Chapter 35 Noah
Chapter thirty-five
Noah
Ihad Sawyer wait in the truck while I cleaned off the snow. Good thing, too. The piles are so wet and heavy it takes twice as long as usual to clear the windows and mirrors.
When I open the driver’s door, a blast of hot air welcomes me inside.
Sawyer grins as I shake all the fresh flakes from my hair. It’s really coming down.
I take my time backing up, getting a feel for the conditions. Then I ease down the driveway and quickly discover the almost complete absence of traction under my tires.
I hadn’t even thought about putting snow tires on the truck. I hadn’t gotten around to a lot of weatherproofing and winter prep yet, to be honest. It never snows this intensely or this early around here.
Right away it’s clear the conditions are treacherous. I’m going to have to go dig out Edna in the next day or two. I’ll call her in a bit and make sure she doesn’t try to drive in this.
I press down on the gas, only for the tires to spin aimlessly for a few seconds. We jerk forward once I regain traction—then we slide several feet before I’m able to correct it.
Dammit. Quickly, I regain control, then grasp Sawyer’s thigh.
“All right?”
“Yeah, fine,” she says, squeezing my hand.
I squeeze hers in return, then grip the wheel at ten and two. “I don’t expect to see anyone out this way and there aren’t any ditches or bridges from here to the main road, so even if we slide off the road, we’re safe.”
“I trust you,” she offers plainly.
And that feels damn good to hear.
“This much snow isn’t normal for Ohio this time of year, is it?”
I shake my head but keep my focus on the road. Or on where I think the road is, given the landmarks I can make out.
“Definitely not normal,” I mutter as I hit the brakes harder than necessary to test the antilock system.
Sawyer emits a little squeal as we come to a grinding halt.
When I look over again, one hand is splayed over her chest, her breathing heavier now.
“Just checking the brakes,” I assure her. “I can take you back if you’re not comfortable out here.”
Eyes widening, she shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. I was just startled, that’s all. Like I said… I trust you to keep us safe.”
Her words should feel like warm, wanted praise. They should. Yet unexpected tendrils of shame lick up my spine. I’d do anything for her—and for Mercer—hell, even for Tytus. I like to think I can care for the people I love, but history has proven otherwise.
Shaking my head, I strike the thoughts from my mind. Today’s not the day to spiral. Especially since everyone else is doing plenty of that without me adding my trauma into the mix.
With a deep breath in, I push down the sense of inadequacy and the fear. “I just want to make it out to the main road to see how many times the plows have passed through. I’ll go slow, but I need you to stay buckled the entire time, just in case.”
“Got it,” Sawyer confirms.
The radio’s off, and the task at hand requires intense focus. Typically, I’m fine with silence, but the quietness of the cabin is a stark reminder of all the things I want to say to the woman by my side.
We’ll get into it. We’ve got time.
Right now, I just need to get us through this.
Before long, though, Sawyer breaks the silence.
She sniffs, then, sheepishly, she says, “It sort of smells like sex in here.”
I stifle a laugh. I’ve been so focused on driving in these conditions I hadn’t noticed. But now that she pointed it out, I smell it, too. The air in the cab has a musty, heady scent.
Naturally, that sends my mind back to last night, to all the moans, whimpers, and heavy breathing I endured from the front seat.
“Do you remember being in the truck last night, honey?”
Mercer gave me the rundown on MDMA this morning, and with each fact he shared, my ire rose.
It’s not judgment. A person’s conscious choice to do drugs or to use recreational drugs to let loose and blow off steam is their prerogative.
Hell, after a long day of work, there’s nothing I love more than sitting around the bonfire, drinking a few beers, and taking a few pulls from Mercer’s joint.
My issue is with the why.
Why did she do that last night? Why did she take the “sex drug” as Mercer so succinctly put it? Sawyer is brilliant. She knew what that drug would do to her—how it’d make her feel.
“I have vague recollections,” she admits, playing with the cuffs of the winter coat I bundled her up in before leaving the house.
“A lot of the details are blurry. It started with Tytus. Mercer was there, too.” She peers over at me, head still lowered.
“I’m almost certain you weren’t in the back seat with us. ”
Grimly, I nod. “I was not. I heard plenty from the front seat,” I grouse. It was excruciating listening to Tytus and Mercer drive her higher and higher while I sat in the front seat by myself. “I stayed up here and kept an eye out since we were parked in the driveway of that house party.”
Sawyer groans, head hanging. “I should probably be more mortified…”
I take the bait.
“But?”
She draws it out, slowly lifting her head and turning to face me.
“I got Tytus and Mercer to cooperate for once, didn’t I?”
I snicker. Yeah, as reluctant and animosity-fueled as it was, it was still teamwork.
“Clever girl,” I praise, easing into the curve ahead of the train tracks.
Rather than slow the way it should, the truck keeps moving, and suddenly I don’t have any control. When we slide sideways, my body locks up, my hands gripping the wheel tight.
“Brace yourself.” I throw one arm out to keep Sawyer from flying forward with the momentum of the vehicle while trying to keep myself from jolting too much either.
With any luck, the enormous snowbank on the right will soften the blow. I just pray it’s all snow and actually a safe place to land.
