The Forever of Ella and Micha

to—”
    Warm fingers grip my side and reel me around, snatching the beer from my hand as my back presses against the fridge door. Micha stands only a sliver of space away from me, eyes fierce, lips tantalizing, his expression yearning with need.
    He leans in to kiss me, but my hand pushes at his chest, and his bare skin is warm as I hold him back. “No way. You didn’t win anything but a show.”
    Lowering my head, I duck under his arm, but he snags my wrist and pins it above my head kind of roughly. We’re drunk and neither of us is thinking rationally, but my interest in what’s coming renders me motionless.
    His pupils are so large only a ring of aqua is left. His breath is hot against my cheek as he takes my other arm and confines it above my head so my body is exposed to him. It seems like I should be nervous, but excitement bubbles through my very starved body.
    He inclines toward me and his chest brushes my tingling nipples. “Do you want me to stop?” His voice is husky.
    I shake my head with honesty. “No.”
    The thumb of his free hand travels down my side and along each rib before settling on my hipbone. Wetting his lips with his tongue, he moves his mouth toward my breast and my eyes close as he takes my nipple in his mouth.
    “Oh my God,” I moan as ecstasy shoots up between my legs and coils through my stomach as my back curves into him. “Micha…”
    He releases my arms, and before an objection departs my lips, his picks me up and smashes his lips into mine. I vice-grip my legs around his hips and my lips open willingly, allowing his tongue to enter my mouth for a heart-stopping kiss. Backing toward the sofa blindly, his hands feel all over my skin, leaving a trail of heat everywhere.
    “Not on the couch,” I murmur. “Lila and Ethan could be back at any moment.”
    He gives a glance at the front door and then turns us in the direction of the hallway. His fingers sneak up the bottom of my panties and cup my ass as he kicks his bedroom door open hard with his foot and the doorknob bangs into the wall. Without our lips parting, we fall onto the mattress with a bounce. Giggling, my fingers slide down his hard chest and to the button of his jeans, but he halts my hand with his.
    “Ella, maybe we shouldn’t,” he says, blinking dazedly through the alcohol.
    I manage to slip my other hand down the front of his jeans and his breath falters. “You don’t want me?” I ask.
    Sucking a sharp breath through his nose, his head slumps forward as I rub him and drive him crazy. “Trust me, that’s not it. I think we…”
    I hit the right spot and all his thoughts drift away. His lips pursue mine again and he kisses me freely as his hand slides down my stomach and to the edge of my panties. Hooking his finger into the top, he yanks them down my legs and when they reach my feet, I kick them off.
    Instead of his lips returning to my mouth, they endeavor to my stomach just above my belly button. Smoothing kisses down my skin, his warm tongue licks a path all the way down and my legs open up so his tongue can slip inside me and my mind becomes even foggier.

    When my eyes open, sunlight filters into the room and my head is pounding. A blanket is bunched up over me and my pores feel icky. Wiping the sweat from my cheek, I sit up and glance down at the signed Silverstein T-shirt covering my body.
    A smile breaks through as I spot a folded-up piece of paper on the pillow beside me and pick it up. Micha’s handwriting is scribbled across the lines in red ink.
    Hey beautiful,
    So that was quit the drunken night… never done one of those with you before. I think I might have a new song to add to our list.
    Anyway, don’t get all worked up. I stopped it before it got too far, in case you can’t remember. I didn’t want you to have to suffer through a drunken mistake. Trust me, I’m an expert at them and they’re not fun.
    I hate to bail on you, but I got to go to work. I’ll stop by your place later. And you can keep the shirt. It looks better on you anyway.
    Love you more than life itself, more than the sun and the air.
    You own my soul, Ella May.
    Micha
    Still smiling, I climb out of bed and slip my jeans on. Leave it to Micha to sign a letter like that. He’s always had such a poetic way with words and his beauty shines with each letter.
    Grabbing my shirt off the floor, I depart for the front door, folding up the note carefully and tucking it safely into the back pocket of my jeans. I feel