Chapter 16
Sixteen
NOELLE
T he following days are hard.
Bear stays with me, never leaving my side for anything. I have to promise I’m okay long enough to use the bathroom alone.
He's touching me at all times, in one way or another. A hand on my back, waist, or shoulder, or my thigh, or hip.
He's endlessly patient with me when I'm hit by waves of fear when I wake in the middle of the night with nightmares. The morning after our bath, he tells me my parents came by demanding to see me, but confessed he wouldn't let them in. I lost my phone at some point—in the alley, most likely. I use the landline my landlord insists on keeping on the wall near the side door, and I use that for the first time since moving into this place to call them. I reassure them that I'm okay, which isn't a total and complete lie, just mostly.
I just can't handle them right now. I can't handle anyone. My sisters come by as well, but Bear fends them off, much to their indignant frustration. My brothers must have gotten the memo somehow because they leave a giant gift basket on the porch, a wicker basket full of fresh fruit, bags of my favorite candy—sour gummy worms—bars of chocolate, candles, and, just because it's them and they're weird little jokesters, a bag of cannabis gummies.
At some point, Darius and Miguel bring my car over. The girls from the salon bring by cards and casserole dishes of pasta bakes and other easy-to-reheat meals. Kelly tells me in no uncertain terms that I'm not to come back to work until I'm ready for it. Raina, Ashlynn, Kyle, Thomas and Colin come by as well with bottles of wine and sandwiches from The Alt; I promise them that once I'm up for visitors, they'll be the first to know.
I just…I can't handle anyone except Bear.
After three days of hibernating at home, watching TV on the couch curled up on Bear's lap, I’m finally ready to take a walk around the neighborhood. It feels good to be outside under the sun and blue sky, even if I am a little jumpy.
On day five, just past noon, the doorbell rings. I stay on the couch, content to let Bear send whoever it is away—I've decided I'm going to give myself a week and then I'll start reconnecting with all the friends and family who've reached out to me.
Bear mutters quietly with whoever's there for a minute and then turns to me. "You, uh, you may want to see this person."
I frown. "Who is it?"
He comes over to crouch beside me. "A therapist who specializes in sexual trauma."
I blink. "Here? At my house?"
"A friend of Sheriff Mannix’s, I guess. She heard what happened. Says she wants to help." He searches my face. "Up to you. I can send her away, or I can let her in and give you two space."
I swallow hard. "What do you think I should do?"
He blinks at me, puzzled. "You're asking me?"
I nod.
"I think you should talk to her," he says.
"Okay," I say, sitting up higher. "Let her in. But…don't go far. Okay?"
He kisses the back of my hand. "I won’t. Promise."
He rises and opens the door. The therapist is a woman in her early forties, with wavy, beautiful brown hair and light brown eyes, dressed in jeans and black heels with a white blouse and black blazer.
Her smile is friendly and warm as she approaches. “No, please, don't get up," she says when I start to rise. She takes a seat on the other end of the couch from me. "I'm Britt Hofstetler," she says. "I'm a licensed and board-certified therapist and counselor. I specialize in trauma recovery, domestic abuse, and sexual assault.” She hands me a business card with her name, degrees, and certifications and the address and phone number of her practice here in the Three Rivers.
I manage a small smile. "Noelle Harper. Thank you for coming, Britt. I understand you're a friend of Sheriff Mannix’s?”
"Something like that, yes." She glances at Bear, who's hovering in the doorway to the kitchen. "I just thought maybe it would help to have a little talk with me. I can help you process things, and give you some tools and strategies for coping with what happened."
Bear shifts his weight. "Okay, Noelle?"
I nod. "Yeah, I'm good."
Panzer has been even more clingy and protective than Bear—he won't leave my side even in the bathroom. He settles on the floor by the couch near my feet, eyes watchfully assessing Britt.
Bear leaves, somewhat reluctantly, going out to the backyard; I hear the mower start up.
Britt looks at Panzer, then at me. "Quite the pair of guardians you have."
I smile. 'Yes, I know."
She echoes the smile. “Are they suffocating you?"
I laugh. “No, god no. I…" I sigh, the laughter fading. “I wouldn’t let Bear leave my side at all for the first few days. I’m a little better now."
"That's totally normal and understandable," she assures me. "It's good you have a loving and supportive boyfriend."
I realize he is my boyfriend only when she says that—we never talked about it or put labels on things. But I realize I like it.
