Chapter Thirty-Two
Rather than answer with words, Noah strides across the room and up a flight of stairs. I catch a lot of greenery, though the walls are fairly bare, not giving me nearly enough insight into Noah.
Not that it’s all that important, what with this being a live-in-the-moment-and-not-think-about-the-future thing, and I really don’t appreciate the twinge in my chest that accompanies the idea of Noah not being there.
Stop thinking, Mia. Be fully present. Carpe the fucking diem.
We’ve arrived at the perfect place to do that—his bedroom.
Masculine and simple with clean lines, rich wood tones, and a giant skylight above the bed.
A tall bookshelf stands against one wall, crammed with worn paperbacks and field guides and books about ecosystems and wildlife.
An entire wall of plants takes up one side of his room, rich and lush, then there’s the king-size bed, with dark navy bedding made up like he intends to bounce a quarter off it.
Wrong, I realize, as he tosses me onto its springy softness—he’s bouncing me off it tonight. I prop myself up on my elbows, watching as he carefully removes my shoes. One hand slips them off while the other rubs circles on my ankles and shins.
My breath hitches as he runs his palms up my thighs, the aching spot between my thighs screaming for his touch.
Once he reaches the waistband of my black skirt, he finds the tab of the side zipper faster than I ever can. Rather than tugging, he looks up at me. “Just checking in. If you ever want to stop, you just say the word.”
“I don’t think stopping is on my agenda for tonight, but I appreciate it.”
The undoing of the zipper sounds loud in the crackling silence, not even the rapid beats of my heart enough to drown it out. Noah removes the skirt with a sharp tug, his pants quickly joining it on the floor.
His big hands span my hips as he climbs over me, thumbs grazing bare skin where my shirt used to be. “Whatever time we have, I plan on making every second count.”
“Ooh,” I say, a shiver coursing up my spine at the sublime weight of his body as he drapes more of it over more of me, “Lucky for you, I’m a weirdo who’s turned on by planning.”
I want to capture his soft laugh and listen to it forever.
“Well then, I plan on kissing and licking my way across your body.” He dips his head to get started, removing my bra with a flick of his wrist. “Plan on making you scream my name.” His mouth is on my breast an instant later, the tweak of my nipple with his tongue sending shivers down to my core.
“Plan on making you mine.” He glides his hand lower down my belly, fingertips brushing the lacy top of my panties, and my center of gravity shifts to him.
“Yes, please,” I breathe more than say, as he inches closer and closer to the bundle of nerves screaming for his touch.
Noah angles his mouth over mine, soft and deliberate.
Nerve endings spark and misfire as he draws out the kiss, the plundering strokes of his tongue tortuous and magic.
Then he touches me, dragging deliberate fingers over the silky triangle of my panties. He inhales my gasp, tilting my chin with a firm thumb, coaxing me into opening to him further. My back arches off the bed, my hips automatically seeking his and growing frustrated at coming up empty.
“Mia…” His voice is ragged and reverent, like he’s also been dreaming of this moment. He sweeps strands of hair off my face and depresses my lips with his finger. “You’re quite a sight, you know that?”
“I’m interested in hearing more, anyway,” I say with a smirk, gliding my hands up his arms, basking in the flex of muscles and ever sharpening line of his jaw.
Shifting onto his palms, he lifts himself off me before raking his hungry gaze over my body. “I’m a fan of these, for sure.” He palms my breast, tweaking my nipple between his fingers until I’m positively writhing atop the comforter.
I expect him to journey downward, but his dilated pupils lift to my face, so singularly focused on me.
“Your big hazel eyes and the sound of your voice.” His throat bobs as he swallows.
“God, I’m obsessed with your mouth, whether it’s saying things that are making me angry or angrily explaining why I’m wrong. ”
“Happy to help with that last one,” I snark, and we get a little giggly, experiencing the type of lightheartedness two people in their twenties and dating should be having—so I’ve heard, anyway.
Without preamble, I’m rolled onto my side, steely fingers gripping an ass cheek nice and tight. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t check this out when you were planting swamp mallows. Plus every time you walked away.”
