Your Biggest Fan

41. ROXANNE

Chapter forty-one

I never thought about what was going to happen after all of this. I’ve been so distracted plotting my grand escape that I didn’t really stop to consider the collateral damage. Namely, one Noah Jackson, the thorn in my side.

He was always a means to an end. A necessary evil. Someone who I had to deal with in my English class. Someone to play the guitar and sing so we can win the battle, split the prize money, and I can use my cut to add to my growing jar.

We were supposed to tolerate each other, maybe argue about his shirt again, and then go our separate ways without ever speaking. Maybe I’d see him at the high school reunion if I decided to go to that.

Let’s be real, I probably wouldn’t.

But now…

Fuck. Now.

Now I have real— messy —feelings for the person I swore was my nemesis five months ago. How the hell did this happen? What will happen when it is all over? It makes sense we’ll go our separate ways after the battle, and school.

That was the deal after all—keep doing this until we can’t.

While my heart is not literally being rattled in a paint shaker it might as well be, because it pains me to admit it, even to myself, that I’m gonna miss him. Miss this . I realize I am no longer in a hurry to flee this town without looking back, and that’s more terrifying than any werewolf, thunderstorm, or snake chasing me up the driveway.

There’s something about Noah that feels like home. Not the suffocating, vodka-scented version I grew up with, but the comfortable, relaxed feeling that only comes when I’m sitting alone in the grass underneath a tree, the sky above my head pink as the silence of the graveyard surrounds me, except for the book in my lap while I twirl a daisy between my fingers, and I think ‘wow this feels nice .’

Damn it. When did he become my Sunday evening?

I’d be sad to see that in my rearview mirror.

I’m scared. Snakes tightening around my legs scared. I seem to be facing a lot of things that terrify me lately, so in the spirit of that, I’m going to do something that I know I’ll regret if I don’t.

Drawing an unsteady breath, I hold Noah’s eyes and let him see everything burning inside mine, then I crawl over the center console and into his lap, straddling his hips. The way his hands immediately fall to my waist, the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he watches me... It really does feel like belonging.

Our eyes meet, and I press the tip of my nose into his. This close, I can see the little blonde tips of his bottom eyelashes in the dark.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Hi yourself.”

I catch his smirk, and those pitch-black irises picking apart the way my body sits on top of him. He knows what I’m trying to do when his thumbs brush underneath my shirt, and before I process it, I’m kissing his lips, his throat, the planes and angles of his face.

It’s when I get to his cheek, that I see it. I see it when Noah tilts his head back, the moonlight filtering through the window showing a small divot, so pale it is almost impossible to see.

My heart beats through the skin of my thumb, marking a path across the tiny raised scar on his cheek. “Where did you get this?”

His eyes fall shut, and his mouth twists sour. “It’s from a long time ago, when I was a kid. The first time Dennis and I didn’t get along too well.”

I lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, right over the scar.

An apology. A benediction.

Noah’s breath stills, his hand flexing against my hip. And I know, I know I should leave it at that. But I can’t help myself.

I need him to know that I see him. All of him, even the broken bits. Especially the broken bits. Those are the parts that make him strong, kind, and brave. The parts that make him Noah.

Taking his right hand in mine, I brush my lips over his knuckles, kissing the fresh scar that Jonathan’s nose ring left. Too many scars he wouldn’t have if people weren’t so shitty, selfish, and stupid.

Unfolding his palm, I touch the pads of his fingers with my lips, feeling the bumps and ridges of where he spends hours practicing.

He makes a soft, punched-out sound when I wrap his hand around my cheek. My eyes close at the warmth of his skin, and I let go of all my fear.

“I hope you know,” I start, my voice cracking on the words. I clear my throat, try again. “I hope you know how amazing you are, Noah Jackson.”

To prove my point, I tilt my head to press my lips into his palm, and when his thumb brushes across the curve of my bottom lip, I want to cry. I don’t know why. Noah always makes me feel so good—physically, mentally—but does he really get it? Does he understand how good he is?

“Trust me, I know.” He grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

Well, that answers that. Of course he knows. He still has that loud confidence.

My favorite egomaniac.

“No, really.” I angle my head, catching his thumb between my teeth, wanting him to feel my words. “You have no idea how much of an effect you have on people.”

One eyebrow tilts, and his thumb rolls along the inside of my bottom lip. “You have no idea how much I like to hear you compliment me.”

I bite a little more. A little harder. “You have no idea how much I mean it.”

Noah’s smirk kicks up a few more notches, and his thumb rubs against my teeth, tracing each one. “You have no idea how much I want you to keep saying that.”

I fight to keep a serious face at his arrogance, holding his eyes for as long as I can—maybe five seconds, tops—before cracking into a giddy, unstoppable grin. “Then I’d better stop before it goes to your head.”

My fingers start to curl into the front of his shirt, gently pulling him closer. His hand slides further back, tangling into my hair.

“And you still have no idea how strong you are,” he whispers, those loud blue eyes seeing the hidden wells of strength I’m still discovering day by day.

