Chapter Twenty-Three
English Breakfast
I wake up the next morning, my hand instinctively reaching for Noah before I even open my eyes. I move to roll into his warm body, wanting to feel his skin against mine, but I only feel sheets instead. My eyes flicker open, adjusting to the light in the room, and with disappointment, I see Noah has gone.
My memory instantly flashes back to last night. We had incredible sex in this bed—the slow and sensual kind—until we both were worked up in a frenzy and couldn’t hold back a second longer.
It was the best sex I’ve ever had.
And it was the first time I had feelings involved when it came to sex.
But it wasn’t just the sex and feelings that were amazing. It was everything afterward, too.
Noah and I remained in bed, entangled in each other, talking for a long time. He would stroke my hair. Run his hand over my arm and tell me how much he loved my freckles there. Drop kisses on my lips, my nose, my forehead. We laughed. Teased each other. Linked our hands together as we talked.
I have never felt so happy and content with a man in my entire life.
Then he got up and brought back the sweets we got from the pick and mix at the cinema, and we laughed and talked for hours more. I was able to be silly—like I challenged him to let me throw jelly beans at him and see if he could catch them in his mouth, which he proved to be quite stellar at—and then we took selfies with each of us trying to wear milk teeth.
A happy, contented sigh escapes my lips. I’ve never had an evening like this in my entire life.
I’m so full of joy I could burst.
As I roll over to reach for my phone on my bedside table, I spot Noah in the doorway, holding a mug in his hand. My pulse leaps with excitement, but I keep that feeling to myself.
“You left me,” I say dramatically, teasing him.
Noah pauses and leans against the doorway, his eyes flicking over me whilst I lie in bed.
Okay, is there anything sexier than a shirtless man with tattoo sleeves, wearing grey joggers that dip down low across his hips, leaning against the doorway and staring at you as if he is ready to jump you any second?
No. No, there’s not.
“Did you miss me, Butterfly?” he asks, his voice low.
“I rolled over so I could snuggle into you, and all I got were cold sheets,” I say, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Incredibly disappointing.”
“But what if I left to make you a cup of tea?”
I blink. “What?”
Noah flashes me a brilliant smile, and happiness ripples through me.
“I made you a cup of tea,” he says, walking towards my side of the bed. “English breakfast.”
“You remembered I ordered that yesterday?”
He nods and sinks down onto the mattress next to me, lifting his hand and gently stroking my hair. “I did. I know you also must have toast, but I didn’t want to make that until I was sure you were up and ready to eat.”
Swoon. Swoon. Swoon.
It’s as if Noah is reading some kind of playbook to make me fall in love with him, pulling out play after play of moves designed to win my heart.
It’s so working.
“That is lovely, thank you,” I say, smiling at him. I rise, tucking the sheet around me like they always do on the telly, but of course it slides right down, revealing my boobs to Noah.
He grins at me, and I feel myself blush.
“Not that I mind watching you drink tea naked, but would you at least like a T-shirt since that sheet isn’t quite working out?”
A wicked idea comes to me instead. “I’ll tell you what I’d like, Saucy Shorts. I want to wear one of your T-shirts. And I’d like you to go over to my luggage over there, pull out my pink mesh lingerie bag, and play pick and mix with my knickers. I’ll wear whatever you pick out today.”
He smiles an embarrassed smile and rakes his hand through his hair.
Ooh, he’s so sweet and sexy, I just want to eat him up!
“You aren’t like anyone else, Violet.”
“Thank God for that!” I say cheerfully.
Noah rises and walks over to the dresser, where he has already unpacked all his clothing. He retrieves a shirt and comes back over to the bed, handing it to me.
“One of my Stonebridge United ones,” he says. “Now a game I never thought I’d play—I’ll go do a pick and mix with your knickers.”
I burst out laughing and tug the T-shirt over my head. Ooh. It’s very soft and has a faint scent of lavender on it.
