Chapter Nineteen
If I didn't fancy Noah before, I certainly would now.
Feeling any part of him touch me like this would've sent me over the edge, but the two fingers he currently has nestled deep inside me are almost like nothing I've ever felt before.
I think I was more desperate than even I realised.
His thumb presses up against my clit, rubbing gently as those two fingers inside me curl with a matching torturous pace.
"Jesus."
"Is it that easy to make you forget my name?"
His words are still spoken against my neck. I tilt my head to the left, allowing him to press closer, to peer over my shoulder so we can both stare at his tattooed wrist disappearing in my underwear.
He presses his cock into my clothed thighs as his fingers make me see stars. There's no hand movement I can discern, because the second I feel how hard he is I'm a mess, but I know he's rubbing me and touching me and feeling me in all the right places.
He might not be a fuckboy but he's certainly not unpracticed.
There are open-mouthed kisses being peppered along my elongated neck that have me biting my lip. My eyes are screwed closed, so lost in the feeling that I almost miss the way he pulls those two fingers half out of me and pushes them back in.
Noah sounds breathless too, whispering, "So fucking wet for me. I'm going to think of you like this every time you get into my car; every morning that I take you to work I'm gonna think about how good you feel getting off on just my hands."
His words and the small circles he's rubbing on my clit make me unable to speak, but how could I even begin to process and then respond to that? I can't think straight. I can't think.
Another string of kisses along my neck, wetter.
It's not enough. I want him closer, need him closer than he already is, so I press my neck into his mouth. When he begins to pull away I move with him. In response, he bites down on my skin and sucks.
It's gentle until I moan. Then he bites me harder, moves his fingers faster. I grind down to feel the length of his cock and he pushes his hips into me like it'll give him any sort of release.
His free hand snakes under my t-shirt and ghosts over my bra.
I push his hand underneath it and grind into the fingers that are still pushing into me. He squeezes my breast, my nipple already hard long before the touch.
"Part of me wants to beg to fuck you - not that I'd need to since you want me to that fucking badly," he curls his fingers again, thrusting up so I jostle in his lap. "But I'll fuck you in a bed the first time."
The slick wet noise of his fingers pushing in and out of me alongside the teasing tone that underlays every word he says makes my stomach coil.
Words don't come to mind so I don't say them, I just let my whimpers do the talking for me.
Knowing that he's actually planning to fuck me, instead of just tease me with this back and forth, is heaven. It's not an if but a when. Soon, I beg.
He mutters more things that would probably be slowly killing me, but there's a ringing in my ears because of the thumb circling on my very-sensitive, very-aware-of-who's-touching-it clit.
He doesn't have to look around to find it (hell, I've pretty much had to teach half of the guys I've been with where to even look,) he just knows. We're in sync.
"You sound so fucking good," he groans.
"I didn't..."
"What?" Smirking bastard.
Although, he probably deserves this smug reaction to the things he's doing to my body.
"I didn't expect you- to dirty talk. Like this."
"But you expected me to do this?" He curls his fingers up deep inside me, and I feel how long they are - how much bigger they are than my own. I think about the bones tattooed along each one, picturing the tattoo disappearing into me. "I think the dirty talk is only fair."
Having to reply while he continues to get me off is harrowing, but I need to take the bait.
"Why is that?"
"Because you've made it more than obvious that you can't keep your eyes off me."
I've given him an ego.
An ego that he more than deserves, undoubtedly, because he is the hottest person I've ever laid my eyes on. He doesn't give me chance to respond to that cheeky comment, because his hips buck up into me again, his fingers shifting deeper and his other hand gripping me tighter, and I'm almost there.
"Such a good girl for me-"
"Fuck, Noah-"
My back arches. I press my head to his shoulder and try to ride his hand in some sort of way, feeling as if I'm about to explode.
And then his hand stops moving.
My eyes pop open. I'm about to scream, shout - beg him to do whatever he was just doing, but my line of sight follows his and lands on the second car that has entered the deserted car park.
It slowly approaches us, and with Noah's fingers still inside of me, I make eye contact with the teenage boy driving.
His friend in the passenger seat, alongside another young boy leaning over them both from the backseat, smirks at me as they drift past.
There's a whole army of expletives at the tip of my tongue.
Fuck the whole Universe and every person inside of it. Fuck Noah for not picking a better abandoned car park. Fuck whoever bought that car those boys are in.
A soft whimper leaves my lips as his fingers slide out of me.
He fixes my clothes when he pulls his hands out of them, eyeing where the young boys have parked a few spaces diagonally from us.
There's still an orgasm built up tucked between my legs, but apparently it'll stay there until further notice.
I still feel his cock underneath me. It twitches when I shuffle up his thighs to stop my back from aching whilst sat on his lap in this cramped space.
Now that the stars have left my eyes, I can see the light layer of steam that covers each of the windows.
I can see where his sleeve has wiped at the condensation on the window next to him, and I can certainly see the glisten on his limp fingers, forgotten about settled on my lap as we both sit in relative silence.
My shaky deep breaths should be embarrassing.
