Chapter Thirty Eight
Waking up to Noah's ringtone gives me deja vu.
Maybe it would be better if it were the fire alarm or some sort of purge warning.
I'm sure a global crisis would fix our living situation in no time - Matt and I would have to work together to overcome whatever had changed the world and he'd see that Noah and I being an item isn't entirely a terrible thing.
It would hopefully also make him forget that Noah bent me over the couch.
I groan and flip into the pillow.
Did I seriously say the phrase 'finger myself' in front of my brother last night?
The ringing suddenly stops.
"Hello?" Noah's voice is lethally gruff, charred with sleep.
The room flashes with light and is encased in darkness again.
"It's not even five in the morning. Why would I be working?
" I don't hear the other person respond but Noah's replies continue to be curt and borderline rude.
"Where? Do you need me to pick it up then?
No. Have it towed. Because-" he huffs. "I said so. "
I turn to him in hopes that I get a sense of the other side of the conversation but I can barely see his outline in the dim room. He encases my hand with his own when I put it on his chest.
"Did it go all the way through? What do you mean, how would I know? Either there's an exit hole or there isn't. Whatever, I'll work it out. No, I'll weld it shut and sand it - just drop it off after hours, alright? Yeah. Bye."
I shuffle closer to him, pulling the blanket over his shoulders and then my own.
"Who was that?"
"One of Damien's lackeys," he responds quietly, voice unbelievably softer, in stark contract with his attitude on the phone. "They bring their cars to me."
"To the garage?"
"No, to me personally," he sighs. "I fix them up at the garage. Damien won't let anyone else touch them."
"That's..." odd. "Flattering?"
"Something like that, love," he laughs softly. "It was part of our separation agreement."
"You guys were married?" I tease. "Is Damien the ex girlfriend?"
My hand, travelling up his neck, is playfully pushed away. We fumble around for a few seconds before I climb on top of him, still clothed in shorts and a tank top. We decided clothes were probably best whilst Matt knows we're both in here together, safer for him and for us.
"Are you bisexual?"
"You're unbelievable," he says.
"In a good way?"
I'm flipped onto my back, Noah's body covering my own instantly. His bed croaks under the sudden movement but the sound is swallowed by our lips meeting.
"In the best way."
His hair is soft when I thread my hands through it, curling around my fingers as if to keep them in place.
"So what was your separation agreement?"
He murmurs, "shouldn't this wait until morning? It's still dark outside."
"Ooh, avoiding the topic can't be good," I smile. I feel the upturn of his lips against my mouth. "I can feel your hard on against my leg, by the way. You're not subtle."
"Yeah?" He rasps. "You wanna feel it somewhere else?"
Holding himself up with his arms, he pulls his body up mine. My legs wrap around his waist automatically, tilting upwards when he presses himself between my legs.
"I want you to tell me why you're fixing a car with a bullet hole in it."
His thumb is at the seam of my shorts, gently travelling back and fore, pulling them away from my legs and snapping them back in place. Teasing.
"Okay," he breathes, looking down at my lack of underwear. "Because somebody shot a bullet through a car door. Damien's car door, to be exact."
"Be more exact," I command, pushing my ass further down the bed. He uses the movement to his advantage, scrunching my shorts to one side so that I'm exposed completely. "We can't fuck, Noah."
"Who says I'm gonna fuck you?" He grins. Killer, as always. "What if I was going to do it really slowly? Just slow enough that neither of us can get off on it." His thumb strokes over my clit, making me gasp out loud. "It doesn't even count then."
"It counts if he hears us."
"Be quiet then."
"I can't exactly - Jesus, fuck-" Two fingers curl inside me. Noah's hand is heavy over my mouth instantly, pressing my head back into the pillow so that I sink into it, the sides curling up to cover my cheeks.
Now that my eyes are adjusting I can see the grin etched onto his face. Can see the outline of his cock tenting his boxers where he hovers over me.
I realise the only hand holding his body up is the one pressed over my mouth, pressed down so hard that I'm sure it'll leave an outline when he does remove it.
My chest rises and falls with each breath out of my nose.
He stares at my chest as it does, my nipples hard against the cotton fabric of my pajama top.
"You can," he murmurs. "Look, you're doing it right now."
I'm soaking wet. Dripping down my own thighs. His voice is pure gold, as usual, teasing and raspy and caressing every sensitive spot both in and outside of my body. Somehow, he always knows just what to say to turn me into jelly.
Those fingers stroke up gently, bent as if he knows exactly how I like it. My watering eyes widen.
"Yeah," he coos. "So good at being quiet for me."
Not that I have much of a choice. My mouth can't move a muscle under the weight of his hand.
