Chapter 15 Noa
The door clicked behind us, and I exhaled a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.
I couldn’t believe Shawn had popped up over my house and pulled this mess.
He’d been calling me like crazy since the day I’d asked him to leave my house when I was painting.
I had a feeling I’d be seeing him again, but I never thought he’d throw a bag of food at me.
Even raising his voice at me in public was out of character.
He’d never gotten that aggressive with me before.
“That was a lot.” I sighed. My hands were shaking, not from fear, but from the adrenaline of the moment.
“You good?” Quade asked again. He lingered near the door like he wasn’t sure if I wanted him to leave or lock it. Hell, I wasn’t even sure what I wanted him to do.
“I’m fine.” That was a lie. My heart was pounding, and I could feel a small tinge of pain creeping up in my joints. His eyes dropped to the flowers still clutched in my lap.
“Let me put those in some water for you.” He stepped into the hallway, grabbed the bouquet off my lap, and carried it into the kitchen.
“There’s a vase in the third cabinet to the left,” I instructed him, and he retrieved it. He filled the vase with the flowers and water and set it on my table.
“Thank you.”
“Are you hurting?” He nodded toward the hand I was flexing, slowing, and attempting to soothe.
“No, just nerves.” I lied again. He stared at me suspiciously before making his way to the door.
“Is there anything I can do for you before I head out?” Don’t head out. That thought caught me off guard. I wasn’t ready for our nearly perfect night to end. I wasn’t ready for him to be out of my presence.
“Can you stay?”
His brows lifted like he wasn’t expecting me to say that. “You sure?”
“I just… I don’t know. After all that, I don’t really want to be here alone.” It wasn’t like I feared Shawn returning tonight, but the thought of Quade leaving bothered me. “Just for a little bit.”
He stared at me like he was fighting against himself before nodding his head.
“Just let me go clean up the mess outside, then we can chill a minute.” The door closed behind him, and I sat there, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d just asked this man to stay, and he’d agreed.
This whole night felt like something from my old life, the one I thought I’d never get back.
Presenting at a gallery, going on an impromptu date, a fine man walking me into my house.
It all felt surreal, like I wasn’t broken.
The door creaked, and Quade stepped back inside, the takeout bag and plastic container Shawn had thrown dangling from his hands. He tossed them in the trash can by the door like they didn’t matter and turned to me with the sexiest look on his face.
“Alright, the mess is cleaned up. I’m all yours.” He locked the door behind him and stepped fully inside. His eyes roamed the space as if it was his first time entering. I stared back at him, still trying to massage the cramp out of my hand, using the motions to calm my nerves.
“You sure you good?” he asked, voice softer now. “You keep doin’ that with your hand.”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Just… a little tight.”
He stared at me suspiciously, but he didn’t call me on my lie. “Where you wanna be?” he asked. “Bedroom? Couch?”
“The couch is fine. I don’t think you’re ready for my bedroom, Mr. Quade.”
“Nah, I don’t think you’re ready to have me in your bedroom, Miss Green,” he replied, making me smirk. If this man did or said anything else with that big dick energy, I was going to climb his tree. Watching him snatch up Shawn already had my pussy purring for him.
“Let me clear a spot real quick.” He glanced toward the living room, then back at me, and I nodded.
My living room was a construction mess. Drop cloths and tool bags he’d placed there mostly covered it.
I watched as he cleared a small space at the end of the couch, folding a blanket over the backrest and scooting some painting supplies to the far corner.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. I wheeled myself over without another word.
“You want help?”
I hesitated for half a second because I hated needing help, but Quade did something to that quiet strength. I nodded.
“Yeah. Just… grab the push handles. I’ll transfer once I’m lined up.”
He didn’t hesitate, just stepped behind me and gently turned the chair toward the couch. I leaned forward, bracing my hands on the frame.
“Take your time,” he said quietly. I did, and when I settled onto the cushion, he grabbed the cup I’d left from earlier and disappeared into the kitchen. When he came back, he handed me a glass of water and lowered himself onto the couch next to me.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the cup and taking a sip.
