Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Noel
“Perfect.” Jules spots the small sofa in my room and walks over to it. “I’ll sleep here.”
“You’ll sleep in the bed.”
She grabs a pillow from the bed and puts it on the sofa, then takes her travel bag from me. “I’m going to wash my face and brush my teeth, and then I’m going to sleep. On this sofa.”
I shake my head, my fatigue forgotten. “I’ll be on the sofa when you come out of the bathroom, so you can try to move me off it, but it won’t work well.”
Her sharp note of laughter is unamused. “Fine. You’ll have to get up to answer the door when the cot gets here and then I’ll take the sofa.”
I shrug. “I won’t answer it.”
She folds her arms in front of her. “Then I’ll answer it and use the cot.”
I run a hand through my hair, my frustration mounting. “Don’t be so stubborn, Jules.”
“I just want to sleep. I honestly don’t care where it is.”
“Good. It’ll be in the bed.”
She takes a bottle, a toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste from her bag.
“Get cleaned up and changed,” I say. “Then let’s get some rest.”
“I’m washing my face because I want to, not because you told me to.” She glares at me as she passes me to go to the bathroom.
“You’re pretty damn salty considering I’m trying to help.”
“Sleeping on that couch is all the help I need,” she says, walking into the bathroom but leaving the door open.
I hear the sink faucet being turned on when there’s a knock at the door. When I open it, a man in a hotel uniform is there with a folded-in-half cot on wheels, Jules’s heels in hand.
Taking the shoes in one hand and grabbing the cot handle with my other, I thank him and wheel the cot into the room.
“Seriously, Noel,” Jules calls from the bathroom, “take the bed.”
Like hell. I’d never sleep in the king-size bed while she’s on a couch or a cot. I set up the cot, using extra blankets from the closet, and move the pillow from the couch to the cot.
When Jules emerges from the bathroom, her face fresh after being scrubbed clean, she gives me a weary look.
“Get off my cot,” she gripes.
“Why are you still wearing your clothes?”
Her cheeks flush light pink. “I didn’t think you’d want me to wear my pajamas.”
Dammit. I can’t help getting hard just looking at her. She’s so beautiful. Maybe even more so because she won’t just sleep in the bed like I’m telling her to.
“Put your pajamas on and go to bed.” I flip onto my side so I’m facing away from her. “I’ll be asleep in about thirty seconds.”
“I’m not trying to be a dick, but—”
I cut her off, pulling the covers up over my shoulders. “Quit arguing with me. I don’t care if you think I’m a dick.”
“Fine. I’ll take the couch.”
I throw the covers off, turning around and sitting up. “I’ve fucking had it. Why are you being so obstinate?”
For the first time, uncertainty flickers in her eyes. She thinks I’m angry, but I’m not. I’m so turned on I can’t even think straight, and it’s all I can do to keep my hands off her.
“You aren’t my boss,” she says softly. “You won’t kiss me because you think it’s unprofessional, but you aren’t my boss.”
I’m momentarily stunned. “That’s what this is about?”
A smile dances on her lips. “Mostly.”
She slides out of her cropped blazer, tossing it onto the couch. My eyes track her every movement, my dick painfully hard now.
I stand up, knowing she can likely see how much just looking at her turns me on. “So all I need to do is kiss you, and you’ll take the bed?”
She nods, her lips parting a fraction. I know I shouldn’t do it, but standing here alone with her, just a couple of feet keeping us apart, my resolve falters. She wants me to kiss her. After burning for her day and night for a month now, I don’t want to keep fighting it.
I move closer, cupping her cheek with one hand. When my fingertips touch her skin, she inhales a quick little gasp, one of her hands landing on my side.
It’s been such a long time since a woman touched me, and it’s never felt like this. Just her hand on me, with my T-shirt between us, is making my pulse pound. She’s so vibrant and beautiful, a bittersweet reminder of what I might’ve been able to have ten years ago.
“I think about you all the time,” she whispers.
I don’t deserve that. I’m old enough to be her father and I haven’t pursued her the way she deserves. But I’m selfish. I put my free hand on her waist and slide it around to her lower back, pulling her body against mine.
My lips meet hers in a kiss that’s not exploratory. I can feel her need, and it matches my own. There’s nothing tentative about either of us, and our kiss is deep and intense from the start. She presses her body against mine, making me groan.
It feels so fucking good. Nothing but this matters. I lock my arm around her waist and move my hand from her cheek to her hair, my fingers raking through the thick, soft strands and pulling.