We've managed three days without fucking each others brains out, but apparently that's all we have in us. The clothes, in the end, did absolutely nothing.
My brain is screaming fuck him, like there's some tiny version of me that knows how much I need this. Need him inside me. Need to forget my own name after the disaster that has been these past few days.
"You look so pretty in my bed, did I ever tell you that?
" He asks, eyes still firmly on my rising chest. I buck up into his hand and his knee presses down onto my thigh.
My eyes flick down between us, lingering on the outline of his cock, straining against the fabric of his underwear, the smallest wet patch beginning to form where the head of his cock lies.
I must look desperate when I meet his eyes again. "Damien doesn't like people leaving."
What?
"You're confused, baby?" He whispers, still flicking his fingers perfectly nestled inside my pussy. "I thought you wanted to know about me and Damien?"
I attempt to nod under his weight, delirious with desire.
"So I'm telling you," he smirks. "He doesn't like people leaving his - they call it a company. Whatever the fuck it is. So people don't, ever. Sometimes they manage to leave and then conveniently fall off the face of the planet."
How he's being so coherent while (quite literally) finger fucking me I'll never know. But I know that he's not thinking about his own words, he's staring down at my pussy, watching it swallow his fingers, watching them retreat covered in my juices. Hypnotized.
I wriggle until I feel his cock presses against my thigh, the heat of it burning into my skin.
My eyes roll back when his thumb brushes my clit again.
"He traps you there. Puts you in one of his houses, pays your bills.
Never took a penny out of my account but had my bank details - just in case.
Knew what I spent and when I spent it. Knew where I'd be all the fucking time.
I couldn't breathe without knowing Damien Mierro heard about it.
" Then, like a flipped switch. "You gonna be quiet while I pull my cock out, baby? "
I nod, dazed.
Only when his hand pulls away my mouth drops open and a whine leaves my lips before I understand what's happening. His fingers stop moving inside me.
Noah sucks his bottom lip into his mouth like it'll stop the smirk that spreads across them.
I begin to whisper, "I can't-"
"Yes," he cuts me off. "You can."
My eyes widen as he stands up gently next to the bed and then grabs both of my ankles, pulling me towards the edge. Placing a hand gently around the back of my neck, he lifts me into a sitting position and then opens my mouth with his thumb.
I reach out to finish pulling off his boxers.
The outline of him stood leaning over me is all hard edges, looming and intimidating.
The head of his cock nudges the corner of my mouth and I can't stop my body shivering, another rush of desire flooding me.
I half rut up towards him as if it'll accidentally make him start fucking me.
My head is pushed slightly to the left. I look up to his shadow with big, eager eyes, mouth still open wide.
"See," he whispers, pushing past my lips. "We can make you quiet."
My eyes water as soon as he hits the back of my throat.
"So- the agreement," Noah isn't as composed this time.
Between each word he breathes heavily and stutters whenever I suck in my cheeks or force him deeper.
I push my nails into his hip and wrap my other arm around his strong thigh, forcing him to thrust towards me, knowing I'll get more a stutter.
I want him breathless. I want him senseless.
"He wouldn't let me leave," he breathes. "Not when he put so much effort into me. Just like that, angel."
I suck on the head, eyes still firmly on his face. Still cast in deep shadow, his jaw looks the sharpest it's ever been, cut so fine I could probably lift a finger to it and slice it open. His eyes are twisted shut, teeth gritted whenever he's not talking.
A work of art.
"He knew I wanted to leave though. I fucking hated him at the end, wouldn't do anything right.
The relationship just broke down - I didn't trust him and he didn't trust me either.
" He pulls my hair and I moan around him, the sound echoing.
Instantly he stops moving, grabbing both of my cheeks with one hand and squeezing them together.
His cock slips out of my mouth. "What'd I say, Madelaine? "
"You're so fucking hot," I slur through the round shape my mouth is holding, his fingers pressing tight under my cheek bones.
Oops. Wasn't supposed to say that one out loud.
The grip loosens and then tightens again, as if his surprise took a hold of his hand for a second.
"That's not even close to what I said," he grins.
"Fuck me," I lock my legs around his hips and pull. As always, he doesn't budge. I don't think a speeding car could move him. "Please, Noah." I'm not above begging, not at all. He fills every one of my senses and I want his cock filling me too.
My brother overhearing couldn't deter me now. What would he even do? Wait to shout at us tomorrow afternoon and then smash a few more nonexistent plates? I don't think there's anything left downstairs to break.
"Please," I repeat.
"If you can't even be quiet sucking me off-"
"I can," I respond quickly.