I glance to the teenage boys in their own car, all with cigarettes now, laughing with each other about something or other. The abandoned car park is not the little secret Noah must've thought it was if it's the perfect hang out spot for smoking teens.
"We should go," he finally says, breaking the silence.
I hum in agreement. I also make a mental note to remember exactly how he feels underneath me - the erection, the firm thighs, the fact that his chest is so hard that I can feel every inch of it pressed against my back.
I try not to look at our new car park friends when I open the door.
The cold air hits me with a fright, licking around my seared skin. My cheeks burn despite the new breeze, fully aware of how red-handed we've been caught.
Due to Noah and I both being tall, I have to shuffle myself from his lap to get out of the car. I stand up with shaky legs, straightening out my t-shirt. Do not look at the teenage boys - it'll only make things worse.
The mantra continues in my head as I walk around to the passenger seat.
Noah is still where I left him. The car door still open next to him de-steaming the windows, I eye his pinched expression and hard jaw as I settle into my seat.
With another dirty look thrown at our intruders, he closes the door and turns on the engine. The heat follows, he slips into first gear, handbrake down, and we're on our way towards the exit.
My breath is still heavy. There's still an ache between my legs, but not the right kind of ache. Not the good ache that makes all other body parts feel obsolete.
Just as we turn onto the main road my phone buzzes, discarded on the dash.
Matt. Of course it's Matt. Who else could make the tingles all over my skin disappear instantaneously? Dread washes over me briefly, the colour draining from my face and the ghostly feeling of Noah's fingers on my skin vanishing.
Another text follows.
"Matt's asking where we are," I find myself telling Noah, staring at my phone screen.
He doesn't reply but I see his hands tighten around the wheel in my peripheral vision.
I text Matt and tell him we're on our way home, explicitly mentioning the driving lesson out of what I can only imagine is guilt.
I'm having a brief moral crisis when Noah finally speaks.
"Maybe we got a little carried away there."
It's a ridiculous statement. A little carried away? He fingered me and dirty talked in my ear. It's more than a little - hence the moral crisis.
"Just a bit."
We smile at each other.
Although we shouldn't be smiling about it at all. Noah Laurier lives with my brother. He is my only brothers closest friend and has been for many years. Me getting off with him shouldn't be something to smile about - but my mouth doesn't know that.
"You're going to get me in a lot of trouble," he says.
"That's weird. I was just thinking the same about you."
I watch his mouth twitch at the corners.
"I think we're both not taking this seriously enough," I suggest, still eyeing the smile that wants to break free.
"This?"
Cocky prick.
"You getting hard whenever you look at me."
I get that smile instantly because he breaks out into a laugh.
I can't contain my own grin either, but my words are still true.
He knows they are - just like he knows that I can't keep my eyes off him.
He had heaps of fun teasing me about that fact the entire time he was touching me only a couple of minutes ago.
Noah bites his lip and shakes his head as the laughter dies.
"Coming from the woman that got in my bed and got undressed for me."
"You're the one that stayed to watch."
A laugh.
"Should I remind you about that night on the couch?"
I'm so horny that even this conversation is turning me on. Looking at Noah drive turns me on.
I am in a perpetual state of wanting to fuck Matt's best friend with whatever consequences may come along with the act. Family be damned.
"Weren't you just saying that you're going to fuck me?" I mock. "Or... what else was it? That every time you drive this car, you'll think of how I feel wrapped around-"
"Madelaine." His tone is a demand. One that I follow easily, because it means I've won this little flirting fight.
I squirm in my seat and play with my fingernails.
He's probably getting hard again right now. How easy it would be to reach over and check for myself, but there was something else behind that tone - something that tells me he's having a bit of a moral crisis too.
In a few minutes we'll be in the same room as my brother, and he'll be none the wiser.
Matt wouldn't suspect a thing because he trusts us. Because the thought of his best friends and his sister getting it on wouldn't even cross his mind - which is why Noah's touchy-feely attitude towards me goes unnoticed around the clock.
And I feel doubly guilty because Matt and I have never been as close.
He's never come to me about advice with women. We've never hung out in the same group of friends. We've never even gone out to eat dinner together without our parents - and yet here we finally are, living together and actually acting like brother and sister instead of strangers who share a house.
I can't believe I'm about to say this.
"I think we need to try harder to not do... whatever it is we're doing." My words are carefully selected and gentle.
Noah nods, "I know."
"This is the first time Matt and I have been getting along for - I don't know how many years."
"I know. He told me." He sighs. We turn onto our street. "It's my fault really - I keep looking for ways to get you alone," I'm surprised by a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. "I'll be your taxi again. Strictly professional."
I find myself nodding too.
"I'll try to stop staring at you," I promise, only half-serious.
"And I'll... stop ending up with you on my lap so often?"
Ouch. Hearing it out loud makes it hurt my chest a bit.
It's been so easy with Noah since I moved in.
Sure, we've been flirty and he looks like the stuff of my dreams, but there's never been any awkward tension.
Living with him hasn't been hard at all, and in the back of my mind I'm vaguely aware that my crush goes beyond surface level at this point.
But my relationship with Matt should really come first.
We pull into the driveway.
