Chapter Fifteen Goldie
Chapter Fifteen
Goldie
Noah drops the last of the moving boxes by the front door, then wipes his brow with the bottom of his T-shirt, exposing that perfectly chiseled stomach of his.
Damn, my man is fine.
“We already got some mail.” He motions to an envelope on top of the box and grins as I objectify him from our new kitchen before stripping himself of the shirt altogether, reading me too well. “Is that what you want?”
“Oh yeah. Give it to me, baby,” I tease back.
That is what I want because honestly, he’s legitimately mouthwatering. At least, that’s what mine’s doing as I watch him become the most effective ad for hiring movers.
It’d be a billion-dollar industry if tatted, shirtless men built like gods showed up to pack your boxes.
The number of women who’d move on a weekly basis would be staggering.
There really is a missed opportunity for someone to have a business named Dick and a Box, with a motto “All the Richards you need to pack your comings and goings.”
I smile over my dirty joke, still glancing at him as I open the fridge and pull out a bottle of champagne. I ran out to buy it after he called with his news today.
I’ve been waiting to open it until after Chase and Evie left.
Which was about five minutes ago, when she almost killed him for asking why people win Oscars for special effects.
However, the silver lining to the almost-homicide is that now Noah and I can celebrate without our new place getting taped off as a crime scene.
“Hey, you . . . fancy-pants shoe designer,” I call from across the open-floor plan, holding up the bottle. “It’s time to celebrate.”
His head tilts before he looks adorably embarrassed while scratching over the skull taking up real estate on his rib cage. “I haven’t even gotten it yet.”
He’s a rottweiler with a golden retriever heart . . . How did I get so lucky?
I position the thick bottom of the bottle on my tummy before I push the cork with both thumbs, straining my words. “But you’re going to.”
The pop makes my shoulders jump as I squeal because the champagne bubbles over the bottle, cascading onto the floor and countertop with a flourish.
“Oh my god.” I look around for something to help stop it. “I guess we’re christening the whole place . . . shit.”
Noah weaves around all our shit, grinning as he jogs to me, but as soon as he’s close, I think Fuck it and shake the bottle, making it erupt all over again as I aim it at him.
“Soak it in, stud. This is your moment.”
“Oh, you fucked up,” he bellows, putting his hand in front of him before he wraps his other around my waist and lifts me off the ground.
Laughter bounds between us as he plops my ass up onto the counter and settles himself between my legs, the fizzing bottle clunking against the granite.
We’re staring at each other, covered in champagne, drops of it making my eyelashes heavy.
But no matter the mess, we’ve got matching grins, and it feels like time’s slowed down around us to just Noah and me in a bubble of us, where it’s quiet and we’re the only two people who exist to have ever been in love.
I lift the bottle and bring two of my fingers to his lips, urging them to part so I can let him take a drink. But he circles my wrist before the flat of his warm tongue laves between the seam of them, licking the champagne off.
Damn.
“How’s it taste?”
Noah gently steals the bottle and juts his chin for me to put my head back. “Open and find out.”
I press my palms against the wet counter, my back arching as I tilt my head back and part my lips. He lifts the almost-empty bottle above my head, and I glance at him before only a drop falls on my tongue.
“I think,” he says in his deep gravel, and a smile graces my waiting mouth as he smirks, “that it tastes a lot like champagne”—Noah grabs the front of my shorts and tugs them open—“and not enough like you.”
Bubbles spill past my lips, straight past the center of my body to my underwear.
“Oh my god,” I squeal, my stomach contracting from the cold, but he grabs the back of my neck and pulls me into a kiss, silencing me.
We’re already getting sticky as our bodies crash into each other. My arms wrap around his rib cage as I hook my ankles above his ass.
“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he breathes out, cradling my face roughly.
“I love you,” I whisper, tilting my head to deepen our kiss as his hand comes to my throat.
His tongue teases mine as it pushes into my mouth, domineering the moment. I moan, feeling my body sag.
Noah uses his thumb to force my chin up as he licks my neck, dragging the strap of my tank down my shoulder to assault me with his lips there too.
“I fucking love you too, killer.”
He hums into my wet skin before leaning over me, engulfing me and forcing me backward. I let go of him, walking my hands back on the counter and lowering my body onto the wet surface, our mouths never parting.
Our lips grow more urgent as the sounds of our breath mingle. I gasp as he breaks away to kiss down my chin to my collarbone, and his deft fingers do the work of unbuttoning my jean shorts.
