Chapter 11
Dirty Dreams And A Blue Ball Christmas
Sharing a bed with a gorgeous woman, knowing what she tastes like, is pure fucking torture. Anyone who says otherwise is already getting laid.
Being this close to Noelle is testing every ounce of my self-control, especially after our mind-melting kiss earlier this evening.
I had hoped that giving in to a moment of weakness would quiet my desire for her, but it has only fanned the flames.
I’m transfixed by the memory of her fingers tangled in my hair and her soft lips pressed against mine.
A selfish part of me wishes I’d thrown caution to the wind and ignored all the reasons I shouldn’t want her.
But I have to remember that after Christmas, she’ll return to New York, where countless subscribers will hang on every word as she tells the story of being stranded for the holidays.
I cringe to think what they might think about her staying with a much older man she just met.
Now I sound like Noelle, concerned with what strangers might think when I couldn’t give a shit.
The undeniable truth is that I’ve grown fond of having her in my space, and if I surrender to my growing obsession, I’ll only set myself up for a cycle of longing and regret once she leaves.
My cock clearly hasn’t gotten the memo, since I woke up consumed by lust. It’s pressed against my boxers, pulsing with need for the woman beside me, consequences be damned.
I glance at the clock on the nightstand and groan when I see it’s 3:05 a.m. I rarely wake up with a hard-on in the middle of the night, but I’m only human.
It’s impossible to control my reaction to Noelle curled against me in nothing but her tank top and skimpy shorts.
She claimed it was too hot for sweats and a T-shirt, but I swear she knew the effect they’d have on me.
I didn’t miss her staring while we were getting ready for bed, her gaze drifting to my mouth as she bit her lower lip.
She seems intent on teasing me, unaffected by the same battle to keep her guard up that I’m losing.
The moon’s silver light shines through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the darkened room.
Noelle’s leg is draped over my hip, and her head rests on my bare chest. Shortly after she fell asleep, she migrated to my side of the bed, and I wasn’t strong enough to move her away.
The pillows I’d put between us didn’t stand a chance and are now scattered across the floor.
The responsible choice would’ve been to sleep on the couch, but I allowed myself this one indulgence, soaking in her warmth before she’s gone.
I checked the forecast last night, and it should be clear enough for a trip into town within the next couple of days.
Noelle may have agreed to stay through Christmas, but I worry she’ll rethink it once she’s back in civilization and no longer stuck with a cranky recluse.
So I’m holding on to this moment before it slips away.
I circle my arm around her waist, and my hand rests on her skin where her tank top has lifted, fighting the urge to move it past her waistband. Since I’ve been awake, she’s been restless, twitching every so often.
When she shifts again, her thigh brushes against my dick. She mumbles incoherently, and I take in a sharp breath as she grinds against my leg, her breasts rubbing against my bare chest as she moves against me in a steady rhythm.
My cock jerks when her moans fill the room as she rides my leg. It seems I’m not the only one who woke up sexually frustrated. I stifle a groan when Noelle picks up her pace, heat from her body radiating through the fabric between us.
From this angle, I can’t see her face. I assume she’s teasing me again, and it’s fucking working.
She digs her nails into my arm. “Shep,” she whimpers.
“Noelle,” I rasp against her neck.
The last ounce of my strength breaks when she clenches around my leg.
I push my thigh against her core, giving her the pressure she’s searching for.
My fingers wander to the waistband of her shorts when she tips her head back with a low moan, giving me an unobstructed view of her face in the dim light.
Her lips are parted, and frustration consumes me when I see that her eyes are shut.
Fuck. She’s not teasing, I think she’s dreaming.
I reluctantly move my hand. I’d like nothing more than to make Noelle come, but not like this.
Though I can’t claim her the way I want to, I’m not going to stop her from finding the release she’s aching for. After all, I’m a man who believes a woman should experience pleasure on her own terms, even in her dreams.
Noelle shifts beside me as she searches for more friction.
She arches her neck, peppering kisses along my neck, her breath skating across my skin.
I grit my teeth, finding the will to keep one hand at my side and the other above her head in a clenched fist. It’s been over a decade since I last slept with a woman, and just the thought of sinking into Noelle’s wet pussy has me hard as granite.
Moonlight filters through the window, illuminating her hand slipping between her parted thighs. The crude sound of her fingers entering her pussy echoes throughout the room as she pushes in and out in steady strokes.
Noelle’s breathing comes out in shallow bursts, the faint light catching the thin sheen of sweat at her collarbone. She’s fucking stunning with her hair fanned around her like a halo, her lashes flickering as she mutters something unintelligible in her sleep.
I watch mesmerized as a raspy moan passes her lips as she drives her fingers in with fast, urgent surges. Her face is scrunched up with frustration as she struggles to climax, flipping on her back to find a better angle.
It’s apparent that whatever she’s dreaming about isn’t enough to push her over the edge. At this rate, it’ll take a miracle for her to find her release, and I wish more than anything I could intervene.
She lets out a sharp huff of breath, and before I can move, Noelle goes rigid, her eyes snapping open.
She blinks rapidly, adjusting to the dim glow, hesitantly glancing between me and her hand still pressed between her thighs.
Her eyes widen as she scrambles to sit up, leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp.
