16. Noah
16
NOAH
S he was still so fucking tiny. Too small for her age, but too much hair, her eyes overly large and her mouth even bigger.
The girl just couldn’t stop herself from saying exactly what she thought, and that was part of the problem. Too confident with her opinions. Too small to back them up. Only this time, it wasn’t her mouth that got her in trouble. Twelve and starting to grow up, Molly had started wearing a bra the week earlier. And though it shouldn’t have been a big deal—all the girls went through it at some point—Molly was a special case. Tiny and cute as a button, she’d also alienated most of the boys in the orphanage. And now they had something new to pick on her about.
Trevor had her backed up against the wall of the what they called the stables, though there had never been horses there. She was staring up at him, her arms covering her chest and hour mouth moving a million miles an hour, but it didn’t matter. He was bigger than her and already poking her, and she couldn’t stop him.
It was going to get worse.
Except that Noah had seen it start and was already on his way to save her.
The boy was running as hard as he could for the fight, his eyes glued to Trevor’s back and his blood pounding through his head. That kid had been trouble since the day he moved in, and though Noah didn’t know his background—didn’t know how he’d lost his parents or ended up in the orphanage—he didn’t care. The kid had come in with an axe to grind and had already harmed several of the smaller kids.
The administrators should have done something about it, but of course they hadn’t. They were too busy, too stressed for cash, to worry about why one of their charges was hurting the little kids.
So Noah would solve the problem for them. He wouldn’t normally have gotten involved, but going after Molly was the last straw.
Trevor reached out and snapped at the strap of Molly’s new bra, then pushed her back further and took another step closer, pressing himself against the girl. Her voice went up several notches, still hurling insults at him. Telling him exactly what was going to happen to him when her friends got a hold of him.
Noah’s heart started to beat double time at that, not only because Trevor was so close to the girl but also because she was right. He was going to kill the kid. And then he was going to make sure Molly had some sort of weapon to use against anyone who tried to threaten her in the future.
He was nearly there now, and focused all his thoughts on sending her the assurance that he was on his way. Maybe twenty steps. Ten. Five.
He launched himself at Trevor’s back and hit him hard, taking them both to the ground. They rolled over and over, Noah’s hands clenched around Trevor’s neck and already squeezing. Trevor was a lot older than him, and bigger, so he needed to get this done quickly. When they stopped rolling and Trevor tried to flip, Noah sat up, straddled the bigger boy, and started swinging. Blow after blow rained down on Trevor’s head and neck, each leaving a mark, and soon Trevor was covering his head with his hands and screeching for someone to come save him.
That just made Noah hit him harder.
“It’s not nice, is it?” he asked between blows. “Not nice when someone gets the jump on you. What the fuck did you think you were doing, picking on her? It’s time you learn your place!”
“Get off!” Trevor wailed. “Get off, Noah, I’m sorry!”
It was enough to pause the blows, just for a moment, and in that moment, Trevor flipped him and got him to the ground, and the tables were turned. Noah took three punches right to the face and another to the stomach. He curled up, the pain sharp and horrible, but the blows didn’t stop. Trevor hit him again and again, in the face and chest and stomach, and Noah started to think he’d been wrong to get into this. He couldn’t get his hands in front of his face, and couldn’t get Trevor off him again.
This was bad.
Then someone else screamed and the blows suddenly stopped. When Noah opened his eyes again he saw Molly on Trevor’s back, biting his neck and clinging to him like a small, deranged monkey. He jumped up and grabbed her, and they both went sprinting for the main building of the orphanage, leaving Trevor on the ground behind them.
“You need the nurse!” Molly huffed, chugging along beside him.
“No. We’re getting you to an administrator first. You’re making a report about him and I’m backing you up. I’ll go to the nurse once they’ve heard your story.”
It was the only way they would ever believe what Trevor was doing. And if Molly was in the office with the adults, she’d be safe.
Noah wasn’t going to the nurse until he knew Molly was secure. And that was all there was to it.
I woke up breathing hard, like I’d just finished that long-ago fight. When I put my hands to my face, trying to wipe the dream away, I found my cheeks wet with tears.
Well, that was embarrassing.
I checked my bed quickly, just to make sure no one else was there to see me crying, but knew I’d come to bed alone. Molly and I had fought and I’d come straight back to the hotel, then straight to bed, just to keep myself from having to think about what had happened. The show, where Molly spent the entire time eating me up with her eyes. That fucking dance in the parking lot.
The closet.
The kisses and absolute life-stopping desire to have Molly in my arms.
The realization that I’d let her in so deep I didn’t know how to get her back out again, and that she had a stronger hold on me than I’d known. And sliding underneath that like some sort of dark river, the memory of my mother betraying me for years before I was taken by CPS and she was arrested for child abandonment and drugs.
I’d promised myself that I would never let another woman control me. And then I met Molly Rush and she wrapped her chubby, six-year-old hands around my heart. I’d thought I understood how to unwind those hands when I needed to.
I was wrong about that.
Because here I was, twenty-nine years old and a fully grown human, waking up hard and aching for my little sister and best friend, my body remembering every curve of hers as I pressed her against the wall. Her tiny frame wrapped around me and her legs open and welcoming. Hot kisses, nails tearing into my back, my name on her lips.
I groaned and let my hand creep down to my cock, massaging it up and down at the memory of how hot she’d been. Fuck, I wanted the girl. And I shouldn’t. She was my best friend, and everyone—including the band—would kill me if I touched her. Only I’d already touched her, and knew she wanted me, too.
She shouldn’t feel that way, either. I was nothing but trouble. This idea was possibly the worst I’d ever had.
So why the fuck did it feel so good?
I wrapped my fingers around my cock and started pumping up and down, and that just made it all worse. Because I was dying to have her hands on me instead of my own. That little mouth stretched around my cock while she knelt naked in front of me. I wanted to pull her up when I couldn’t stand it anymore. Lay her down in bed and spread her legs for me, then take her mouth while I entered her.
I gasped at that and came harder than I’d ever come in my life, rocking my hips and spurting up over my stomach in desperate need for the body I’d been dreaming of. But when I came back to Earth, blood rushing in my ears, I didn’t feel satisfied.
I felt guilty and dirty, like I’d crossed a line I should never have crossed.
Molly was my best friend, and was here for work. I was trying to impress the record execs and get them to give us a new contract. I couldn’t chance making another move on Molly. Couldn’t risk it all going sideways on either of us. She was so far out of reach I couldn’t even really see her.
And that was all the answer I needed.
I climbed out of bed, trying to turn my mind to the day, and stumbled toward the shower. I had that meeting with the record execs today, and I was hoping Molly would be there. I needed her support.
I hoped she could still give it to me after last night.