He nodded. “You want anything else? Blanket, pain meds, heating pad?”
“You tryna be my nurse now?”
“I’m tryna be whatever you need me to be tonight.”
I laughed, not because what he said was funny, but because it made me nervous and hot all at once.
“You wanna watch something?” he asked, running his hand down his beard awkwardly. He was trying his best to be a gentleman. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to be, though.
“You tryna distract me or distract yourself?”
“Maybe both. It depends.”
I looked at him, and our eyes met. I could see that line we’d been teetering on since day one start to blur. Quade was looking at me like he could already taste me, and the feeling was mutual. So, I did something I hadn’t done in a long time. I took charge of the situation.
“You know,” I said, my voice a little shaky. “You owe me a long, lingering kiss good night.” My whole body heated as soon as the words left my lips. Did I really just say that? Quade looked at me, and his eyes dipped low.
“You makin’ it real hard to be respectful, beautiful. You want a gentleman, or you want me buried so deep in you it eases every ache you got?”
My breath hitched.
“You different, Noa, unlike any woman I’ve ever encountered,” he added, his eyes locked on mine. “I’m tryna handle you different.”
I swallowed. Now my panties were wet. I was no longer in control.
“Maybe I don’t want to be. Maybe I just want to be handled like a slut and then held with care.” I leaned in and placed my lips on his before quickly pulling back. His hand found the side of my face, and he pulled me back into his lips. I shifted closer and pressed my palm to his chest.
“Hold on,” he said against my mouth. “We ain’t gotta—”
“I know,” I cut him off and climbed into his lap slowly, carefully, easing one leg across his thighs until I was straddling him. I settled in, mindful of the flare threatening to rise in my joints. His hands hovered near my waist like he wasn’t sure what to do.
“I want this,” I whispered. “I don’t want to feel fragile. I want you to bury yourself inside me, like you would do any other beautiful woman sitting on your lap.”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with being fragile, baby. The right hand will know how to protect your softness and unravel you at the same time.” My breath hitched, and I could see the moment all the restraint left his body, and his hands finally found my hips. “Can I unravel you, Noa baby?”
“Yes.” I rolled my hips in his lap.
“Tell me if anything feels uncomfortable,” he said, voice low, fingers brushing under my shirt and caressing my nipples. “You say stop, we stop. All the way. Got me?”
“Got you.”
“In fact, pick a word. Something random. You say it, I stop automatically.”
“Like a safe word?” I narrowed my eyes at him. The way he handled me was mesmerizing.
“Yeah, like a safe word,” he confirmed. It only took me a second to think before I was blurting out the first thing that came to my head.
“Tempo.”
“Tempo?” he repeated, and I nodded. “You say it, and I stop.”
“Okay.” We kissed again, deeper this time. One hand slid up my back, the other down my thigh, gripping gently, like he knew how much I could handle. Heat pooled low in my belly, and his lips left mine to trail down my jaw, to the curve of my neck.
“Ooh!” My head fell back, and a breathy moan escaped my lips. His fingers found the hem of my dress that was already rolling over my thick thighs.
“Can I?” he asked, and I nodded as he peeled it up slowly, mindful of my limitations.
I raised my arms as he lifted the fabric over my head.
When it cleared my head, my arms dropped back down to my side.
He just stared at me. His eyes roamed over my lupus scars, not with pity, but with awe, like he was seeing a new side of me he loved.
“Damn, you so fucking beautiful.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the scar near my collarbone, then another along my shoulder, where this disease had made its permanent impression on my body.
“I want to know all there is to know about you, Noa.” He continued laying a trail of kisses down my body.
He didn’t avoid the parts of me I was most insecure about.
It was like he was worshipping them, worshipping me.
I let my body relax into him in a way it hadn’t in years, and suddenly, I reached beneath me for his zipper.
The bulge in his pants had been speaking to me all night, and I was ready to free him.
He assisted me in undoing his zipper, and with one swift motion, he lifted me just enough to slide his pants and boxers to his ankles.
My eyes traveled to his dick so fast I was almost ashamed.