Her cheeks are flushed crimson. “Please tell me you just woke up too.”
I prop myself up on one elbow, grimacing. “It’s hard to sleep with you pressed against me, crying out my name.”
“Oh god.” She tips her head, watching me as she processes. “Did I hump you too?”
“You did.”
She groans into her hands. “I was hoping that part was a dream.”
I sit up and move to her side of the bed, drawing her into my lap. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s a natural reaction when you’re sexually frustrated.”
It might be better if I gave her space, but not comforting her feels wrong. I tell myself it’s all for her, though deep down it’s for me too. I can’t deny that I want her here in my arms.
She frowns. “Why would you assume I’m sexually frustrated?”
“Because maybe I am too,” I confess, trailing my thumb along her jaw. “Not to mention, our kiss left you wanting more. Unless of course you snuck one of your toys into bed while I was in the shower before we turned in for the night, and that’s why you were having a hard time getting off just now.”
Her mouth falls open, and she jabs a finger into my chest. “I was right. You did find them in my luggage.”
“Sunshine, anyone with eyes would have. You’ve got a collection that’d make even a dominatrix blush.”
“They’re not mine,” she blurts.
I arch a brow. “And who exactly is packing dildos and butt plugs in your suitcase without your permission?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip, looking at me through hooded eyes. “They’re from a PR company that’s going to advertise on my podcast next month. I wanted to test their products beforehand.”
Even knowing this was supposed to be her solo trip, relief washes over me, confirming that she hadn’t planned to use them with another man.
I’m not sure what my reaction would have been if she had.
Sharing a bed with her must be going to my head.
I don’t have the right to dictate her choices, even if my territorial instincts disagree.
“Have you… tried them out yet?” I’m only torturing myself for asking, but I have to know.
She casts me a sidelong glance while pretending to pluck lint off my flannel. “Not yet. I haven’t exactly had a chance.”
“Do you use toys often?” I force my voice to remain casual.
She shakes her head. “Let’s just say the guys I’ve dated weren’t enthusiastic about adding toys into our sex life, and I didn’t use them much when I was single.”
I trail my fingers down her thigh in slow circles. “A real man would be confident enough in himself to explore his partner’s sexuality along with her.”
“Is that so?” Noelle shifts in my lap so she’s straddling me, moving slowly to protect her injured ankle. She leans in, looping her arms around my neck. “Would you play with me, cowboy? If we were having that fling you said we couldn’t have, would you teach me how to use a vibrator together?”
Fuck. Me.
I slip my fingers in her hair at the base of her neck. “I’d use your toys to fill every. Fucking. Hole.”
“Which ones?” she pants.
“I’d start with a plug to get you nice and primed for me.”
Nolle moans, her pupils dilated. “No one’s ever taken me there before.”
I nearly come undone, knowing I’d be the first to claim her ass. I’d make it so damn good and ruin her for every city boy who comes after me.
“The things I could teach you, baby girl,” I say like a promise.
I brush my lips against hers in slow strokes, and another soft moan slips from her mouth. I’m careful to not kiss her fully, only giving her a taste.
“We can’t kiss again, remember,” she whispers.
“Definitely not,” I choke out.
Noelle glances down where my cock strains against my sweatpants.
I inhale sharply when she moves her hand between us, tracing the outline of my dick.
A guttural groan passes my lips when she moves her fingers in a circular motion, teasing me.
Even with the material between her hand and me, I’m struggling to keep from coming.
It’s been so damn long, and controlling my physical reaction is a losing battle the longer she taunts me.
“You’re so big,” she murmurs.
The last of my restraint evaporates, and I put my hand over hers, pushing our joined fingers firmly against my hard-on. “Feel what you do to me, baby.”
Noelle gazes up at me with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Are you sure you don’t want to have a one-night stand?” she asks with doe eyes, nipping at my bottom lip, her hand still on my cock. “I’ve never been with an older man, or someone so big. I’m not even sure it would fit.”
Holy shit.
My mind short-circuits, her words striking like lightning and I want nothing more than to give in and show her what she’s been missing.
Just as my mouth parts, ready to give in and welcome Noelle in for a taste, she pulls back.
“On second thought, you’re right. I think hooking up is a terrible idea.” A groan escapes me as she withdraws her hand from my cock, and climbs off me. She moves back to her side of the bed, propping up her ankle, before shutting off the light. “Good night, cowboy.”
I’m left staring into the dark, half convinced I must have imagined that. The woman just made me almost whimper like a damn dog begging for its favorite bone.
That’s when it hits me, sitting in the silence, how close I came to giving in.
There’s no denying that Noelle has occupied my every waking thought since she got here.
Fuck, she’s plagued my dreams too. Trouble is, she’s given no indication she plans to stay beyond the day after Christmas.
To her, this is just a vacation, an escape from her usual routine.
I’m merely a novelty she doesn’t have in the city, and within a few days she’s prepared to pack her suitcase and leave without a second glance.
She’s unforgettable, and giving in would mean losing myself to her completely. It would cost me someone else who’s important to me, but this time, I’m not sure I’d survive it.
It should be as simple as restraining myself. The problem is Noelle is addictive as hell, and I’m running out of willpower to resist claiming every inch of her when she begs for every dirty thing I want to teach her.