19. Nineteen
Nineteen
Lennon
G riffin finishes checking the ground floor of the barn, but never bothers climbing the ladder. My heart pounds in my chest as Noah’s hand grips my waist from where we are hidden, surrounded by straw. The scratch of the straw pokes through the arm of my sweater, bales stacked on either side of us, shrouding us in darkness.
When Griffin leaves, I don’t move. Noah’s breath warms my neck, matching the rhythm of his chest behind me. We still, as if we are waiting for something to happen.
What we’re waiting for, I have no idea.
I suck in a deep breath, noting the way his fingers tighten infinitesimally on my hips. Another breath–another, and all of my senses heighten. The smell of him, the feel of his skin–his nearness–
“We’re in the clear,” he whispers, leaning closer, and I shiver.
I don’t want to move from this spot. I don’t want to stop feeling his hands on me. Somehow, having sex with him has just made my desire increase. All I want is more –more of his humor, his presence–all of it.
“I know,” I say, leaning back into him. He takes the hint, his lips ghosting over my neck. The soft press of his mouth drags a soft sound from my parted lips.
I place my hand over his at my hip and press until his fingers pull me closer, my ass firmly against him. He’s been hard this whole time, and something about that has my body crying out with need.
“What is it you want?” he asks, the timbre of his voice sending goosebumps over my skin. Noah kisses my shoulder over my sweatshirt, one hand moving to my stomach with his fingers splayed out and taunting beneath the fabric.
I grind back into him, unable to control my breath.
“Anyone could come up here,” he warns.
I lean back, resting my head against his chest. “I’ve changed my mind,” I whisper. “You can tell me to be quiet, now.”
He chuckles as his hand drags over my skin, fingers toying with the waistline of my jeans. When he pushes lower, I groan.
“That’s not what you’re supposed to be doing.” He doesn’t relent, placing another kiss near my throat. “Should I talk you through this?”
My breath catches, and I grind back into him, forcing a sound to sneak past his lips. I’m high on it. I want to hear it again.
“Go ahead,” I say. “I need to know what you’re doing.”
Noah’s other hand trails up my arm and makes me curse the cooler weather for the first time all autumn. I want his fingers on my skin, and it isn’t until his hand is at my throat, slowly brushing over the spot he kissed with his thumb, that I get what I want.“I’m going to touch you, Lennon. Is that alright?”
“Please,” I practically beg as the hand by my stomach finds the button of my jeans, unhooking it and slowly dragging the zipper downward.
“You said you like the build-up,” he whispers, the hand at my throat moving to my hip and pulling me tight against him. His other hand glides lower, his fingers tucking beneath my underwear, but he’s nowhere near where I need him. In fact, he feels miles away.
“Where should I go from here?” he whispers again, and there’s a taunting to his voice that’s driving me crazy. “Should I push my fingers into you?” I’m panting. “Use the heel of my hand to drive you wild?”
“Just fucking touch me, Noah.” My hand reaches up, wrapping around the back of his neck as I attempt to pull him even closer–as if that’s even possible.
“Are you begging?” he chides. “I didn’t take you as the type to beg.” His hand moves lower, so close now that I can hardly breathe.
“I’m begging.” My hips grind against him, relishing in the sound he makes. “I’m not above begging for your fingers inside of me.”
Noah practically growls as his fingers finally make their way to where I need him most, entering and curling as his palm rubs against me, and my breath catches. Pulse pounding, I lean into every drag of his palm against me, my hips moving–guiding.
“ Christ ,” I whisper.
“Are you praying?” he asks.
“Fuck, no.”
I moan with each motion of his hand, pleasure directing my focus to where he touches me. My body climbs higher with every second until I can feel myself on the edge–wet and desperate. Noah’s teeth scratch over the skin below my ear, making me shudder. My legs shake, and I’m so close, I can hardly speak.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers, and I squeeze my eyes shut, the tension finally releasing.
I’m left panting and wanting more than anything to drive him wild. Noah removes his hand from my pants and I zip them. When they’re buttoned, I turn around with the sharp need to make him come undone in this musty barn.
Noah watches me slowly lower to my knees, looking up through my lashes when my hand glides up his thigh. “No jeans today?” I question, tilting my head to the side. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, fighting off the smile that threatens to pull at my mouth. He looks thoroughly wound up–needy.
His only response is a whispered fuck just before the barn door slides open more abruptly, multiple flashlights illuminating the darkness.
“Shit,” I mutter, quickly standing and stepping away.
“Where the fuck are they?” Ryan asks, and I listen as footsteps creak on the rungs of the wooden ladder to the hayloft.
I back out of the alcove, a bright light flashing in my face as Ellis stands there, her eyes wide.
Lifting my hand, I squint against the light before she lowers it, gaping.
When I take a step back, my ass brushes against something hard, and I realize Noah is standing directly behind me. I can’t imagine how we look. Guilty isn’t enough to cover it.
The heat of embarrassment washes over my chest–my face, and I fight the urge to run. There’s no getting out of this one. “Hey,” I say, trying like hell to keep my tone casual.
“Found them,” Ellis calls over her shoulder, and Griffin laughs below.
“ Them? ” he questions, and I can hear the mirth in his tone.
Noah clears his throat, and I move forward, keeping my expression pleasant and absolutely not guilty. I’m trying to give off I totally wasn’t having sex vibes, but somehow, I think I’m failing.
I pass Ellis, turning to scale down the ladder in an attempt to get away as quickly as possible. “Who lost?” I ask.
“Nolan,” Ryland says from below. “But I think we might be done playing games at this point.”
I step onto the dirt floor of the bar, turning with a questioning look on my face.“Why?” I ask, tilting my head as Ellis and then Noah join us on the ground floor.
Griffin turns, hiding the laughter that’s clearly threatening to break free. When his eyes flick back and forth between me and Noah, I try not to wince. “You really don’t want us to answer that,” he says.