"Try not to look like a sad puppy when we walk in there though, yeah?"
"Oh, piss off, Noah." I laugh.
We share brief eye contact. He bites on his finger; it is definitely not lost on me that it's one of the fingers that was inside me not too long ago.
I lick my lips and try to push that thought to the back of my mind.
"Come on," he urges, getting out of the car. I should not revel in the dejection in his voice (but it wouldn't hurt anybody...)
I follow him to the front door and then through it, thinking about how mature I've become in the last few years. I wouldn't have cared about Matt when we were in school - I'd do whatever I wanted, but of course his friends were all math nerds who I had no interest in.
Now I'm giving up possibly the best sex of my life with a man so perfect I'd never be able to find anyone close within this goddamn country, and it's all for my relationship with a brother who ignored me growing up.
I guess self-growth is the only positive thing in this.
"For the record," he speaks quietly, taking off his shoes in the hallway. "I'm sad about it too."
It's like he tries to kill me.
He disappears into the living room before I can tell him as such. I hear he and Matt fucking around immediately, shouting at each other playfully like they've been apart a lifetime instead of just an hour.
I take off my own shoes and plaster a smile across my face.
"Finally!" Matt shrieks. "How was the driving lesson?"
"I'm a terrible driver."
"I can't say I didn't tell you so," he sings, looking between the two of us with a smug smile on his face.
Noah tells him about my driving in detail, making fun of each time I've stalled or panicked or looked at the gearstick instead of the road. He, of course, leaves out the part where I drove on top of him to 'practice' steering the wheel, and, subsequently, the part where I let him in my pants.
Their friendship is solid. It's obvious to see.
I think my coming-between-it would be quite horrible really. Matt seems to enjoy Noah's company to no end, and is animatedly excited around him, even when they're disagreeing about girls or how much Noah will drive him around.
Perhaps it's time to let Chelsea in on my dilemma. She'll make me see sense one way or the other.
Noah and Matt discuss greasy food for a while, and then they talk about the gym for a while longer.
I zone out of their conversation and browse through the TV guide, eventually settling on a show that I can overthink during.
Noah must go upstairs or out somewhere, because when Matt sits down next to me we're alone. He watches the show for a few minutes before huffing and turning to me. I raise both eyebrows and turn to him too.
"Is this about Sara?"
"No," he squeals. I'd call it defensive.
It's about something though, because he rolls his shoulders back. He used to do that quite a bit with mum when he wanted something, which tells me all I need to know about what's coming. It's as if he physically needs his body to be ready before he puts himself in an uncomfortable situation.
He huffs again.
"What's up Matt?"
"You like Noah, right?"
I swallow.
With us sat opposite each other like this I have to actively control my facial muscles to give nothing away. My mind spins into overdrive, whirring like an old electronic full of dust.
I squeeze my fingers together at my sides.
"Um, yeah. He's a nice guy."
He nods. A little too much.
"He's a good-looking guy, too."
"O-kay?"
More nodding.
"The two of you get along, which I'm all for. I love that," he explains. I blink at him, having no possible clue where he's going with this. Unless this is my official stop-gawking-at-Noah chat. "And I love that you're here, obviously."
"Right."
"Right," he echoes. "Good. It's going well."
"What is?"
"This conversation," he replies just as quickly. "Next: you know how I'm friends with Skye and we sleep together and blah, blah, blah?"
"Where are you going with this?"
He frowns at me, crease lines appearing in his forehead. I hold up my hands and gesture for him to continue whatever the hell this lecture is.
"That works for Skye and I. Well... kind of. Not really."
It doesn't. Not at all. Skye is half in love with him and Matt sleeps with half of the female population. It'll all fall apart at some point.
"Anyway. Girls like Noah." Here we go. The guilt builds up in my chest. "He's good-looking and he's nice and he works hard."
I open my mouth to try and ease his nerves but he shakes his head.
"I know you're not a child or anything, and I don't want to tell you what to do, but." He bares his teeth, showing his utter discomfort at having this conversation. "You guys are good friends now. You're hanging out. I wouldn't..."
I suck my lip into my mouth and try not to wear my emotions on my sleeve.
My nails are leaving crescent dents in the palms of my hands. My chest is so tight I feel like my heart might burst out of my shirt and spill all my secrets onto the carpeted floor.
"I guess I'm just trying to say-"
I can't hear him say it. I don't want the words in the room with us, lingering.
So I cut him off.
"I know what you're trying to say."
He releases a long sigh, his shoulders dropping from their upright position. It's as if a weight lifts off of him and lets him sag into the comfort of the sofa cushions.
"It won't be a problem," I lie.
It's already a problem.
Don't fancy my best friend. I already do.
Don't come onto my best friend. I already have.
Don't do anything with my best friend. It's already happened.
Don't do anything that'll compromise my friendship. I've been trying.
Matt's smile sinks to the bottom of my stomach. It slices through me like knives.
"Good," he mutters.
He and Noah leave to go and do whatever it is they planned earlier. I continue having what I will now label my quarter-life crisis in front of TV shows that suck and try not to smell Noah's aftershave on the t-shirt I'm wearing.
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