Damn. My mouth watered as he gripped himself.
It was thick, veiny, beautiful, and ready for me.
The saying eyes bigger than your belly definitely rang true here because I didn’t know how my sickly ass was about to take all of that.
He paused, eyes flicking around like he was looking for something. A wrapper, maybe. A warning.
“I’m on birth control,” I said softly, lifting my arm to show the faint bump beneath my skin. “Implant. I’m good.”
He nodded, then held up his phone, showing his MyChart. “Clean,” he said. “Got checked last month, just in case you ever… let me get this close.”
My laugh caught in my throat. “You planned ahead?”
“For you?” he murmured, dipping closer. “Always.”
“I can grab my phone and show you my results.” I attempted to move, but he held me there.
“You don’t gotta move. I trust you. You sure?” he asked as he hoovered me over his dick. “I meant what I said. One word from you, I stop. Use the safe word.” I nodded, already breathless. His thumb brushed my lips. “Say it.”
“Tempo.”
“Good girl.” His lips pressed against mine. “Now open up for me, beautiful.”
And I did just that as he slid me slowly down onto his manhood. My mouth opened for him like she was heat.
“Ooh!” I let out a moan as he pushed in deep.
“You good?” He checked in, and I nodded. My words were caught somewhere between my pussy and my throat.
“I need to hear you say it, beautiful. I need to know I’m not hurting you.”
“You’re not hurting me.”
He was deep. My insides were stretched to capacity, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It wasn’t too much. He was filling me just right, like he was made for me. I loved how his hands guided my hips, how he slowly fed me inch by inch. He let me lead. He let me find a rhythm that didn’t hurt.
“Fuck! Noa…” He groaned. “You feel like perfection.” He rocked into me from below. It was the first time in a long time that I didn’t feel broken. Nah, in his arms, I didn’t feel sick. I felt wanted. I rolled my hips, matching his rhythm.
“Oooh, fu—ck!”
“Mmmmhmm.”
Every stroke he made into my middle felt deliberate, like he was learning my body, learning every nook and cranny to hit to drive me crazy.
I’d forgotten what it felt like to be fucked so good.
I was floating. The way I was going to be rolling around after this man wasn’t even funny.
My head fell back and then forward, resting on his shoulder as the pleasure consumed me.
“You good?” he whispered, kissing my temple.
“Perfect.” I gasped. “Don’t stop.”
“I got you.” He kissed the side of my face.
“That’s it, Noa. Ride me just like that. You feel so fuckin’ good.”
“Quade… Oh my God!” I gasped, pressing my forehead to his. My thighs trembled on top of him. I was about to explode. “I’m cumming!”
“You wet me, you mine.” He slid one hand up to the back of my neck and held me in place. “You hear me, Noa?”
“Yes!” My body jerked against his, and my insides clenched tight around him as I let go.
“Good girl! Give it to me!” I felt him expanding inside me. He was following me over the edge, groaning low into my neck. His body shook beneath me, and he pulled out, allowing his semen to coat my belly.
“Fuck!” He grunted, pulling me in closer. We stayed like that for a minute, allowing our breathing to return to normal.
“You okay?”
“More than okay.”
He glanced down at my legs still shivering, and worry flashed across his face. “You sure? I don’t want you cramping up.”
“I’m good,” I whispered. “But I think you might have to carry me.”
“I was going to do that anyway.” He grinned as he slowly stood to his feet with me in tow. “Let’s get you to bed.”
I curled into him as he carried me down the hall to my dimly lit bedroom.
I couldn’t think straight. I was still on a high.
I barely even noticed when he set me gently on the bed, pulled the comforter up over me, and slid in beside me.
I should have felt nervous, should have been in my head about what we’d just done, about what this meant, but I wasn’t.
Nope, I was lifting up and resting my head on his chest.
“This feels right, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” I replied, and he wrapped his arms around me.
The last thing I felt was his lips on my temple as I dozed off to sleep.
The world outside faded. Nothing else seemed to matter.
There was only him and me, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was just surviving. I felt like I was living.