14. Sabrina

CHAPTER 14

SAbrINA

I pull one of the cheesecakes out of the refrigerator in our room and inspect it, then compare it to the photos online.

Dulce de leche, I determine and set it on the counter. I dig out a plastic package of utensils next, then take my spoils over to the couch and turn the TV on. With the volume turned down low, I flip through the channels, not all that hopeful I’ll find anything good playing in the middle of the night.

I settle on a rerun of a sitcom I’ve seen more than once, then pop the lid open on the cheesecake and stick my fork in it. After dinner, I was way too full for even a single bite, but I couldn’t sleep without trying at least one flavor.

When the rich taste explodes on my tongue, a sound more befitting of the bedroom escapes me. I slide my fork from my mouth slowly, savoring the experience. It’s official: Maddie’s got good taste when it comes to restaurants.

I’ve just taken a second bite when the door slides open and Noah steps out, scaring the shit out of me.

His hair mussed from sleep and his sweatpants ride low on his trim hips. No shirt, just all that bronzed skin and muscles for days.

I try my best not to ogle my boss, but with the way my body tingles all over, I can’t deny I’m attracted to him.

“You scared me,” I admonish in a whispered hiss.

He jumps—payback. “Fuck, Sabrina. I didn’t see you.”

Those words, Fuck, Sabrina , in that deep, sleep-filled voice, should be illegal. I lick my lips and lower my face so I’m checking out my dessert instead of him.

He runs his fingers through his hair, stifling a yawn. “Hungry?”

I lift my chin, defiant and maybe a little defensive. Is he seriously going to judge me? “I was ready for a sweet treat.”

He hums, the sound easy, unbothered. Okay, maybe not.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“I slept some, but I was restless.”

I’m blaming my mom. And stupid Dolores, her busy-body aunt. I don’t know how she even stumbled across the singular photo of me walking beside Noah at the Australian Open. We aren’t looking at each other, and there’s a foot of space between us. Maddie was there, too, though she was conveniently cropped out.

Not a single aspect of the image warranted such a mean text message from her.

He nods, his expression sympathetic, as if he knows exactly why I was restless.

“What about you?”

He points at the door to his right. “I was just on my way to the bathroom.”

“Oh, right.”

The rooms in this suite share a bathroom.

While he takes care of business, I get back to the cheesecake. I’ve never had a massive sweet tooth, but this dessert may have single-handedly changed things.

The toilet flushes, and a moment later, the water runs in the sink. The thought hasn’t crossed my mind, but in the quiet, where I can’t help but listen to the sounds coming from the locked room, I realize that I haven’t once noticed the toilet seat being left up. Maybe he’s a unicorn who’s always put it down, or maybe it’s a learned habit from living with his wife and Maddie.

The room is illuminated softly for a moment as he opens the door, then he flips the light off and pads across the room to the fridge, where he pulls out a mini bottle of water. It’s golf-ball sized in his massive hands.

I wiggle on the couch, trying not to think about what those hands might feel like on my skin.

I’m not attracted to my boss. He’s grumpy and intolerable most of the time.

I’m simply desperate for some attention between the sheets. It’s been way too long. Even longer since I was with a man who had even the slightest idea what he was doing. By the way Noah moves on the court, in tune with every part of himself, I have a feeling he’d be incredible.

Dammit. I am attracted to him, annoyingly so, no matter how much I want to deny it.

The couch dips, startling me, and my thoughts fly away like a disturbed flock of pigeons.

“What are you doing?”

He holds out a fork, dark lashes shadowing the tops of his cheekbones in the blue glow of the TV screen. “Getting a bite. Would you prefer I tasted you instead?”

My heart leaps into my throat and my mouth goes dry. I should be angry, even disgusted. He’s my boss, after all. Instead, I find myself leaning in, like I’m daring him to do it. Like I want him to.

Do I want him to?

Yeah, I do.

But where the hell is this coming from? Is he sleep-walking?

He swallows audibly, his eyes roaming my face.

My heart is a staccato beat, and warmth pools low in my belly.

