“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm,” Micah agreed, allowing his heavy lids to close. “Makes me want to eat you,” he admitted after a yawn.

Micah was only vaguely aware of Damon taking a deep, shuddering breath. “You eat Christmas trees, do you?” he said after a moment, voice deceptively light, but Micah could hear something lurking under the surface, something almost… animalistic.

“No, I- I put popcorn strings, and, uh, candy canes on Christmas trees.” He paused. “I want to suck you like a candy cane,” he confessed brazenly. His mouth was running of its own accord at that point, his brain having shut down a while ago. “But you won’t let me.”

His ears must have still been working, though, because he heard Damon curse above him in what might have been Italian.

Micah grinned.

He spent his last few seconds before oblivion pulled him under wondering if the man’s cock tasted like peppermints.

CHAPTER FIVE

Micah’s brain was pounding against his skull like it wanted to escape – a consistent throb behind his eyes that made Micah want to curl up into a ball and never get out of bed ever again.

And why would he when the mattress he was on was so ridiculously comfortable, practically molding around him in an embrace he never wanted to escape? Not to mention the soft, silky sheets and what had to be the cushiest pillow in the world. It was probably filled with exotic bird feathers or something equally asinine.

Wait.

The bed in Micah’s apartment consisted of a too-hard twin mattress with a dip in the middle, plain cotton sheets he’d bought from Wal-Mart, and a somewhat lumpy pair of pillows that were several years old and had seen better days.

Micah’s eyes shot open, and he sprang up – immediately regretting the sudden movement when his brain protested by attempting to leak out of his eyeballs. Micah balled up his hands into fists and pressed them as hard as he could into his sockets – an attempt to ease the ache before he dared to reopen his eyes and take in his surroundings.

He had to squint because it was so bright.

The entire length of the wall across from the bed was made up of floor-to-ceiling windows, and the sun was shining cheerily, making it difficult for Micah to take in the view it offered of what he was pretty sure was the Hudson River and various skyscrapers of Manhattan.

He turned his attention to the room, instead, which was styled in shades of black and white, the only pop of color the crimson-colored sheets of the California king he was sat on. Micah spotted a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water on the nightstand nearest him and wasted no time shaking several pills out onto his hand.

He quickly inspected them to make sure they were, in fact, simple pain-relievers, before swallowing them down along with the water. Then he returned the bottle and empty glass to the nightstand, next to the diamond-studded lamp that probably cost more than Micah’s rent.