35. Awa
Chapter thirty-five
Awa
He doesn't even say hello when he walks off the elevator.
He goes straight for my mouth. His fingers dig into my hip with one hand and pull back on my head with the other, angling me so his tongue can go deeper.
Explore my mouth further. The whole time grinding the unmistakable evidence of his arousal against my stomach.
It's like he's as hungry for this as I am.
I'm embarrassed to admit how much I miss him after less than a week apart.
Thanks to Tabitha's newfound daredevil tendencies, we've seen each other every day this week.
Seen each other—shared a few heated glances across the craft services table, stolen a few touches beneath the makeshift desks of the video village—but not spent time together…
after hours. When it's just the two of us and our mutual desire to find comfort in the other person's body.
When he's not Yong-rae's agent and I'm not Tabitha's lawyer.
Tonight's the first time since that first night that our schedules actually lined up.
"How do I open this thing?" he mutters in frustration when he fails to find the hidden zipper of my top.
I laugh and pull his hands away when he looks like he might just rip it.
"Ah ah ah!" I tsk, stepping out of his reach but not the line of his ravenous gaze. "You will not be ripping my favorite top."
His bottom lip pokes out, and I giggle at the sight of a grown man pouting.
But his expression perks up when my top lands in a heap on the ground and I stand before him in a black mesh bra, black pinstripe pants, and killer black heels.
I feel like a seductress, able to bend any man to my will with just the sway of my hips. But I don't want just any man.
Noah literally wipes his mouth with his sleeve before rushing me, gathering me up in his arms, and biting the sensitive area where my neck meets my shoulder. I cry out and arch my back, bringing my aching core in line with the one thing that will soothe it.
He unfastens the hook of my pants, then pulls them down as he sinks to his knees.
"Spread your legs," he orders once I've kicked the pants from around my ankles.
I do as he says, and he rewards me by yanking down my panties and plunging his thick fingers deep into my pussy. We both moan at the connection.
"God, Awa. Your pussy is so…" He leans in and places a chaste kiss right against my clit. "Perfect."
Two strong hands hold me in position as he parts my seam with his eager tongue.
It circles my bud, slides lower into my center, then returns once more to the source of my agony.
My cunt is streaming and I'm trembling like the strand of a spider's web, alerting a predator of vulnerable prey nearby.
And then Noah strikes, thrusting his fingers into me at the same time he takes my clit in a deep, wet suck.
I cum immediately, crumpling over him like a tree in a hurricane.
"You were on fire today," he murmurs, placing errant kisses on my womanhood as I continue to quiver against my entryway wall. "You had the studio running scared."
Irritation pinches the skin between my brows.
"They tried to say the existing coverage would be sufficient despite the change to the rigging!" I grouse.
I start to close my legs, sink into myself at the thought of those slimy execs trying to get away with the bare minimum.
But Noah doesn't let me. He lets out the cutest growl and nudges my legs back out with his knees.
He goes back to showering my pussy with little licks and kisses, and I stifle a laugh.
"I didn't mean to kill the mood," he says, nipping my hip and the tender skin of my pelvis. "On the contrary; watching you go toe to toe with those douchebags was extremely hot. I've been hard ever since I overheard you with them."
He nuzzles against the soft skin of my pooch, but stops when he notices me stiffen.
"Awa? What is it?"
I frown, unsure about broaching the subject.
People's perceptions of me are my burden to bear, not his.
But…if we're going to keep seeing each other, if we're ever going to do more than see each other, I need to be able to share these things with him.
I can't walk on eggshells in my own relationship.
I let out a steadying breath.
"It's small," I hedge, trying to soften the blow, "but last time, you said I was mean.
Tonight, you said Pinnacle's counsel was scared, which, I assure you, he was not," I huff mildly.
"It's hard enough trying to get things done as a woman.
As a Black woman, I can barely even frown without getting labeled an Angry Black Woman. The double standard is outrageous."
I'm panting now, annoyed just thinking about that sniveling weasel.
