37. Chapter 37
Chapter 37
Noah
T he days had turned beautiful in Savannah—winter was never too cold, not like New York and Boston. Since I moved back to my city of birth, so much had changed—for one, my priorities were completely flipped.
As we sat at Old Vic's, Stella next to me and Royal and Neveah across from us in a booth with a view of the river, I was grateful for all my blessings.
Stella and I had decided to have a quiet Thanksgiving at home. We were both homebodies, enjoying our time with one another, and choosing carefully when we went out with others. I'd always had a small circle of friends, and Stella was the same. But even with her friends, she told me she had barriers and walls, but many of those seemed to have disappeared during the months she'd worked on herself, pulling out of her depression.
"I'm going to go home after Thanksgiving," Neveah told us when we went out for dinner a few days before the long weekend.
I didn’t like the sound of that and was about to snap at Neveah, when Stella stroked my thigh. I immediately tempered myself. She had that effect on me.
"What's going on?" I asked gently.
She shrugged. "I miss my little man. Talked to Marco yesterday, and he was crying."
Marco was Neveah's godson and she loved him; but that was not why she was going back. Something else was going on because she refused to look at Royal. He, on the other hand, was wearing his poker face.
Royal rubbed her shoulder. "She feels guilty for leaving you and Stella."
Neveah shrugged his hand off of her. What the fuck?
"Do you want us to come to Los Angeles with you?" Stella asked, surprising me.
Neveah's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Sure," I agreed. My family was Neveah and Royal.
"You want to come too, Royal," Stella asked.
My sister was about to say something when Royal beat her to it. "I wish, Sweet Stella. I really, really wish."
"What am I missing?" Stella looked from Nevaeh to me.
The Legere family spent their holidays on Hilton Head, where his family had an estate in Palmetto Bluff. I declined pretty much every invitation I received from them. The Legere's had made their money in the fine food industry, and had a presence globally. Royal was the youngest Legere, and had left the family business, which his older brother, who ran Legere Foods, never let him forget. His sister was an addict who spent as much time in rehab as out of it. And his parents were the worst snobs.
"Royal's father makes yours look like an honest choir boy," I explained.
She gasped. "Worse than Baron Hunt?" Immediately, she looked around to make sure no one overheard her.
Royal chuckled. "Oh, yeah. And I have an older brother and sister—Duke is a narcissist, and Regina is always high on pills, and our parents are fucked up six ways to Sunday. But my grandma expects me to be there. For her, I spend Thanksgiving Dinner and Christmas Day on Hilton Head with some very reprehensible people."
"Don't go," Stella told him.
Before Royal could answer, our server brought our dinner. My fiancée persisted in her line of conversation with my friend. I wanted to stop her, I knew it made him uncomfortable, but hell, her relationship with Royal was her business. Just like I didn't interfere in his relationship with my sister—I wouldn't interfere in Stella's relationship with her brother, either. She was family just like my sister was.
"I have to. My grandma—"
"Will understand if you tell her how miserable you are. Go see her the day before or the day after. Hell, invite her over to our place, and you both can eat turkey with us," Stella continued incensed. "You don't owe them anything. I spent so many years— wasted so many years—being unhappy during the holidays, going because it was expected. I wish I hadn't."
Royal smiled, and put his hand on Stella's and squeezed. "Darlin', you're a gem amongst women. But I have to."
She nodded sadly, and cut her duck breast with a knife. "I know you have to find your own way. I stopped going for a few years. Then Daddy offered money to invest in Savannah Lace, which I should never have taken. It came with so many strings. Go out with this guy. Date that moron. Come for all Hunt events. Help raise funds. Show up for holidays. And all the while, I was treated like a dirty outsider."
I stroked her back. She never used to speak so openly, always keeping it inside, but lately, she had pulled down her walls. She was speaking her mind. Some of it was therapy, I knew that, but the rest was pure and simple Stella. Her strength awed me. Her ability to keep growing into a better version of herself was sexy as fuck.
Life with Stella was amazing . She had stopped talking about moving to San Francisco, but I didn't know what her plans for the future were.
That night, after we made love and I held her, I asked the question burning my insides. "Are you staying with me, Sweet?"
She nuzzled against my chest and bit me gently. "You want me to?"
"Yes."
She raised her head. "I'm not well, Noah."
