58. Greyson
“I’m starting to see why True stayed home with Duchess,” I mumbled when a couple zigzagged between me and Noah, chasing their kids.
“She’s writing. Plus, she’s keeping Dutch at her house until we can get our tree in a stand,” Noah said, his voice distracted as his head moved on a swivel to look at the trees we passed. “And you said no to every tree I liked. We could’ve been gone an hour ago.”
He was right.
But it was the first real tree we were getting together, and it needed to look like something.
That was my mindset when we got to the Christmas tree farm, anyway. Now that we were an hour in and I couldn’t remember what my toes felt like, I was starting to second guess my high standards.
Grabbing Noah’s hand, I led us down another row of trees, threading our fingers as much as I could through our gloves. He didn’t pull away from me, but he looked down at our hands for a split second and the thoughtful crease in his forehead was enough to get my attention.
“What?”
He slid me a glance, biting his bottom lip. “Why you so good at this?”
“Picking out trees? I don’t know, maybe because?—”
“I’m not talking about these damn trees, Grey.” He squeezed my hand, lifting it to emphasize our connection. “I’m talking about this. Us .”
Trying to scan his face for a clue, my head fell to one side. “I don’t understand the question.” Or the problem, because based on the frown claiming his face, there was a problem.
After two decades of knowing this man, I liked to think I could read every expression he gave me. But right now, I was coming up short, and not knowing was fucking with me.
“Grey, two weeks ago you were straight. Now you’re holding my hand in public.”
“You don’t like PDA?”
He looked more frustrated than upset when he shook his head at my question, trying to move away.
“Noah, it was a long day at the resort, and I can’t read your mind like usual, so can you please tell me the problem?”
“Ain’t a problem,” he muttered. “Just trying to understand.”
“Why I want to hold your hand?”
“Why it’s so easy for you when you’ve never done it before.”
“Because it’s you. I know exactly what I want when it comes to you, even though it’s something I never thought I wanted before you.” I shrugged. “That’s it. I haven’t second guessed that since you kissed me in the hallway.”
“ You kissed me. And that was only five?—”
“Stop doing that.” I grasped his chin, bringing his eyes back to mine. “Stop trying to explain why I shouldn’t be this comfortable with you yet. I’ve known you for twenty years, Noah. I accepted what we were before I ever touched you.”
Noah’s brow quirked and the corner of his mouth twitched with a suppressed grin. His voice was teasing when he asked, “What are we, Grey?”
“You’re mine.”
Whatever he was going to say died on his tongue. He stared at me, unblinking and finally licked his lips before his quiet question. “I’m yours?”
With my hands gripping the front of his coat, I pulled him into me until his mouth was close enough to kiss. “Yea, Noah. Mine. At least that’s what you told me when you came for me last night.”
He let out a huff, staring into my eyes with a dazed look.
“And for the record, I wasn’t straight two weeks ago. Two weeks ago, I was wondering what your lips felt like. Now I know.”
Leaning back, I shifted my gaze and focused on the beanie confining his thick hair instead of his eyes. If I kept looking at him, I would kiss him. And if I kissed him, we would both need treatment for hypothermia because once I started kissing Noah, I didn’t know how to stop. It didn’t matter where we were.
Another fleeting look at his mouth and I shook my head.
Breaking the spell, I eyed the tree closest to us and said, “If you’re done with your questions, I’m going to find somebody to cut and bale this tree. We’re going home. I can’t feel my fucking feet.”
All we did was get the tree in the tree stand before I was on Noah.
We washed our hands side by side in the kitchen sink, then I was grabbing the back of his neck. Stamping my mouth over his. Pushing him against the wall.
Kissing him.
Licking him.
Tasting him.
I yanked off every layer he had on.
Coat.
Hat.
Scarf.
With his help, everything on me disappeared in the same order.
Without speaking, we moved closer to his room, both of us kicking our shoes off in the hall.
We fell into his bed, kissing and tugging at what remained of each other’s clothes.
My shirt.
His pants.
My belt.
All of it landed on the floor in a pile before I pinned Noah beneath me, sucking and branding his neck.
Then my lips sought out his again.
My tongue twisted around his.
My moans crashed into his.
My dick was hard against his.
It stole all of my attention.
I wanted his hands on me, wrapped around both of us while I fucked against his palm.
Just like we had last night.
Yet I still had too many clothes on. Too many things between us.
“Noah,” I panted.
It was all I had to say before he flipped us over and he rose to his knees on top of me.
My pants.
