Chapter Twenty-One
The Scent and Sound of Rain
Noah wants me to spend the night with him.
My pulse quickens as all kinds of sexy images flood my mind—of Noah’s mouth burning against mine, of his inked arms wrapped around my body, of him pinning me to the mattress with that athletic body and then kissing me until I can’t take another bre—
“Violet, I want you to stay in any way you feel comfortable with,” Noah says firmly, his hands rubbing up and down my back in a reassuring manner. “I just want as much time with you as I can get before I report back for training.”
I stare up at him, seeing the sincerity shining in his beautiful brown eyes. Noah isn’t pushing anything onto me with this invitation. If we did nothing but kiss and talk, he would go back to Surrey content with how we spent our time together.
My breath catches in my throat. I know, without a doubt, we could do nothing sexual, and it wouldn’t matter in my developing relationship with this man. Noah would wait, I know that with every cell in my body.
And knowing that makes me want to move forward.
I’m starting to fall for this man. I’ve had sex in the past, of course, with men I’ve been attracted to. Men I’ve had fun with and guys I’ve dated.
But I can’t say love was involved with any of them.
Not that love would be involved with Noah—it’s far too early for that—but I already know sex with him would be different.
And I want to explore that.
“I think sexual chemistry is important in any relationship,” I say softly, one of my hands travelling up to the nape of Noah’s neck. I glide my fingertips up and down it, stroking him softly, and smile as I feel goosebumps prickle his skin.
The sincerity shining in his eyes now shows an undercurrent of desire.
“It is,” he says, his voice low. One of his hands moves up my back, and his fingertips trail suggestively over the back of my bra.
“I think,” I say, dropping my voice, “I would like to stay in your bed tonight, Saucy Shorts. And do all kinds of naughty things. Like eat fudge and stretchy snakes in bed.”
He bursts out laughing, and I laugh, too. Noah begins to flush pink with embarrassment, and I swear I want to kiss him just because he looks so cute.
“I love how you make me laugh, Butterfly.”
“It’s my mission to make you laugh,” I promise him. “Because you deserve to have lots and lots of laughter in your life.”
Something shifts in his eyes, and I can’t quite read what it is.
He clears his throat. “Thank you. That means the world to me.”
As soon as I see that flicker of sadness in his eyes, I know he’s thinking of his past. Of the family fractured by tragedy, where laughter had to be something that wasn’t experienced often.
But I see a new man emerging since I’ve met him. Noah has let down his guard with me. I’m seeing a man who is comfortable enough to show me his sense of humour, and one who is laughing a lot in my presence.
I’m going to give you that lightness that you have been missing,I think fiercely.
And I decide now is the time to have some more fun with him.
“Come upstairs with me to my room,” I say, grinning up at him. “I’ll pack a bag for the next few days. Perhaps you could even pick out my knickers for me.”
Noah’s eyes immediately shift from sad to amused. “Ooh, I’ve totally levelled up from picking out pick and mix,” he teases.
I laugh loudly at that. “See how things are progressing? One day you’re picking out fizzy cola bottles and peach rings, the next you’re deciding between lace and silk thongs.”
“Thongs?”
I step back from him but reach for his hand, lacing my fingers through his. I flash him a flirty smile. “Thongs. Among other things. So would you care to engage in a different version of pick and mix with my knickers, Noah?”
“Christ.”
I throw my head back and laugh at the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of desire, embarrassment, amusement, and torture.
God, he’s adorable. Sexy. Fun.
And I know, without a doubt, I have fallen for Noah a little bit more right here on the grounds of Wintersmith Hall.
* * *
By late afternoon, we’re carrying shopping bags back into Noah’s cottage. The blue skies have disappeared, replaced by an overcast grey sky. The scent of coming rain fills the air, mingling with the smell of the sea, and it won’t be long before it begins to fall.
It will be the perfect night to stay tucked inside this cottage, eating pasta and sipping wine, and watching the rain fall into the sea. Perhaps we can open the back door so we can let that intoxicating air come into the cottage and listen to the sound of it, too.
And then we can make love right here in the living room.
