Chapter Ten Noah
Chapter Ten
Noah
Sweat trickles down Goldie’s smooth back as my fingers draw a line between her shoulder blades until my hand wraps around the nape of her neck, holding her in place as I fuck her from behind.
“Fuck, killer. You feel so good.”
She’s breathless, face down, her bottom lifted as she grips the sheets. It’s gorgeous.
I thrust inside, stretching her with a steady, torturous rhythm. I’m hitting her G-spot each time my thick length bottoms out, sealing the front of my pelvis against the softness of her ass.
“Please,” she moans. “Noah, I want to come.”
My voice is guttural and raw. “Not yet.” I grip her hip as she tries to circle it. “Uh-uh. I said we’re fucking longer.”
I know it’s sensation overload. We’ve been at it for long enough to feel like two live wires. Every inch of her skin is so sensitive to my touch that she can’t stop writhing, her body begging for her release.
The sound of her breath huffs out each time my body rolls my cock in and out of her welcoming warmth. She contracts herself around me each time, cradling my shaft inside her, rubbing our flesh torturously.
“Noah,” she whines, “oh god.”
She snakes a hand between her legs, touching herself, gasping as her body ignites, but I pull out to the tip, making her suck in a breath over the loss.
My deep, gravelly baritone rips out of me as I grip her hair harder, forcing her chin to the mattress. “You want to come so bad . . . Don’t cheat, ask me nicely, killer.”
A smile lifts the corners of her lips before she licks her dry lips.
“May I come . . . please.” Her voice strained and needy.
I smirk. “What my baby wants, my baby gets.”
The instant I let her go, I pound into her, fucking her so hard her body jostles against the bed. Goldie’s mouth falls open as shuddered cries escape. But I hold her prisoner, in place, barely able to catch my own breath as everything inside begins tightening.
All the mangled, garbled words fall from our mouths like rain from the sky, pooling around us like a symphony of sex as we climb higher and higher. Bodies contracted. Eyes squeezed shut. One of her fists is balled in the sheets, the other hand rubbing herself in all the right places.
“Noah!” she screams long and hard into the bed, convulsing. Coming.
My thick cock draws out, dredging my cum from the softness of her cunt before hammering it back inside. She’s cresting over her bliss as my fingers dig into her hip.
The sound of my voice spills over her, gutted and full of the edge she’s come to crave. “Oh fuck. Baby. Fuck, fuck, fuck . . .”
I still, jaw tense, stomach hollow before filling her with my lust. My body gives growing slack, more and more, until I’m folded over hers and we’re both a puddle of entangled, sated bliss.
“Stay the night,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
She nods, her voice barely working. “’Kay.”
The warmth of Goldie’s bare back melts into me as we spoon, my discarded blanket still caught between our legs.
“Let’s never leave this bed,” I say between peppering kisses to her salty skin.
I can hear the smile riding on the hum of her laugh before she wiggles, scooching around to look at me. Her elbow rests on my shoulder as she weaves her fingers through my messy hair.
“Actually, I was just thinking you should come over for dinner.”
I scowl. “I thought we were staying here.”
“I don’t mean tonight.”
“You should be dinner,” I whisper before kissing her neck. “And dessert.”
She squirms when I get to a ticklish spot, so I hold her close. But she pulls my face to hers using my hair.
“How about next Wednesday?” She’s being persistent.
My fingertips run down the curves of her naked body, knowing exactly where this conversation is heading, so I take a detour.
“Wait. A. Minute,” I say dramatically. “We’re not eating for a week? You’re just gonna stay here and let me fuck us to death? I like it.”
She chuckles before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Will you be serious? I really want you to come over for New Year’s Eve.”
I groan, my palm engulfing her hip as I push her away, extricating myself to sit with my back to her.
“Killer, I don’t know . . . We talked about this. Chase expects me to come to the restaurant. I’m sure your parents just want to see you, since they flew all the way in for Christmas.”
When I look over my shoulder, Goldie is sitting back on her haunches, pulling my T-shirt over her pert breasts.
“Noah,” she says so sweetly it makes me mad at myself. “My parents are dying to meet you. That’s why they flew all the way in. I talk about you all the time. Why don’t you want to? Do you feel like we’re moving too fast? Are you wanting to slow down?”
God, no.
“No, Goldie—” I start, but she touches my shoulder, cutting me off, before I feel her chin rest on it.
“Is this because you’re an onion?”
“An onion?” I chuckle, using the blanket to cover myself as I shift to look at her. “What does that mean?”
Goldie grins, playing with a strand of her hair.
