16. Noelle
New Year’s Eve
T winkling lights strung around the backyard flicker in the darkness, casting a welcoming light that dances off the high mounds of snow blanketing the frozen ground, making each flake shimmer like tiny specs of glitter. From my bedroom window, I watch as the workers diligently complete the setup for the New Year’s Eve party, our final celebration of the year—a moment to reflect on the good and the bad that has colored our lives these past 365 days.
In the far left corner, a DJ's platform is adorned with neon lights that pulse with festivity, framing a stage ready for dancing. At the heart of the backyard stands a magnificent Christmas tree, over six feet tall, adorned with colorful lights and sparkling glass ornaments, surrounded by neatly arranged tables set up for the guests.
I never wanted to throw a party; my heart hasn’t been in it. But Cole and his teammates deserve to celebrate finishing the football season undefeated, and my work associates are eager for a night out to escape the daily chaos we all know too well, before shit returns to normal tomorrow and we continue living our mundane lives enveloped in the chaos of the real world.
It's been a week since my world shifted again—this time for the better, finally. Yet, home alone, with no one to share the holiday spirit, I find myself sinking into a familiar sadness—the same depression—an ache I've struggled daily to shake off.
Despite the difficulty, I've resisted the urge to log into the app where I first met Q. Each day is a battle against the temptation to reach out, but this is what he wanted: for our lives to return to normal after those twenty-four tantalizing hours spent snowed in in that secluded cabin, where we shut out the world around us. Our delicious secrets linger still, woven into the very sheets we shared, with only the three masked men and the wooden walls bearing witness to the thrill we indulged in on Christmas.
Just the thought of him—or them—sends warmth rushing over me, creating a flush that contradicts the chill of the cracked window as goosebumps prick my skin. Just as I'm about to lose myself in those indulgent memories, a faint ping from my phone snaps me back to reality. My heart races as I quickly withdraw my hand from beneath the band of my thong, fighting the temptation to respond to the images swirling in my mind.
I turn away from the window and snatch my phone off the nightstand, unlocking it only to feel my breath catch in my throat at the sight of a message from Q. Weak in the knees, I sit on the edge of my king-sized bed, trying to steady my rapid breathing before I tap on it to read.
It's time for you to take a shower, Ms. Saint. Now be a good girl and head into the bathroom—there's a surprise waiting for you.
A smile breaks across my face, impossible to contain. I toss my phone onto the bed and leap up with unrestrained excitement, rushing to the bathroom like a child racing down the stairs on Christmas morning, eager to see what Santa brought them.
You’d think the sound of water running and steam filling the air or the silhouette of a tall figure in the shower would frighten me, but instead, it sparks my curiosity and causes the heat between my thighs to grow slick with arousal.
“What the fuck are you waiting for? Get undressed and join me,” Q's deep voice calls over the soothing sound of water splashing against the tiles.
I quickly strip away my clothes, push open the frosted shower door, and step in, the scalding water embracing me, turning my skin a rosy hue. Before I can utter a word, he pulls me against his bare body, my back to his chest, and blindfolds me—his method of keeping his identity a secret for now. But honestly, I don’t fucking care anymore. He turns me to face him, my breasts pressing against his chest as his hands explore my body, eager as if he’s missed me just as much as I’ve missed him.
“Happy New Year, Ms. Saint,” he growls into my ear, guiding his hand up my trembling body until it rests at my throat.
He wraps his fingers around it gently, drawing me closer, stealing my lips in a kiss so heated it leaves me breathless, my knees threatening to give way beneath me. But I kiss him back—oh, fuck do I kiss him back—hungry to taste him again, as he devours my mouth with his thick, pierced tongue sweeping against mine. Taking charge, I reach between our bodies and wrap my hand around his hard cock, stroking it with unspoken confidence.
“Ah, there's my good fucking slut,” he praises, slipping his fingers between our bodies and finding my clit, strumming it as if it were a guitar, and setting fire to my senses and my burning flesh.