"I dunno," he says, pulling that same thumb over my lips. "I like seeing you desperate like this."
Something takes over my body. (I use that excuse a lot lately.
Maybe I'm just becoming a different person, one that won't stand down or take anyone's bullshit or let Noah tease me until I actually get on my knees and pray for him to touch me.) Before I know what I'm doing I lean forward and take his cock in my mouth again, bobbing my head as quickly as I possibly can, pulling his body into my face.
He hisses before going silent, breathing so heavily that I feel it on the top of my head.
I let him hit the back of my throat, make my eyes water, keep my cheeks sucked in - then disappear completely, turning over before Noah can even take a confused step.
I pull my shorts to the side and push my ass back into him, feeling the slickness from my mouth on him rub against my heat. He groans.
"Shhh," I tease.
His cock is in me in one swift movement, so hard and so quickly that I have to bite down on the bedding below me in hopes that it'll muffle my moan. My thoughts go into overdrive: big, full, hot, fucking move please.I press myself back into him instead, over and over and over.
"Fuck," he grunts, balls slapping loudly against me. I push back again, hands fisted into the sheets. "Fuck, Maddie - I need-" Again. "Fuck."
"Who's loud now?"
He's groans. "I'm so fucking close."
"You swear a lot when you're close," I observe through jagged breaths.
Before he can respond I push back into him, ignoring the sharp grasp on my hips and the loud slap every time I press backwards, just chasing chasing chasing that release.
Uncaring of anything, unaware of the world.
Noah whines and I tighten around him, so much so that it spurs him into holding me to the bed, fucking into me like a toy rather than a human being. Unrestrained. Desperate. Animalistic.
He pulls my arms back and uses them as a tool to fuck me harder, until I'm completely pliant, drooling onto the bedding below me. Seeing stars. Galaxies.
He holds my head to the bed as I come. I'm not sure if it's because I can't stop moaning his name or because he can't hold himself up while he's this close as well, but I don't care as my vision ceases and my entire conscience flashes white, blinding as I ride out the orgasm.
His come is dribbling down my leg when I recover, each rise of my chest almost painful as I try and catch my breath.
"Maybe you can't be quiet then," he breathes.
I just huff, sinking into the pillows behind my head.
Noah kisses up my stomach and then around my neck, all over the left side of my face, while I try to hold back a grin the entire time.
He remakes the bed when I get up to pee, holding the covers out when I quietly open his bedroom door on my return.
I slide into them and then into his side.
His arm wraps around me.
Minutes pass comfortably between us. When I feel like I've stopped seeing stars, I finally let myself think about Noah's words.
"Then what?" I ask.
Noah seems to immediately register that I'm referring to Damien.
"He couldn't trust me to get any of the jobs done right," he begins again in a small voice, still holding me just as close.
"So he asked less and less of me, or gave me the shitty jobs nobody else wanted.
At times I thought I'd kill him. I was ready to do it, anyway.
I'd seen enough of what he did to know the world would be better off - and then I met Matt. "
Of course. Matt did a lot of him - Matt, in his own words, dragged him out of the gutter.
"Matt pulled me further away. I got an actual job and moved into this house within the space of a few days, scared out of my mind.
I still don't think Matt understands what could've happened to us had Damien decided to do something about it - which he almost did.
But I convinced him I'd be useful with the cars.
" He takes a breath. "I wouldn't be one of his boys, so I could have my own life, but he still has some sort of claim on me. I still have a purpose in his company."
"So you fix his bullet holes and don't ask any questions?"
"Exactly."
"Doesn't that piss you off?" I ask. "You'll be working for him for the rest of your life."
Even in the darkness I see his shrug. "That's how it works with Damien."
"What if you moved away?"
"I don't know," he says. "I guess he'd either give up or send someone to find me. Either way he knows where my parents live and he knows I live here now - I'd have to move everyone at once."
I stare up at the ceiling, trying to imagine a life in which a gangster owned me, my life, my family.
"It's not a bad thing, love," Noah breaks the silence gently, stroking my arm. "It's not like I fix his cars for free - and it's my job anyway. He's like any other client now. Even if he does fuck up his own cars every chance he gets."
That forces a laugh out of me, remembering the mess around Damien's car when I'd first visited the garage. "I guess."
I just don't like the thought of anyone having a hold over Noah. (Anyone who isn't me.) Even if Damien let him go three years ago, he still obviously thinks Noah works for him; someone calling him at four in the morning to discuss a bullet hole shows that much.
Maybe it shouldn't bother me if it doesn't bother him though.
It's not like Damien Mierro is going to have any say in our lives - in fact, I doubt I'll ever see him again unless we make another appearance at Fiction.
