Chapter 32
HANNAH
My front door echoes a few soft knocks, pulling me from a horrible memory, staring at myself through the mirror with wide eyes. Maybe Maya got my SOS and brought me food.
I wish the door had a peephole, because I open it to find Noah leaning casually against its frame, pouting. “Why are you hiding from me?”
Okay, he’s full of himself. Second, I am DUMB for not asking who it is first. “I’m not?” Well, I am, but he doesn't know that… Does he?
“May I come in?” he asks politely, ignoring my weak deflect.
“Um…” He barrels in, not waiting for my answer, unbuttoning his black winter jacket and tossing it aside. He wears a forest-green sweater, dark jeans, and brown boots, hair a mess of unkept curls touching the back of his neck.
I shut the door. “Make this quick, I have things to do.”
He spins around, eyes so dark they leave me a little unsettled. “You skipped practice because you had things to do? Oh, Red, don’t play coy with me.” His voice turns sultry, and goosebumps dance along my skin.
“Is it so hard to believe you’re not the center of everyone’s attention?”
Noah comes closer, and my back hits the door. “But you thought about it, our little deal, didn’t you?”
I gulp. “Maybe.”
“How easy it can be to let your frustrations go, your anxiety to calm down by simply saying yes and letting us play?” Both of his hands hit the door above my head, and he looks down, our lips barely an inch apart.
Letting us play.
Shit, he’s heady, the smell of his cologne alone overpowers my self-control, even my mouth. “Maybe I want you to suffer. Maybe it’s time you didn’t get everything you want.” I’m losing my mind.
“What I want, Red, is something only you can provide.”
Noah leans in, grazing his nose along my neck, inhaling like he can’t get enough.
“Do you know what it’s like?” He deliberately kisses slowly down my neck, humming in satisfaction, a moan slipping past my lips.
I’m a traitor to my own desires. “How intoxicating you’ve become, right down to the smell of your skin? ”
“Yes,” I whisper breathlessly. Hannah, knock it off!
He hums. “Yeah?”
“More,” I whimper. Well, there goes all my self-control, out the goddamn window.
Noah’s nose continues to skim my skin along my neck. Oh no! Can he see any chin hairs I missed? Panic rises in my chest, but Noah takes it upon himself to take me in his arms and bring me over to the bed, a yelp escaping from my mouth when he plops me down on the mattress.
My body burns as he returns to kissing along my collarbones, my nipples peeking through my thin, white, cotton shirt. Right over the fabric of my shirt, he lightly tugs on my nipple with his teeth, the sensation nearly crumbling me to pieces.
I’m at a loss for words as Noah tugs gently on the bottom of my shirt, eyes searching my face. “May I?”
May he? My god, Noah is the first man since Liam to see what’s underneath…since my diagnosis. Will he like what he sees? Or will it disgust him to know this woman’s body is tainted?
Asking for my permission, coming from him, who has been nothing but arrogant and crude…is a whole other side of him, catching me off guard.
And we haven’t even kissed yet.
I nod, preparing for the worst, desperate enough not to stop him, because I’m already too far gone, and whatever common sense I had has clearly left my fucking brain.
His smile, slow and sensual, continues to draw my attention when his hand slips under my bra wire, cupping my right breast. My back arches on instinct, his fingers gently squeezing my hardened nipple.
I bite my lip, rolling my head back. “God, please.” How can he make such a simple touch so intoxicating?
“Yeah? Who are you praying to, Red?” His other hand grabs my left nipple, giving it the same attention, tugging, teasing. “'Cause right now, it’s just us, and if you’re going to pray, it’s going to be on your knees for me.”
I arch my back even more, shouting yes in my head. Instead, I whimper, because whatever I’m about to say never makes it out of my mouth.
As if our touch is in sync, Noah’s big hands cover my entire breasts, slowly using his palm to circle my nipples.
My legs instinctively latch around his waist, shamefully grinding, trying to create friction.
I’m gone, lost to my sexual desires; my body, which hasn’t been touched in two years, is starved for the very contact Noah provides.
He chuckles, his mouth inches from mine. “You like that? You like being touched here? Say yes, Red. Otherwise, this stops now, and we can go right back to just hating each other.”
He makes it so easy to give in, to forget my surroundings, and become consumed by the very essence of his presence.
If I say yes, I’m demolishing barriers I’ve kept up since Liam left, for it to crumble to the wrecking ball that is Noah Hart.
“Noah,” I breathe, using my legs to pull him closer. His erection presses through his dark jeans, his length rubbing against my clit. I sigh once I find the right spot, rocking against him. “Noah,” I repeat, mouth agape, his hands working against my nipples.
My bed is the only place to support my back as I grind against him, a sensation beginning to build, my body coating with sweat. Noah mimics my moves, using more force to entice a louder moan from my mouth.
“Noah, please,” I beg, panting like a dog in heat.
“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg,” he purrs.
I need him to kiss me. Why won’t he kiss me? Wait, why do I want him to? I shouldn’t want this!
My sexual desires have other ideas. “I need more,” I whimper, keeping my eyes closed so I don’t have to face my awkward begging.
“Say yes, Red.”
Fuck it. I want our bodies slick with sweat, intertwined for hours until we lose consciousness. “Yes.”
Noah grips my chin. “Now, open your eyes, Red. I want you to look at me when you ask for something.”
His command arrests me, how he keeps it gentle with his touch, yet his voice holds all the power. I squint harder, unsure of my desires, aware of the force those brown eyes can do to a girl in just seconds of contact.
“Red, baby,” he coos, halting his movements, slipping his hand free from under my shirt to stop my pelvic thrusts against him. “Open, please.”
My left breast misses his touch. I peek at him, and he hovers over me, waiting, his hand keeping my chin raised. “If I ask, please don’t laugh. Promise?”
His smile is soft, reassuring as he nods, waiting, keeping his body hovering over me. “I promise.”
“I… I—”
Loud knocks rattle my front door, freezing my speech, the breath escaping from my lungs. Reality comes rushing in, forcing us to face what transpired, reminding us with just one look, how much we truly loathe one another.
And I fucking said yes.