26
Jett
Sometimes, sinking into a mountain of pillows with a weighted blanket on my lap, the Hamilton soundtrack playing softly, and a big fluffball of a dog curled into my side is exactly what I need to be productive. I’m in the zone, flying through edits on the sweetest client’s first manuscript. It’s all going so well, until a gentle hand lands on my shoulder and squeezes.
“What the hell, Noah? I was in the middle of something.” I slam my laptop closed, my heart pounding in my ears. With my hyperfocus broken, I feel discombobulated. Like I was in an entirely different plane of existence and have been doused in ice-cold water.
As I jump to my feet, intent on storming off to—I don’t know, somewhere—Noah grasps my fingers, spinning me into his chest and wrapping his arms snuggly around me.
Completely.
One arm is tightly holding the entirety of my waist while the other travels from hip to head, grazing his fingertips with just enough pressure. His lips rest at the crown of my head. I fight a little to get out of his hold, but he holds tighter.
“Breathe, gorgeous.” His thumbs begin moving in tandem, taking gentle swipes along the skin that they can reach. One on my hip bone and the other on the base of my neck. “I didn’t mean to break your focus, sweet girl.”
I slowly relax against his chest, letting his body heat envelope me as my heart rate returns to normal. Turning my head, I rest my ear over his heart, letting the slow and steady rhythm soothe my own hummingbird heartbeat.
We stand in silence until my body sags against his completely.
“Sorry,” I mumble into his shirt, the embarrassment of snapping at him for no logical reason hanging over me. My cheeks burn with it.
Noah slides his arm from my waist, bringing his hand up to gently grasp my chin between his fingers, effectively forcing my eyes up to his.
“What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” he asks softly.
I test his grip by trying to turn my gaze away again, but he holds firm. Not hurting, but steady. A rock in the midst of my storm.
“I was trying to finish up some edits for this indie author’s debut novel. I promised her that she’d have it back by tomorrow, but I keep getting distracted. I was finally in the groove. And we are creeping up on opening day for my dream store. It’s literally less than three weeks away.” Rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands all while he still cradles my face, waiting patiently, I sigh again. “I lost track of time, I guess. And then you were suddenly just standing there, and it scared me.”
Never have I ever had someone maintain this much eye contact when discussing something so minor. Not until Noah.
And when he grins? Holy fireballs, this guy.
As his lips meet mine, I am thankful his other arm is still holding me. This man.
Pulling away, he says, “Skin’s a little flushed there, gorgeous. Feeling alright?” That grin still presses on his lips, a knowing glint in his eyes.
“No fair,” I mumble, tucking my chin to my chest to avoid his gaze.
He walks me backward oh so slowly, until my back touches the wall. “Isn’t it, though?” His fingers skim my skin, traveling from hip to breast to collarbone to neck. Calloused fingers grazing the column of my neck as he leans even closer.
“How?” I murmur, not really caring about the answer so long as he keeps doing what he’s doing. As he steps closer, closing the space between our hips, I can feel how glad he is to be there.
“Because just looking at you, all nerdy innocence, has me wanting to touch. To taste. To claim.”
I can’t help myself; I rock into him just enough as his lips run a path along the shell of my ear. I whimper, need heating my body.
“Tell me what you need, Jett.”
I want to tell him that I need him. That I want him to sink into me, make me forget everything that’s gone wrong over the last few months. The last few years.
But what if that isn’t what he is eluding to? What if I am reading all of this wrong? What if he doesn’t like what I suggest?
What if, what if, what if?
My thoughts whirl together, none of them leaving my mouth, as if words are too difficult to form.
Increased pressure on the column of my neck short-circuits my thoughts as breathing becoming slightly more difficult. Suddenly, all thoughts stop.
Except one.
That dang whimper escapes again, and I can feel the grin against my skin before he pulls away slightly.
“Say that thought out loud for me, chaos. I can see it in your eyes,” Noah says, his nose nearly grazing my own but not quite touching.
With hooded eyes and a shuddered breath, I whimper. “Need you.” I roll my hips into his again, begging.
“Stay with me, chaos. The second I realize you’re drifting, everything stops, yeah?”
A hum in my throat is my only acknowledgment as I search for contact. As pressure remains on my neck, his other hand slides down to my waist, finding and undoing the knot in the string of my sweatpants before slipping his hand inside, just avoiding the part of me that wants him most.
“Noah, please.”
