CHAPTER ONE
Snow paints the trees like a canvas—an idyllic setting for a winter vacation with friends. If Ava and her boyfriend ever show up.
I drag my eyes from the window and grab my phone; opening a text box, I type.
Where are you?
It doesn’t go through. No signal. Perfect.
I toss my phone onto the window-seat cushion beside me with a sigh. It’s still early. They may be dealing with traffic delays from all the snow last night.
I give myself an internal pat on the back for deciding to travel before the snow hit, grab my phone again, and open my notes from last week’s lecture. Ava isn’t here, so technically our getaway hasn’t started, and I’m not breaking her “no studying” rule.
Raising my morning cup of tea to my nose, I breathe in the sweet floral scent, snuggle into the sofa, and settle in for a few sneaky hours of studying.
“Selena?”
The voice booms like a grenade in the silent house, and I jump, literally. My butt flies off the seat, tea sloshes over the edge of the mug, and my phone skids across the wooden floor, smacking against the leg of a dining chair.
“Oh my gosh.” I jump to my feet and yank my soaking pajama top away from my skin.
“Shit. Are you okay? Is that hot?”
I snap my attention to the owner of the voice, my glare instantaneous.
Noah steps toward me, bleary-eyed and looking concerned.
Oh, and practically naked. His bare chest and sculpted abs lead my eyes down to a pair of black pajama bottoms hanging dangerously low on his hips and thin enough to show everything.
“My eyes are up here, Sharon.”
The tea has cooled significantly, but it doesn’t help ease the bloom of embarrassment heating my skin as I look up.
A knowing smirk curves one side of his mouth.
I want to throw the rest of my tea in his face, or mine for ogling him so obviously.
“No, it’s not hot anymore.” My brows pull together in annoyance. “And it’s Sophie.”
I swear he calls me by the wrong name on purpose, but with a revolving door of women to forget, I wouldn’t be surprised if he really can’t remember the names of the few of us who haven’t slept with him.
His lips twitch, holding back the smile.
On purpose—jerk. “What are you doing here?”
Ava assured me her boyfriend’s arrogant BFF had other plans and wouldn’t be here. It was one of my stipulations for giving up a week of studying.
“In my house?”
I blink in confusion. “Your place?”
“It’s my family’s vacation home.” He arches one brow. “Ava didn’t tell you?”
I shake my head. I’m going to kill her.
The other side of his mouth curls upward into a huge grin. “She must’ve really wanted you to come.”
“And you’re here just to torment me, I suppose?”
He tosses me a towel and winks.
The stupid flutter in my belly makes my jaw tighten. I won’t flatter myself by thinking Noah changed his plans because of me. Our mutual dislike of each other is known to everyone.
I attempt to focus on wiping the now ice-cold patch of fabric, but it’s hard to concentrate as Noah leans against a wall, folds his arms across his chest, and watches me.
His attention is as unnerving now as it was the first time we met. Why did he have to look so good just standing still?
“When did you get here?” There wasn’t a car in the driveway when I arrived.
“Yesterday.”
“I got here last night and I didn’t see you.”
“I must have been sleeping.”
I would have stormed back to the car and driven home in a huff if I’d known. I didn’t give up a week of study to be stuck with the guy who memorized every name beginning with S just to taunt me.
Noah’s gaze lowers to a spot in the direction of my chest.
Looking down, I catch sight of the wet fabric of my pajama top, now see-through from the tea and molded to my breast so tightly my nipples are on display.
Heat scorches up my neck, threatening to turn my skin into a tomato.
“I’d apologize but I’m not sorry.” His eyes do that smolder thing, like he’s some hero in a romance movie. It shouldn’t work.
But it does.
I chuck the towel at him, smacking him right in his arrogant face. His chuckle is low and far too dirty for my quickly hardening nipples.
“Let’s stick to different sides of the house until the others get here. Okay? Good.” I don’t wait for him to agree before I pick up my phone, fold my arms over my chest, and storm out of the room with as much dignity as an unintentional wet-T-shirt contestant could.
Finding the room I claimed for the week, I strip out of my wet pajamas and then check my phone.
Still no reception.
Ugh. Where are they?
The idea of being stuck anywhere alone with Noah is…
disastrous. After meeting him for the first time, I thought he was friendly, sweet even.
We’d talked for hours, and maybe I felt…
something… until one week later, when I walked in on him and my roommate on my bed.
The surprise on his face was nothing compared to the shock on mine when he let out a low, raspy grunt seconds later—staring at me the entire time.
A flutter of something I refuse to acknowledge erupts low in my belly.