"I really do." I reach down and scratch Panzer's ears. "Two of them."
Britt laughs, her gaze searching me as the laughter subsides to professionally assessing concern. "So, Noelle. How are you feeling about things?"
I sigh, considering. "I…I'm not sure. Mixed up, I guess. I'm having nightmares every night. I couldn't even leave the house until just the other day. I couldn’t handle seeing anyone but Bear—not my family, not my best friends, no one.” I swallow hard, a hot lump forming in my throat. "I…I feel sort of…guilty?” It comes out as a question.
Britt hands me the box of Kleenex from the coffee table. "Guilty about what?"
"I mean…" I try to swallow but can't. My words tumble out, hesitant and awkward and stilted. "I just—nothing—nothing happened. You know? Like…yeah, he hit me. Hurt me. Threatened me. He would've…he was going to—but he didn't."
"The more you avoid the words you fear most, the more power you give them, Noelle," Britt says, her voice low and smooth and comforting.
"Duane didn't rape me." A sob escapes. "And I…I feel like I shouldn't be so…so upset. Like, nothing happened. But I'm…I'm reacting like it did."
Britt toes off her shoes and tucks her feet under her thighs. "Noelle, something did happen. You were attacked . Your attacker may not have sexually penetrated you, but it was sexual assault all the same. He violated your autonomy. He took away your choices. He hurt you." Her eyes go to my throat, to the scabbed-over cut. "Will you tell me what happened?"
I recount the assault for her, hesitantly at first, and I have to pause a few times to catch my breath as sobs rip through me. I go through piles of Kleenex. When I start crying and shaking, Panzer sits up and burrows his head onto my lap, and I curl around him, rocking as I work through the event for Britt.
By the time I'm done, I do feel lighter.
Britt spends a few moments thinking when I'm done. "What you experienced, Noelle, was a horrific and traumatizing event. You absolutely should not feel as if you're not allowed to be traumatized by it just because it wasn’t fully rape. It was still sexual assault, full stop. No matter what you may be feeling, it's valid. The first thing you need to do is give yourself permission to feel whatever you feel."
I nod, sniffling, dabbing my nose as I scratch Panzer's ears. "I guess that makes sense."
She gestures at Panzer. "Use him. He's clearly very empathetic, and he obviously brings you comfort. Let him.” She smiles as the dog nuzzles my palm before settling onto my lap again. “I’m not a vet, obviously, but I think the experience was hard for him, too. Not being able to get to you? For a dog bred and trained to protect, he probably feels some canine version of guilt that he couldn’t get to you sooner."
Tears start again as I realize how right she is, and it makes sense of why he's been so clingy ever since. I curl over him, kissing his fuzzy forehead. "It wasn't your fault, buddy. You saved me, didn't you?" He whines in his throat. "Yes, you did. You're the best boy, Panzer."
Britt clears her throat, and I focus on her again. "Where are you with Bear?"
I frown. "What do you mean?"
"I mean in terms of your relationship. Events like this can have an impact on romantic relationships, especially newer ones."
"Oh.” I shrug. "He’s been amazing. He takes such good care of me."
"But you, Noelle—how are you feeling about things?"
I sigh, allowing myself to fully examine my feelings for the first time. "Conflicted, I guess. Or…maybe confused is a better word."
"How so?" she asks. "Why? Can you explain?"
I shrug. "I…well…" I shake my head. "It's a lot. And it's not all necessarily to do with the…with my assault." It's a little less hard to put the words to what happened now. “We, um…I don’t know how relevant this is, but we actually haven't…um…been intimate."
She frowns a little. "So it's really new, then."
I shrug and nod. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, no, not really. We've been together, sort of, for several months."
"But you haven’t had sex?"
I shake my head. "Not yet, no. We’ve done…other things a few times, but we haven’t had sex yet.”
"It is relevant, Noelle. Would you mind elaborating a little?" She has a yellow legal pad and a pen and has been taking notes while I talk. Now, she clicks the pen to retract the point and focuses on me.
"I'd have to go back and explain my previous relationship for it to make sense,” I say.
She nods. "That's okay. We have all the time you need."
I frown. "I thought these things were on an hourly basis? We've been talking for over an hour already. I'm sure you have other clients."
She smiles, shaking her head. "Well, for one, I'm not charging you. I provide counseling to trauma victims for free after the event because they need it. Not to make money off of them. I've blocked off the whole day, Noelle. I'm here for as long as you need me."
