Chapter 21 Maya
MAYA
Somehow, I slipped past him. Maybe he was too caught up in weighing the fallout—his trust, his mistake in letting me in.
I bolted before he could see the tears break loose, before he saw me fall apart. And he just stood there by the door. Too calm, like he knew how this would end.
I threw my bag onto the passenger seat and fumbled with the keys. The engine roared to life, and I was gone, my pulse a frantic drumbeat.
Fat, heavy drops of rain slammed against the windshield as I sped down the road. I told myself I was in control. That this was my choice. That leaving was the only way to keep him safe.
Then, headlights flashed in my mirror.
Noah’s truck.
He pushed his engine harder, closing in, relentless. My heart lodged itself somewhere in my throat, but I didn’t slow down. I couldn’t.
Then came a bend in the road.
A break in the storm.
His truck veered, cutting me off with a move so precise and so fucking skillful that I had no choice but to slam on the brakes. The car skidded, the tires shrieking against wet pavement, and then…stillness.
I shoved the door open, stepping into the downpour, gasping, furious, and shaking. At least the rain would hide my tears.
Before I could say a word, he was there.
“You can’t just leave like this!” he exclaimed. “You owe me at least the truth.”
I hadn’t forgotten what he’d done for me. He’d pulled me from the brink. Literally. He’d held me like I was the only thing that mattered. And trusted me when I’d given him every reason not to.
No one had ever come that close.
And he was right. He deserved the truth.
“I did it for a girl, Noah. A little girl who otherwise would’ve died,” I muttered, my voice trembling.
The rain kept coming, slicking his hair, soaking his shirt, and pelting his lids. But he didn’t move. He just stood there, watching me like he was trying to make sense of everything at once.
And maybe…he did.
Because a second later, he stepped in.
One hand caught my arm. The other found my waist.
And then his mouth was on mine. The contact was earnest, like he couldn’t hold back. He wrapped himself around every part of me, no halfway. As if he’d decided that, no matter what I’d done, I was still worth holding on to.
The storm howled, thunder breaking fiercely over the valley, like the heat on my lips. Noah kissed me like a man who’d lost too much already, and I kissed him back like destruction was the only language I spoke.
But this moment wouldn’t break me. Even if I had no clue what it meant.
“I want you as you are, Maya.” His voice was raw, his forehead pressed against mine.
“I’ve left too many times. Let go too many times.
Sometimes, I had no choice. Sometimes, I regretted it.
But you?” He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands framing my face like I was something worth holding on to.
“I’d curse myself for the rest of my life if I let you go. ”
How do you say no to a man like that?
Noah Lucas.
More than a cowboy. More than an ex-media flirt. More than a waltz partner or a man who pulled me from a landslide.
He was the first man who ever made me feel wanted. Never a mistake. Even my mother hadn’t granted me that. Not since that day.
He hurt hard, and I knew that. So how could I let myself be the one to cause it?
And maybe that was why I cracked, hopeless, cornered, and seconds from exploding.
I pressed into him, my body greedy and aching. The thick ridge of him against my jeans made my pulse tumble.
Being in prison at eighteen had cut short a lot of things, like my freedom, my future, and my chance at knowing what real intimacy felt like. But I’d had others. Fast hands. Quick scrambles. All experiments, zero emotion. I’d never let it mean anything.
But this? This was different.
Noah was like the forbidden apple finally hitting my tongue. And suddenly, I knew.
I fumbled with his jeans, the fabric soaked and stiff, clinging to him. I didn’t care. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I needed him too badly. Needed to prove to myself that I could have someone and still feel whole.
“I want you,” I whispered, kissing his throat and licking the rain off his skin like it belonged to me.
“Maya…” His voice cracked. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” I looked up at him as I pressed his hardened cock. With him, the forbidden apple didn’t just tempt. It made me ache to give, to please, to surrender. “Let me.”
And he did.
He let me slide down and take his length into my hands and mouth, eagerly and fully. I kept at it until his fingers gripped my hair.
He tasted like salt and heat and rain, and something I’d never had before—trust.