I drag my arms above my head, tickling my body, ready to be devoured, but when I straighten my arms, the skin sticks, peeling away from where it was bent.
“Wait,” I giggle, my head popping up, our eyes connecting. “We’re all sticky. Let’s do it in the shower.”
Noah narrows his eyes, his words taking on a fake grumpy growl as he jerks my shorts and panties off and spreads my legs. “Baby, I’m hungry. Let me eat.”
I cover my face, a loud laugh bursting from my chest that’s instantly transformed into a deep guttural gasp because Noah’s mouth seals over my center, all the warmth of his mouth bleeding onto my sensitive clit.
“Oh my god,” I exhale, mouth hung open.
The sensation of his wet mouth mixed with my lust makes my eyes roll back and my back arch off the surface. I moan as his head twists, his tongue teasing me like he did in my mouth. One of my legs bends, brushing the side of his body as I weave my fingers through his hair.
Fuck. Noah always manages to touch every button at the same time, making me unravel for him.
Strong arms snake under my thighs, wrapping around my hips like he’s giving me a hug as he makes out with my wanting cunt, humming into it and sucking my clit gently.
“You taste so fucking good, killer.”
“Noah,” I pant, my body writhing more. “Don’t stop. Please.”
He growls, pressing his face into me, inhaling between the soft hairs on my pussy before he licks in between the crease. I gasp again as he uses his finger to spread me wider, speaking illicit words into existence.
“I want to taste you all over my face.”
Jesus. How is he so barbaric, loving, and feral all at the same time?
He is the delicious epitome of good fucking sex.
“Oh god,” I breathe out as he kisses my cunt again and again.
My chest rises and falls quickly, my fingernails scratching against the island. But Noah holds me firmer, eating me out as if it’s his only job in life.
“Fuck. Noah.” Mewls spill from my lips and I grip his head harder, rocking myself into him.
His tongue never stops. It’s an onslaught of pleasure, licking and teasing, moving faster and faster as my hips roll.
“Oh god.”
“Mmmm,” he growls, gripping my thighs to keep them spread.
Oh god, it feels like the perfect torture. I want to close them around his head and grind myself against his mouth, but he’s keeping me at his mercy.
My palm slaps the counter. “Noah, fuck . . . I’m gonna come. Oh god.”
He’s growling, eating me, massaging his tongue over my clit as I breathe harder, panting audibly. My moans gather into a choral string of lust until all at once every muscle in my body tenses and I suck in an all-consuming breath and come.
A belly-deep scream rips from my lungs until my breath is wasted and I’m forced to inhale, thrusting my back to the counter as my head pops up.
“Oh god” floats out breathlessly.
Noah kisses my swollen clit gently, his touch growing softer as my body puts itself back together. I lay my head back again, my eyes closing as I feel him move back up my body, peppering it with his lips over and under my top as I shiver.
He pulls the front of my damp tank down, exposing my breast, the nipple hard and pebbled, begging for his mouth. He softly runs his tongue over it, sucking gently before it grows harder, making me whimper with pleasure.
I’m still catching my breath, but my body’s heating up all over again as I fall down the lust-filled rabbit hole he’s providing.
I open my eyes, hazily locking to his just as he leaves my breast and palms it before he seals his mouth over mine. My weak arms drape over his shoulders as we kiss, slowly and intimately.
Noah runs his hand down my leg, guiding it around his body, never breaking our kiss before he slips his other under my back and lifts me from the kitchen island.
He’s holding my rear with one hand, and the other’s anchored to the back of my neck as his head tilts, our tongues dancing and swirling.
My long hair tickles his forearms as he carries me around the island, passion and that same kind of lustful desperation we share still exploding between us. I wrap my arms tighter around his neck, feeling him grow between my wrapped legs as I press my breasts against him.
“Noah, I want you,” I whisper between kisses, needing him inside me like I need air.
The moment we hit the bedroom, he kicks the door open and heads straight for the bathroom. But he doesn’t let me go. It’s as if we can’t get enough—not of the way our lips are bruised or the way our bodies grind.
My fingers weave through his hair, mussing it up as we grow wilder by the second. He’s devouring the moans and whimpers coming from my lips as I hold on to him.
“I want you so bad,” I whine into his mouth.
“Down,” he grinds out, and my feet hit the tile.