I’m rolled onto my back again as Noah straddles me, his massive thighs on either side of my waist, and I seriously can’t get over the bulk of him. “But what really snuck up on me was how much I disliked dropping you off, and as you were walking away, I started planning excuses to see you again.”
I fan my face with my hand, eyelashes fluttering like crazy. “Oh my. You know all the right things to say.” Keeping it light with humor, as is my way, while my heart does cartwheels inside my chest.
He’s just told me something I’ve longed to hear in a relationship for ages—that he wants me around and I’m missed when I’m gone.
Which is why I press pause on this beautiful moment, sitting up and placing my hand on his face like I did earlier. Who even cares if my brace is showy and awkward, because he certainty doesn’t seem to. “For real, thank you. That means more than you’ll ever know.”
That’s as long as I’m interested in pausing, so I ring my arms around Noah’s neck and bring him down on top of me, both of us groaning as every hard plane of him hits every soft part of me.
Urgency replaces exploration as we continue to learn each other’s bodies. With each kiss, each caress, and every glide of skin against skin, we write another line in our story, too involved in the present moment to worry about the end.
Then we decide there’s still too much fabric between us, causing Noah to loop his fingers in the strings of my panties and shimmy them down and off my legs. He snags a condom while he’s standing, and I shove down his boxers as soon as he’s in arm’s reach again.
I’m floating and breathless as he rolls on the condom, anticipation setting off fireworks in my belly. Happiness streaks through me as brightly, my thirsty heart pirouetting around my rib cage, and I just want him—closer, deeper, inside me.
I scoot backward across his bedding as he comes for me, a startled inhale robbing me of breath as he pounces.
As he covers me with his body, I melt into him and the bed and the moment, clinging tightly as he nudges my slick, ready entrance.
Pleasant shivers overtake me when he enters me, and I pant his name as I stretch to accommodate his size. After giving me a moment to adjust, he moves inside me, my world narrowing to the thrust of his hips and arching of mine.
Our bodies form their own rhythm, a sweaty inferno building between us, until his breaths are also mine and our bodies become one.
Moans echoes off the walls, I fist the sheets in my hands, and as we continue to move together, we write another line in the story I’m fully present in, too gratified by the here and now to worry about how it ends.
“I’m so close,” I rasp, my eyes meeting his.
“That’s it, baby. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got you.” Noah becomes my anchor, paying close attention as he changes up the circling of his fingers and grinning at the keening noise I make.
His eyes light up as he watches me, sending me flying higher and higher…
Until I come undone, shattering apart as he kisses his name from my lips.
The hand on my hip goes rigid, and it’s my turn to watch as the threads on his self-restraint snap one by one. Every muscle tenses, a guttural groan ripping from his throat as he finds his release and empties himself into me.
As he comes back down, he whispers my name like it’s the only thing tethering him in this moment. He crashes to the bed beside me, curling me into his strong arms, and there’s something about the way he says it again that makes it feel more like a vow.
…
The drive from his house to my grandmother’s house goes by way too quickly, and I’m so not ready for it to be over.
Noah’s truck idles at the curb, and as I stare at the place I’ve called home for nearly three months, I get pissed.
Mom’s taken my haven from me. Again.
Same way she did most summers, when she’d cut my trip to Grandma’s and Wanda’s short, always claiming it was for me, yet it ended with me babysitting and cooking dinner.
Resentment and anger build, doing the opposite of preparing me for what I’ll be facing, until I’m considering telling Noah never mind, to please take me away.
Why am I not enough?
“I wished for so long that I had a different relationship with my mom.” I clear my throat, wishing it’d dislodge the lump there and that Noah will somehow make it better. “As a child, I focused so much of my energy on keeping her happy.”
Noah doesn’t say anything; he simply folds my hand in his, pouring reassuring warmth through me as he peers into my very soul.
“I tried so hard.” Tears sting my eyes, but I hold them off with some rapid blinking and measured inhales and exhales, because I’m stronger than I used to be, with more tools. “But I could never live up to her level of perfection.”
“That’s rough,” he says simply, squeezing my hand, and that acknowledgment is enough.
I fiddle with my earrings, doing my best to not let the past affect me in the here and now, while also reminding myself it’s okay to be sad or even cry.