“It means you have layers, Noah Adler. And they all need peeling. You’re always so quick with a head nod to answer any question.
Or a dreamy stare that makes everyone forget what they even asked.
You’re definitely a man of few words. Which means getting to all the good stuff takes time .
. . and work. So, I think, just maybe, a ‘meet the Monroes’ is making you feel a little too vulnerable? ”
“Ooo,” I grunt, putting my hand over my heart, hating and loving that this is her opinion.
After all, true happiness is being seen . . . That is, unless you’re trying to hide.
I smirk, reaching for her waist. “First off, onions make people cry and give them indigestion. I demand a new vegetable before this conversation goes any further.”
She bites her bottom lip, trying not to fall for my charm. Good luck, killer. I’m laying it on thick.
“Onion,” I scoff, grinning and instantly captivated as I watch her mouth work into a pursed seduction before she frowns like she’s deep in thought. But when I open my mouth to speak again, her finger presses to it so she can take the floor.
“Artichoke,” she says resolutely.
I can only raise my eyebrows, urging her to elaborate because she won’t let me breathe.
“Because it’s layered, good for you . . . and the heart’s the best part.”
The way she’s looking at me—a little unsure with an equal measure of hopeful—makes my chest want to cave in.
Goldie gives a little shrug. “Does that get me to the second thing you were going to say? Because you said, ‘First off.’”
I circle her wrist and drag it away from my mouth as we stare at each other until I break the silence. Finally, being serious.
“Killer, I’m not scared of your parents asking me questions. Even though I hate talking about myself. And it’s not that I don’t want to meet them . . .”
“So then why won’t you come?” she rushes out.
But I have to look away from her because sometimes she makes me feel so exposed that I’m not sure I can say what I need to.
“Because you scare the shit out of me, Goldie. You make me want shit I didn’t think I could have.”
My eyes lift to her frown. She’s not understanding, so I reach up and cradle her face. “They mean so much to you. And I guess I haven’t made it obvious enough, but you mean so much to me already. I’m falling for you every day, more and more. So, if I fuck this up . . .”
She throws her arms around my neck, knocking us back down on the bed as she rushes out her words. “You won’t. I promise.”
Her hair is wild, draped down around us as her eyes stay locked to mine.
“Say you’ll come. Make it my belated Christmas miracle.”
The smile always hiding in wait when I’m around her comes into view. Who the hell am I kidding? There’s no reality where I say no to her. Even if it turns me into a liar.
“Okay. Okay,” I gripe, pretending to be exasperated. “I’ll come”—my hand slips between her legs—“but only after you do . . . twice.”
“Stop being so nervous.”
“Easy for you to say. They already like you.”
Goldie stares up at me in the hallway just inside her door, her bright-green eyes lit with humor as I let out a long, audible exhale and adjust my shirt collar, feeling like I’m suffocating.
She grins, running her hands over my ribs and around my back, hugging me.
“Relax. You’re going to do great. I thought you said you felt better after your talk with Chase yesterday?”
I rest my chin on her head.
“It was more like ‘Desperate times happily accepts desperate measures.’”
She laughs, but I grimace thinking back on his advice while telling her about it.
“Noah, listen to me. To secure the bag—the bag being G—you have to win the dad over.”
“Please don’t refer to my girlfriend as ‘the bag.’ That’s just . . . no . . . immediately stop.”
“Don’t be such a Chad,” he throws out with way too much middle schoolgirl sass before he postures like he’s done something cool. “Taylor Swift says that. My niece told me. She calls me ‘guncle’—it means ‘greatest uncle.’”
My head falls back as I rub my hands down my cheeks. This was the worst idea I’ve ever had. Why would I ask him for advice?
“That’s not what that means.”
“Okay, Chad . . . Anyway, back to my point. Because you look like a professional de-virginizer, you’re gonna have to make him love you.”
My head snaps back up. “What the fuck are you talking about? What’s wrong with the way I look?”
He takes one of the cookies I bought to take to Goldie’s, then smells it, looking like he’s been poisoned. “Did you make these? Are you trying to kill them?” It’s tossed back into the container. “I’ll make a dessert for you. Stop with the cry for help.”
“It’s from the grocery store, asshole. Can you stay on point? What’s wrong with how I look?”
He chuckles. “An unaware king, how cliché. What I mean is if I were her dad, I’d hide my wife. You’re like every woman’s wet dream with the motorcycle, the blue eyes, and the tattoos. You know what . . . Maybe flirt with the mom?”
“Chase. This isn’t helping. I want them to like me.”