Chapter 35
NOAH
Fuck. What is this?
For the first few moments, my brain struggles to process the soft give of the mattress and the heavy, faded quilt draped over my legs. There are no concrete walls. There is no blaring siren or the sharp, horrific clang of cell doors sliding open.
There’s just the quiet hum of the central air and the warm, soft weight of Rue tangled against my side.
Right. We’re in this bed. In some guy’s house. On the run.
Still, I don’t know why sleep always resets me back to prison.
Some light is trying its hardest to bleed through the cheap plastic blinds, casting pale, golden stripes across the messy sheets.
Rue shifts against me, her breathing hitching slightly as she wakes.
She blinks her pretty eyes open, looking up at me with a softness that makes my chest physically ache.
All I want is her.
I reach out with my good arm, trailing my knuckles down the soft curve of her jaw, brushing a tangled strand of blonde hair from her face. She leans into my touch, a soft, sleepy sigh parting her lips.
“Morning,” I murmur, my voice rough with sleep.
Her eyes darken with that familiar, desperate pull, and she completely closes the distance between us.
Her lips crash into mine, and I let myself melt into the taste of her, my hands going for her waistband. I tug the pajama pants down, taking her underwear with it. She lifts her hips to help me, and I flip the covers back, then toss the clothes to the floor.
“Noah,” she murmurs, as my kisses trail away from her jaw.
Her fingertips thread through my hair, as I kiss my way down to the collar of her T-shirt. Quickly, I pull it over her head, her breasts now on full display.
Fuck, all I want to do is worship her.
I lean away, my eyes drinking her in. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Rue.” Every fucking curve, every blemish, every bruise—it’s all her. And nothing is more intoxicating than her.
Her pretty eyes hold mine as I lower again, placing a kiss on each of her breasts. I’d like to stay there and kiss them, but the sweet scent of her pussy is too enticing. I make my way downward, pausing to kiss her hips and then her lower abdomen.
Finally, I kiss her clit. And my cock goes rigid.
I run my tongue through her slit, then, lapping up every drop that she’ll give me. She tastes unmistakably like herself, and I could spend all day right here between her legs. The ache in my shoulder dies to my arousal, and I press her thighs further apart, spreading her open for me.
My lips curl around her clit, and I suck gently, and two of my fingers slip into her pussy, curling upward.
“Noah,” she pants, her hips bucking against me. She grinds then, as slide my tongue against her, gyrating. “Oh fuck.” Her pitch increases, her leg muscles tightening around my head.
But I don’t fucking stop. She’s so addictive.
“Soak my face, baby,” I groan into her. “Come on.”
She lets out a cry, her back arching as I pick up my speed. Rue’s legs begin to tremble, and her fingers keep moving in rhythm with my mouth. My cock throbs as I feel the buildup.
And then release.
“There it is,” I breathe into her, lifting my eyes just enough to see her sweet face contort with pleasure. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.
But the woman who framed me is the hottest one I’ve ever seen.
I clean her up with my tongue, and then slowly raise, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her mouth. She kisses me back, then grabs the top of my shoulders.
And shoves me back on my back.
“My turn,” she breathes out.
I furrow my brow. “What?”
Rue gives me a wicked grin and then goes for my waistband. I let her tug them down, helping her along. My cock stands erect, precum pooling at the tip. She discards my pants in the same area as hers and then crawls over me.
“Rue…” I eye her as she leans forward and kisses the tip of my cock.
She rubs her lips across, smearing it like her own personal ChapStick.
Oh fuck. My core tightens as she bats her pretty lashes at me, her cheeks a slight shade of crimson.
“I haven’t gotten to do this…” Her voice trails off as her plump lips part, and then her tongue curls around the head of my cock.
“Oh fuck,” I pant, my hips bucking at the sensation.
It’s been so damn long since this has happened.
“Go slow, Little Rabbit,” I say through gritted teeth, as she eases her mouth down over my shaft, taking it into the warmth of her mouth.