My hands reach for his waistband, but he stops me, removing his hands from me entirely. Crying at the loss of contact seems extreme, but my body is so tightly wound I don’t know how to react.
“I’ve got you, baby.” His arms reach down, hooking under my plaid-covered ass and lifting. “Just moving us somewhere more comfortable.”
He carries me to the bedroom, tossing me onto the comforter like I’m nothing more than a rag doll. His thinner frame is misleading—the man is loaded in lean muscle. “Slide back and slip off those pants for me.”
“Can you hit the lights?”
“I can, but I would rather you trust me enough to leave them on.”
“It’s just that—”
“Remember what happens if your mind starts to drift.”
I snap my mouth closed.
“Do you trust me?”
Nodding, I chew on my lower lip. Unsure of how to act or what to say. Noah and I have discussed it before, but we have never played to his dominant side, because I have not been willing to trust him in the bedroom.
Make-out sessions and heavy petting? Sure.
Naked snuggles at bedtime? Absolutely.
But we have not gone this far. Hell, I wasn’t sure I wanted to until a few days ago. I’d started to think that I would never crave this type of intimacy. Wondered if that part of me was irreparably damaged.
But baring myself under the LED lights for our first time? As someone who will not wear a bathing suit without a shirt over it… What if he regrets…damn it…
At some point, my eyes slip closed. I keep them squeezed tight as the bed dips, Noah’s body caging me in from above.
“Keep your eyes closed, pretty girl. If you want me to stop at any point, just say so. Got me?”
My head gives a jerky nod, but I already know he wants verbal consent.
“Jett.”
“Got you.”
“Every part of you is perfection.”Emotion threatens to choke me at his words, his touch. What did I do to deserve a man as perfect as him?
***
The sheets are rumpled and tucked around our naked bodies, our legs intertwined, my torso and head snuggled close to his chest. Those wide shoulders provide a sort of cocoon when his arms are wrapped around me.
Earlier today, Noah had come over with lunch, since it’s a Sunday. He had wanted to watch a replay of the Voltage–Badgers playoff game from the day before. I’d already watched the game but love rewatching, so I’d recorded it. After we’d finished the recording, Noah said something about a shower and dinner, but I’d tuned it out as I was trying to finalize those edits. I’d forgotten he was even in the apartment until he’d startled me.
Noah’s calloused hand traces lazy circles along my bare arm. “What’s got you so tense, pretty girl?”
“I forgot you were here earlier,” I whisper, still struggling to believe it. “I don’t know that it was so much forgot as it was just not being on edge with someone in my space. Normally, I’m tense and wanting my weighted blankets until everyone is out of my hair. But I wasn’t. I mean, I was under my blanket, but that was just because it was cozy.”
His arms squeeze a little tighter in a hug before easing back up. “So, why’d you tense up when you realized that?” he asks.
“Because I wasn’t expecting to get swallowed in emotional realizations shortly after sex.”
His quiet laugh rumbles through his chest, his breath tickling my ear.
“Why are you laughing at me?”
“I’m not, I promise. You’re adorable. All of you.” He sighs as I tense up again, my back becoming rigid under his dutiful fingertips. “Help me out here, gorgeous.”
“I feel like you’re making fun of me.”
“Never. You are perfect,” he whispers into my ear with a kiss. “This. Whatever we are doing. Whatever you want us to be or not be. You need to communicate with me. Tell me what you want or what you don’t like, yeah?”
“I’ve never been comfortable asking for what I want.”
“Then you’ve been with the wrong kind of man. Tell me what you want. Always. If you don’t like something. If you want me to do something else or try something different. I never want you to be afraid of me judging you for what you want. Everything you think, say, feel—it all matters. Remember that, yeah?” He runs his fingers through my hair, gently massaging my scalp as he goes, and I snuggle deeper into his side.
“Even if it’s stupid?” I ask, feeling vulnerable.
“Have I ever made you feel that way, chaos?”
I shake my head. “I constantly feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop with you. Like you’re too good to be true. You’re like this giant, lovable teddy bear disguised as a grizzly around everyone else, but I’m scared that I’m just seeing what I want. After Joey…” I trail off.
“I promise you I’m only into you. No other person has ever held my heart and soul like you do. I told you before. You are it for me.”
“Your chaos?” I ask tentatively as he palms the back of my head and pulls me close.
“My bold, beautiful chaos.”