“Do you use fabric softener?” I ask, intrigued.
“My housekeeper does. I’ll be sure to tell her to use the apple blossom one the next time I see her,” he jokes.
“I look forward to smelling your fresh new scent when I visit you in Surrey,” I tease.
He chuckles at that. Then he bends down and unzips my suitcase, but stops and looks at me before going any further. “And you are sure you are okay with me going through your things, Vi?”
More. Things. To. Love. About. Him.
“Yes. I have no secrets from you. You can see not only my knickers and bras, but my choice of toothpaste as well.”
He smiles and immediately lifts the bucket hat I wore to the beach when he spent the weekend here. “I love this hat on you. You were so cute in it.”
I get a warm feeling inside knowing he thought that.
“Do you want me to put your T-shirts and jeans in a drawer for you?”
“You’re lovely to offer, but you don’t have to serve as my housekeeper this weekend. You’re on holiday, remember?’
Noah ignores me and slides open a drawer, gently placing my folded T-shirts and jeans inside of it. “This is doing something for someone I care about. It’s not going to ruin my holiday.”
He places my make-up bag and hairbrush on top of the dresser, then retrieves the pink lingerie bag. “Jackpot.” He grins, unzipping it.
I watch as he goes through my knickers and bras, and I blush a bit when I see his eyes flicker over them. I have no doubt from the look in those brown eyes of his that he’s envisioning me in them.
And I can tell he likes the visuals his mind is coming up with.
“This,” he says, holding up a pink silk thong with delicate straps, “is what I would like to see on you.”
Noah walks back over to the bed but doesn’t hand me the pair of knickers he has in his hand.
“Would you care for me to put them on for you?” he asks, his voice low.
GOOD MORNING TO ME.
I flick back the duvet. “Please.”
Noah’s hand travels down my leg, causing heat to flame within me. He gently lifts each of my legs to slide them into the thong, and then both his hands move back up my legs, gliding the silk fabric upwards. The contrast between the masculine feel of his hands and the exquisite silk is hot. I lift my body up so he can manoeuvre the thong into place, and a groan escapes his throat as he slips the delicate straps over my hips.
“You’re dressed,” he says, dipping his head down towards mine. “Do you care to stay that way?”
Then he moves to kiss me, but I put my fingertips over his lips to stop him. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I haven’t brushed my teeth and I feel like something has died inside my mouth. So you can’t kiss me on the lips.”
Noah bursts out laughing. “One, what could have possibly died in your mouth, and two, how are you familiar with this experience?”
I giggle. “I feel disgusting. Just let me brush my teeth. I can be very efficient and quick with my oral hygiene.””
“What if I kiss you other places besides your mouth?” Noah asks, his lips suddenly caressing me below my jaw. “It could be the rule. No mouth kissing. But kissing everywhere else is in play.”
His lips travel to my earlobe, sending a ripple of excitement through me. Then I feel his tongue travel down the side of my neck, his teeth lightly grazing me as he pins me back down onto the mattress. One hand slides underneath my T-shirt, his fingers gliding across my stomach. I trail my fingers down his muscular arm, then upwards to his back, and I stroke it, feeling the powerful muscles that are mine to touch.
We make love, our lips never connecting, but exploring each other everywhere else. It’s sensual, slow, and hot, and by the time we come together, we both climax at the same time with a tremendous orgasm.
I’m once again reminded of how beautifully we fit. Not just in the act of sex, but as people who are meant to be together.
After we finish, we take a shower together—something I’ve never done before—and when Noah washes my hair for me? God, I’m ready to devour him for a second time this morning. But I resist, and after changing into some casual clothing, we finally head downstairs for breakfast.
“This is the only meal I’m capable of cooking,” Noah tells me.
Mila bounds up to her beloved master, ball in her mouth and tail wagging. “Do you mind if we take a walk after breakfast so Mila can burn off some energy?” he asks.
