Micah Bell Novels & Stories

The camera captured Micah sitting on my lap, riding me, his pale soft ass in my hands as he bounced. "Blaze..." Micah's voice wavered on the recording, a high, frayed thread. "More... please... Blaze..." A hot, blushing pressure bloomed in my gut, making my jaw clench. I grunted, unbuckling my belt as I pushed my trousers down past my knees, baring my throbbing length to the cool air of the office. I palmed myself with a rough grip, eyes locked on the screen as Micah's head tilted back against my shoulder on the video.

“I sent him. I’m surprised he obeyed. I wanted you to know if he was saying the whole truth about Thomas asking him to spy on me.” “I ran his name through every channel we have access to,” he began. “No hits and no ties to Red Hand, no rogue affiliations. He has a clean history.” I raised a brow. “Too clean?” Reid nodded once. “Micah’s a nobody. Born to a minor family in a peripheral pack near Silver Hollow. Trained as a field courier. Just someone who slips in and out quietly, unnoticed.” “That sounds like exactly the kind of person Thomas would use.”