My breath hitches again, each flick of his fingers igniting a blaze deep within me. I lose myself in the heat of the moment, squeezing him tighter as his grip on my throat loosens just enough to let me breathe, yet he holds a promise of possession that sends a thrill racing down my spine. My heart thrums in sync with the water's rhythmic cascade, drowning out any lingering doubts.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispers, his breath hot against my neck, sending shivers racing across my skin as his fingers increase their tempo, teasing and tantalizing, pushing me further toward the edge.
“I want you,” I gasp, the words spilling from my lips like word vomit with a desperation I can no longer contain.
“Then let me in this fucking pussy.” His laughter resonating like a warm blanket surrounding us is exhilarating, and I nod vigorously, my body shaking with anticipation.
He spins me around, his hands gripping my waist, guiding me under the spray while his lips capture mine again. The taste of him is intoxicating. Somewhere in the background, I can hear the faint sounds of music and laughter filtering in through the open window, but right now, none of that matters—only us.
Breaking the kiss, he navigates his lips down my body, worshipping my curves until he sinks to his knees. I grip the shower railing, my body awash in both heat and anticipation, as he trails kisses along my inner thighs.
“Q,” I moan, each caress sending tremors through me.
“Patience, Ms. Saint,” he teases, his voice low and gravelly, as if the mere act of speaking fuels his desire. “This is your surprise.”
And just like that, he buries his face between my legs, the warmth of his mouth enveloping my swollen core. A gasp escapes me, turning into a moan that echoes off the tiled walls. His tongue dives deep, swirling and teasing, coaxing my body to build and to rise higher and higher with each flick. I can barely form coherent thoughts as he works his magic, the delicious tension coiling tighter within me. The world outside fades again, leaving only this moment, this man, and the ultimate pleasure pulsing between us.
“Please, don’t stop,” I plead, desperation lacing my voice, and I can feel the wicked smile on his lips as he responds, his tongue working even more feverishly as if he relishes every gasp and whimper that escapes me.
I arch my back, lost in the all-consuming bliss, wanting him closer—wanting all of him. My fingers slip through his damp hair, urging him on, needing to soar above the precipice of ecstasy.
“Not yet,” he murmurs against me, teasing an electric shock through my body, before returning to his feasting, fingers now joining his mouth, filling me completely as he pushes me closer to that delicious edge.
I’m on the brink, teetering, ready to fucking break. Just as I inch closer, he suddenly stops, leaving me dangling in a void of desire. In the midst of my disappointment, he rises; I can only assume his face is dripping, eyes heavy with lust.
“What was that about patience?” I manage to say, my voice a mix of playful annoyance and undeniable need.
“I thought you’d enjoy the suspense.” He smirks against my neck, a devilish glide of his tongue across my collarbone giving me chills.
Before I can retort, he kisses me again, this time rougher and more desperate, and my body responds on instinct. A hungering fire sparks between us, and I know he feels it too. I’m reminded of our stolen moments, the thrill of secrecy that had drawn us together.
“Let’s heat things up,” he growls, turning the faucet off abruptly.
He lifts me effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping around me, carrying me out into the chilled air of the bathroom, where the temperature contrasts sharply with our steamy passion. I gasp as he sets me down on the plush towel draped across the counter, his gaze burning into the blindfold covering my eyes. The anticipation in the air shifts, intensified by the chill surrounding my bare skin and the heat of his body just inches away.
“Tonight is ours, Ms. Saint. Let’s make every fucking second count,” Q says, and with a swift motion, he lifts my legs onto his shoulders and positions his hard cock at my entrance, my back being pushed into the cold mirror behind me. “Are you ready for this, my dirty, forbidden slut?” He questions, his voice taking on that low, seductive rumble that sends shivers racing through my body like electricity coursing through a live wire.
“Yes,” I breathe, my heart pounding against my ribcage, both from the cold air and the fire bubbling just beneath the surface of my skin.
All traces of hesitation vanish as I squeeze my eyes shut beneath the wet blindfold, the promise of pleasure coating his voice, igniting the spark within me even further. It’s like we’re the only two people in existence; our world narrowed down to this moment, this heat.
Suddenly, he flips the light switch, submerging us into total darkness, and to my surprise, he removes the blindfold from my eyes, allowing me a freedom that he's never given me before.