"God, really?” She just nods, and I sniffle. "That's amazing. Thank you so much."
She just smiles. "We all do what we can, don’t we? This is something I can do." She clicks the pen again. "So. Your last relationship."
I tell her about Brennan, our courtship, the expectations placed on us by our parents, and then on me by Brennan. Our marriage—how unhappy I was even if I didn’t realize it until after the fact. His infidelity, how I discovered it, and my reaction. Leaving him. Its effect on my faith, and on my sexuality, and on my belief and trust in love.
As it all pours out of me, guided and prompted and nudged along by probing, carefully crafted questions, I find myself admitting things I hadn't even realized myself:
That I had—or have—hangups about sex.
That I struggled with being able to trust myself, and anyone else.
I realize that while I trust Bear on pretty much every level, I've held a certain part of myself back from him. I know I love him, but I've still held back. I haven't told him how I feel. I need him—especially lately, after what happened. I can't imagine life without him, now.
But what Brennan did, along with the beliefs I had drilled into me as a child and teenager…all of that left with me a deeply rooted distrust in and resistance to allowing Bear all the way into my heart.
Which is why I’ve held back from being fully intimate with him, Britt explains. Because there was such a strict emphasis placed on sex, compounded by Brennan's betrayal, even though I am attracted to Bear and feel comfortable allowing us to do some things together, I've been holding back out of fear. And for me, sex and love are inextricably linked.
I sit in silence, stunned. "How did I not know any of this about myself?" I ask.
Britt flips her pen around her middle finger. "It's not uncommon. We don’t like to examine this kind of thing in ourselves. And when it's so deeply rooted in our childhood and adolescent years, it's even harder to see."
I nod, thinking. "So…what do I do?"
"About?" Britt asks.
"Bear. Our relationship." I swallow hard. "Sex."
She smiles gently. "Give yourself time. Talk to him. He’s waited this long, right? He hasn't pressured you?"
"No!" I say, a quick outburst of a word. "Not at all."
"Then I have a feeling, considering how supportive you say he's been throughout this whole experience, he’ll be understanding.” She pauses a moment. "Do you want to move forward with that aspect of your relationship? Do you want to have sex with him?"
There's no question. "Yes. God, yes."
"Then talk to him. Communication is key, Noelle." She pauses as Bear enters the kitchen through the side door, grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, and goes back outside. “Often, especially in men with…shall we say…well-developed instincts for protection, events like this can make them afraid to initiate sex, even if you may be ready—even if you tell him you are. He’ll be worried he’ll trigger you. And honestly, he may be right. You have to go slow, take things one step at a time, and give yourself grace if you try and find out you’re not ready. Be patient with yourself. Don’t set unrealistic expectations. It doesn’t seem like this is something you’ll have to worry about, but don’t let him place any expectations on you, either."
We talk about this a little more, and other things—picking apart how my upbringing may have colored my view of sex, and how I can move past that.
Eventually, after more than three hours, the conversation winds down.
“Well, Noelle, I feel like you've made a lot of very important progress today. Would you agree?" Britt asks.
I nod eagerly. "Oh yes, very much so. I can't thank you enough, Britt."
Her smile is bright and warm. "Absolutely—my pleasure. You have my card—please call me anytime. And understand that these things take time, Noelle. It won't be resolved in one conversation. I have room in my schedule—we can get you in for weekly or biweekly appointments. Okay?"
She stands up and gathers her things. She embraces me and takes her leave. Once she’s gone, Bear enters hesitantly.
"Hey," he says. "How'd that go? You guys talked awhile."
I go to him and wrap my arms around his middle. "It was so good, Bear. So good. I have to find a way to thank Sheriff Mannix for sending her to me." I put my chin on his chest and look up at him. "Thanks for giving me that time."
"Absolutely. Of course. Whatever you need. You know that." His lips brush my forehead. "Anything."
I let out a sigh. "We have some things I want to talk about, but not right now. I'm all talked out."
He frowns. "Okay."
I smooth the frown lines on his forehead. "Good things, honey. I promise."
"Oh," he breathes. "I'd understand if you need space or something."
"No!" I cry, squeezing his middle as hard as I can—hard enough that he grunts in surprise. "The opposite."