“Having that be the bar set for me, wondering why there were so many conditions to loving me, even from my own mother… It just did so much damage, you know?”
Completely rhetorical, because how could he? The man’s a rocky cliffside, steady and unafraid, no matter how many waves come crashing. He’s seen me struggle through a sex seminar, cheered me on as I delivered a comedy act I didn’t write, and showed up to support me at my big, important work event.
He’s perfect.
“Yeah, I get that. My grandparents raised me.” Noah rubs a couple fingers over his jaw, the shift in his tone palpable. “Probably why I held on a little too tight when they split.”
“Oh, Noah,” I say, the familiar ache in my chest on his behalf this time. “I’m so sorry.”
Other than the slight tick in his jaw, he shutters off his emotions. But there’s a tender vulnerability swimming in the blue of his eyes when he says, “It’s no big deal now. But growing up…nothing I did was good enough for my grandfather—and he’s still kind of that way, honestly.
“If it weren’t for my grandma, I probably wouldn’t have bothered with college—I thought all my ideas were too stupid, because that’s what I constantly heard. I was as surprised as anyone that I thrived.”
I study the slope of his nose, and how the light brings out the paler blond of his scruff, my admiration and affection only growing. “And now you’ve built an entire business.”
“Where I’m the boss, and therefore, always right.”
“That explains so much,” I tease, and he playfully jabs his elbow into my side.
“And how I’m right, Miss Skips Ahead Instead of Listens, is by being open to new ideas from my team. We’ve both experienced how stifling constant criticism can be, and I didn’t hire yes-men. I hired incredible people who know what they’re doing.”
“That sounds nice.” The sarcastic nickname he gave me is a little too apropos. I’d dare say it’s how I wound up being a publicist-slash-property manager. “It feels like I have to be a whole team of people by myself most of the time, and it gets freaking exhausting.”
“Sounds like you need a new team,” he says, and my thoughts go to that business card in my clutch I managed to forget about till now. “Don’t get me wrong, watching you tonight, how you worked the room and juggled one thing after another…” He taps my nose. “It was impressive.”
“Thank you. And I’m sorry I was kind of a jerk about your grandma dating new people. I get now why that must’ve been hard for you.”
“Eh. You were right.” He shrugs a shoulder. “It’s like what she did for me with college. Bringing her here, she’s happy and thriving.”
“I do love that I’ve gotten to be part of her journey. It’s been inspiring to watch her blossom into herself at eighty years old. Like it’s never too late, you know?”
“I’m coming around,” he says, and I laugh, then reluctantly eye the front door with a sigh, painfully aware I should get in there. It probably makes me a bad daughter to even think it, but I’m too exhausted from racking my brain on Lakeview’s behalf to take care of Mom’s problems for her.
“You’ve got this,” he says, and my fraying nerves disagree.
“Or, hear me out…” I place my hand extra high on his thigh, my heart skipping beats. “We could sit here for another hour or so, sharing tales about our childhood. We checked off the shitty, let’s dive into the good—I want to know everything.”
“Your stalling tactics are impressive…” His breath comes out shaky as I drift my hand higher on his thigh. “But we’ll have to do me later.”
“Oh, but I did you earlier, and all it did was give me a new fixation.” I squeeze his muscular thigh, and he readjusts himself, my taunting turning me on, too. “I’ve never experienced pleasure like that—not ever, Noah—and now all I can think about is you stripping me naked again.”
It pops out, surprising me as much as it does him, judging from his raised eyebrows and the mouth that hangs open like a bearded guppy.
Down, girl.
Suddenly bashful, I curl up against him, chin tucked on his shoulder and just blink, blink, blink at him.
“That came out bolder than I expected, even though I wholeheartedly mean it.” I press puckered lips to his whiskered cheek, savoring the ticklish contrast. “Guess I’ve been hanging out with our grannies too long. ”
He groans and gives me a kiss that’s over far too soon. “Call me if you need me.”
I nod, not caring that his scruff keeps catching on my hair.
Then my anxiety and procrastination come to a head, until nothing could be worse than going inside and getting it over with.