“I think that’s just all those years of drumming,” I mumble, my fingers tightening against his shirt.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

His touch is so hypnotic—those fingers of his making circles at my nape, drawing me in. I look down, staring at our hips connected, and every single tooth of our zippers blocking us makes my heart pound all over my skin.

“I've learned that when life keeps throwing punches, you don't realize how tough you've become until standing your ground is the only option left.”

“That's... surprisingly profound.”

“I have my moments,” I sigh, hand still holding onto his shirt.

“Roxanne.” He ducks his head, lips brushing my lobe as he speaks in that low tone that makes my whole neck throb. “You... fuck, you have no idea, do you? No idea how incredible you are.”

I open my mouth to brush off with another joke, but he shakes his head, hand sliding out from underneath my hair to press his thumb to my lips.

“I’m serious.” His fingertip traces along my jaw, tilting my chin to the side to meet his gaze. “I don’t know how you’ve come out of everything without turning into the world’s biggest cynic. You fucking flip pennies over so people have good luck.” He takes a breath and brings me down until our foreheads touch. “You even took a chance on me when you fantasized about drowning me in the pond.”

With the way he’s looking at me, I think he might actually cry. That I might cry.

“The truth is, no one is anything like you,” Noah adds, lashes tilting up to look me straight in the eye. “Every beautiful thing about you is yours alone. And I like all of it.”

“I’m just trying to figure it out as I go.” My fingers play with the chain around his neck, trying to hide how his words make me so damn weak. No one has ever made me feel so beautiful before. “Give yourself some credit, because you’re strong too. I’m proud of you for not turning into your stepdad. That means you’ve taken your own path.”

“I’m—”

I press a finger to his lips this time, shutting him up. “Ah ah, take the compliment. As for the pond comment, I mean a girl’s gotta have her fantasies, doesn’t she?”

He laughs and it transforms his face right into that soul sucker. Gorgeous and lethal.

“Are you saying you still want to drown me in the pond?”

I play with his chain, trying to be cute and coy. “I wouldn’t say it’s off the table.” I lift my chin to meet his. “You should feel lucky I haven’t yet.”

“Oh, how gracious of you. I’m so lucky that the one person who wants to kill me the most, still hasn’t done it yet.”

“It’s been hard. You aren’t the easiest person to put up with.”

I brush my finger down the skin of his chest, stopping once I reach the open V of his shirt. The shirt is covering most of his chest, and it’s doing a piss-poor job of hiding the fact that he isn’t wearing an undershirt. I’m extremely aware of that fact, and I’m even more aware of the fact that I’m extremely aware of it.

I’m done ignoring my feelings about it.

“You and these three buttons drive me nuts.” My hands start to wander down his arms, across his chest, pulling at the open edges of his shirt to slip inside. “And while I admit I may be too nice for my own good with no idea where I'm going to end up months from now...”

My touch moves up and over his bare shoulders, behind his back, up to his neck. I want to soak in everything, starting with his curls wrapping around my finger, the weight of his chain around his neck. I want it to scar me forever.

Leaning in until our mouths touch, I murmur, “I’m going somewhere with you tonight.”

Right now, I don’t care about the complications. Not the fact that I’m not sure if I will be getting out of this town. Not the fact that at home my drunk mom is killing herself. Not the fact that I had been cheated on two months ago—that one of my best friends had betrayed me.

Fuck the 4.0 GPA. Fuck the carefully laid plans.

None of that matters.

This does.

The fact that I’m kissing the frontman of my band. I’m not worried about the destination anymore, I’m going to enjoy the ride.

His head falls against the seat as I start to kiss the salt off his skin, throwing his jacket off of me and onto the other side of the car. His throat rumbles in a laugh against my breath when All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You comes on the radio.

“Oh my god. Did you plan this?” He asks. The lyrics to the song sound written explicitly for the moment we are in—two air masses, one hot and one cold, about to crash into each other and light the sky. There is no one else in the universe I would want to imagine being in this car with.

“Not at all.” My hands go further into his shirt. “Must be fate.”

“Fate,” he echoes. “I was meant to drive you around for forty minutes and let you tease me with your hands?”

“Yeah. This entire night was put together specifically for you. Every single second we’ve spent together and every moment to come.” I start working at his shirt, feeling him get tight as I make my way down. “It’s all for you.”

My heart thrums while I toy with the remaining buttons, wanting to see all of him. To feel every line and angle of his warm body against mine.

“Are you sure you want to add this to the soiled mixtape?” His voice blends with the sound of his teeth biting down to contain that little pathetic noise he makes that always rushes over me with hot satisfaction.

God, I love when he gets like this. When his brain starts leaking out of his ears.

“I don’t think this will be soiled.” More buttons slip free. The sharp lines of his collarbones emerge. “If anything, this is our theme song.” I sweep his shirt open and rake my gaze over every naked inch. “Do you believe in fate?”

My heart beats faster, refusing to look up because I’m scared of what I might find in those ocean eyes. The tides might pull me in and I might say something stupid.

“Fate, destiny—” A sigh as I trail my fingers up the ripples of his abs, the muscles tensing at the contact. “I don’t know what’s out there waiting for us beyond this.”

