Eden Voss was alive. With a renewed sense of purpose, he made his way through the darkness of Tartarus, heading to the stairs that would take him back to the surface.
He hadn’t known it could be like that. That another human being could make him feel something so intense, something so personal. It had been more than just sex. It had been a connection, hot and electric and binding. His body had been alight with it. He couldn’t let it go.
The memory made him flush. He knew so little about Micah, but there was something there. Something more than initial attraction. He’d never met anyone–never experienced anyone–quite like Micah. The man was an enigma, a force. Eden wanted so badly to know more, to feel more, to find out everything about him until he was laid bare, completely exposed in every sense of the word.
He shook his head in the dim light of the underground, ashamed at his own levity. Such a fantasy was not possible. Especially not for Eden Voss.
A buzz in his pocket drew his attention. His comm. He reached inside the folds of fabric to withdraw the small silver device.
Where the hell are you? it asked. Blaise. Eden smirked, imagining his friend’s whining drawl through the text that appeared on his screen.
Heading back. Where the hell are you? he responded, fingers nimbly typing on the touchpad.
Already at the barracks. I couldn’t find you. But it was getting late. Didn’t want to piss Green off.
Eden chuckled. I got caught up. I’ll be back soon.
A pause before his screen lit up once more. Have fun, did you? I won’t wait up. Be careful.
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