"I want to look into your icy blue eyes when I fill your cunt. I want to see them roll back in your fucking head as I destroy you for any other man."
In one smooth thrust, he fills me, and I gasp, the delicious stretch overwhelming me. There’s a rawness to it, an urgency that shows how much we’ve missed one another. My body instinctively wraps around him, drawing him deeper, craving every inch of him like an addict craving their next fix.
“God, you feel so fucking good, Miss Saint,” he growls, his voice a throaty whisper as he begins to move, slow at first, but with each thrust, he gains speed and intensity.
The sound of skin meeting skin fills the air, merging with the echo of water droplets still clinging to the tiles. I let out a low moan, my fingers gripping the edge of the counter tightly, desperately drawing nearer to the edge with every magical thrust. Q watches me with a predatory gaze, eyes darkening as he revels in the power of claiming my body and hearing the sounds of my pleasure float directly into his ears.
“Let go of anything holding you back,” he murmurs, a commanding energy lacing his tone. “You’re completely safe with me. You're fucking mine.”
And just like that, I allow the wave of sensations to engulf me without reservation. The moment our bodies connect in this forbidden dance, it all fades—the worries, the past, the chaos outside. It’s as though we’re wrapped in our own universe, existing solely for this electrifying exchange.
I can feel the tension building inside, rising like a tidal wave ready to crash. With each thrust, Q drives deeper into my pussy, holding nothing back; the way his body moves against mine ignites a fire that I thought had long dwindled. The repeat motion sets my body alight, and I tilt my head back against the mirror, surrendering to the pleasure spiraling through me as his cock pulses between my already clenching walls.
“Q,” I pant, breathless and desperate. “I’m close.”
“Keep those fucking eyes on me, sweetheart,” he commands, and I obey, locking onto his gaze like it’s the only thing tethering me to this earth, even though I can't see anything but the whites of them... but it's more than enough to make me fall even more over the edge with him.
With each deep, vicious thrust, he takes me higher, a perfect rhythm that sends every nerve ending spasming with delight. My breathing grows erratic, a testament to the pleasure consuming us both. He leans closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he initiates his pace, driving me closer to ecstasy.
“Come for me, slut,” he urges, his voice a husky whisper that wraps around my core, pushing me further into the heat.
And then it happens—a wave of pleasure crashes over me, pulling me under as stars explode behind my eyelids. I scream his name as bliss consumes me, my body shuddering as I ride the euphoric wave, letting every ounce of sensation wash over me.
“That’s it, Ms. Saint,” he growls, each thrust now wild and primal as he chases his own release. “Let me feel it. Let me see how much you've fucking missed me. Let me feel how fucking soaked you can make my cock."
The delicious sound of my orgasm pushes him closer to his own edge, and in a fit of ferocity, he thrusts deeper—harder—until he joins me in our orgasm, his body tensing as he spills into me with a guttural groan that reverberates through the bathroom.
We remain tangled together, breaths mingling, bodies slick with remnants of water and the remnants of our mixed cum. As the sounds of laughter and festivities filter back into our awareness, I realize this moment could be just the beginning, or it could be one of our last.
With a grin that makes his eyes twinkle, Q helps me off the counter, his hands gentle yet possessive as he catches my gaze, a promise lingering in those darkened eyes.
“This is just one surprise,” he murmurs, a teasing smirk on his lips.
I shiver at the thought, excitement bubbling up within me. The warmth of the moment still clings to us, but there’s more to come—more to explore tonight. The new year stretches out before us, ripe with possibility, and I think I’m ready for whatever he has in store.
Joining the party alone, it's not hard to spot Cole and his teammates as they stumble around the backyard, drinks in their hands, their bodies taking on a warm, enjoyable buzz. I grab myself a glass of white wine and glance into Cole's eyes, a different look passing between us, one that I've never seen.
Before I can make my way around to mingle with my guests, Cole excuses himself from his teammates and heads right for me, making me more nervous than I was when Q snuck into my bathroom, waiting there for God knows how long.
