Page 21 of Lost in Love
“No. And you’re drunk,” I point out, noticing him stumbling around trying to gain balance as he’s taking his clothes off. He manages to get one shoe off, and then a sock. Just one. “I wasn’t watching porn.” I wave my hand around in the air. “It was an ad that popped up.”
He looks at me with intensity, but his smirk is playful. Eagerly, he yanks his shirt off and throws it haphazardly in the room. It catches the blades of the ceiling fan and hangs there. “I am notthatdrunk, and that kind of thing doesn’t just pop up unless you’ve beensearchingporn.”
Fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, I glance up and take in his swaying demeanor. “Really? You’re leaning against the wall for support.”
“Nope. It’s just more comfortable this way.”
“Fine. Stand up straight.”
He tries. Fails. Lands on the bed.
I laugh when he scurries eagerly between my legs with his head. Tucking his hands underneath me, he squeezes my ass cheeks and groans into my upper thigh. “God, that’s so hot that you were watching porn.” Licking his lips slowly, his eyes are hooded for the same reason I find myself panting beneath his stare. There it is. The spark. The connection I remember.
I twist my fingertips into his hair and then grip harder, and pull until he peeks up at me. “How do you know ads don’t just pop up unless you’ve been searching porn yourself?”
“I’m not saying I haven’t been.” His eyes fall to between my legs. “Take these off.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re so romantic.”
He tries to pull at my leggings but gets nowhere. Have you heard that saying, “You’re wearing that dress, girl?” It goes for leggings too because when you’re wearing Lululemon leggings, you’rewearingthem. All of you who have ever worn leggings, know what the fuck I’m talking about. Those babies aren’t coming off without some work. “I’d do it for you, but I can’t. Are these glued on?”
“They’re made with Lycra,” I point out while avoiding taking them off. I even go as far as to avoid eye contact because I’m still shocked he caught me checking out our neighbor in a porno.
“What?”
“Can you even get it up?” I tease, but clearly that’s not a problem when I look at the bulge between his legs.
Noah looks at me with the same flat expression he gave me when I told him, jokingly, we should have another baby last week. “Why are we talking and notfucking?”
“Again, so romantic.” I raise an eyebrow and then wink at him. “Maybe I want you to seduce me a little.”
“Guaranteed there was no seducing in the porno you weren’t watching, but whatever. I’ll fucking seduce you.”
Noah’s pretty good at playing the gentleman card. He can be the sweetest person I know and still make it sexy. What is he a master at?
Being the kind of guy women should steer clear of. And you know the one I’m talking about. Porn has nothing on him. The kind of guy where you look at him and know it’s not something he learned. It’s him. It’s exactly like what you’d imagine being seduced by a Hemsworth brother or hell, Jason Momoa, or even Charlie Hunnam. I’ll go with Charlie on this one because that’s the kind of ruggedness Noah bleeds with. He’s that Texan boy with southern charm with a sexy edge. It’s something he was born with. Dark irresistible eyes, sinful body, and a venomous kiss I die over and over again for. And if I’m rambling, I’ll give you some juicy details. Prepare yourself; it’s about to get hot in here. Wink wink.
With his hands still underneath me, his rough fingertips move over my waist, toward my hip bone where he peels back the leggings to reveal my bare skin to him. His eyes dart to mine, just briefly before he blinks slowly. Then they close just as his lips make contact with my skin. I jump, and then his tongue darts out, flattens and glides across my hip like he’s tasting me. When I’m least expecting it, his groan vibrates through me and his teeth sink gently into my skin. And then before I know what he’s doing, he yanks my leggings down and his tongue is between my lips and biting my clit.
“Don’t move or this will hurt,” he whispers, and it sounds like a hiss when I jump again, and his teeth sink together. It pinches, but feels so goddamn good I don’t tell him to stop. I don’t care that it hurts. I want it that bad.
Sliding his tongue between my folds, he takes a firm grip on my upper thighs with more intensity. I tense at first, then loosen up and spread my thighs for him. He’s watching my body and face with fascination, knowing damn well this is the way to get me off. Two of his fingers slide into me and then I’m moaning and praying he never stops.
Naturally, as with any parents, the sex doesn’t last long before we’re interrupted. Remember when I said our kids never stay in bed like they should? They don’t. Guess which one is panting under the door and barking.
If you guessed Sevi, you’d be right.
“Bad dog!” Noah yells, barely able to lift his lips from between my legs. Believe me, I don’t want him to either, but it’s hard to concentrate and get off when your kid is next to the door. For men, it’s easier. For women, we need concentration and everything to be in exactly the right place.
Sevi continues barking to the point we wonder if there’s something wrong with him, but neither of us wants to go look. “If we ignore him, he’ll stop.”
I flop my arms over my face. “I can’t concentrate with him barking. He’s going to wake up Fin.”
Noah huffs out an annoyed breath, leaning back on his heels. Running his hand through his hair, his eyes lift from his very obvious erection to mine. “Okay. I’ll put him back in bed and be right back.”
I blow out an annoyed breath. “Fine.”
With a groan, Noah pushes himself from the bed. Standing next to it, he slides his hand into his jeans and adjusts himself. It’s hot.