“You mean the most arrogant guy in town doesn’t believe in something bigger than himself?” I tease as I start to kiss across his chest that rises and falls faster. If life is so kind to give me him, I wonder what else it has in store.

“Something bigger than myself has never loved me before.” A muscle jumps in his throat. “Do you believe in it?”

We both know the answer is yes. There’s something far greater than ego or pride or fear around us now. I see it burning there in the sapphire depths of his eyes, growing brighter by the second.

If our bands hadn’t thrown us out, there was no way I’d be here right now. No way would I be given this front-row VIP access to this promised land so many other girls— and Tyler —have wished for, unbuttoning Noah’s shirt to see his skin shining.

“I think so,” I whisper, seeing his lips part after my teeth bite the swell of his neck, our bodies starting to move together in a slow grind. “You know, they say that things happen for a reason and that the soul chooses the right people to help it heal.”

He laughs then, a wrecked sound, and crushes me tighter into his open shirt. “I’m sorry for your soul’s problems.”

“My soul’s problems seem to have a thing for trouble.”

“Tell me something, Roxy,” he whispers against my shoulder, his hand sliding to my back pocket to push me down harder. “Do you feel healed?”

“Healing,” I sigh out. “Not healed yet.”

My neck arches back as his lips press down soft on the center of my throat, his long fingers splaying across my ass to rock me against him in a slow roll. My nails scratch lightly down his ribs as he kisses at my collarbones, and I smile at the feel of him so hard between the warmth of my inner thighs.

“Maybe life really does start with a kiss,” he says, and I tilt my chin back down to see the veins on his arms tightening.

“That wasn’t exactly the romantic beginning you’re thinking of,” I mutter, remembering the smell of the bonfire and spite on my lips.

“It changed everything, didn’t it?” His lips curve into that dangerous grin I know so well. “Messy can be fun sometimes,” he reminds me. “Sometimes the mess is what makes it memorable.”

I dive into him, capturing his mouth with mine, swallowing his gasp of surprise. My lips part, his tongue tangling with mine, and I keep kissing him until the world feels dizzy and my lungs squeeze for air like they did the first time. Until the car disappears just as the bonfire did back then.

If his undone shirt and the wildfire in my eyes didn’t scream what I want loud enough, then Ann Wilson belting it out does. I have no choice but to find out what’s beyond this.

I shove the sleeve of his shirt up to get my hands on his skin, feeling the play of his muscles as he moves under me. The salt-musk taste of him floods my mouth as I drag my tongue along the inked patterns around his upper arm.

I'm about to move up to his jaw when Noah moves away, holding me slightly apart with a grip on my arms as he meets my questioning gaze with a fierce look that robs every molecule of air I have left in my lungs.

“Are you sure?” he asks, and I think I might actually drown in those eyes of his.

“I don’t want to do anything but this,” I manage to say, right before he buries his face in the crook of my neck, pressing hot kisses at the skin there.

“Then I’m right here.” His fingers clench so hard against my back that the fabric of my shirt stretches. “I don’t want you going anywhere.”

My heart’s pounding out a morse code of need that only he can decipher as I arch towards him, wanting to press as much of me into him while everything inside of me falls apart.

“I was starting to think more about Bell and Pond this week, and hear me out…” The song reaches its peak as Noah groans against me and I shove my palm into his pants, where he’s wet and leaking. “You know how a bolt of lightning sent Marty Mcfly time traveling?”

He lets out a deep breath that sounds like he wants to kill me. “What? This moment, here, and you’re on about time travel?”

“I was thinking maybe that’s where they disappeared to.” I keep stroking him from root to tip. “Maybe they went to the future, maybe they’re still walking around today.”

“You really do say the weirdest things.” He shakes his head at the insane thought while sliding his palm up the inside of my shirt, tips of his fingers brushing against the lace of my bra. “You think they’re watching us right now?”

My thumb swirls across his thick tip and the needy sound he makes low in his throat slides down my spine and settles between my thighs. “Do you think if they’re watching us that they’re proud?”

“Yeah. I think Pond, that grumpy old bastard, would be proud of his boy for snagging a girl like you.” His fingers dig in between my skin and the band of my bra. “I bet he’s also cursing the fact that he can’t touch you like I can.”

To prove his point, his hips rock into my touch, and I giggle when his hands grip tighter, leaning forward.

“The real question is, will this be on our mixtape or are you going to keep leaving me in suspense? Because we’re running out of time.”

“Oh, it’s on the mixtape.” He yanks me closer by the hooks of my bra and plants a kiss that stamps out thought. “The next question is, can I please take your fucking top off now?”

I nod in response, rolling my lips into my mouth as I slide my hand out from behind his jeans and raise my arms up to the top of the car. Palms flat against the roof, I watch as he licks his bottom lip, imagining it’s his tongue that has me so wet between my legs as he grabs the bottom of my shirt, and takes his time to lift it.

The seat dips from beneath my knees, and my head swims as I wait. Out of all the times I’ve fooled around in the past, no one has ever once taken my top off.

