Micah was dying inside. His whole body trembled, though he tried to stay still, to pretend he was holding to the small dignity he had left. He had stopped struggling, knowing full well it was pointless. The man's grip was like iron, locking him in place as though he were a prisoner caught in some unshakable trap.
His chest rose and fell faster and faster, his heart refusing to calm down.
He had thrown away the thought of pulling away with force. So he softened his voice. "Hey… I am hot.. Let me go, will you?"
Clyde's lips quirked upward, a faint smile flickering across his face. His voice was calm and teasing. "Why are you embarrassed? It's normal. I am older, I can show you how…"
"Shut up!" Micah snapped. "If you had let me go earlier, we wouldn't even be having this stupid conversation right now."