Nervously, I take slow sips of my drink, but deep down, all I want to do is chug it all in a single gulp. I can feel the glass slipping from my palm due to the nervous sweat, even in twenty-degree weather as the snow falls in little shimmery flakes.
"You've outdone yourself, Noelle," Cole says the minute he walks up to me, stopping only feet away, so close the tips of our toes in our shoes are touching.
"Thank you, but I can't take the credit. I hired people to put everything together." I force a smile and take another sip, my eyes flicking side to side, looking everywhere except into his eyes, where it seems he wants me to look.
Trying to be subtle, he pulls a small box out from his pocket and thrusts it gently into my free hand, a sweet smile dancing across his quivering lips as another gust of wind blows, giving us all a chill as it kicks up snowflakes in it's path
"What's this for?" Inspecting the perfectly wrapped box, I ask in a soft voice, trembling on the inside but not from the cold.
He smiles, winking, silently urging me to open it. "I wanted to get you something to show my appreciation for all that you've done since my father was killed."
My heart hurts, but I return his smile, internally questioning what he could be up to. Staying silent, I nod, handing him my almost empty glass of wine so I can tear open the silver foil wrapping paper. Opening the lid to the maroon velvet box, my jaw slightly drops and my blood begins to boil as my eyes scan over the necklace secured inside.
"Really, Cole? It's bad enough that you have to call me the ice queen, but now you're buying me jewelry with ice on it?" I scoff, trying to be grateful but, at the same time, feeling hurt and defeated on the inside.
"It's not meant to be a joke gift, Noelle. The ice cubes remind me of your eyes, so that's why I got it." He takes the box out of my hand and pulls out the necklace, undoing the clasp to put it on me.
"Well, that's sweet," I admit, allowing him to drape it around my neck. "Thank you," I tell him, gliding the cubes through my fingers, only now realizing my name is engraved into one of the cubes and his name is engraved in the other one.
"Fresh start?" He asks, his voice sounding hopeful.
"Might as well try... it's a brand new year after all."
"I'm sorry, Noelle I shouldn't have blamed you for my father's murder."
Shocked, my lips part to speak, but nothing comes out. What am I supposed to say? So many questions are running through my mind, but I don't even know where to begin. The look he gives me as I stare deeply into his eyes is so familiar, yet I can't seem to place it.
Looking over his shoulder, I catch the stares of his friends, the guys who play on the same team as him, and a shiver runs through me as I take in their smiles. Suddenly, a feeling deep inside begins to gnaw at me, and the questions in my mind double. I glance back at Cole, his mischievous smirk letting me know I might be on the right path.
Could it be them who had something to do with the kidnapping? My hands tremble down by my side, and of course Cole notices. He winks and hands me back my glass of wine, and I finish it in a single gulp that leaves my head spinning.
"Happy New Year, Noelle," he says, my name dripping like honey off the tip of his tongue, a mysterious yet knowing gleam in his eyes as he flashes another wink before walking off and leaving me speechless.
As I stand here, the crisp winter air biting at my exposed skin, my mind races a million miles an hour. The warmth from the earlier encounter with Q lingers in the back of my thoughts, creating a strange tension as the reality of the present solidifies around me. Everything feels distorted—like my emotions are being pulled in two different directions, tugging me between the heat of passion and the chill of uncertainty.
I clench the necklace around my neck, feeling the rough edges of the ice cubes against my fingertips. Cole's gesture had been thoughtful and undeniably sweet, but the memories of what he had put me through linger, festering like an open wound. There is an air of mischief around the backyard; my senses are heightened, as if every sound and whisper carries a weight of secrets unshared.
I glance around, half-expecting to see Q stepping out from behind the trees, ready to whisk me away into another world where I could forget about everything happening here. But he’s not there; the backyard is filled with Cole's boisterous teammates, laughing and cheering as the countdown to midnight approaches. A part of me wishes to be anywhere but here.
"Hey, you made it!" A voice breaks through my thoughts, and I turn to see Maya, a close friend and colleague, making her way toward me with a broad smile stretched across her face. "You look stunning! And I love the new necklace." She leans in to admire it, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Thanks,” I mutter, forcing a smile as I try to wipe away the residual unease lingering in my gut. “Just trying to survive the holiday chaos.”
