Chapter 21
Noah
“I don’t think I’ve gone to bed before ten o’clock since I was in middle school,” I say, fighting a yawn.
The afternoon flew by with lunch and then a nap for Max.
He opened his present but was more interested in the box and paper than the cars.
Harbor won’t be impressed since his career revolves around high-end custom cars.
But I have no doubt that when Max actually knows what a car is, it’s something he can bond with not only me but also his uncle.
Now that he’s settled in bed for the night and we’ve binged four episodes of Sons of Anarchy, I’m fighting sleep. It was busy all morning and kept going once we got home.
Home . . .
The word catches on the end of my tongue.
Huh. I’m not sure what to do with that. I’m sure it’s just a turn of phrase that came without great meaning.
It’s probably best if I ignore the inner alarms sounding in my head.
What good are the alarms when they tell me to move forward instead of away?
Maybe I should listen rather than disregard.
I hold Liv a little tighter as we lie on the couch together. She yawns. “Welcome to parenthood. I’m in a constant state of exhaustion.”
That yawn is my gateway. I go for it. “Since we’re both kind of tired, do you want to—”
“Go to sleep?” She turns in my arms, seemingly wide awake now. This is not what I was going for. Well, the awake part works but not the sleep.
“Since it’s Saturday night, I was kind of thinking we’d go into the bedroom.” Hint.
As if that doesn’t compute, she stares at me with her brows pushed together. “And sleep? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
I blink and then narrow my eyes. “Um, no. That’s not what I’m suggesting.”
She laughs lightly against my chest. “My brain is too tired to riddle through this maze, Noah. You’ll have to spell it out for me.”
With our legs tangled together, my dick struggles to find enough room between us. “Do I really need to spell it out? I think it’s kind of obvious.”
“So I feel.” A wink and smirk are given in return. I really fucking love this side of her. “It’s that easy, huh?”
“All it takes is you, Ms. Bancroft, and I’m a lost cause.”
Like the wind came in and swept her off her feet, her body slacks on the edge of the couch. Fortunately, I’d never let her fall. At least not to the floor. She leans in to kiss me. “You’re not lost. You’re right where you’re supposed to be.”
She deserves more than a kiss for saying that and for making me a part of their lives.
But that’s what I have to give her, so I kiss her with passion, running my fingers along the back of her neck so she knows that I’m not only grateful but I want her so fucking badly when I get that first taste of her. “So the bedroom?”
Releasing a jagged breath, she nods. “The bedroom.”
We waste no time grinding together as soon as we’re on the mattress. Tongues tangling. Hands frenzied. She tugs at my shirt and pulls hard. “That’s my neck,” I say, laughing through the burn she just caused along the base of my neck. “Just in case you forgot, my head is still attached.”
“Oh sorry.” She bends to kiss the spot that stings, not bothering to hide her laughter. Scrunching her nose, she fails at restraining her smirk. “It would be easier if you remove your shirt.”
I push up, grabbing the back of my collar, and yank it off. The lights from the city shine bright enough for us to see everything and each other. So giving her a show might be fun. I start on my jeans, and turnabout is fair play. “Let me see those great tits of yours.”
“Noah,” she says, her mouth hanging open.
She feigns offense, but I don’t think she means it. We’re about to find out. “Is that the line? Did I cross it?”
“Not complaining.” Scrambling to her knees, she tugs her shirt over her head. “Just shocked that I liked hearing that so much.” Her bra falls to the floor, and she starts on her jeans on her own accord. Someone’s horny.
We’d both be found guilty by a jury. Those dangerous curves, the tits that are a soft handful, the blush of her nipples peaking for me. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”
“Where?”
That mouth . . . Fuck me, that mouth. I raise an eyebrow at this cocky little vixen. So fucking sexy. “Do you want to play?”
Anchored up on her elbows, she brazenly takes my body in. I rub over my dick a couple of times, drawing her eyes to the prize. She replies, “I’m game.”
Her striking confidence is a major turn-on. “You’ll have me coming before I get back on the bed.”
Her laughter filters through the air as her gaze continues to roam freely over my body. “Would that be so bad?”
I move onto the bed again, sliding in next to her. “Yes. To my ego.” I roll to start peppering her neck with kisses.
A shallow moan catches her off guard, but she still reaches between us. Her hand embraces my erection, and she smarts, “Your ego is as big as ever.”
So. Fucking. Sexy. “You say the sweetest things.”
She bursts out laughing. I love that we can have fun in and out of the bedroom. She says, “Making me laugh is the way to my heart.”
Lowering my hand over her stomach and between her legs, I say, “I have other goals in mind, but tonight, it’s not your heart I’m after.”
Happiness still shapes the corners of her eyes, though her smile is only slight. “Oh yeah?” She rolls on top of me, pressing her hands to my chest while straddling my cock. Leaning down, she kisses me and whispers against my lips, “What are you after, Mr. Westcott?”