I knew she was talking about her depression. Therapy was helping. Anti-depressants were working. But I knew that it just took the time it took . It had been the same with Neveah.
"You're getting better every day." I ran a finger down her cheek. I was so in love with this woman; she centered me with her kindness and her humility, and she kept me on my toes with her fire and passion.
"I know." She paused for a long moment and then whispered, "I'm not ready for…."
"For?"
She licked her lips. "Tell me instead what you want."
"I want us to get married and for you to get rid of your I.U.D. so we can start having babies. I want a family with you. I want everything."
Her eyes filled with tears. "I want that too, but I may be too broken, Noah."
I sat up against the headboard and held her to me, letting her tears wash over my chest.
"You're not broken, Sweet. You know, Nina told me that she liked the new you. She liked that you stood up for yourself, got rid of your snooty family, and stopped them from controlling you. As much as she hated me for hurting you, she also thinks that you are stronger for it."
"That sounds like a whole lot of bullpucky," she sniffled.
I kissed the top of her head. "She said you were like kintsugi ."
"The Japanese art form where they use gold to seal breaks in a pot?"
"Just like that. All your broken pieces are together, stronger, and when I'm with you, I feel that I have found my other half, the piece that makes me whole."
She shifted her body so she was straddling me. I held her, lining her up against my erection that was still wet from her, still semi-hard. I felt her wet heat and went from semi to rock solid in sixty seconds flat.
"What do you want, baby?" I cupped her breasts and teased her nipples. She was warm and willing, soft, and loving. Also, afraid. Part of it was on her childhood, but the other was on me. If I hadn't fucked up that first time, we'd have already been past this uncertainty; we’d be together, have each other.
She moved her hips to rub her pussy against me. My head dropped back. My eyes narrowed to slits as I watched her while I played with her breasts.
"You feel so fucking good, Sweet," I groaned.
My hands snaked around her ass, and I kneaded the cheeks, filling my palms with her. I brought her lips to mine, and began to fuck her mouth with my tongue. I didn't penetrate her, enjoying the torture of being close but not inside her.
Her arms wrapped around my neck, and she pressed her breasts against my chest. She deepened our kiss, and I pushed my cock against her soaking-wet pussy again and again.
"Do you feel me, darlin'? Do you feel how hard I am for you? How wet you are for me."
"Noah," she panted, thrusting her hips toward me, wanting to take me inside, but I held her immobile.
I moved my lips from her mouth, over her cheek, and kissed my way down to her neck. I suckled her skin, bit gently, and then licked. She was grinding into me, and my dick wanted so badly to be inside her. But I didn't want to go fast. I wanted slow. I wanted to make love.
"Noah." She got up on her knees, bracing herself on my chest. She grabbed me and sunk on top of me, taking me deep.
"Fuck," I cried out because she was spasming around me. Squeezing me. "Ride me, slut. Now!"
We went from sweet to hard. I went from wanting to savor to needing to devour. She started to move her hips over me. Her pussy hugged my cock, hot and silky. She didn't do shallow. She took me all the way in; and the pleasure blew my mind.
She moved a hand between us and started to touch her clitoris. I just about came watching her pleasure herself. I couldn't look away, and began to thrust up hard into her.
I locked my eyes with hers and guided her up and down, taking control away from her, wanting to set the pace. She lowered her mouth to mine, and licked me. I growled, and kissed her hard. Our tongues started to duel, and I grabbed her hair, exposing her neck. I touched my lips to her beating pulse and suckled it, driving her crazy.
"Oh, baby, you're coming again."
My need was ridiculous now, but I didn't want to end this too soon; I wanted to stay inside her so I could keep feeling like this —and be able to see in her eyes how much she loved me. Because Stella Hunt didn't fuck, she made love…every time.
"Noah, baby." Her head was thrown back. "Come for me."
"Yeah."
I licked her neck. "Come for your whore, Noah," she cried out.
And I blew, sinking my teeth into her sensitive skin, feeling her spasms as I emptied inside her.
"I love it when you lose control," she told me as she panted, finding her breath.
"I'm always about two seconds away from that when I'm with you," I admitted.
She laughed, and I raised my head to see her, to see that glorious joy on her face. I kissed her lips softly, wanting to drink in her laughter, because nothing compared to the feeling I got when she's happy.