I'd avoid him if I did. Every detail I hear about him only makes me want to stay further away.
In a few days I may not even live close enough to Fiction to visit there.
My room is ready. Fuck, I can't believe it's ready.
For a second I'm not sure how to even broach the topic with Noah.
I don't know if he'll be upset or relieved - I'm not entirely certain he's even still awake.
His breathing is soft and even, his limbs loosely thrown around me.
My hand threads through his hair and begins massaging, only when his head pushes back into the movement do I know he's not yet asleep.
"I really upset Matt tonight," I begin. "I said some very, very stupid things - stupider than anything he's said, actually - and I don't think he's going to get over them very quickly."
"My God, Madelaine. What did you say to him?"
Saying them the first time felt like a mistake. Saying them a second is just humiliating.
"Before I tell you, just remember how frustrating he can be and that he's been winding the two of us up for like three days with his ignorance..."
Noah doesn't interrupt as I thought he would, he patiently waits for me to continue.
To say the things. I really wish he'd interrupt.
I also wish I could gauge his reaction but the curtains are drawn, and even if they weren't the night sky is still charcoal black, enveloping every corner in shadow.
I can just about make out the highlights of his face, but only when I concentrate hard enough.
"He said he didn't want to hear any stereotypical excuses," I explain with caution. "And since those are pretty much all we have - because it's not like this happened purposefully to hurt him or anything - he said we have to come up with some interesting before he would listen."
"Right," he grunts, the word so obviously pushed through his teeth.
If that pissed him off...
"So I said if he wanted interesting, then maybe he'd like to know - specifics." Please say something. Interrupt me. Smite me - anything so that I don't have to admit it. "Sexually."
"Sex-" The confusion dies like a light going out. "Oh my God."
I cringe, "I know."
"How specific were you?"
Watched me finger myself right here.
Bent me over this couch while you were upstairs.
Further cringing. Wishing the ground would open and swallow me up whole, never to be seen again.
"Quite," I quip. Then, dissolving into excuses, "but he provoked me and he's done nothing but make us feel bad when we're both adults who can make adult choices-"
To my surprise, Noah gargles - it almost sounds like a laugh.
"So you thought you'd tell him what I'm like in bed?!" He does laugh then. "Fuck, Maddie. Is there anything else he's going to throw at us tomorrow, or did you manage to stop yourself after the sex stuff?"
Thump, thump, thump.
"My house is ready."
Dead silence. A pin could drop.
Feeling the need to fill that silence, I elaborate: "Matt wants one of us to move out."
"Since when?" He asks, voice odd in a way I haven't heard before.
"A few days," I whisper. "But he doesn't mean that. He means I should move out, not you. I told him that my house is ready tonight - he didn't say much, though he did ask if that meant I was going to break it off with you."
He sits up in the bed, facing me.
"Are you?"
"No, Noah." My face scrunches. "Why would I do that?"
"I-" Noah, stuttering? Fuck, that doesn't happen often. "This is a lot of information to process at five in the morning."
I sit up beside him, crawling around his frame until I can slide into his lap. He pulls me forward, wrapping strong arms around my torso.
"He's going to have to get over it," I murmur.
"Or what?"
"There is no or what. Matt can suck it up and he will - but if my moving out makes that easier for him then so be it. It's not like he invited me to stay here forever anyway - he didn't even invite me, Paul and my mum made him."
He hums.
"What?"
"I just never thought about you moving out so soon."
"I've been here a few months," I laugh. "My estate agent is just inept."
"Yeah, just..."
"Just what?"
He kisses behind my ear.
"I just don't want you to move out," he says against my skin.
I find myself smiling into his hair.
"We just started dating."
"And we've been living together just fine so far," he coos, as if trying to persuade me with a seductive lilt in his voice. I can't say it doesn't work. "Haven't we?"
"I wouldhave to go back to taking the bus to work," I tease, putting my finger to my chin as if deep in thought. Noah snorts, still kissing my ear intermittently. "Of course we've been just fine, but this is Matt's house. He wouldn't want me here even if you and I weren't dating."
"I don't think that's true at all," he says. "Your brother may be an ass, but he explicitly said how nice it was to have you around more."
"Before this."
He collapses back to the bed, pulling me with him.
A huff of air is forced out of my chest as I tumble down with him and then try to steady myself on his body. I reach for the discarded cover and pull it over us.
"It's late," Noah whispers, still holding me just as tightly, still speaking against my skin. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, yeah?"
"While you help me pack?"
All I get in response is an annoyed grunt and a shove to the other side of the bed. He lasts three seconds before pulling me back into his chest. I fall asleep to the steady beat of his heart.
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