looking at the estate name in the address told me that the location screamed pure luxury.
Two hours later, my taxi pulled over in front of a massive, buzzing mansion inside a gated community. The sound of muffled bass and music thrummed through the air. I paused, checking the screen to make sure I was in the right place. I asked the driver for confirmation, and the man just grunted, telling me to pay up.
I handed over the money and got out of the car. As I walked toward the main entrance, two large security guards dressed in black suits stepped forward, completely blocking my path.
"What is the entrance code?" the first guard asked coldly.
I blinked, feeling completely confused. "I don’t have a code." I quickly unlocked my phone and held up the screen, showing them the direct text message I had received from Damon.
The first guard glanced at the screen and gave a sharp nod to the second man. Their cold expressions instantly vanished, replaced by an aggressive amount of respect.
"Come this way, sir," the second guard said, gesturing for me to follow him.
He bypassed the crowded main entrance and led me through a private side door. We walked up a grand flight of stairs, moving away from the noise of the crowd, until he opened the door to a quiet, luxurious private lounge.
"I will inform the young master that you have arrived," the guard said, bowing slightly before closing the door and leaving me alone.
A sudden wave of regret hit me, and I instantly wished I could just turn around and run away. But I was trapped. I squeezed the strap of my bag tighter, sitting down on the edge of a sleek leather couch and placing the bag right next to me. I had everything ready for a professional interview. An interview should only take about five minutes, right? I told myself I would be out of here in no time, ensuring I would make it back home long before midnight so Noah would never find out I left.
While I was busy calculating the exact minutes it would take to escape, the massive television screen mounted on the wall suddenly flashed to life.
I looked up, my eyes widening as a live video feed filled the screen. It was a broadcasting camera from the party downstairs. Damon’s face suddenly filled the frame, a wicked, knowing smirk on his lips as he looked directly into the camera lens.
"Look at this, babe," Damon’s voice echoed through the room’s speakers.
He slowly turned the camera toward the center of the VIP lounge downstairs. My breath completely left my body, and my vision blurred with sudden shock. Noah was sitting on a large couch, and a gorgeous girl was sitting directly on his lap. Her hands were wrapped around his neck, and she was actively bouncing her hips against his groin, groaning softly as a crowd of hockey players surrounded them, chanting loudly, "Captain! Captain! Captain!"
I watched the screen without blinking, feeling a physical ache tear through my chest. My heart completely shattered into a million pieces. The crushing weight of betrayal made it hard to breathe. I vividly remembered Noah telling me he was going to a party at the assistant captain’s house, and now the truth hit me like a train.
Damon was the assistant captain. He had set this entire thing up.
I tightly shut my eyes, fighting with everything I had to stop the hot tears from rolling down my cheeks. The pain was completely agonizing.
I snatched my bag off the couch and stormed toward the door, desperate to escape the suffocating room. But before my hand could touch the handle, the door swung wide open. A half-drunk Damon stepped into the room, his black button-down shirt completely open, exposing his broad, heavily tattooed chest.
"Leaving already?" Damon asked, his voice thick with amusement as he looked at my red eyes.
"Get the fuck out of my way!" I yelled, my voice cracking with pure emotion.
"Why are you being so mean to me, Micah?" Damon chuckled, stepping into my space and forcing me to back up. "I only showed you the true colors of that beloved stepbrother you claim to admire so much."
"You did this on purpose," I spat, glaring at him through my tears.
"Of course I did," Damon admitted instantly, his dark eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. "How else was I supposed to get you to finally focus all of your attention on me?"
I shook my head, disgusted by his games, and tried to push past his large frame. But Damon reached back, slamming the heavy wooden door shut with a loud click, locking us both inside the room.
"You came here for an interview, holy boy. Let’s finally get to it," he said, his voice dropping to a low purr.
"I am not doing it anymore," I said, my voice trembling as I continued to step backward, trying to avoid looking at the television screen that was still playing the live feed behind him.
"Oh, really? Do you want me to strip for you first?" Damon asked, a wicked smile spreading across his face as he began to slide the fabric of his shirt off his shoulders.
"Did you hear what I just said? I said I am not fucking doing it!" I yelled, my voice echoing off the walls as I retreated farther into the room, until the back of my legs abruptly hit the edge of the couch behind me.
I lost my balance for a split second, stumbling backward and falling right onto the soft leather cushions. I looked up, completely terrified as Damon hovered over me, his shirt completely gone now, exposing his muscular, inked torso.
"So, what is the first topic for your column? Ah, we were going to talk about my dick, right?" Damon mocked, caging me in between his arms as he leaned down over the couch.
"What?" I gasped, my mind spinning as I stared at his exposed skin.
"It is about eight inches, maybe nine," Damon whispered, his face inches from mine. "I am still a growing man, after all."
"Eight inches is completely impossible," I frowned, the sheer shock of his words making me reply before I could stop myself. I did not know why I was even engaging in this insane, highly inappropriate conversation, but before I could pull away, Damon’s hand shot out.
His thick, tattooed fingers gripped my cheeks tightly, squeezing my face until my lips were forced into a tight, helpless pout. He leaned down until his hot breath brushed against my mouth, his dark eyes locking onto mine with absolute dominance.
"Would you believe me if I shove it down your throat?"