17. Georgie #2
“Don’t ask me that,” I say softly. Good god I want to win everything. You. I want to win you.
Noah gestures for me to close the distance, so I do, standing in front of him.
“I don’t intend to lose. But should I fail, what would you want to win?” He closes the distance between us, until he’s looking down at me with whimsy and something wicked in his eyes.
“I don’t think you could handle it,” I say breathlessly.
He hums, the wickedness growing, “I think you’ll be surprised. Try me. Unless you’re afraid I will win, unless—” He chatters on but I can’t focus on his words.
Everything about him sets me on fire. His cheeks bright and flushed, his lips so pink and soft and kissable it hurts.
He’s talking to me, his voice is like the baseline for my heart, the steady booming in my ears as he taunts me with all the what ifs, pressing his luck just to see where this will go.
His hands scratch at his hip lazily, like he’s not anticipating much from this interaction but a stare down.
But I can see the v-line slipping down in the waistline of his pants, the tanned skin there I want to bite. It consumes me.
“I’m sorry I just—” I can’t hold myself back any longer.
I kiss him because it’s the only way to shut him up and make me breathe.
The tiny oh escapes his lips as I press myself against him, his back against the cool wall of my apartment, keeping him exactly where I want him, where I need him to stay.
The noise is something I want to hear on loop.
He sighs and melts into my efforts, kissing me back and grabbing me by the small of my back, holding me close.
Noah is kissing me back, and oh god it’s everything.
His lips are soft and pressing against mine like it’s the only place he wants to be, parting just slightly to let me in and take what I so desperately want.
His hands are fisting the back of my shirt.
He doesn’t take the lead, allowing me to explore him for myself.
We’re pressed together, our bodies yearning to be touching in every possible place.
It’s like everything that is wrong in the world just clicks in the moment. It feels right.
Noah tastes sweet from our drinks, and smells warm and inviting. He’s a heady scent that intoxicates me and overwhelms my senses, softly like the crisp air and woods from our walk earlier and the rest just completely Noah. It makes me want him even more.
Every second we spend breathing each other in is sensual, intense; it’s so much and not enough.
I want more, need more. But then he pulls away, his eyes are wild and wanting, big honey brown eyes taking me in, cursing and squeezing my ass just because he can and pushing against me so I can feel him, oh god I can feel him pressed hard against me.
I twists my hands in panic, “I’m sorry if that was too much I just—”
“Georgia, do not even finish that sentence.” He stops me before I can apologize further.
“Should I—should we… I mean.” My mind is in shambles; I have no idea what I want to ask, what to say, how to ask him if we’re okay—if any of this is okay.
He pulls me close, so close that my face presses to his chest, and all I can do is fall into his embrace as he rests his face in my hair. I can hear him breathe me in and let out a contented sigh, and it’s so nice just to be held. I didn’t know I missed that.
“I am going to go home and read this book, and then we are going to have a book club discussion tomorrow,” he murmurs, letting me pull away when he’s satisfied with our hug.
“What? You’re leaving?” I say, stunned.
He grins. “I can’t play all my cards at once, Georgie. Gotta keep you guessing a bit.”
He leans down, meeting my gaze and raising his eyebrows as if he’s asking for permission to kiss me again.
I wrap my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in, gripping the hair at the scruff of his neck.
He lets out a soft noise of appreciation against my lips.
I would do anything to hear that noise forever.
It’s addictive, hearing it, feeling how much he likes it in his smile, the way he presses against me.
The fact that he wanted to kiss me again tells me everything I need to know.
My mind, once racing about whether or not it was just me feeling this way, has all but calmed.
He wants me, and I want him. So, so badly.
“Until we meet again,” he whispers against my forehead, kissing once, twice, and again before heading to my front door to leave.
I watch him in fascination, the way he toes into his shoes, the way he holds the book that started all this between his chest and his chin, just enough so he doesn’t drop it and balances on one foot like a graceful dancer. He gives me that knowing grin that makes me want to climb him like a tree.
“Noah,” I say as he steps out into the hallway.
He turns back to me, curiosity on his face.
“You asked what I want to win if you lose the bet…”
“Yes?” His tone is amused.
“I’m going to keep my cards close to my chest too, but… I sincerely hope you lose.”
He laughs, head thrown back and chest shaking, but then he gives me a look so hot and fierce it leaves me as breathless as his words,
“Georgie, believe me when I say that in either scenario, I think I’ve already won.”