“Get your fucking hands off him!”

-and punched in the face by the man he and Tessa had been ogling but five minutes earlier.

Micah watched, taken aback, as the Greek god lookalike pulled back his fist and pummeled the man again. And again. His assaulter fell back onto his ass after the third hit. He scrambled backward awkwardly, attempting to shield his bloody face from more attacks while simultaneously doing the crab walk.

Micah may have laughed if he weren’t so stunned.

As things stood, the guy shouldn’t have bothered hiding his face. His rescuer (unneeded though the assist may have been) had no problems targeting the man’s mid-section with his foot instead. The man let out a pained yelp when a kick connected sharply with his ribs.

“Micah,” Tessa hissed in his ear.

It was enough to break him out of the surprised stupor he’d fallen into.

“Stop him before we have to make two arrests.”

She had a good point. It would hardly be kosher to have to drag his knight in shining armor (more like shining Armani, but the point still stood) in for assault right after he’d saved Micah from the human garbage currently yodeling on the ground.

Micah lurched forward. “Stop!” he yelled, all but flinging himself at the man. “Stop! He’s not worth it,” he insisted, grabbing his rescuer by the arm.

The man startled at the contact, turning to face Micah. The scowl he was sporting did absolutely nothing to take away from his attractiveness.

A jawline that was both sharp enough to cut glass and yet covered in enough stubble that you knew it’d leave a pleasant burn behind when it rubbed up against your skin? Check.

Absolutely ridiculous cheekbones? Check.

The bluest pair of eyes Micah had ever seen peering down at him under thick, expressive eyebrows? Check.

Micah was honestly shocked he hadn’t spontaneously combusted the second the man had turned his head – he was that attractive.

For a long second, the man just stared at him. And then-

“What are you doing?” he asked gruffly, pointedly eyeing the hands Micah had wrapped around his bicep (and what a nice bicep it was) like they had personally offended him. “This guy was hurting you.”

Micah cleared his throat, horrified to realize saliva had begun forming in his mouth at some point while he’d been gawking at the Adonis before him. “Uh… stopping you from committing murder?”

It came out as more of a question than he’d intended.

“I’m not going to kill him,” the man replied, sounding offended. “I’m just making sure this is what springs to mind the next time he even considers touching someone against their will.” The man punctuated his point by delivering another swift kick to the man on the ground – this time to the meat of his thigh.

The guy howled, and Micah knew there’d be a baseball sized bruise there the next morning.

“That way, he’ll never be able to get his dick up again – that is, if I let him keep it.”