Chapter 37
Lewis
We held hands until I pulled up in front of the shack.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Puppy?” I hadn’t meant it as a question but it still came out as one.
“Yes, I’ll come over with my stuff in the morning, okay?” He leaned over the middle console and hugged me around the neck. I buried my face in his scarf and inhaled his scent. “Lew?”
I backed out of the hug and met Noah’s warm hazel eyes.
“Noah?”
He swallowed hard.
“I’ve changed my mind.” I flinched, fearing the worst, but his hands palmed my cheeks, and he forced me to meet his gaze. “Don’t freak out on me, Sinclair. Listen first.”
A smile played on the corners of his mouth when I nodded.
“I don’t want you to go back to the distillery tonight. I didn’t want you to see my mess, but …”
“You know that I want all parts of you, even the messy ones,” I finished his sentence with a peck on his nose.
“Yeah.” He sniffed and smiled at me through the tears that pooled in his eyes. “Will you stay? Please?” Noah’s voice cracked on the last word and I, fuck, I kissed him.
“Of course, I’ll stay.”
I dropped Noah off, then parked further down the path in a lay-by behind the trees. Before I entered, I got some more firewood. Cuddling in front of the fireplace was the only thing I would miss about this place.
Noah dashed around the cottage with an assortment of random stuff clutched to his chest by the time I shut the door behind me and pulled my shoes off.
I dropped the firewood by the grate and pulled him into a hug.
“No, I need to pack these—”
“Hey, shh,” I whispered when he tried to free himself and cupped the back of his neck. “That’s it, you’re okay.”
Noah relaxed in my hold and took fewer shallow breaths.
“It’s okay,” I repeated as I held him to me.
He said he wanted me to restrain him.
Let’s start now.
“There’s nothing you need to do now.” I dropped my voice to a point where it came out as a low purr. “Just breathe for me.”
Noah inhaled a shaking breath.
I hummed. “You’re being such a good boy for me, Puppy.”
The hand that wasn’t still holding onto Noah’s neck trailed down his body. I slipped it under his sweater and palmed his hip.
“Remember that fantasy of yours you told me about?” I’d enquired about it a bit more in depth after he fucked me, and the idea hadn’t let go of me since then. Up until a day ago, I’d thought it would stay that: a fantasy. But we had all the time in the world now. We had us.