My eyes stay locked onto his fingers passing over my bra, and I think Noah tries to suppress a groan at the last second by biting down on his lip. Then he finally pulls my top over my head, revealing black lace, and tosses the shirt in the passenger seat.

“Shit,” he whispers, his hand cupping me. “This looks even better than I imagined.”

In the low light I see the way his pupils expand, dark yet bright when the warmth from the pad of his thumb presses into my nipple.

God, he looks every bit the roguish vampire right now.

He tips me backward until I’m stretched over the steering wheel. His mouth can’t make up its mind, moving between my breasts, across the thin lace, and biting at my skin as his hands against my hips fix me in place.

The warmth from his tongue sends fire down low, and then his thumbs go for the button of my pants, popping it open. Too fucking slow, he lowers the zipper, each unzip loud in the car, and after his nose traces a line up my stomach, we crash together again.

It’s hands, lips, and teeth—it’s us . He’s so weak against me, and a wild notion crosses my mind that if it weren’t for the seat at his back, he'd be on his knees for me.

Again .

With strength thanks to the years of drumming, I push him back into his seat and keep us an arm’s length apart. The backseats are still out, and there’s nothing back there but a pile of blankets and a Three Musketeers mixed in the pile somewhere. Oh, and a few Pop-Tart wrappers I scarfed down on my way to work last week.

Smiling at his look of confusion, I crawl out of his lap and into the back.

After clearing away some wrappers, I settle onto the blanket nest, propping myself up on my elbows, and I see Noah staring silently at me. Judging from his forearm resting on the middle console, his other hand gripping the steering wheel hard as he leans over, he definitely just got done staring at my ass.

I keep watching, amused, as his eyes scan my body—from the curve of my hip to the swell of my chest—until he looks directly in my eyes. Waiting to be told what to do.

“Well?” I tilt my head, a pout on my lips as I pat the space next to me. “You coming or not?”

His breaths speed up as he hops over the console, falling elbows first into the back and crawling toward me on all fours. My heart kicks me in the fucking chest once he hovers over me, and there’s a beat where we both readjust and settle, my thighs hugging his hips and his open shirt tickling my ribs as it dangles down from his sides.

The radio changes to I Wish It Would Rain Down and I reach out to twirl that curl always in his eye around my finger. A hand not holding him over me comes up to the side of my face, the tips of rough fingers running against my nose while mine run along his jawline, across those cheekbones.

“Roxy,” he breathes. His hand reaches for the hem of my pants, heat vibrating between my legs again. “Let me, please.”

“Please what?” We both know what we want the other to do. It’s a game we’ve played before, but I’m the first one to act this time.

“Let me,” he breathes out again, and his hand roams over the flare of my hip before fingers slip underneath my leather pants to palm at my ass. My back arches up into his burning touch as nails scrape my skin in hot, tiny rakes.

“God, I want to see all of you, feel all of you,” he keens, a full-throated whine. “I’ll be so good I’ll make you see stars.”

My hands fist the blankets underneath me.

It’s deeply ironic. I want him to have me this way. Want him to make love to me all tender and bare. It’s worlds away from what I’d pictured ever wanting with him.

“Show me,” I reply, voice shaking only a little as he moves to my pants with both hands.

Nervously catching my lower lip between my teeth, I sit in silence, waiting for whatever comes next under that stare of his. What I don’t expect is that typical half-smile of his to curve his mouth before he freaking winks at me. That single gesture somehow makes this entire situation even more unbelievable while also calming me down.

Noah is still Noah.

“Yes, mistress.” He brings my ankle up to his shoulder and starts to untie my boot.

My lashes fan across tingling cheeks as I follow the line down his chest, peeking at his band of boxers that show off an inch above his jeans, down to the bulge straining against them.

Holy hell, am I glad we had practice yesterday because the strong levels of muscle failure in my arms are what’s keeping me from reaching out to grope him. Looking for a distraction from how insanely wet the sight is making me, my stare lands on the tattoo on his hip.

“You never told me what that tattoo means.” I jerk my chin at the lit match as he sets my left leg down, starting on my right.

He tugs off the other boot, then tosses both up in the front seat. That rough voice ripples through me like an x-rated bass line as he says, “Ian told me I was a devil who torched girls’ hearts.”

“Is that what I am to expect from you, then?”

“No,” he answers as softly as he touches me, and moves in for my pants for real this time. “You get way better.”

Mouth dry, I shift my hips as he hooks his thumbs into my pants, sliding the leather slowly down to my ankles, then whips them over to the front seat with the rest of my clothes, leaving me in a scrap of damp cotton that exposes the way the curl in front of his eye makes me feel.

“For you, my only promise is to be the perfect fit. The perfect match.” He licks his lips, a smile peeking out as his fingertips trace a line up my calf in a lazy, hot way. “A nice match that you can strike and enjoy all night.”

I bite down on my cheek. He’s such a little punk.

“What about that one?” I ask, this time jerking my chin to the flower near his elbow.

He takes a deep breath, the tattoo now brushing my skin as my thigh bends into his hands and he keeps tracing that slow, burning line. “It’s a dahlia. My home state’s flower.”

