Chapter 45
HANNAH
Mornings are never easy, but lately, it’s been doable, and I won’t admit out loud that Noah has something to do with it.
We laugh at the top of the halfpipe over some out-of-pocket joke he made. Our typical banter of insulting one another has diminished, now leading to light topics and flirtatious quips.
Sometimes I catch his stare lingering on my ass, other times we can’t help but brush against one another, addicted to each other’s touch.
Noah starts his run, and I count on bated breath, waiting until he hits the ground from the Alley-Oop, but he can’t even finish the turn, the nose of his snowboard hitting the lip of the halfpipe, tumbling down the side.
There’s still a mental block, somewhere deep in his subconscious, distorting his reality.
Noah lies flat along the half pipe, staring up at the morning sun. I go to him, skidding to a stop, kicking up snow from my board, and peering down at his limp form. Noah breathes heavily, goggles blocking his eyes, and I can’t tell if he’s looking at me or not.
Removing my bindings and then Noah’s, I try to get him up, but he’s dead weight. “Come on, pretty boy, let’s run it again.”
He doesn’t budge the harder I pull on his arm. “Noah, come on.”
I yelp when he tugs back, falling on top of his chest. He wraps his arms around me, nuzzling his nose against my hair, inhaling deeply. “I wanna fuck you so badly right now.”
My heart pounds, his hands resting on my hips. I take off his goggles and find his pupils are wide as saucers. “You need to practice first, and I’m relaxed, so you can’t use my anxious behavior as an excuse.”
He grunts. “Red, I am an eager man right now.” He thrusts his hips forward, and I feel his erection through his snow pants. “Let me touch your perfect skin.”
Most of the time, his compliments don’t affect me; I try my hardest to let them go in one ear and out the other. But lately, one will slip right past my barrier and curl along my spine, forcing me to take a step back and panic to rebuild the walls I built.
This is one of those times.
Why let someone in when they don’t need to be there?
It’s a transaction, nothing more.
Untangling myself from his touch, I get to my feet, clapping my hands together. “Move, let’s go!”
Noah follows without protest, but I can sense disappointment as we climb to the top.
Because he needs to participate in the event. Without Noah, his star quality and amazing performance, we lose the hype and possible revenue. It all weighs on my shoulders, and if I can’t get him to complete one solid trick…
Noah snaps me out of my self-doubt monologue and kisses me, hot and with tongue.
I cave, the sensation hitting all the way to my core.
Our kissing turns sloppy, teeth and tongues colliding, wet sounds of our lips smacking, hands tangled in hair.
Noah pushes me against a solid pile of snow, claiming all my senses and thoughts.
My gloved hands reach for his face, wanting to take control.
Our breaths become labored, bodies rising in temperature, toes curling in boots, he’s sex on fire, and I’m caught in the flames.
Screw what others might see, I need him now. I break us apart, gasping for air. “We take a break, then go back, okay?”
He nods, not wasting any time, and demands we snowboard down the halfpipe. We make it in record time, crashing through his front door as he hoists me up around his waist.
Noah ignores the bed entirely, bringing me to the bathroom instead. I’m soaked and horny when he lets go to turn on the shower.
I look at him, puzzled. “Shower before sex?”
He removes the straps from my shoulders. “No, Red. I want to fuck you in the shower.”
He takes the liberty of discarding my hat, bending to help me out of my boots. Noah takes off his pants and shirt, his muscles defined by hard work at the gym and snowboarding, a body so sculpted I wonder if it will shatter like stone.
My fingertips trace along his defined muscles, humming in appreciation of his disciplined routine that keeps him fit. He stands completely naked, not afraid to show all of himself under the fluorescent lights. Then again, if I were someone of perfect caliber, I might do the same.
Noah’s eyes follow the pattern I trace, teasing my touch along his neck, watching him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His veins are thick and protruding, deliciously capturing my attention, as I find him utterly perfect.
I trace his lips, mouth slightly open, and stick my finger inside his mouth.
He gently sucks, pulling me by the waist closer to him, then releases my finger with a loud pop, brushing my cheek gently with the palm of his hand.
“Meet me when you’re ready.” Eyes of the deepest brown hold me still, just for a moment, forcing anything negative away, keeping my mind at peace.
He steps back and enters the shower, leaving the sliding door half open.
Water runs, steam clouds the mirror, and I wipe it to catch my reflection, red cheeks marked where the chilled wind touched. Freckles coat my nose, fading across my face. I stare intently, triple-checking my chin hair, making sure it stays at bay.
Slowly, I remove my clothes, layer by layer, watching as more of my skin is exposed—freckles dotting my shoulders, fading down my forearms. My breasts are round and heavy; I check to be sure my nipple hairs are gone.
My pants come last, my thighs thick, cellulite glaring under the light.
I hug my midsection. Maybe if I suffocate it, it’ll fall off my body.
Noah said this body is a temple, but all I see is the wreckage after a tornado.
Liam’s projection of negativity tries to penetrate my walls, but Noah’s acceptance keeps it safe.
I step into the shower, finding him facing it, dark hair wet and slicked back, water cascading down his body, catching the beautiful sight of his round ass. His presence does something to me, an instant reaction, and I’m drawn like a moth to his out-of-control flame.
He senses my stare and turns, smiling. “You made it.”
No point in hiding now, he’s seen everything, and if he wanted to run for the hills, then it would’ve already happened. “I did.”
Noah adjusts our positions, making me stand in front of the showerhead. He stands behind me and removes the showerhead, running the water along my skin. “I was getting worried you were going to chicken out.”