When his nose brushes mine, all the air is sucked from the room, and when he exhales, his breath fanning across my lips, my body trembles.

“Sabrina?” he whispers, his tone pure grit, his focus flicking from eyes to my lips and back again. “Yes or no?”

“Y-Yes.”

The word has barely escaped me when his lips are on mine. His big hand practically swallows my cheek whole, tilting my head back so he can slot his mouth over mine. This is no simple peck. This is a devouring.

It’s full of pent-up passion I truly couldn’t have imagined Noah feeling for me.

This is the kind of kiss a girl dreams about but rarely gets.

Every kiss I’ve ever had pales in comparison. We’re both fully clothed, not touching below the neck, and already, I worry Noah’s ruined me for all future men.

He lets out a low, sultry sound, and my pussy clenches in response. His tongue seeks mine and I part my lips.

You’re kissing your boss!

Logic and common sense prod at me, but I shush them and focus solely on the way it feels to have this man’s hot mouth on mine.

He releases my face and takes the cheesecake from my lap. Without pulling back, he chucks it behind him.

“Not the cheesecake,” I groan against his lips. “That was yummy.”

“Fuck the cheesecake.” Hands now on my hips, he pulls me onto his lap.

A moan escapes me when I register the thick, hard length beneath me.

“I can get you another one.”

He pulls back and stares at me, chestnut eyes nearly black in the darkened room. With a thumb, he brushes the curve of my cheek, then hooks his fingers under my chin and pulls me back in for a kiss. This one is slower. Softer.

I splay my hands over his bare chest, soaking in the heat of his skin and relishing the firm muscles beneath it, and rock my hips into him.

I’m dry humping my boss. This is a terrible idea.

But it feels so good.

“Sabrina,” he moans.

Spurred on by the desperation in his tone, I grind against him faster, pressing firmly into his erection. God, it would be so easy to reach down between us and take his warm length in my hand.

He grips the bare skin of my hips between my loose cotton shirt and sleep shorts, and as he slides his hands higher, a shiver of need shoots down my spine. He doesn’t stop until his fingers sit at my bra line and his thumbs circle my nipples.

I gasp against his mouth at the sensation and grind harder. I could orgasm just like this.

With one thumb still toying with a tight bud, he cuffs his other hand around my neck and squeezes gently.

I’ve never experienced anything like it. The slight lack of oxygen causes my core to pulse and my heart to race. All my senses are heightened.

“Noah.” His name is a pure whimper. I don’t think I’ve ever sounded so needy.

“You look pretty with my hand around your throat.” He kisses along my jaw. “And you sound incredible when you’re gasping my name.”

Oh my God.

There are a million reasons why this is a bad idea, but fuck, I can’t convince myself to stop and walk away like any normal, reasonable person would.

He pulls me in for another kiss while I explore his chest. I never thought about what an intense sport tennis was before this, but Noah is incredibly fit.

“Fuck, baby. Do you want me to come in my pants?”

“Yes.” The word is barely audible as I flick at one of his nipples.

He chuckles, the vibration in his chest nearly sending me over the edge. I roll my hips harder, faster. We’re both so close. I can sense it.

“Oh, fuck.” His head drops back with a groan just as fireworks explode behind my eyes and I detonate.

I ride him shamelessly, kissing the column of his neck, as he grips my ass, grinding me into an erection that doesn’t feel like it’s softening at all.

When the spasms ebb, I collapse against his chest, my ear over his rapidly beating heart. Mine might be pumping even faster.

We stay like that, neither of us moving for several long moments. Eventually, he presses one tender kiss to the top of my head. Then he picks me up and sets me on the couch, avoiding eye contact as he does.

My heart sinks as I clock the remorse etched into his features. I don’t expect a declaration of love or for him to throw me over his shoulder and cart me off to my room for more, but the rejection hurts.

Even worse? It hits me like a punch to the gut.

I could lose my job.

A job I’ve come to love.

One that pays me well.

I could lose Maddie.

He avoids the cheesecake smeared on the carpet, hands on his hips and eyes downcast, the front of his sweatpants damp, and clears his throat.