Those wicked fingers brush across my swollen clit, and my lashes flutter in a wild spasm, thighs parting wider. Please, please do it already.

“So I won’t forget how beautiful the world can be.”

He drops down and his lips instantly go to the skin of my inner thighs until he’s where I’m coating the front of my panties for him. From his vantage, he flashes me one last fiendish smile— fucking sin incarnate —before nuzzling into the apex of my thighs and presses a suckling kiss below my hipbone.

Oh, god. “Noah.”

He mouths at me, his breath hot and hard. I can feel the tip of his tongue through the fabric, that thin layer of separation enough to stop me from crying out.

He kisses his way up my body, his lips a hot cast iron across my oversensitive skin. Sweet baby Jesus, how is he so good at this? Each press of his mouth, each slow ascent feels so worshipful towards every inch of my skin.

This. This is why Noah is a vampire.

Still moving up, Noah ducks his head to swirl his scorching tongue in tight, teasing circles around one nipple, every hole in the fabric of the lace feeling like torture.

Fuck . My back bows off the blanket despite his weight, thighs straining to squeeze together for any sort of friction.

“Noah, please... ” I mouth soundlessly, chest heaving with the effort of drawing enough air into my lungs. Blue eyes flicker up to meet my desperate stare, darkened to storm clouds of desire.

His fingers dip below the waistband of my panties, not quite where I need him most. “I hope they’re watching,” he whispers in that voice straight out of a seduction playbook. “Bell and Pond. I want them to see how much I’m going to love every second of this.”

He kisses me as his hand delves into me, his fingers sliding easily through the wetness there.

“Christ, you’re so wet,” he groans against my lips. “So pretty, and so wet.”

“You—” I whimper as he circles my clit with his thumb. “You always have so much to say, don’t you?”

Two fingers push inside me, punishing me for my sass but I nearly sob with relief, my hips tilting to take him deeper. He sets a quick pace, pumping his fingers in and out while his thumb works over me.

“So much to say just for you,” he murmurs hotly, his lips brushing my ear. “I want to fuck you to so many songs, Roxanne.”

Good god. I can’t respond to that. My face burns as my eyes trail down to the meeting of our bare chests.

“Take off your shirt,” I command, hating how naked only I am at the moment—and not wanting to lose myself already.

“Yes, ma’am,” he rumbles with obvious amusement.

His fingers slide out as he leans back on his heels, eyes never leaving mine while kneeling before me like I really am some kind of deity he worships. He fists both sides of his button-down and throws the shirt down his arms, then tosses it somewhere above my head.

“Happy?”

“Yeah,” I say in a whoosh of breath. I'm a fucking TV bugging out when I start to eye all the tattoos now visible on his upper arm.

I’m not sure if I’ll ever get over the sheer beauty of him—a Poseidon rising from the waves, barely contained in mortal flesh, and damn do I want to be swept away in his tide.

He towers over me again, his hands planted on either side of my head, with his hips in between my thighs. My swallow is loud when his hard zipper twitches against me.

I know what he wants without him having to ask it.

I want it too.

He watches me with anticipation as I bend my back to reach behind me to unclasp my bra, smiling a little when the clasp echoes in the car. I slowly pull the straps down to my shoulders, teasing him before I toss it to the side, and there is a total paradigm shift when Noah’s eyes fall down on me.

Instinctively, I want to reach up and cover myself. He’s seen so many other girls naked before, and this is the first time anyone has ever seen my breasts. I’m still painfully fucking shy despite sometimes having the balls to sass him back, but I let him look, hoping he at least likes what he sees.

Taking a deep breath to steady the heartbeat in my ears, my own eyes begin cataloging Noah’s body: the curve of his hips that lead toward his jeans, and the delicate lines of his stomach that go down his tapered waist.

His arms push him up higher against the floor, and I, as usual, am caught off guard by the way his muscles move under his skin, the way his hair falls over his eyes like a curtain when he looks down at me.

I need him to react. Not a word has passed his lips and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. His eyes only get darker and I’m starting to lose my mind.

“What?” My hands cave and I reach up to cover myself. “Why are you looking at me like I’m gross?”

“Gross? No,” he cries out, sounding strained for words. “Perfect. You are perfect.”

A laugh pops out that I was not ready for. I try to muffle it with my hand, but I stop when his eyes move all over my face, his hand grazing my cheek. Each point of contact has sparks dancing across my nerve endings before falling away too soon.

Speak. Speak. Speak.

His throat works as he swallows. I picture the hard bob of his Adam’s apple while somewhere beneath my breast my heart does its lub dub .

“You know that feeling of seeing something you’ve never seen before?” He moves closer, dropping to his elbows and his nose touches mine. “Something that takes your breath away, making you want to touch it and never let go?”

I give the slightest nod, silenced by his breath brushing over my lips.

“That’s how I feel looking at you right now, but don’t worry…” His hand slips into mine, bringing it above my head as his thumb traces delicate patterns on my palm that burn up my entire body. “If I had to breathe, I’d drown looking at you.” His nose brushes up mine, voice faded to a mere breath. “Because I wouldn’t want to come up.”

