Micah’s POV
Down... my throat?
The graphic image flashed unbidden in my mind, sending a violent jolt of electricity straight to my core. I couldn’t even imagine wrapping my hand around something that massive, let alone taking it all the way down my throat. But as I stared up at Damon’s broad, shadow-drenched frame, my treacherous imagination took over.
In my mind, I saw him pushing me flat onto the leather couch, his heavy, tattooed thighs pinning my hips down. I could feel the fictional weight of his hands locking around my neck, guiding his thick, pulsing length past my lips, forcing me to choke and gasp for air while his dark, chaotic eyes watched me come undone. It was dirty, suffocating, and terrifyingly hot.
I snapped my eyes open, my chest heaving as a wave of intense guilt pierced my heart.
’What is wrong with me?’ I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Damon. My fantasies belonged to Noah. Only Noah.
Desperate for a distraction, my eyes darted back to the massive TV screen. The live feed was still playing, showing Noah blissfully trapped beneath that girl, his hands on her waist as she bounced against him. A fresh wave of bitter betrayal twisted my stomach into knots. I knew I had no right to feel this way. Noah and I weren’t together. He didn’t know about my pathetic, hidden crush, and he definitely didn’t do guys. But watching him give someone else the attention I starved for felt like a physical blow to my chest.
Damon’s fingers tightened on my jaw, forcibly ripping my gaze away from the screen and locking it onto his. He raised a dark, mocking brow. "What do you say, holy boy?"
"I believe you!" I yelled, aggressively slapping his hand away from my face. I rubbed my throbbing cheeks, glare intensifying. "Just get away from me."
"Great," Damon chuckled, completely unbothered by my outburst. He casually walked around the edge of the couch and planted his massive body right next to mine, crowding my personal space. "What else do you wish to know for your little column, reporter?"
"I..."
Before I could even get a word out, a loud, high-pitched moan echoed from the TV speakers, filling the room with the raw sounds of the party downstairs. The noise grated on my raw nerves. Damon glanced at the screen, a wicked, knowing grin spreading across his face as he turned back to look at my flushed face.
"Turn it off," I muttered, gripping my bag tightly.
"Why? It is good for the sound effects, don’t you think?" Damon teased, leaning in.
"I said turn it off, Damon."
"Oh, wait. Let me guess," Damon whispered, his voice dripping with pure malice. "You can’t get it up since it’s a girl on the screen. Tell me, Micah... what if it was your dear stepbrother Noah making those moaning sounds in the TV? Would that get you turned on?"
I completely froze, my eyes widening in sheer shock. I had lived with Noah for years, but I had never heard him make a sound like that. I had never heard him moan.
The mere thought of Noah’s deep, masculine voice breaking into a breathless, needy groan shattered my remaining defenses. My breath hitched, and a sudden, involuntary throb hit my jeans. I desperately shifted my position on the couch, trying with everything I had to hide the growing hardness in my pants, especially since a half-naked Damon was watching my every move.
"Alexa, turn off TV five," Damon commanded loudly, flexing his control over the room.
The screen instantly went black, plunging the room into relative quiet. I secretly rolled my eyes at his blatant display of showing off, but a small part of me was incredibly relieved. At least I didn’t have to keep watching Noah with another girl.
Trying to regain my professionalism, I unzipped my bag and pulled out my blank notepad. I stared down at the crisp white paper, my mind completely blank. My fingers trembled as I forced myself to press the pen to the page, scribbling the first line:
Article One: About Damon Silver’s Dick.
The moment I saw it written out, an intense wave of embarrassment hit me. I immediately lifted the pen to scratch it out, but Damon’s heavy hand suddenly clamped over my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.
"Go ahead," Damon whispered, his dark eyes burning into mine. "Leave it. You are only leaving this room when you are fully done writing."
I swallowed the lump in my throat, looking back down at the paper. With a shaking hand, I scribbled down two words right beneath the title: 8 inches.
Damon’s smile turned thoroughly satisfied. "Excellent. Now, let’s continue..."