“We can’t do that again.”

I swallow, pretending that doesn’t sting. It shouldn’t . He’s only speaking the truth. “No, we can’t.”

He nods, like that’s all that needs to be said, steps around the mess, and shuffles to his room without even a glance back.

The scent of his body wash lingers, the only proof that this was real.

That and the dampness of my panties.

I give myself another minute to calm down before I clean up the mess and use the bathroom. In bed, I force my eyes closed and will myself to go to sleep, though it takes a long, long time.

I ease into the suite, carefully shutting the door behind me so I don’t disturb Maddie or Noah.

As I turn and pop my earbuds out, I’m met with a towering wall of muscle that’s bristling with anger. Several hours ago, that same hulking body was beneath mine, coming in his pants. But since his nostrils are flaring like an angry bull, I choose not to point that out.

“You went on a run without me.”

“That’s a statement, not a question. How would you like me to respond?”

“Sabrina.” He growls my name, but not in the low, sultry way he did only hours ago. This is all gravel mixed with shards of ice.

“I didn’t think you’d want to come.” I turn toward the fridge and fish out a bottle of water. Twisting off the cap, I lean my hip casually against the desk, feigning nonchalance. “I was doing you a favor.”

“A favor?” he scoffs. “Leaving me to wake up to find you gone, to worry, is doing me a favor? I’ve been pacing the room waiting for you to get back so I could make sure you’re okay. You didn’t take your phone.”

I roll my eyes at his dramatics. “It’s not that serious, Noah.”

“It is!” he shouts, eyes darting to the closed door between us and a sleeping Maddie. “It is to me,” he says, voice softer this time. He picks up my phone and holds it out to me. As I take it, I glance at the achingly long list of missed calls and texts. I even spot Fisher’s name before the screen goes black again.

“Why? I was fine running on my own before you ever came along.”

My defenses are up, my hackles raised. I didn’t do anything wrong. When he doesn’t answer, I huff and sidestep him, but as I pass, he grasps my arm, his thumb digging into my elbow.

At the sensation, I try not to think about how his thumbs were rubbing my nipples earlier.

A muscle in his jaw twitches, his attention averted.

“Noah?” I prompt. “Tell me why you don’t want me to run by myself. Give me a reason.”

His hold on me loosens. He steps back, running long fingers through his dark brown waves and breathing harshly, like he’s in pain.

Just when I think he won’t answer me, he says, “My sister was attacked on a run. It?—”

Horror floods me, but he reaches out again, this time in a reassuring way, calming my fears.

“Nothing like what you’re thinking happened. A witness was there and stepped in, but she never got over it. I haven’t either. I was supposed to be with her, but practice had run late the day before and I was tired and…” He exhales a breath so heavy it’s as if he’s been holding for years. “That’s why I don’t want you running by yourself. Okay?”

Painful remorse weaves through me. It makes so much more sense now. “I wish you would’ve told me that sooner.”

He nods, hands on his hips. “Maybe I should have, but it’s not my story to tell.”

On instinct, I grip his wrist lightly. “I won’t run by myself anymore. I promise.”

His eyes drop to my lips before he looks away. “Good. Thank you.”

“Look at you.” I let go of him. “Learning communication skills. I’m proud.”

A gruff laugh rumbles in his chest. “Sure, let’s call it that. I’m going to go call Fisher and tell him you’re safe.”

I drop my head back and groan. “You didn’t send Fisher out to look for me, did you?”

“No, he volunteered. He was afraid that if I was the one who found you, I might strangle you.”

I shake my head, trying not to smile. This man is funny, even when he isn’t trying to be.

“I’m going to shower.” I point toward the bathroom. “I just need to grab some clean clothes first.”

He nods, eyes roaming over me—not like he’s checking me out, but instead like he’s making sure I really did make it back unscathed.

“I’m okay,” I say gently. “Not a scratch on me. Promise.” I put my arms up and spin in a circle.

When he grunts like a caveman in response, I shake my head and pad to my room. As I hit the threshold, he clears his throat, stopping me.

“You definitely tasted better than the cheesecake.”

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