Now I’m the one blushing as I follow Noah down the stairs to the kitchen. He didn’t take me up on my offer of a round of knickers pick and mix—he said he wants to be surprised the first time he undresses me. As I stare at his back, seeing how the T-shirt skims his muscles, and knowing I’ll be able to feel that body entwined with mine in a matter of hours?
I grow hot as I visualise sex with Noah in my head.
Then I smile to myself. I hope he likes me in my knickers.
And I hope he likes me out of my knickers even more.
Mila races over to her dog dish, and Noah puts his shopping bags on the worktop. Then he turns around and takes mine out of my hands.
“Thank you,” I say. I move to the worktop and begin to unload them as Noah retrieves Mila’s water bowl.
“You ought to sleep well tonight,” he says to her as he rinses out her bowl and fills it with fresh water. “You’ve had a full day running with new friends.”
I grin. Mila had a very active day playing on the grounds with my dogs today.
“Who watches her when you travel for football?” I ask as I pull out a pack of spaghetti and put it aside.
“She stays with a dog sitter,” Noah says, setting her bowl down on the floor. Mila immediately goes over to it and begins to lap up water, and he comes back over to the worktop and begins unloading bags. “I take her to Samantha’s house. She watches another teammate’s dog, too. But nobody stays in my house when I travel. For safety reasons.”
I pause my unloading and stare at him. “What do you mean?”
Noah sets down a loaf of Italian bread and looks very seriously at me. “You really don’t follow football, do you?”
I shake my head.
He pauses for a moment. “I don’t want this to scare you.”
“I think you’ve just scared me with that sentence.”
“I want you to know I’ve recently moved to an incredibly safe community in Surrey. I also have an extensive security system on my grounds. And a panic room.”
“A panic room?” I cry, aghast. “What for?”
“Crime rings often target footballers’ homes when they are travelling or playing a fixture on the road,” Noah explains simply. “They go for jewellery. Electronics. Designer items. A guy on our team was hit last season whilst his wife was home. They tied her up.”
“What?” I’m horrified.
“That’s why I put in a panic room.”
“But … this is madness! A panic room?”
“Lots of players are putting them in or moving to homes with them. Out of an abundance of caution.”
“Noah, what if they came when you were home?” I ask, feeling sick at the image that comes to mind.
He steps closer and sinks his hands into my hair. “Violet. That’s not likely to happen. But I’m confident enough alarms would be triggered that I would have time to get to the safe room and alert the police. I hate even talking about this tonight, but you have to know this is part of my life. Not just the public intrusion, but this, too.”
I shiver, and Noah winces as he no doubt feels it run through me.
“You have my word that I will do everything in my power to make sure you and every beautiful freckle on your face and shoulders are well-protected in my home. I promise you that.”
He dips his head and presses a reassuring kiss on my lips.
When Noah lifts his head, I smile up at him. “You’re so good at that,” I say simply.
“What?” he asks, a confused crease forming on the bridge of his nose.
I gently brush my index finger over that adorable crease. “You reassure me. You make me believe everything will be okay or sort itself out. I bet you do that on the pitch, too.”
His hand tangles in my hair, and now my shivers turn from those of worry to pleasure.
“I try. They say I’m the calm force in the dressing room.”
“I can see that.”
“But I’m not always calm, Butterfly. Remember that for later tonight.”
Ooh!
Noah releases me, and we go back to unloading our purchases for the rest of the weekend. Because neither one of us can cook, we do plan to have quite a few meals out, but we at least have the essentials here. There’s bread for sandwiches, cereal, milk, coffee. Tonight, we’re going to have spaghetti, so of course that meant buying pre-made tomato sauce.
“I should learn to cook,” I muse out loud.
“That makes two of us,” Noah says, rummaging in the cupboard. I can hear him moving pots and pans, and finally he places two pots down on the worktop. “Right now, I have a chef who makes all my meals based on my nutrition plan for football. Camden ended up hiring her, too. She’s a genius. Because even though we have to eat very specifically for performance, Daisy manages to make them all taste good.”
Noah turns on the tap and begins to fill a tall pot with water. Then he turns it off and puts it on the hob, turning on the burner underneath it. I grab the other pan and put it on the hob next to the water, turning on the heat. We chat easily as we cook, with me browning the mince, and Noah making a butter-garlic spread for the bread. Before long, he’s uncorking a bottle of red and pouring both of us glasses, and then we fill our plates and sit down at the table to eat.