"Oh. Right. I just….I don't want to crowd you or…or get in the way if you need something to heal that I can't give." His voice is low, rumbly, deep, hesitant.
Emotions bubble up in me again, and I laugh through a half-sob. "God, Bear, stop. No. You're giving me everything I need." I rub his chest. "In fact, I…I actually sort of feel like I'm not giving you enough. That's what I want to talk about."
He touches my lips. "Don't. You're a gift, Noelle. Everything about you is a precious, priceless gift."
"But we haven't—" I search his face, his eyes. "I've made you wait so long, and—"
He silences me with a kiss, soft and chaste, but effective. " Stop , Noelle. Don't even think about that. I don't need that."
"But don't you want—"
"Of course I do." He cups my face. "More than I know how to say. But not until it’s right. If you’re not ready, then I don’t want it. If you can’t do anything at all for—whatever. Days, weeks, months. Years even, I don’t fucking care. You’re all that matters. Having you in my life. If you want to just kiss and nothing else, okay. If you want to do what we were doing before what happened, okay. If you need to back off and I just hold you, that’s okay too. I’m not impatient. I won’t be upset. I won’t be anything except here for you, for whatever you need and whatever you want."
"But you're a man, Bear. You have needs."
He just laughs. "I spent ten years in prison, surrounded by a few thousand other men. I can wait as long as you need. So don't even think about me, Noelle. All I care about—the only thing I give one single solitary fuck about is you. Your happiness. That's it."
Tears bubble out, and I sniffle a laugh around them. "I'm so sick of crying."
"So let's watch something funny," he suggests. “You pick."
I sigh, caressing his cheek. "You're the most amazing man I've ever known, Bear. Truly. I’m so, so thankful for you."
He just shakes his head. " I'm thankful for you . You changed my life. Believed in me. Your strength, your resilience, your wisdom. You amaze me. I could spend the rest of my life trying and never feel fully worthy of the woman that you are."
This only makes me cry harder. “God, Bear, stop making me cry, dammit!" I laugh, wiping at my face. “You are worthy. More than worthy.” I cover his mouth with my hand, silencing whatever he was about to say. “How about you put in a bag of popcorn while I find us a movie? I can’t deal with anything else heavy right now. I need you to hold me while we watch something dumb and funny and not think about anything."
"Sounds pretty perfect to me," he says. "Be right back."
We spend the rest of the day watching comedies, stuffing ourselves with junk food, and snuggling.
In the back of my mind, though, I'm working on the things I talked to Britt about. My past, my beliefs and hangups about sex…and what I want.
How to get there from here.
One step at a time. One day at a time.
The next day, my parents come over—at my invitation. We spend a couple of hours talking, and I reassure them that I'm okay, that I've spoken with a therapist and plan to continue to do so. Satisfied that I’m actually okay, they head home.
Nat and Nik show up the following day with a bottle of tequila and a copy of Practical Magic , a favorite movie of ours and one of the few points we have in common. Poor Bear is once again evicted, although this time I encourage him to spend it away from the house entirely—he hasn't left since that day.
Reluctantly, he does—he calls Riley, who shows up with Felix, Darius, Eddie, and Miguel, and they drag him away for some football game or something equally macho.
I let my sisters ply me with tequila while we watched the movie, get Mexican food delivered, and act ridiculous. They do not once bring up what happened, and it's exactly what I need.
I hug them after the movie—and a bonus feature of some made-for streaming rom-com Nikki chose. They leave, and I feel closer to them than I ever have; they knew exactly what I needed, which does leave me with questions that I decide to ask them at some point. I have an inkling of why, but they were a good bit older than me when whatever happened to them happened; I wasn’t informed of it, and they refused to talk about it.
Bear returns covered in dirt and mud from head to toe, bruised, limping, and grinning.
I eye him as he stands outside the side door. "What the heck happened to you?"
He toes off his sneakers. "Well, it started out as touch football. Felix, Riley, some of the guys from both crews, as well as Sheriff Mannix, a few other cops, and a handful of firefighters."
I arch an eyebrow. "It started as football and ended up…mudwrestling?"
He laughs, a big booming beautiful sound. "It ended up in a contest to see how many guys it took to take me down. They formed teams and took bets."
I laugh. "Only you. Geez. Who won?"
"Felix's team."
"How many did it take?"
"They did it with only six. They cheated though. Grayson tripped me."
I roll my eyes. "Only six, huh? And they had to cheat to win?"