His shirt.
My boxers.
I blinked and they were finally gone. My dick was free and bounced once against my lower stomach, warm precum dripping from the tip.
“Lube,” I grunted, thrusting against nothing, desperate for his dick on mine but all he did was hover. Just out of reach. Smirking at me. Teasing me.
“Noah…baby.”
“Stop topping me from the bottom.”
I wound my hips again, ignoring his words and relief washed over me when I heard his nightstand drawer open.
My dick was so hard it ached until he touched me. The pressure was minimal, but the relief it gave me made me grind harder into his hand.
“Take off your boxers.”
The bottle of lube landed on the bed beside me with a soft thud. Noah eased up, still on top of me as he followed my order.
Then his dick hit my thigh, heavy and hot against my skin.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, his facade cracking when he felt us together.
He threw his head back and I rolled on top of him, wrapping my hands around his waist so he was flush against me. So his dick was touching mine. So his heart was beating against mine.
I kissed the fuck out of him while he was pinned beneath me, whimpers falling from his lips and his hips desperate to move freely.
“You taste so fucking good, Noah.” Some days, I felt like I could get off on kissing him. But I was too greedy to test that theory. Too needy for his dick to deny myself the feel of it when it was my new obsession. “Fuck, you feel good.” I pressed into him, pushing my dick against his until he hissed out my name.
“Grey, please.” His face fell into a frown. “Fuck, I need more.”
Freeing one hand from under him, I grabbed the lube and popped the top.
“Give me your hand,” I said hoarsely.
Noah’s palm was up and coated in lube in no time.
Still panting beneath me, he rubbed his hands together, warming the lube and staring into my eyes.
He looked intoxicated. Desperate and needy. His teeth battered his bottom lip as his lids fluttered lower and lower.
Then he was reaching between us. His hand wrapped around my dick first, stroking me until I whimpered and then fisting both of us in his tight hold.
My dick grew harder against his and I started moving my hips on instinct. I needed the friction, craved the connection.
Planting my hands on the mattress above his shoulders, I pumped into his fist.
I could feel every ridge of his dick. Every twitch.
I kissed him hard, moaning when his hips started moving too.
I’d spent the whole hour-long drive home thinking about this. And now that I had it, I didn’t want it to end. But I couldn’t stop moving.
I couldn’t slow down. Because I wanted to come for him and I wanted him to come for me too.
I was addicted to the mess we made when we came together, and my chest tightened just thinking about it.
“Fuck, Noah.” I lost all my finesse when I was on top of him. I humped him with frantic thrusts of my hips, my need outweighing everything, consumed with how good he felt.
He was perfect. This was…fuck.
My spine tingled with the beginnings of my orgasm, but I stopped moving in time to chase it away.
Barely.
Because Noah’s hands were still on me. His moans were still vibrating against my chest. And his dick was still on mine.
I clamped my eyes shut, trying to block out the sensations.
It didn’t work. I was helpless when it came to Noah. I was helpless to do anything but fall apart for him even though it felt like we just started.
My breath caught in my throat. My chest tightened. My muscles bunched.
Shit.
I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t move.
Couldn’t talk.
But I managed to moan something that sounded like “I’m coming” before I erupted in his hands.
I kissed Noah through it, my hips finding a rhythm again when I realized he was coming too.
I didn’t have enough breath in my lungs and still I kissed him.
I kissed him until his cum was painted against our stomachs and his moans turned into whimpers against my lips. Until he grabbed the side of my face and kissed me so hard, my body shook against his, still emptying my seed while he jerked beneath me.
I didn’t care how sticky we were when I grabbed his hips and ground against him again. “I went my whole life without that and now I feel like I always need it. What the fuck did you do to me, Noah?”
He blinked up at me, his energy zapped and his smile lazy.
So many words wanted to rush past my lips.
I love you.
I want to give you and True and Duchess the whole fucking world.
I never want you to move out because I never want this to end.
I would do anything for you.
But he was falling asleep right before my eyes and the words found their way back inside for now.
Kissing the corner of his mouth, I got off of him and walked into his bathroom to get a towel. I turned on the water and cleaned myself up before wetting one of his towels with warm water and heading back to his room.
He tried to grab the towel, but I moved out of his reach, cleaning him up while my eyes roamed over his tattooed body.
He was already half asleep two seconds after we got under the cover.
“Good night, Noah.” I brushed my lips against his shoulder.
“Night, Grey.”
That night, I fell asleep spooning him and in his bed for the first time.