“Noah?” I ask after I swallow a bite of pasta. “Can I confess something with the hope it doesn’t scare the shit out of you?”
His face lights up in amusement. “With an intro like that, you have to.”
I smile at him. “Is it weird I’m already trying to work out how I’m going to see you once you go back to Surrey and I’m still here in Dorset?”
“No, it doesn’t scare me. Because I’ve been thinking about it, too. I report back for training, then I depart for Australia on the fourteenth of July. But if we could meet up even for a few hours at a time, I’d do it, Violet. And just so you know, I don’t expect you to rearrange your whole work schedule at Wintersmith Hall to do it. I respect what you do, and I don’t want you to run around making all the sacrifices to spend time with me.”
I put down my fork, my heart roaring in my ears.
Noah doesn’t dismiss my job at the gift shop or helping Mum pick out things as something that should be blown off or is less important than his football career, which most people would easily do.
Somehow, this man sees value in all the things I do, even if others deem them as insignificant.
You do know how to make me fall for you, don’t you?, I think, staring at him from across the table.
Because right now I just fell a little bit in love with him.
“Before you go back on Sunday, we’ll go over our diaries and make some plans,” I say, knowing I would do anything I had to do to get some precious hours with him.
“Cheers to that,” Noah says, lifting his wineglass.
I smile at him and raise my wineglass to his. “Cheers.”
We finish our meal, and as we are washing up, the rain which had been threatening to break since we returned home finally does. It falls gently from the sky, sounding loud on the copper roof.
“Do you mind if I open the door?” I ask. “I love the scent and sound of rain.”
“Go ahead.”
I move towards the door that leads to the terrace and slide it open. I’m immediately embraced by the cooler air and the sound of the rain bouncing off the roof that covers part of the terrace.
“I love this,” I say softly, closing my eyes and letting the air caress my skin.
Suddenly I feel Noah’s presence behind me. His arm snakes around me, and it’s erotic and intoxicating.
“Would you like to sit outside in the rain?” he whispers into my shoulder before kissing it.
“We’ll get soaked,” I manage to murmur back.
His lips travel up the side of my neck, and he pauses at my ear. “Not if we sit under the sheltered part.”
I shiver against him, and Noah leaves me. I turn and look over my shoulder, and he’s retrieving the blanket that is neatly folded across the back of the sofa. Then he takes my hand and leads me outside to the terrace, sitting down on a chair under the protection of the roof. Noah pulls me down to him, positioning me so I’m sitting on his lap, my legs swung over to the side. He drapes the blanket over us, making sure I’m covered, and then he kisses me.
Noah’s lips part mine, and his tongue begins to explore my mouth. My tongue dances with his, tasting the red wine on his lips as he deepens the kiss. I move my hands from underneath the blanket, sinking them into his hair, holding on to him as my heart begins to race inside my chest.
The rain continues to fall, picking up a bit, and the cool air blows across us, whipping my hair around with it. Noah takes one hand to brush it back, but then he slides his hand underneath it and cradles my head in his hand. He breaks the kiss and moves my head so he can look into my eyes.
Then I feel it.
His other hand has bunched up my skirt and pushed it aside. I gasp as I feel his hand slowly travel up my bare thigh, his fingertips trailing tantalisingly across my skin. They move closer, closer, closer, and then his index finger barely touches the edge of my knickers, lightly skimming over the elastic edge and causing me to arch in his arms.
“Let me touch you, Butterfly,” he says, his voice low.
“Here?” I gasp, my fingers digging into his silky locks as his index finger continues to travel up and down that border of elastic. The rain picks up, and I can feel the wind carry some of the droplets towards us, and then land on my skin.
“Here,” he commands. “I will make you feel so good. You’re going to fly. But only if you say yes. I need to touch you as much as you need to be touched.”
Everything in me begins to tighten. My muscles clench with need, and as Noah’s finger reaches the thin scrap of elastic around my hip bone, he hooks it over his finger and stops, drawing my mouth closer to his so his heated breath brushes over my lips.
“Let me touch you, Butterfly,” Noah begs in a whisper. “Please let me touch you.”