He wipes his brow with his forearm, only succeeding in smearing mud even more. "Pretty much." He grins at me. "How about you?"
I wave a hand. "We had a great time. Nik and Nat got me buzzed and we watched a couple of movies. It was fun. I needed it." I put a hand on his chest, stopping him from coming inside. "You are not bringing those filthy clothes in this house, Bear Olafsson." I allow him past the threshold, pointing down into the basement. "Take them off down there."
I follow him down, butterflies in my stomach. His shirt is stiff and molded to him, and resists coming off, and I end up having to help him peel it off. For the first time in nearly two weeks, I feel a flutter of desire ripple through me at the welcome sight of his big, brawny, heavily muscled body.
He turns away from me, pushing his filthy sweatpants down around his hips.
I step in front of him, catching his hands. "Hey. Hold on, now. Where are you going?"
He rolls a shoulder, not quite looking at me. "I didn't want you to think I was expecting—"
"Bear," I interrupt. "I think this is a good time for what I need to talk to you about."
"Okay," he says, hesitant, cautious.
"I talked to Britt about a lot of stuff. Not just the attack." I move closer to him, running my hands over his scarred, muscular, beautiful chest and abs. "We talked about Brennan. How I was brought up. We talked about how I feel about sex."
He shifts side to side, uncomfortable. "I told you—"
"Yes, you did," I say, touching his lips. "But now I need you to listen to me, okay?"
"Yeah," he says. “Okay. I'm listening."
"Good. Like I said, we talked about sex, both in the context of the attack and outside of that context." I slide my hands down to his waist, gazing up at him in the dim gloom of the unlit basement. "It's nothing I haven't already told you, but what she helped me realize is that even before the attack, I was holding back. I was mentally framing it as taking time to get to know you and then wanting to take things slow."
"Which makes total sense with what you told me," he says.
I nod. "Yes, of course. And there's an element of truth to that, but it's deeper than that. Brennan didn't just break my trust in him; he broke my ability to trust anyone.” I touch the center of his chest. “I trust you more than I trust anyone. But what Britt helped me realize is that I was holding back because I was scared. And also pretty confused about who I am and what I want."
He gazes down at me thoughtfully. "I can see that. And now?"
"Well, obviously the attack changed things."
"How could it not?"
"Exactly," I say. "But…I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't want to hold back anymore. I refuse to be afraid anymore."
"It hasn't even been two weeks, Noelle," Bear says. "You can take—"
"I know," I interrupt. “I’m not saying let’s do it on the floor right here right now."
Bear looks around, frowning. “That wouldn’t be very much fun, I don't think."
I laugh. "No, definitely not." I rest my hands up on his shoulders. "What I am saying is that I want to…I want to try. Britt warned me that I might have to sort of…I don’t know, take my time, like don’t be surprised if I have a flashback or something."
Bear frowns even harder. "I don't want to do the wrong thing. Make things worse, or harder."
"She told me about that too—that you may have a hard time with it. What I’m telling you, Bear, is that I want to be with you." I hold his eyes, hoping he sees the truth in mine. "I want everything with you. I want to make love with you. I want to give you every last part of me. What I'm saying is that I will not let Brennan or Duane keep me from being with you. You'll probably have to keep being patient if things don't exactly get off to a great start—I admit I have no idea how I'll react. Right now, I feel fine." I let my hands trail down his chest, tracing his pecs and each of his abs. "I feel…I’m crazy attracted to you. I want to kiss you. I want you to touch me. I don't know how far I'll be able to go, but I want to try."
Bear reaches for me but stops short of touching me since his hands are covered in dried mud. "Then we take this at your pace. I'll follow your lead."
I nod. "Thank you." I lick my lips, looking up at him as the butterflies in my stomach do flips and loops. "And one day, hopefully very soon, I'm going to want you to take the lead."
"Me?"
I nod. "Yes, you. I mean, we'll need to see how I react first and take things one step at a time, but yeah. I want you to show me how you feel. Show me you want me."
"You may have to help me understand what that looks like. I've always tried to be very careful and respectful of you."
My heart melts a little. "And you absolutely have been, to a degree that honestly stuns me. It's part of how I…” I swallow hard, choking on the words; this isn't the time, place, or circumstances I'd imagined saying them to him, but I can't not. "How I fell in love with you."