My lips part but my vocal cords refuse to work.

Lub dub.

“You make me so unafraid, Roxanne. Like the sun breaking through storms. No darkness can touch me.”

My answer spills from trembling lips before I can think to call it back. “And if you were the rain, I would welcome even the thunder.”

Blindly I offer up my deepest fears as sacrifice on the altar of us , and there’s a new wonder in his face as he swallows down those words.

He pulls back to look at me, then that lower lip becomes a slash of sin as he drags it between his teeth, and he presses his thumb into the center of my palm, forcing me to suck in a breath.

“Then let the skies open,” he whispers, his eyes cutting to mine. “And maybe we’ll weather every storm together.”

I shiver when that earthy scent of his hits my senses. It’s foolish to offer someone power over your deepest vulnerabilities. While I may not fully understand this thing between us, this need to be near him always, I know that Noah makes me feel safe in ways I’ve never known. Makes me imagine impossibilities. Such as welcoming the thunder and rain I’ve spent years dreading.

He’s done something to me. He’s cracked me wide open as easy as an overripe pomegranate, scattering the pulpy seeds of my emotions.

I brush back a lock of hair, but it falls right back into his face. “For the record, I’ve never had a friend who makes me believe I can be brave. You must be something special.” My right hand moves down toward his waistband, fingertips tickling him as they graze his stomach. “Now can you stop being cute and take off your pants?”

“Wow. I guess we’re jumping right in then—”

Is he serious? I cut him off by reaching around the small of his back to tug down his jeans and boxers together until I feel the soft skin of his ass, and his erection pops out against me.

“Even sex isn’t enough to shut you up, Nora.”

He laughs, and I nip underneath his jaw. Then his lips are on mine, his words are my air, and his tongue is that first drop of rain after weeks of harsh, dry heat.

My body sags into his, my entire self welcoming every bit of energy he has to offer me, and that breath we take together is that final sigh as the sun breaks through the clouds and warms my skin.

I tangle my fingers in his hair to pull him closer. I really could run my hands through his soft hair all damn day. But other parts of him are decidedly not soft as he grinds against me.

My brain functions start shutting down quickly. Coherent thoughts are becoming a thing of the past as pleasure coils tighter and tighter in my belly. Every slide of his body against mine ratchets up the tension until I’m wound tighter than a two-dollar watch.

“Noah,” I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. “I really need—”

“I know.” His voice is so wet and rough. “I’ve got you.”

His hand is slipping between my legs and oh ...

My hips thrust off the floor as he touches me just there. Sparks explode behind my eyelids, and I’m lost to the storm we create, the thunder of my heartbeat drowning out all else.

Let the skies open indeed . As long as Noah’s with me, I’ll happily dance in the rain forever.

He kisses me, his length pressed in between us, and my throat starts to run dry at the thought of what he’s going to feel like. I have been fantasizing about precisely what Noah Jackson could be working with for the last three months.

Who am I kidding—if teenage me had pulled her head out of her ass, it would've been way longer. So, yeah. I very much want to know, and somewhere over the rainbow and past the Bellpond woods, I am about to know.

With everything undone, including my sanity, he slips my underwear down my legs, tossing them to the side. I hold my breath as he tears a rubber with his teeth from the center console, slips it on, and adjusts himself in between my legs.

Sweet, sweet, holy hells. His tip brushes against my entrance as he shifts slightly, and I bite my lip, anticipating the first stretch.

But it never comes.

“What are you doing?” I gesture helplessly at our hips, eyes almost black with how wide they feel. I’m fucking impatient. “I’m dying.”

“You have to ask for what you want.”

He’s playing with me, right? Clearly not . He eyes me up as he starts to drag himself slowly up and down against me, drawing a line up the middle, circling against my clit each time before dipping back down again.

“Say please.”

“Seriously?” I spit out even more impatiently, too winded to really pack a punch, though.

“The most serious,” he answers.

“Please,” I grit out, my pride taking a backseat to the need pumping through my veins. “Noah, please .”

His grin turns feral. “Please what? Use your words.” He pushes inside me, barely enough to tease, then pulls right back out. “Tell me what you need.”

I want to smack him. I want to kiss him. I want him to shut up and get on with it already .

“Please,” I whisper. “I want you to fuck me as much as I want to express my physical hate on you.”

His breath explodes out of his chest and my face doesn’t budge.

I keep right on staring at him with the same pout on my face.

“If that’s what you need then yes, I can do that for you.” He punctuates that with a firm squeeze to my thigh that has me instantly wanting to wear his initials around my neck instead of my own.

There’s a moment of awkward shuffling, a misaligned thrust that has us both wincing and laughing. But then he settles back between my legs, sinking on top of me, and I melt under his bare skin against mine, covering me completely as I spread my legs so his hips can have room.

This time, my hand reaches down to help guide him, and Noah pushes inside, slowly, torturously , and I swear I see the secrets of the universe unfold before my eyes.

“Oh… my .”

