I pull back, flip her over onto her hands and knees, and with both of my hands on her hips, I push back in.
“Oh god!” She drops down to her elbows, her back arching and hips bucking back, meeting me with every relentless drive forward.
“Who’s making you shake right now?” I grind out.
“You are.”
“Say my name.”
“You are, Noah.”
“Louder, Savannah.” Sweat trickles down my neck as I drive into her. “No one is here, but I want everyone to know who makes you shake like this.” My balls tighten and I thrust harder. “Who makes you scream like this?” I reach around her, finding her swollen clit immediately. “Who makes you come like this?”
Her walls squeeze me, swallowing me in her warmth, and my blood roars in response.
“Fuck, Noah!”
Once again, hearing my name fall from her mouth is my undoing. Fire pools in my lower core and my stomach flexes as my orgasm rips through me. I dig my fingers into her hips, holding her to me as everything splinters around me. My cock pulses inside of her, and I can feel the condom filling up. Fuck, I’ve never wanted to see my come spilling out of anyone until this moment.
24
savannah
Soft,rosy morning sunlight trickles through the shutters above the bed. My pink sweater is folded to perfection on the chair in the corner, while a handful of Lions hockey sweats lie in disarray around it.
Memories of last night hit me like a freight train, causing me to close my eyes while something flips in my stomach. My nipples harden as if Noah’s fingers are trailing down my body again. My core thrums at the reminder of the weight of him between my legs. Heat ripples down my neck at the memory of the way his mouth claimed me. His lips and tongue left me branded, and for the life of me, I can’t bring myself to dislike it.
The weight of Noah’s arm draped across my body holds me in place, keeping me still, almost as if his subconscious knows I’m the type to leave in the morning. It’s as if he knows I have an aversion to being so close to people, both physically and metaphorically. But to my surprise, when I look down at the tan forearm and dance my fingers over the light dusting of dark hair there, I don’t fight it. Instead, I cover his hand with my own and snuggle into his chest a littlemore. Even though I hate admitting it to myself, I like the way it feels.
That’s my cue.
The second the thought forms, so does my wake-up call. I’m not supposed to like this. I can’t. Not to the degree that I do. Note to self: oneanythingwith Noah will in fact change things between us.
I need to get up. I need to go home, get some coffee, and find something to distract me from all thoughts of Noah. Maybe internship interview questions. Or perhaps Chloe has a problem that I can help her solve. I could learn to cook! That’s been on my to-do list for ten years. Anything to avoid dealing with whatever insane thoughts—nay, feelings—I’m having right now about the man behind me.
The man now… nuzzling his face in the back of my head?
“Are you smelling me?”
“I can’t help it.” He inhales deeply. “You smell so good.”
Oh my god.His daytime voice is hot. His sleepy over-the-phone nighttime voice drips like honey. But his morning voice? His morning voice should be illegal.
“I smell like you,” I say, rolling over while still locked between his arms.
“Mmm, not the root of your hair though.” He drags his nose along my forehead and my eyes involuntarily close. I allow myself to justfeelhim. His lips press gently to the crown of my head, and I open my eyes when I feel him pull back enough to look at me.
“So, Savannah Alvarez.” He holds his invisible microphone between us. “How would you say your date with Noah Kingston went? Will you be telling him to fuck off, or will you be agreeing to another one?”
“Do you bring that microphone with you everywhere?” I ask, looking down at his giant bear-like paw between us.
“Uh-oh. Avoiding the question. That’s not good.”
My chest shakes with laughter, and I slide my handsunder my cheek. The backs of Noah’s fingers trail over my naked shoulder, the touch sparking beneath my skin and traveling across my chest, making it difficult to think. This is exactly why interviews with him are so difficult, because the truth is I would choose Noah and that date a thousand and one times over again, but my reality is different. I didn’t wake up this morning as a different person, and I know that even if I say yes to another date, it would always be in the back of my mind that I’m making a mistake. Maybe not tomorrow or next week, but eventually he would find a way to hurt me—and what does that make me if I knew all of that would be preventable?
“Look,” I start.
“I should have done the fancy restaurant thing.” He sighs, dragging his fingers through his hair as he falls onto his back.