He moves it along my scalp, the warm water running down my back. It feels good having someone else take care of you.
“I like to experience new things.”
“Yeah?” his lips kiss my shoulders, moving the water further down my stomach. A click sound, then the pressure changes to jet, more force, circling my belly button. “Lift your leg on the lower shelf.”
I do as I’m told, using the bottom shelf to widen my stance, exposing my core.
Soft lips kiss, then teeth nip at my skin, making me lean my head back against his chest. The high I feel is something I’ll never have the right words to explain.
With Noah, everything is euphoric; his hands alone can wreck me, cause floods, even crumble the very ground I walk on.
My breathing quickens as Noah moves the showerhead even lower, just above where my clit is.
“Noah,” I whimper, legs spread, and every sensation hits me at once; his lips on my skin, water dripping down to my center, calloused hands gripping my waist. He sets me ablaze.
“I like it when you say my name, you make it sound sinful.” He moves the water over my clit, erupting a loud moan from my throat. God, it's divine how he circles the water around and around, my hips rocking along with it.
He laughs, a deep, tenor sound in my ear. Sucking on my neck, he continues to circle my clit with the water, my strings coiling tight. My hands move up into his hair, putting my full weight against his body for support, his hard erection against my lower back.
Pleasure builds fast from the hot pressure of the water, shattering when I come, letting go, climaxing so hard I think I see stars.
Noah takes my chin, forcing me to look up, and muffles my moans with his lips, kissing me like his life depends on it. We drink each other in, needy fingers gripping and tugging skin.
He puts the showerhead away, and I waste no time wrapping my arms around his neck, kissing him. Our tongues move, sounds of pleasure heightening my sensitive skin, already wet. Noah is a dream, a wild dream I know I could wake up from at any point, and it’ll be all over.
I crave him constantly, and not only his touch but the sound of his voice, how he walks, and forces the entire room to shift its attention to him. But in a crowded room, he finds me, and our bickering suddenly becomes inside jokes and deep conversations.
He became a friend…with extra benefits.
I break our kiss, moving to face the shower door, bracing my hands on the glass. “Take me here, Noah. Please.”
He groans, the sound of a wrapper tearing from teeth, a minute of adjusting the latex condom on, and he’s already inside me, sighing with satisfaction.
My breasts are pressed against the glass, my hands above my head for support. The more he fucks me, the louder I get, thankful running water creates a buffer.
We fit perfectly together, our bodies molding into each other, while Noah circles my clit with his finger at the same time.
“Red,” he moans, taking a fistful of my hair and pulling me back so I’m seeing him upside down. His lips find mine, kissing me until my head spins. My legs shake as I try to stay upright, getting lost in one another.
“Noah,” I whimper against his lips, and my insides coil, bracing for the fall. I’m almost there, almost at the top. He drives into me.
It approaches fast, crashing down into rough waves when I come, knowing he’s following right after. He presses into me, my breasts sticking to the glass door, calling me by my nickname like it's the sweetest sin.
I’ve never come so fast before, not even with Liam.
Noah lingers inside me, kissing my shoulders, his nose dragging up my neck as water continues to spray down on us. “You always smell so good after sex. Why is that?” He nibbles on my earlobe, then slowly pulls out, leaving me empty.
I whimper from lack of contact, easing myself off the glass doors, hearing my skin peel away. “Do I?”
Noah nods and guides me under the showerhead. “Let me wash you.”
Taking my favorite shampoo, Noah lathers it in his big hands and motions for me to turn around.
He rubs my scalp, massaging behind my ears, down to the base of my neck.
It’s heaven how he uses his fingers to rub the shampoo in, taking his time, being so gentle.
My eyes are rolling, and I’m moaning by the time he rinses it out.
I lean back into his chest, watching him squirt body wash gel into a cloth, squishing it together to create suds. He glides it around my skin, washing my arms and chest, right over the peaks of my nipples, adjusting me forward to get my back.
“I don’t think you realize how good this feels,” I moan, dropping my head.
Noah reaches my ass and washes it in circular motions. “You’re right, I don’t.”
I blink and move, forcing him to stop. “Really?”
“Yeah, it’s not a big deal.” He says it's like a meteor might crash any second, and he’s totally fine. “I enjoy washing you.”
I grab the cloth, making him turn around. “Let me.”
“Red, you don’t have to.” He’s trying to grab it back, but I keep it secured in both hands behind me.
“I said, turn around, Noah,” I command.
He looks, lips in a hard line, definitely holding back from protesting. But he surprises me by giving me his back, head bent forward.
My hands shake for some reason, maybe it’s me realizing in this moment how intimate our showering together is, especially washing one another, but I don’t care. I want to wash him, to cleanse away any negative thoughts. To ease his muscles and tension along his back.
He flexes under my touch when I begin to wash from shoulder to shoulder. He’s truly a work of art, Michelangelo's David, if I had to describe the perfection of Noah’s body.
His skin is smooth, not a single scar or blemish taints his tawny canvas. The urge to bite it and leave my mark has me biting my lip to keep myself in check.
Noah sighs when I touch his ass, mimicking his moves with the cloth. “You’re right, this feels amazing.”
I’m smiling so big I must look ridiculous. Noah Hart is letting me wash his body, he’s letting me intimately touch him, and I’m thoroughly enjoying every second of it.
Slipping my arms around his waist, I rub the cloth over his chest lightly. “Can you turn back around to face me?”
He turns, sadness touches his eyes, and it makes my heart ache. “Noah?”
But I never get the chance to finish, because Noah makes it his mission to kiss me senseless, leaving the cloth completely forgotten on the shower floor.