He’s big. He’s thick. He’s perfect .

Every inch of him sinks deeper, stretching me, filling me. My head falls back as our hips press against each other, and we both let out twin groans once he bottoms out. There’s no space for even a breath between us.

“God, Roxy. You’re so fucking tight.” He hisses when I clench around him, trying to draw him in even deeper as he holds himself up with his forearms. “I’m gonna try not to bust in ten seconds.”

I arch into him, craving more contact. “I would take it as a compliment if you did.”

Once he stops shaking his head at me, his forehead drops to mine. He kisses down my nose, tenderly at first, and then I wrap my hands into his hair, lightly scratching my nails against his scalp as he starts to move against me in a low, steady pattern.

Each thrust hits that spot, filling up my barrel of rainwater even more.

“God, you’re good at this. Like, unfairly good.” I wrap a finger around his chain, pulling him down until he’s the center of my vision. “It’s kind of disgusting.”

“You think what you have right now isn’t unfair?” He smirks as he rocks nice and slow, with enough pressure to drive me out of my mind. “You could kill me with these thighs right now.”

I gasp when his hand slaps onto my left thigh, gripping hard.

“You’re just going to keep talking and talking, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you don’t like it? I’m here to make sure you get the most enjoyable experience.” His hand slides down the back of my thigh, starting to slowly grind again. “Just doing my part.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, my stomach tensing. Do not stop doing your part.

“I’m gonna rip that dumb smile right off your face.” The words come out as breaths instead of the intended threat.

“You say the sweetest things,” he teases, speeding up as the tip of his tongue flicks my earlobe.

Oh, shit . I’m already starting to warm up, every muscle in my body pulling tight. My eyes shift behind my lids as waves of heat roll off my skin each time he slides out to the tip and pushes back in hard, grinding against my aching clit on every downstroke.

“Keep doing your part, and don’t stop,” I finally whimper, digging my fingers into the back of his neck, using my thumb to trace the veins underneath his skin.

“I’m not planning to stop until you see those stars.”

“Noah,” I moan. His name falls so heavy and slow out of my mouth like a waterfall. I’ve never felt like this before. This feels so good. Too good.

I’m arching my back so far, almost bending in half…

“I love hearing you call my name.” As the car shakes and the wind rushes around the trees outside, the moonlight hits his chain swinging back and forth. “And I would very much like my name to be the only thing coming out of your mouth from now on.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” My nails rake down the sweat-slick flexing muscles of his back, stopping to dig into his soft ass, just above where his jeans are barely hanging on. “You only love hearing me beg for it.”

The thought of begging him for more makes me squeeze down on him tightly.

“Stop that or this will end way too soon.”

“Then move faster,” I pant, doing it again. “And harder.”

He complies with a groan that drizzles electricity down my skin, snapping his hips against mine at a punishing pace. The car creaks, the metal of his chain clinking in time with the slap of skin on skin, but I couldn’t care less. Let the whole forest hear us, let them know how thoroughly I’m being wrecked . That he is giving me everything no one ever could.

A line of sweat slides down the curve of my neck, and I open my eyes to see the sweat that beads on his brow, his muscles flexing with each grind. God bless his genes. He’s a work of art moving against my body, the heat between our mouths chasing away the cold from inside the car.

One hand wraps around my throat, not squeezing, but resting as his hips snap against mine. Each rough thrust drags my shoulders against the soft blanket, our tongues reaching out to try to taste each other.

When our mouths do meet, it’s like waves breaking on the shore. His wet tongue is the ocean, salt and wildness and endless depths I always drown in. It’s the sea spray on the wind that you taste on your upper lip when walking along the beach, of lightning strikes and ozone, of ancient seas teeming with prehistoric monsters.

Noah is the cool, soft rain that falls on the earth after a dead winter—rain that washes away the grime, leaving everything sparkling and new. The rain that clears the air and makes you want to breathe deep, filling your lungs with that freshness.

The thunder between us rolls again, loud as the fists of the same angry giant beating against the roof and walls I used to imagine.

Now they are Noah.

The thunder is the pounding of our hearts, the lightning is the sparks between us, and the rain is the sweat glistening on our bodies. His kisses against my thirsty skin are the soft patter of raindrops on my window waiting for him to come in, his embrace a flash of light illuminating the darkest corners of my soul. Noah has become my thunderstorm, and I’m no longer afraid to be caught in the middle of it with him.

The coil in my belly winds tighter, my body a desert bloom uncurling underneath him, opening up petal by petal to drink him in as his breaths come out quick like a series of short gas being pumped into a car.

I’m so close, teetering on the edge.

Just a little more, just a little harder…

At this point, this hill is only the sound of our breaths against each other’s lips as I move along with his hips. When he grinds down hard into me and knocks the air from my lungs, I moan, and Noah moans with me.

Our mouths conjoin to silence our sounds as the car rocks back and forth until I disconnect, dragging Noah’s bottom lip between my teeth as I look up at his eyes filled with so much black there is hardly any blue left.

“You taste like summer,” he rasps against my skin, licking a bead of sweat from the hollow of my collarbone. “Hot and sweet and salty. Could fucking devour you.”