I exhale when her words shoot straight to my dick. She knows exactly how to play this game. “What am I going to do with you?”
Lifting enough to look into my eyes, she grins, knowing just how to play me. “Whatever you desire.”
Fuck me. “You know what I want? I want to feel you, your body wrapped around mine, the heat scorching from our connection, and to see the look on your face when you come.” Holding her harder against my dick, I grind against her pussy. “I also want to come inside you.”
Resting her head against mine, she closes her eyes and inhales. “I love that you tell me exactly how you feel and what you want.” With a quick tilt of her head, our eyes find each other again. “But on that last part, you mean with protection, right?”
I chuckle. “Yes. Be right back.” I lift her and set her beside me.
Padding through the apartment with an erection isn’t my idea of fun, but one kid is enough for now.
I grab my backpack left by the front door and start back.
Sifting through the bag, I pull out a box of condoms and set them on the nightstand.
“Figured we should stock up since we’re making this a regular thing. ”
Propped up on one elbow, she giggles. “Open the drawer.”
When I tug it open, two large boxes fill one-half of the drawer. Glancing at her, I ask, “Got big plans?”
“I sure do.”
You wouldn’t know there’s been an interruption when I climb back in bed. Our lips find each other as our bodies cling together. I run my hand over her stomach and then knead her breasts. A moan escapes her chest, encouraging me for more. I won’t disappoint.
I’m so hard for this woman. Stopping, I rip a packet open and put the condom on.
Moving into place, I find her legs spread wide and ready to welcome me.
I not only like the view but also how her legs wrap around me, holding me to her like she can’t wait another second, which has me pushing in without warning.
Her back arches, and a harsh breath follows.
I kiss her and fuck, thrust and pull, her nails scraping down my back as she kisses me in return.
I deepen it—the kiss and the fuck until her moans are uttered words in the form of faster, harder, and oh my God.
The sound of our bodies fills the air, slick against each other as we push and pull, take and give.
I lick her jaw and then take her earlobe between my teeth with a gentle tug.
“I want you back on top of me.” It’s so much at once, feeling, touching, hearing, smelling, and not enough.
I want more. I want all of her, inside and out.
I force myself away, lying on my back and tucking my hands behind my head long enough to catch my breath and slow my thoughts so I can enjoy myself instead of feeding the devil inside me.
She comes without a breath escaping before we’re reconnected, sinking down on me as if she owns my cock.
Her possessive nature only makes me harder.
With her palms flattened to my chest, the leverage gives her the upper hand.
Rocking back and forth on top of me, she keeps her gaze fixated on mine as a smile widens. “You sure do look smug, Mr. Westcott.”
“I have a gorgeous woman fucking me. What’s not to be smug about?”
She rolls her eyes, then leans back to anchor her hands on my legs. With her tits out, she rolls her hips, and her expression goes from challenging with a cocked eyebrow to a point of ecstasy that drops her mouth open and has her lids closing.
The tips of her hair brush over my legs as I take hold of her hips and help her along. Running one hand across the suppleness of her thighs, I dip my fingers between her legs and slide down between her slick, soft folds to find her clit.
After a moan and the swirl of her hips, she increases the pressure against my fingertips. Her eyes are barely open, but I see them set on mine. She bites her bottom lip as her body begins to pursue her orgasm.
“I’m close.” Her breathing picks up when I rub her sweet bud quicker. “It’s so much. So good. Keep going.” Each word releases a desperate breath, and soon, she’s leaning forward again, taking what she needs to get off on me.
Releasing her hip, I gather her hair in my fist as I sit up.
I’m still fucking her, still rubbing that juicy little clit.
Breathless and struggling to hang on, she falls into her orgasm when I pull her head back by her hair, opening that mouth and throat.
So damn tempting to fill it, but I won’t keep her from coming first. “You going to come for me, baby?”
Her eyes are still closed, her breathing erratic as she bounces, chasing her relief. “Yes. God yes.”
I lick the column of her neck, tasting the salt and sweat of her skin before clamping my lips on the side and kissing, nipping, sucking, and falling under her spell.
“Oh God, yes,” she cries out in a fury while being pulled to the abyss. Her body quakes around me as her body rushes her release.
I push.
I push.
I thrust to catch up, to find the darkness and then myself again. I’m buried to the hilt and still fucking until I finally reach the precipice. Nails scrape against my skin, but there’s no pain. The ache I was hunting drowns in my release.
She falls forward, her bare and glistening body my temple and salvation.
I push, and she takes until the trembling stops, and my body is depleted. We’re so wrapped around each other, wrapped in each other that I don’t want this to end. When my breathing finally evens, she says, “You’re going to be in so much trouble if you gave me a hickey.”
A release of a different nature welcomes me back. A kind welcome after the heat of the other. Inspecting her neck, I rub my fingers over the bruising skin. “When you say trouble . . .”
“Noah!”