Come Out Swinging (Reach for the Moon Book 2) by Sam Hall (sight word readers TXT) 📕

to know each other. I was hoping we’d have a bit of time here to do that, to go on dates or something.”

“I dunno if I’d be any good at that,” he said with a slight frown. “I’ve never really…courted anyone.”

“No, but you’ll spar and train for hours with me, right?” He nodded, looking almost relieved. “I’m willing to bet you’ve got some ideas for the gym?” Something flared brighter at that, his lips parting, but I charged on. “You might not know where to take me or what kind of flowers I’d like, but I’m fairly sure you’ve got an endless stream of ideas about what you’d like to do when you get me home.”

Bingo, I’d unwittingly hit pay dirt. His gaze heated up so intensely, I felt squirmy, an unruly throb setting up between my legs. His eyes studied every inch of my face before coming to settle on my mouth.

“They’ve all touched you before. Dec telling us about making out with you when you were a teen, Zack being your first, Mason having all that time with you growing up. Even Lorcan seems to have just strolled in and taken up place in your heart like he’s always been there. I want in, Paige, so fucking much. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. It’s not just fucking, though your arse in those goddamn yoga pants is starting to feel like divine punishment because it is so bloody biteable…”

“It’s also hanging out bare under this shirt,” I muttered, taking a belated look around to see if anyone could see us.

“Don’t tell me that,” he ground out, then let out a long sigh. “I know we can’t rush things, but fuck if I don’t watch the other blokes with you and want every damn thing they’ve got. I want to curl you in my arms and watch movies and feed you junk food—”

“What if we did some of that now?” I suggested, feeling bone-tired all of a sudden. It was too much today. Too much drama, too much emotion, too much everything. But oddly, in all of that, the feel of Micah against my body was comforting, grounding. He was right in that we were still getting to know each other, but on some level, we knew. This might be small and fragile, a manipulated, forced thing, but no less real. It needed nurturing, this little seed of a thing that was growing between us.

Which reminded me of another seed.

For a second, I saw Aidan, standing in front of the mirror, drawn face staring at his reflection, me sliding up under his boundaries and diving deep, deep inside him.

But right now, I was with Micah.

“Take me to bed. Hold me in your arms. Warm me with your body. Kiss my forehead and snuggle down under the covers with me. Sleep with me.”

“Fuck, that sounds like heaven,” he rasped.

“Just me and you.”

I pulled away and held out a hand, a small thrill zipping up my spine when he took it. Mason was gone by the time we walked back into the cottage, locking the doors behind us, so I walked us down the hall into one of the empty bedrooms. Micah watched me pull off the shirt, baring myself to him, just staring with a reverence I felt was wholly unwarranted. But perhaps he felt the same from me when he shucked his shorts. He was hard, but when he drew me into the bed, the rest of him was soft and warm. I rested my head on his arm, burrowing into his side, and my hand moved restively over his taut stomach, not entirely sure what to do. His hand covered mine, stopping it right over his belly button.

“I’m always gonna respond to you. You smell like sex and sugar.” I shivered as he nosed my mating mark. “I dunno about you, but I’m fucking trashed. Today feels like there isn’t one more thing that can be crammed into it.”

I craned my neck and kissed him with that kind of sweet, soft kiss lovers use to connect with the one they care about.

“I’ll let you save the cramming things into me for tomorrow,” I said, flopping backwards and closing my eyes finally to the sound of his chuckles.

Chapter 39

Someone was taking me up on my offer.

I sighed, and my breath felt like it took corporeal form as it was exhaled, curling in the air around me like smoke, stroking my skin. Or was that him? As if summoned by my thoughts, I felt it. Fingertips, callused slightly, rasping against my skin as they slid upwards. Not zeroing in on anything especially erogenous yet, but possessive, claiming. This is my body, mine to touch, my woman. I smiled because that pleased me.

But it faded as I felt a line drawn up my centre, over my stomach, dipping into my belly button, up and over each rib, between my breasts, my collarbone, and up my neck to push between my lips. They parted willingly, needing and wanting something of him inside me. My mouth closed around his fingertip, sucking on it, anointing it with my tongue.

“That’s it,” he said in a low hush. “Get it nice and wet for me.”

So I did, with no thought as to why. I was in that no man’s land between awake and asleep, my entire focus on him. The way his body pressed against mine, how hard and ready he was. The feel of his lips, the stubble prickling when he pulled his hand away, sliding that slick finger up my thigh and pressing his mouth against me. He’d started things relatively chastely, but evidently, that taste of me unlocked something in him. His lips forced themselves between mine, parting them and then pushing his tongue between them, while my hands went to his skull, burying my fingers in his hair, feeling that same damn need. There was something foreign and exotic about his taste, some ineffable thing that had my mouth opening wider,