Bear rocks backward on his heels, shock registering on his face, in his body language. "Noelle—"
I cover his mouth. "You don't have to say anything, Bear. I've known it's true for a while, I just…I was scared to admit it to myself, much less out loud to you. But I can't avoid the truth of it, and you deserve to know." He tries to speak again, but I shake my head and press harder on his mouth. "I don't want you to say it back right now, Bear. I want you to just take it in, and know that it's true. I'm in love with you. And if you feel the same way, find your own time to say it. Okay? Does that—-does it make any sense?"
"Yes,” he whispers, sounding shaken. "You….you love me?" Tears shine in his eyes, and my heart somehow manages to shatter, expand a thousandfold, and heal all at once.
My eyes sting, and my own tears fall. "Yes, Bear. So damn much it terrifies me."
He bends at the knees, and his hands scoop under my butt, lifting me. I latch my legs around his waist and cling to his neck. His face buries in my throat, and I feel his hot wet tears on my skin. His huge shoulders shake.
"Bear…" I whisper.
"Good tears," he growls, burrowing against me.
“Okay," I whisper, caressing his head and cradling his face against my chest. "Okay, honey. Let it out."
It's not a long cry, but it's an intense one. His shoulders shake raggedly, and he doesn't utter a sound. His hands grip my hips with bruising force—I let him bruise me and hold him all the tighter.
After a few minutes, he sighs, a deep gusting exhale. "Sorry—I'm sorry."
I pull away and grab his face, making him look at me—he tries to hide his wet cheeks, but I refuse to let him. "Hey, no, no, no. No hiding and no apologizing." I hunch lower to hold his wavering, uncertain gaze. "Thank you for giving that to me, Bear. It's beautiful. It means everything to me that you felt safe enough to let me have that."
He swallows hard, holding my butt with one hand while wiping at his face with the other. "I just…" a shake of his head.
I wipe at his eyes for him, and then kiss under his cheeks, tasting salt. "Tell me. Please."
He buries his head in my neck again, shuddering another huge sigh. “It's a lot."
“That's okay. I can handle it. I want to hear it."
"No one's ever told me that they love me," he says in a small whisper. "I never really expected to hear it. I mean, I know you care about me, but…love? Part of me just…I've always felt…" A ragged exhale between pursed lips. "Unlovable."
My heart breaks for him all over again, and my love for him rushes into the cracks, sweeps up the shards, and builds something new, something beautiful. Something magical.
"You're not unlovable, Bear Olafsson," I tell him, cupping his face and holding his gaze, thumbs brushing under his eyes. "You're so far from it. I love you." I touch my forehead to his. " I love you . Hear me?"
"I hear you," he murmurs.
I grab one of his hands and move it from my backside to my stomach, slide it up my chest and over my heart. "Feel that?" I press his hand against my heartbeat. "Feel my heart beating?"
He nods. "I feel it."
"It's beating for you. Only for you."
He closes his eyes, hot rough hand against my heartbeat. When his big gray-green eyes open and find mine, they're clear and strong.
"I don't need to wait. Don’t need to think. I don't need my own time—this is my time."
"Bear—" I whisper.
"I love you, Noelle."
My eyes burn all over again. "I really want to kiss you," I say, laughing through my tears. "But you're so dirty."
He growls, frustrated. "Of all the times to not be able to kiss you."
Everything inside me burns for him.
"Fuck it." I slam my mouth against his, tasting dirt and tears and love.
His tongue sweeps against mine, and the wet beautiful warmth of his mouth subsumes me, drowns me, and I moan.
"Take me upstairs," I whisper.
He carries me upstairs to my room—our room. I wriggle, and he sets me down. I step away from him, keeping hold of his hands.
"Go rinse off," I tell him. "Quickly."
"Noelle, I…"
"Trust me to know what I want, okay?" I grip his beard, pull him down for a kiss. "And what I want is you. Clean. And all for me."
His answering growl does its thing—makes my sex drool with desire, makes my stomach flip and my nipples go hard. "Noelle," he rumbles. "I want you so fucking bad." He tangles his fingers in my hair and kisses me. "Need you."
I break away and push him toward the bathroom. "Then get clean and come back to me."
He backs away, into the bathroom. "Won't be long."
"Better not be," I answer. "I need you too."
He shuts the door, and I hear the shower turn on.
I wash my face off in the hall bathroom and then decide to do this right.
I peel out of my clothes and get ready for Bear.