She giggles, and instinctively I feel myself relax a little as she brushes her hair behind her ear. “We’re gearing up for the countdown! Are you ready for what’s next?”
I glance back at the party, the energy buzzing undeniably vibrant. “I guess. Just trying to figure it all out, you know?”
“Hey, it’s a new year, right? Anything is possible!” She winks, slipping her arm through mine and guiding me toward a smaller group near the firepit. The warmth radiating from the flames feels like a welcoming embrace, easing the tension in my shoulders just a fraction.
As I tuck myself next to Maya, I steal a glance at Cole again. His laughter harmonizes with his friends, carelessly cradled in revelry. He catches my eye and grins, the familiarity frightening me. Flickers of that old warmth mix with the icy memories, wrapping together into something nearly suffocating.
“Alright, alright!” Hudson, a blond with an infectious grin, begins shouting as the countdown starts. “Let’s do this! Everyone, gather around!”
Laughter erupts, and the crowd forms tighter around the fire. My heart pounds louder as the ticking feels louder than ever, echoing through my ears. I can sense anticipation hanging in the air, tangible.
"Ten... nine...” the chorus begins, and I feel Maya squeeze my hand, excitement bubbling within her as she leans in closer.
My thoughts drift back to Q, the heat of his touch still etched into my memory. I wonder where our own countdown to midnight may have led us, if only the party were far away.
“Five… four…”
Suddenly, it feels as if time moves in slow motion. The world around me fades. I’m transported back to the bathroom, to the pleasure, to the thrill of what I had touched.
“Three… two…”
The remaining seconds slip away like sand through my fingers, and my breath catches in my throat. I refuse to look back over at Cole, feel that familiar pull that sends a chill down my spine. What would it mean to start again? Would I even have a chance at finding something like I had with his father?
“ONE!”
Cheers erupt around me, glasses clink, and suddenly, the air is filled with shouts of “Happy New Year!” Hugs and kisses exchanged with abandon. I let my eyes flutter shut for just a moment, willing myself to soak in the chaos that surrounds me.
It’s then that I feel a gentle grip on my shoulder. Turning my gaze, I’m met with Cole’s bright eyes piercing into mine, brimming with an intensity that leaves me breathless.
“Happy New Year, Noelle!” he exclaims, and with that, he leans in, wrapping his arms around me in a hug. The scent of his cologne engulfs me, reminiscent of old feelings that threaten to push back through the icy walls I’ve built around my heart.
“Happy New Year, Cole,” I mumble into his shoulder, unsure of whether I should pull away or lean in tighter.
It's confusing, the way my body reacts to his touch, and an uneasy awareness washes over me. But it's all so familiar—a clue to a puzzle I've been trying to figure out for some time now. Is it crazy to think that Cole had something to do with my Christmas fantasy? Yes, Noelle, it's fucking crazy. It wasn't him. The little voice in the back of my head tries to tell me, making me even more confused.
Just then, the sound of fireworks explodes overhead, each burst illuminating the night sky with vibrant colors—a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil stirring within me. I see the faces around the fire lit up, joyous and carefree. Around us, the night is alive, yet here I am, drifting between two worlds, feeling every shot of exhilaration and tension in equal measure.
“Are you ready to leave behind everything that held you back?” Cole whispers, his breath warm against my ear, igniting a spark of uncertainty deeper within me.
Before I can respond, the intoxicating sound of Q’s voice suddenly echoes in my head—a haunting memory of our heated exchange, the electric connection we forged just hours before. His words, "You're fucking mine," reverberate within the chambers of my heart.
And as the fireworks burst one more time above our heads—a spectacular finale to signal the beginning of another year—the question hangs unanswered between us, prompting me to wonder how I might navigate this uncharted territory filled with unspoken desires, complicated loyalties, and the earnest pursuit of a fresh start among the ruins that still linger.
I guess I'll never know who was behind the kidnapping, and that's okay. At least I'll always have the memories of it and the free feeling I got from those twenty-four hours. In the end, that's all that matters, right?
The End