Nope. Noah pretends not to remember my name, and I refuse to remember the soft part of his lips and the feverish look in his eyes as they locked on mine the second he came.
I grab my workout gear and earbuds, ready to sweat out all memories of that night and ignore Noah until the others arrive.
An hour later, my calves burn and my clothes cling to my body in sweaty patches. I slow down the treadmill, and I head to the bathroom to shower with my headphones still blaring my favorite workout mix.
The partially open bathroom door comes into view. I push it and step inside to find the shower on, water pelting against the tiles, and Noah standing beneath it—naked.
I suck in a breath, too stunned to move.
Steam swirls around the room, as translucent as the clear glass shower door hiding nothing.
Noah stands beneath the pelting water, head tilted back and eyes closed as I stand there transfixed, watching water dribble down his back, tracing the defined edges of muscle and sliding between his smooth, tight ass cheeks.
A surge of heat boils in my veins. I grip the door handle tightly to stop myself from falling over and pull out my earbuds.
I need to move, but my feet won’t cooperate, and my eyes seem to disengage from my brain, roaming over every inch of the guy I cannot stand.
One hand is pressed to the wall, the other hidden, but his elbow moves back and forth in a slow, seductive rhythm.
A muffled groan parts his lips.
Is he…
His hips shift slightly, revealing the fat red tip of his cock before it is quickly swallowed by his fist.
A jackhammering pulse slaughters my heart, and a heaviness settles in my breast. My once comfortable underwear turn into a delicate torture device—rubbing and teasing the quickly swelling bud beneath.
Noah is stroking his cock… I’m watching Noah masturbate.
Oh my gosh.
What am I doing?
I need to leave.
Noah’s strokes increase, building in intensity as his cock lengthens with each pump.
An unexpected moan rolls up my throat. I slap a hand over my mouth, eyes widening to the size of saucers.
Noah’s head shoots up, his eyes locking on mine.
Oh no.
Adrenaline fires like a bullet through my veins.
Run.
Crawl.
Find a hole to fall into and die.
Do something.
I stand there, caught like a deer in headlights, desperate to flee but unable to move.
Noah shifts through the haze of steam until he faces me—legs spread, knuckles white, cock red, swollen, and pointing toward me.
Every inch of my exposed skin blooms with color. I step backward toward the door, ready to run… straight to my car. Who cares if there’s a blizzard’s worth of snow on the road?
He steps forward, stopping inches from the shower screen, and shakes his head.
My heart stops as well as my feet.
Noah strokes up and down, almost like he’s performing. Does he… does he want me to watch?
Noah’s eyes hold mine as he flattens a palm to the glass. The other continues a slow, sensual glide down his shaft, completely exposing the entire length of his engorged shaft.
He’s so big.
An ache pulses to life inside of me, desperate and throbbing. It’s been too long since I’ve seen a man naked, even longer since I’ve touched one. Studying has been my only focus since starting college, leaving little time for extracurricular enjoyments.
I should leave…
Noah’s gaze is penetrating and steely, holding me in place. He continues a slow and steady pace with his fist, pushing and pulling in long, self-indulgent strokes like he’s in no hurry to finish.
My breathing picks up, my chest heaving with each breath as my nipples scratch against my top; they’e so sharp it feels like they might cut through the fabric.
Noah’s nostrils flare, and his pace turns frantic, his wrist jerking as he twists his hand around his shaft and tugs on his head. The wet fap-fap of his strokes are so loud I can hear them over the pelting water.
His low, guttural groan hits me between the thighs. Creamy liquid spits out of his slit a second later, spraying the glass in thick, ropy streaks.
Tension pulses down my spine, coiling low in my belly until my insides swirl like the wet steam and my clit pulses like the heavy beat of water on skin.
My fingers tingle with the need to slip beneath the elastic of my underwear and stroke until I find the same relief.
I suck in shallow breaths as I drink in the sight of Noah’s orgasm dripping down the glass.
Eyes still fixed on me, Noah reaches for the faucet, turns off the water, steps out of the shower, and slowly towels himself dry. Each brush of the fabric over his body is a perfectly orchestrated move. His hands slide like a conductor’s baton flick, making my heart beat in time with his rhythm.
He tucks the white towel low around his waist, the soft, fluffy cloth almost comical against the hard edges of his hip bones and the thick ridge of his…
My mouth turns into a desert, and my brain loses all motor function. I stand there like a gaping idiot, watching as he walks toward the door.
One brow arches, and a smirk worthy of the devil pulls at his mouth. “Enjoy your shower.”
He walks past me, leaving the evidence of his arousal dripping from the glass door like sticky candy—and, oh, I want a taste.