He wasn't unusual; he's the norm. Every day, I have to hold my own against men who would gladly trample me to get one more percentage point on their ROI.
To them, this business is like a big, flashy financial investment, and it's my job to keep my clients from winding up just another zero in their ledgers.
Noah is up now, standing close but not touching me, his face etched in worry.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I didn't mean—" He clears his throat.
"I would never call you an Angry Black Woman, nor do I think of you that way.
You're damn impressive, a sight to behold.
You are scary," he insists, and raises his hand to stop my objection.
"Scary good at your job. You know I come from a family of lawyers.
They're Goliaths in their specialties, and I would never have lived up to that level of excellence.
"You?" He shakes his head. "You, they would love. You would give them a run for their money."
I'm stunned. My mouth opens and closes, but no sound emerges.
I've spent my life working to hear those words.
That I'm worthy. That I'm special. That I make them proud.
And now, in less than two weeks, I hear them from both my mom and Noah, the man I'm sleeping with.
The man I work next to. The first man to ever break my heart.
"Thank you," I choke out. Noah bundles me in his arms, and we're silent for a while.
"I shouldn't have brought it up," he says quietly against the top of my head. "I'm the one who said no work talk, and I honestly didn't think about how my words could sound. Thank you for calling me on my shit."
I huff out a laugh against his chest.
"I'm always happy to call you on your shit," I tease, and his body rumbles with laughter.
"So, do we get to have make-up sex now, or do I need to eat your pussy again?" he asks with a wicked grin.
"Noah!" I gasp, then shriek when he lifts me up and throws me over his shoulder. "Put me down!"
I know he can carry me—he seems to delight in throwing me around whenever we're both naked—but I can't get my heart under control after his sincere words, his easy apology. They trigger a warm feeling that starts in the pit of my stomach and blooms behind my breastbone.
It's almost like—
Ring ring. Ring ring…Ring ring. Ring ring.
Both of us turn and frown at the high-pitched chimes emanating from Noah's pocket.
"I thought our phones were supposed to be on silent," I grumble.
He looks apologetic when he fumbles in his pocket to retrieve the offending device.
"Sorry again," he offers, chagrined.
He silences it and resumes his walk to my bedroom when my phone starts ringing from a pile of clothes by the front door. He turns to me with a smirk.
"And you just let me apologize again."
I bat my eyelashes innocently.
"What can I say? I like a man who grovels."
He growls and gives my bottom the cutest swat, then takes another step. This time, my home phone rings.
"What the hell?" I sigh, exasperated. "Someone is really trying to get ahold of me. The only people who have this number are—"
I scramble off his shoulders and race to the phone.
"Hello?" It's dead by the time I answer. "Shit."
Noah pulls his phone out of his pants and frowns.
"I've got five missed calls," he moans. "I think I have to take this."
I'm about to suggest he does just that when my home phone starts ringing again. I snatch up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Awa, you have to help Yong-rae!" Tabitha wails in lieu of a greeting. "We had no idea there were any cameras!"
I immediately switch into professional mode. Cameras mean pictures, video, and at this time of night, scandal.
"First off," I start, "take some deep breaths. Of course I'm going to help Yong-rae, unless he already has his own attorney."
"I don't care if he has his own attorney. He needs you. He needs the best, because those pictures are not how it happened."
So pictures, then.
"OK," I console her, my voice soft. "What exactly happened?"
"Have you not seen the Post's article?" Tabitha gasps.
"Uh…" I flounder. "Did it just come out?"
"Ten minutes ago," she whimpers. "We were hanging together at my place when the news broke. Pinnacle's been calling him nonstop, but I told him not to answer until he talks to you."
Dread makes my blood run cold. What could've happened that's got the studio speed-dialing their leading man in the middle of production?
Nothing good, I presume.
"I haven't seen the article. What happened?"
Tabitha answers at the same time Noah speaks from over my shoulder.
"The Post just wrote that Yong-rae gave some nightclub owner a black eye. There are pictures of the altercation, and apparently the owner is pressing charges."
Merde.