She gasps, melting into me. Her hand is in my hair now, tugging as her other hand snakes up beneath my shirt to my back. The feel of her fingers on my bare skin awakens something inside me. I squeeze her ass, grinding my cock against her.
When I pull my mouth away from hers, she’s breathless, her lips bright pink and swollen.
“Please don’t stop,” she begs.
I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to. And I don’t.
I grab the back of my T-shirt and pull it up and off over my head. Her eyes flare slightly as she takes in my bare chest, the hair scattered over it the same salt-and-pepper mix as the hair on my head.
Her gaze stops for a second on the bicep tattoo I got with my teammates when we won the championship, with our logo and the year. Again, on my scars—one above my abs and the other on my collarbone—both from hockey sticks.
She tugs on the waistband of my sweats, easing me closer. I grin at her and cup her ass, squeezing it. Her eyes flutter closed and she moans softly.
Her blouse has a V-neck and no buttons. I start pulling it up and she puts her arms in the air, allowing me to take it off.
Her skin is perfect; her large breasts are cradled in the cups of a white satin bra. I bend to kiss her neck and she wraps her arms around my back.
“I think about you all the time, too,” I murmur against her soft, warm skin.
“Noel.”
I love the way she says my name, like it’s the answer to every question she has.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I put my knee between her thighs, parting them as my knee meets the bed. She lets me lay her back on the mattress, and then I take a few seconds to just look at her.
I want to remember every detail. Her honey-colored hair fanned beneath her head and shoulders. The lust in her eyes as she gazes up at me. The sultry, low moan she lets out when I bend to kiss the bare curve of her breast.
Fuck sleep. She’s what I need. My ex and I would rut like animals—it was always quick and perfunctory. But this somehow feels more intimate.
Jules reaches up to cup my crotch through my sweatpants, and she gasps with satisfaction at the same time I groan.
“You’re big,” she says softly.
And so fucking hard. But I can’t tear her clothes off and fuck her. I want to, but not without knowing she’s completely sure. Even though I’m not her boss, the price could be very high for both of us, and it’s not a choice we should make lightly.
My lips meet hers again, and she lets out a purr of contentment. She sinks both hands into my ass, pushing my body into hers. My erection grinds against her and she gasps, arching her hips.
“Pants stay on,” I murmur in her ear.
“Worried I’ll take advantage of you?”
I hum with amusement. “Yeah, that’s it.”
She rocks her hips up again. “God, that feels good.”
“When’s the last time you were with someone?”
“Mm ... almost two years.”
I kiss her jawline, surprised by that. “You? You could have anyone you wanted.”
“So could you. When was the last time for you?”
“More than two years. Less than three.”
She threads her fingers into my hair, moaning again and spreading her legs wider. “Don’t stop doing that, baby.”
My chest expands when she calls me that. No woman has ever called me by a pet name, and I’ve never called a woman by one. But Jules is different. I’ve known that since I met her.
The way she’s breathing faster and rocking her hips in an increasingly fast rhythm, I know she’s going to come from this. I’ve never dry fucked a woman, but it’s sexy as fuck seeing Jules so turned on. She’s not shy; she’s taking what she wants and I love it.
“Jesus fuck, Jules,” I grit out. “You’re gonna make me come in my pants like a fucking teenager.”
“Oh god.” She buries her fingertips in my ass cheeks, squeezing. “Please, Noel.”
I trap both her hands above her head, holding her wrists down as I get up on an elbow and grind against her pussy.
My lips hover over hers as I say, “Rub that horny little pussy on my cock. Get—”
“Ah!” she cries out, arching her back. “Oh, fuck.”
The moment I know she’s coming down from her orgasm, I grind against her a final time and groan long and deep, letting myself come, too.
She puts a hand on my shoulder, her eyes finding mine. “Don’t regret this. Please.”
“I won’t.” I kiss her gently. “I’ll relive it a thousand times in my fantasies.”
Her smile slides away. “You don’t have to fantasize about me, baby. I’m right here, anytime you want me.”
I kiss her again. “See if you still feel that way this time next week.”
“I will.”
I move off her, lying on my back, and she snuggles into my side.
“We resolved the bed issue quite well, I think. Let’s settle every argument we have this way.”
I smile and kiss her forehead. “I’ll be picking fights with you every second of every day.”
“Mm. Perfect.”
“Get some sleep.”
“You too. And don’t you dare leave this bed.”