Nearly an hour later, I was finally allowed to leave the massive estate. Damon escorted me down the same private, hidden side path to ensure no one from the main party saw me leaving his quarters. I kept my head down, entirely humiliated, while Damon walked beside me casually, wearing nothing but a sleek, dark silk night robe.
***
By the time my taxi dropped me off at home, the clock on the dashboard read a few minutes past midnight.
I unlocked the front door as quietly as possible, slipping into the dark house. But the moment I flipped the light switch, my heart violently jumped into my throat. Noah was standing right there in the center of the entrance hall.
I flinched, my entire body locking up. I wasn’t expecting him to be home at all. I thought he would still be wilding out at the assistant captain’s house, but then I remembered his promise from earlier—he said he would be back before midnight.
"Where were you, Micah?" Noah asked. His voice was terrifyingly calm, his blue eyes boring into me.
I opened my mouth to answer, but the vivid image of that girl bouncing on his lap downstairs suddenly flashed across my mind. A sudden, ugly spark of resentment flared up in my chest. I didn’t want to answer him. I didn’t want to give him anything.
"Out for a stroll," I lied through my teeth, my voice coming out colder than intended. "Why do you even care?"
There was no universe in which I could tell him I had just come from Damon Silver’s mansion.
"I thought you went somewhere without telling me," Noah said, his voice instantly softening as he took a slow step toward me. "You have no idea how worried I was about you."
I wanted to take a step back, but my spine immediately hit the cold wood of the front door. I was trapped. "You don’t have to be worried about me, Noah. I am not a kid anymore, and—"
"And why exactly did you go for a stroll with a massive bag, Micah?"
Noah’s voice suddenly dropped, shifting into a completely different tone. It wasn’t his usual soft, golden-retriever voice. It was deep, dark, and dangerously heavy.
A cold shiver ran down my spine, and I flinched. I couldn’t comprehend what I was feeling in that moment. Was it fear? No way. There was no way I could be scared of my own brother. Noah was the sweet, reliable son of the family. He was the good one. But the sheer intensity radiating off him made it impossible for me to even raise my head to meet his eyes.
"I... I brought my camera," I stammered, my heart hammering against my ribs as I looked at his chest. "Just in case I saw something on the street that required... a photo."
"Oh, I see..."
Just as quickly as it had vanished, Noah’s soft, gentle voice returned. I finally forced myself to look up, and I saw him offering me a warm, familiar smile. I let out a massive, shaky breath, my shoulders dropping in relief.
"You should head straight to bed, Micah. Make sure you say your prayers tonight," Noah said kindly, stepping aside to clear the path.
"Yes, brother," I murmured, rushing past him toward my bedroom. I didn’t dare look back at him.
As I shut my bedroom door, I leaned against it, thanking God that I hadn’t let slip where I actually was. If Noah found out I was at his worst enemy’s house, he would have been absolutely furious.
I let out a deep sigh and tossed my bag onto the mattress. As I started stripping out of my black clothes, a distinct, expensive scent hit my nose. Woodsmoke and expensive cologne. I smelled completely like Damon. Panic spiked in my chest all over again, and I prayed to whoever was listening that Noah hadn’t noticed the scent on me in the hallway.
I rushed into my private bathroom, thoroughly washing the scent off my skin until my flesh was raw. Once I was clean, I threw on some oversized clothes, grabbed my laptop, and sat at my desk.
It was time to write.
My fingers flew across the keyboard as the adrenaline took over. I poured every ounce of the humiliating, scandalous interview into the document, crafting a piece that I knew would absolutely blow up the entire university campus by morning.
By 3:00 AM, the article was flawless. I hovered my mouse over the sender line, typing in a highly scandalous, untraceable pen name to protect my identity before hitting send. The email flew straight into Raven’s inbox.
I stared at the glowing screen, a dark, anxious thrill twisting in my gut.
"I wonder how people are going to react to this tomorrow..." I muttered aloud into the empty room, my heavy eyes finally forcing themselves shut as I drifted into a restless sleep.