And it feels so good.
“Fuck. Fuck.” The words slip out as she grabs the bottom of my shaft, working it along with her mouth. She starts out slow, just like I asked, her rhythm almost borderline torture.
I reach down and fist her hair, holding it out of her face. Her eyes flick toward me, and her lips curl into a smile around my shaft.
And it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Rue takes all of me then, slipping me down the back of her throat.
“Shit!” And that’s it. I can’t hold it back. I explode down the back of her throat, the taste of her pussy on my lips. She swallows it and then picks her head up, giving me a smile.
“It’s been a long time,” I huff, clearing my throat, as she crawls up to me and finds her place against my chest.
She plants a soft kiss on my cheek. “It’s okay. I’m still tired.”
“Me, too.” I squeeze her tightly against me and give in to the post-orgasm drowsiness.
My eyes finally flutter open when she shifts away from me. She sits at the edge of the bed in her oversized band tee, tying her sneakers. Bullet is pacing near the bedroom door, letting out a sharp, impatient whine.
“He needs to go out,” Rue says, looking back at me with a small, apologetic smile. “I figure since it’s night, it’ll be okay.”
I push myself up, rolling my shoulders. My left arm throbs, but the sharp, stabbing pain of the bullet wound has dulled to a manageable ache. “I’ll take him.”
“We can both go,” she breathes out. “It’s completely dark. And there aren’t any neighbors out here. I checked out the window.”
She’s right. Bill's property is surrounded by thousands of acres of flat, tilled dirt. The isolation that felt like a trap yesterday suddenly feels like a massive, protective shield.
But I’m still not letting her out of my sight.
We slip out the back door, the cool Texas panhandle air hitting my face. The sky is massive out here, totally unpolluted by city lights, exposing a brilliant, endless spray of stars.
“Go for a run.” I unclip Bullet’s leash. The old beagle immediately shakes himself off, his nose dropping to the dirt as he catches the scent of the wild. Suddenly, a pair of roosting birds bursts from the brush near the edge of the yard.
Bullet lets out a triumphant bay and takes off after them, his short legs kicking up dust.
“Careful, old man! Don’t go far,” I call out, but I can't help the quiet chuckle that escapes my throat. He looks like a puppy again, entirely thrilled by the chase.
Rue steps up beside me, slipping her hand into mine. Her fingers are warm, and our palms slot together like they were custom-made for it.
We walk aimlessly toward the back of the property, following the sound of Bullet sniffing through the tall grass. A low, rhythmic bleating sound catches my attention near a wire enclosure attached to the side of the rusted barn.
We walk up to the fence line. A pair of curious goats trots up to the wire, their rectangular pupils assessing us in the moonlight.
Rue laughs softly, reaching her hand out. One of the goats immediately presses its coarse head against her palm, begging for a scratch.
“I guess Bill likes goats,” she laughs, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
I stand there, watching her pet a goat in the middle of nowhere, the dog happily digging a hole in the dirt nearby. It is the most bizarre, domestic, and utterly peaceful moment of my entire life.
And I fully commit it to my memory, because if there’s one thing I know about my life is that the good times never last.
“Come on,” Rue tugs me back toward the farmhouse.
I let her lead the way, breathing in the fresh air, and trying not to let my mind wander too far from the confines of this place. Rue plops down on the wooden steps, and I take a seat beside her.
Bullet finally tires himself out, trotting up the steps to collapse heavily across Rue's feet, letting out a long, satisfied sigh.
I lean back against the porch railing, pulling Rue against my side. She rests her head on my chest, her hand resting flat against my stomach. The silence of the farm wraps around us, completely void of sirens, news anchors, or the crushing weight of the law.
I rest my chin on the top of her head, staring out into the dark fields.
This is what a normal life would feel like. Sitting on a porch. Watching the dog. Holding the woman you love.
And goddamn, I don’t want to leave it behind.