My chest begins to burn and I feel the heat rising in my face. I don’t have words to say. All I can say is—

“Oh my God.”

“There you go, angel,” he whispers to me, both of us about to fucking come.

“I’m very, very close,” I choke, tensing around him.

“What does my girl need?” Noah whispers, nibbling gently on my earlobe.

“Talk me through it, please.”

“You’re so good and so pretty and you’re taking me so well,” he groans, his words becoming less sensical by the moment. “God, I am addicted to being inside you. I love showing you exactly how beautiful you are. Let go. I want to hear you. Give me all your good girl whimpers.”

I’m a mess as I make little noises at every single word that comes out of his mouth.

“Just look at me,” he murmurs, each stroke so fast and deep. “I want you to come for me. Goddamn. I want you to say my name the way you did that time on the hood.”

“Oh my god, Noah, you’re too much.” I throw my head back, right on the brink.

“I’m too much?” I hear that smirk while he thrusts harder, letting his head fall forward. “Look how good you’re being. You’re taking me to places I didn’t know existed. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Yes,” I cry, nails digging into his skin as I hold on tight.

“You can do it, let it all out for me. I want to be the only thing you’re thinking of for the rest of your life.”

Jesus. His words are what push me. The thing that has me standing in a downpour, his sweat pounding against my skin, cleansing and invigorating all at once. What has me releasing the moan pushing against my ribs as my body clenches around him, that makes me arch into him like a wave cresting as the moan tears through the air with his.

He undoes my knot, showering over me in wave after wave of bliss, Noah wringing out every last tremor until I’m boneless and spent.

Fireworks. Explosions. I’m pretty sure I transcended to a higher plane of existence.

Noah follows me over the edge, and knowing I’m the reason for it is enough to send me flying all over again.

We fully collapse in a tangle of sweat and limbs, his heart beating a tattoo against my chest, my hot breath bouncing off the side of his neck and hitting me back against my face.

“God… damn ,” he sighs, his voice so rough and sated.

“God, indeed.” I’m exhausted, my body still floating as I struggle to not pass out. I could melt right into the upholstery and become one with Kevin.

Kevin, now with added Essence of Noah! Eau de Filthy Decisions, anyone?

Noah presses a kiss to my temple before he rolls to his back, sliding out of me and groaning at the loss of contact. “Was that the animal magnetism you were hoping for?”

I snort with half an eye roll due to the fact that my lids are weighted down with sandbags. “The only thing missing was growling.”

“You want me to make a tiger noise for you now?”

The tips of my fingers reach out to scratch along his hip bone, then curl around the inside of his thigh. “Mm, go ahead. Surprise me.”

“Alright, hold onto your scrunchie.” He clears his throat dramatically, the first muscle flex of his abs. Then, he lets out a noise that I think is supposed to be a purr, but sounds more like a tiny kitten than the king of the jungle.

“You are so dumb,” I giggle, squeezing at his leg. “I love it.”

His brows jerk up, and a painful amount of tension slices through the air at what I’ve just said. Fucking fuck, you dumb, stupid, fucking, bonehead-nimrod.

I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I couldn’t . We’re not... this isn’t…

I mean, yes, I do love this. Love the easy conversation, the way he can make me laugh even when I’m so far beyond my comfort zone. But—

It’s the oxytocin talking.

I don’t think I have words for my feelings yet, not while I’m this tired and on the post-sex high. My head is in no shape to untangle them. And looking into his matching heavy eyes now, I get the suspicion that he can see right through to the truth I’m too chicken to say. He knows that this thing between us is so much bigger than what we think.

So much more .

“I mean.. I…”

I don’t finish the sentence, swallowing it down and letting the words sink like stones in my stomach. We keep staring at each other, the trees outside swaying louder, and my ears start to ring while my vision blurs around the edges the longer I dont blink.

Say something , I scream in my head. Anything, before this gets any weirder.

I open my mouth to let the babble spill out, but Noah surprises me.

He starts to laugh. Hard.

Not a chuckle, but a full-bodied, gut-wrenching laugh that shakes the bed of the car under us. Why is he laughing?

“What?!” I demand, my voice sharp as I smack at his chest.

“Nothing, it’s...” he hums, turning his chin back to the roof as he tries to catch his breath. “Maybe I do need to get a car after all.”

I gape at him for a solid three seconds until his right eye mists over to me. Then the laughter comes pouring out of me too, so hard and fast.

Noah is still Noah.

We lay there for a long time, giggles tapering off into comfortable silence. My fingers run up and down his chest, stroking his tattoos down his arms until our breaths slow. This quiet aftermath feels more intimate than the sex itself.

Noah scoops his arm underneath my neck, and pulls me close until my head is pillowed on his chest and his heartbeat lulls me into more peace. He looks down at me, his face red and my eyes warm, and I watch his teeth bite his bottom lip as he grins.

I tuck that look away inside myself, a pretty little memory to keep me warm on my cold, lonely nights, and I smile back.

My heart is already his. Whether I’m ready for it or not.