When the truck jerks to a relatively soft stop, I open my eyes and look to Sawyer first—she’s wide-eyed and breathing heavy, but she appears to be okay.
Without the crunch of metal or any immediate sign of damage to the vehicle, I ascertain quickly that we’re okay.
“We’re all right,” I say out loud, as much for my own reassurance as for hers.
On a shaky, broken whisper, Sawyer asks, “Can I unbuckle now?”
In reply, I undo her seat belt myself.
As soon as it clicks, she scrambles over the center console and clumsily climbs into my lap.
I move the seat back, making space so I can really hold her. Then I pull her in tight. “We’re all right, honey,” I murmur. I take her face in my hands, cupping her cheeks so I can look her in the eye and make sure she’s okay.
She’s the most precious thing in my life.
God, I love this woman.
She blinks, tears gathering in her eyes and soaking the lower lashes.
I kiss her softly, pouring every ounce of concern and care into the slow, languid movements. I savor each second that ticks by, trying like hell to be the comfort she needs.
“I’m okay,” she whispers, her words shaky as she pulls back. She weaves her arms around me and buries her face in the side of my neck. “I swear I’m fine. It’s just the adrenaline. I’m rattled, that’s all.”
“You don’t have to hide it from me,” I remind her.
When she pulls away this time, the intense vulnerability painted on her face shocks me.
My lungs constrict. “I shouldn’t have brought you out here like this,” I gasp out.
Her eyes widen in objection. “I said I’m fine, and I meant it. I’ve survived way worse.”
I close my eyes and sigh. Don’t I know it.
“You can’t protect me from everything,” she adds, softer. “I already feel better. I just had to get over the initial shock.”
I sigh, trying like hell to accept that she’s right. I can’t protect her from everything, no matter how much that truth hurts.
“What now?” She nibbles on her bottom lip, arching back to look out the window. “Do we need to call a tow truck or—”
“I can get us out of this. If I can’t work the truck out in reverse, I’ll get out and push, and you can drive.”
Surprise dances over her face. “You’ll push us out? Easy as that?”
“I’ve done it before.” I shrug, downplaying the effort it would actually take. My back aches in anticipation of how sore I’ll be tomorrow if it comes to that.
Sawyer studies me, her face a few inches from mine.
She’s stunning—up close, from afar. I’ll never get over how open she is.
She feels deeply and expresses emotions in a way that’s disarmingly honest. Moments ago, she was terrified, then she was legitimately concerned.
Now she looks awestruck, all because of me.
It’s a privilege to have her in my arms—to have her in my life.
I want to tell her as much. To put into words just how much she means.
I’m on the verge of taking the plunge and saying three words I’ve only ever uttered to one other woman.
But just like that, a switch is flipped.
Heat dances in her eyes, a mischievous smile turning up the corners of her lips.
I’m once again disarmed, and honestly mesmerized, as she arches back slightly and spreads her legs wider, giving me more of her weight.
“And here I thought maybe we were stranded,” she teases. “Stuck on the side of the road, just the two of us. I thought we’d have to keep each other warm in the truck, waiting on a tow.”
She doesn’t give me a chance to reply before she surges forward and captures my mouth. This kiss is more urgent—hot and needy, laced with lust and filled with promise.
She slips her tongue into my mouth as she presses her tits into my chest, and within seconds, her drugging kisses reduce me to all my base instincts.
I want her. Need her. I desire her so deeply it scares me.
I kiss the path of her jaw. I kiss what little skin I can find, since she’s bundled up.
She’s so soft. So warm and pliable and lovely and mine.
And when I suck on a sensitive spot below her ear, her hips roll forward, taunting me. So I do it again. And again.
Every time I latch on and suck, she presses forward, grinding against my lap in a hypnotic rhythm.
I thrust up to test my range, only to discover that in the confines of the front seat, I can’t give her nearly enough pressure or resistance.
She deserves everything.
“Fuck,” I grumble, accepting the reality of the situation and begrudgingly removing my mouth from her neck.
Sawyer giggles.
I can’t help but smile back at her. I don’t know why she thinks it’s so funny when I swear. Mercer does it all the damn time and it doesn’t elicit this kind of reaction from her.
“Noah.” My name is a breathy, hopeful plea.
She snakes a hand down between our bodies and grips me through my jeans, mewling.
Heat floods me and a growl rumbles through my chest. I capture her shoulders and guide her back to look me in the eyes. “Not here, honey. I don’t have nearly enough space for what I want to do to you.”
Flames erupt in her irises. “And what, exactly, do you want to do to me?”
Grinning, I lean forward, capturing her earlobe between my teeth. “Something I haven’t had the privilege of experiencing yet.”
Her breath hitches, her heart racing. She pulls back and searches my face, her expression full of eagerness.
I draw the moment out, letting her curiosity build.
Then I grip the back of her head, turn her face so I can look her in the eye, and say, “I want to lick your pretty little cunt until you’re screaming so loud Mercer and Tytus hear it from the house.
I want to make a mess of you, honey. I wanna feast on your pussy, suck out that sweet nectar, and make your legs shake until you’re begging for Daddy’s cock. ”