“Not at all,” I say, smiling at him. I move to the sink and dump out the tea Noah had lovingly made for me earlier. “Sorry, I think I need to brew a new cup. I got very sidetracked from no-on-the-mouth-kissing sex.”
He chuckles at that. “It was the thought that counts, right?”
“Yes,” I say, but this time I’m serious. “It does.”
Noah’s eyes meet mine and I know he understands just how much it does. He moves towards me and cups the back of my head with his hand. Then he brushes the sweetest kiss onto my forehead. “I know you need tea and toast, but would you like anything else?” he asks, his fingers massaging my hair.
I shake my head. “Nope, I’m good with that.”
Noah steps back over to the range.
“Where are the tea bags?” I ask.
“In the cupboard to the left. They have several blends for you to choose from.”
I open it, retrieve the box of breakfast tea, and select a bag. As I prepare a new cup of tea, I see Noah load the toaster with slices of bread.
“What do you eat?” I ask.
“Depends on the season,” he says. “When I’m playing, I’ll just go with a coffee and head to the training centre, where they provide breakfast and lunch. It’s a fantastic canteen, with everything you could want, and they work with nutritionists so I can eat according to my plan. In the off season—which is a shorter one the further you go in Champions League play—I try to eat on the plan still. This morning, I’ll have porridge, fruit, and some Greek yogurt.”
“You’re so diligent.”
“To a point, yes. But since this is a holiday, I’m going to enjoy myself a bit. Like eating pick and mix in bed.”
I laugh. “I’m already a bad influence on you.”
“No. You’re the best influence on me.”
Ooh!
We finish preparing breakfast and take a seat inside at the round table, but we’re still blessed with amazing views of the sea. The sunlight ripples on the water, and gulls soar through the sky. It’s a beautiful sight to behold.
“What would you like to do today?” Noah asks, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Wait, how do you take your coffee? I know you ordered a flat white at The Biscuit Cutter, but how do you drink it at home?”
He smiles. “Lots of milk.”
“Okay, now I know how to make you a cup of coffee,” I say, buttering my toast.
Noah practically beams at that, and it makes me so happy, it’s downright stupid.
“All right, now that you know that, besides going for a walk, what do you want to do today?” he repeats.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the guest!”
“But what do you recommend? I don’t know anything about this area.”
I think on this for a moment. “Ooh! Let’s go to the ruins of Corfe Castle. It was built by William the Conqueror, and it’s beautiful up there. We can take Mila with us. It’s really cool to walk through and the views are spectacular.”
“That sounds perfect,” Noah says, taking a bite of his porridge.
“Then we can come back and have lunch.” I smile at him. “Sorry, I’m one of those women who can get very cranky if I’m even a bit peckish.”
“I won’t stand for that.”
I grin at him. “We can make lunch and maybe do something crazy. I know one thing I’d like to do before you head back on Sunday, however.”
“Anything.”
“Can you teach me some basics about football?”
Noah studies me. “Really?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Yes. Like teach me some of your moves. I want to know what you’re doing when I watch you on the pitch for friendlies.”
Noah almost appears taken aback by my request, and that hurts my heart for him. I know it’s because the only other person who truly cared about his football career was his father. There’s been nobody in that place since his tragic death.
Until now, I think with determination.
“Violet,” he says slowly, “you don’t have to watch friendlies or my games if you aren’t into football.”
“You’re wrong about that. You’re a football player. It’s the thing that brings you joy. Of course I’m going to watch you play, as much as possible.”
His eyes grow soft, and I know I’ve touched him.
“Thank you,” he says, his voice quiet. “I know you know what that means to me.”
“I do. So we can find a park later, and if you have a football in the boot, we’ll go kick it around.”
A beautiful smile lights up his face at this prospect, and it makes my heart flutter.
And just as I’m having these little moments towards falling for him, I think I just gave him another moment of starting to fall for me, too.