Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Noah
Admitting that was way more difficult than it should have been.
I feel Taylor here, in this house. This was our home together.
She's gone, and I know it. I'm trying to move on, trying to let someone else in, like she made me promise I would.
But I still can't help feeling conflicted, like I'm betraying her somehow by doing these things with another woman, at all, let alone here.
But my god, Morgan makes me feel…it's hard to put into words, even in my own head. Like a kid again—a horny teenager with a crush. Alive like I haven't felt in so, so long.
The months of Taylor's illness, decline, and passing were brutal beyond comprehension. Hours felt like days, days felt like weeks, and the whole process from diagnosis to death felt like a lifetime. It sapped my spirit. Sucked me dry. Left me a husk, withered and wrecked.
I've felt empty inside for years. I can hide it, and did so pretty well, I think. I doubt anyone but Noel really knew how depressed I was and for how long. There was a period of two or three weeks around six months after Taylor’s death where I was terrified of the darkness inside me, of the horrible thoughts and ideations I had infecting my mind and soul…
that was when I threw myself into work like a man possessed, running eighteen-hour shifts, sleeping at the station for days on end…
I'm much better now, but there's still this gnawing emptiness at the core of me. Yes, it's missing Taylor, my best friend, my life partner, my wife, my lover. But it's more than that, and that's what's hard to wrap my head around.
I miss more than just Taylor.
I miss companionship. I miss laughing with someone, sharing things—a meal, a joke, a random thought, a bad day, a good day.
I miss touching and being touched.
I miss soft skin and hot curves. I miss the slide of a silky thigh over mine. I miss gasping breaths. I miss soft screams in the darkness.
I had all that.
It's gone.
She's gone, but the need is still there.
I'm still here, but she's gone.
I couldn't save her, not with all the fire engines, hose attacks, Halligans, firefighters, and knowledge in the world.
She's gone, and I'm here—and my needs and desires are still here, too.
The sounds Morgan made when I touched her? Indelibly erotic. The way she arched against me, the way she clutched me, rode me, begged me to talk to her?
Fuck.
For all the heat and intensity of my sex life with Taylor, we were never vocal during it.
A gasp, a grunt, a 'yes' or an 'oh god', sure.
But dirty talk? I tried that once, and she just laughed.
She thought it was funny rather than erotic.
I didn't mind—I loved laughing with Taylor more than just about anything, even and especially during sex.
She was an easy laugh and always made me feel funny.
But dirty talk was just comical to her, so we left it out of our relationship.
I truly don't know what came over me when Morgan asked me to talk to her. She needed to get out of her head, and I knew it. I could feel it. Instinct took over and my mouth just ran away from me.
She seemed to like it, though.
A lot.
Shit, so did I.
But now, letting Morgan touch me? It’s a whole new thing. A new fear to face: how do I stop my brain from comparing? From going to Taylor, to the things we did together, the way she did them?
"Hey." Her voice is soft, breathy. "Noah?"
“Yeah.” I'm facing the glass, struggling with myself.
I want this. I want to feel good. I want her touch. I want to get out of my head. I want to be present. Here, with Morgan.
She applies pressure to my shoulders, gently urging me to turn around. I pivot in place, put my back to the glass—it's bitterly cold, the shock of it sending a shiver through me.
The shiver becomes something else when I see the look in her eyes—glittering arousal, heated need. Raw female appreciation. sexual satiety—the lazy, incandescent satisfaction of a well-pleased woman.
And fuck, is that hot.
"Hi," she breathes. "Back with me?"
I nod. "Yeah. Sorry, I—"
She's naked—she took off her thong at some point, and my gaze goes to her pussy. She blushes, pushes up against me. Touches my lips with fingertips, shushing me. "Save the apologies, Noah. I don't want them. Feel however you feel…just share it with me. Yeah?"
"Trying to be present. There's a lot going on up here." I tap my temple. "And I just want to let it all go and be here with you. You're so fucking gorgeous and I feel so damn lucky to have met you, to share all this with you."
She smiles, fingertips playing along my lower lip, tugging, toying. Her breasts are soft and firm against my chest, her nipples hard little points, her belly soft against mine. "Noah?"
“Yeah?"
"I feel lucky, too. The way you make me feel?" She shakes her head, eyes wide and full of emotion. "I haven't come like that…ever. I feel like I should thank you." When I open my mouth to reply, she silences me with her fingers again. "But instead of saying thank you, I'd rather show you."
"Just don't do anything you don't want to. I expect nothing. I didn't do that for some quid pro quo thing. I did it because I wanted to."
Morgan tugs at my jeans, fingers hooking in the hip pockets and yanking them down. "I won't. You can trust that, Noah—I'll never, ever do anything to you or let you do anything to me that I don't want. I promise."
I let the jeans slump to my ankles, step on the cuffs and slide my feet free.
Morgan's eyes hold mine as she trails her fingers down my chest and abs, halting at my waist. Then, she glances down—a small, shy, yet eager grin spreads across her face at the bulge in my boxers—the outline of my cock is quite obvious, the tip wedged inside the elastic waistband and almost protruding up over the top.
It's hard to breathe, and my heart is crashing crazily in my chest. I haven't been this nervous for anything in a very, very long time.
I swallow hard, cup her face, pull her in and claim her mouth—she whimpers as I kiss her, and then she digs her fingernails into my sides, huffing into my mouth as the kiss breaks.
Those nails rake down. Catch in elastic.
Hook under, drag down; inch by inch, my cock is exposed.
It throbs as the cool air washes over me, and I can't help tensing, muscles contracting; my dick jumps as I clench all over.
My underwear hit the floor, and I'm naked with a woman for the first time in a long time.
With a new woman for the first time in decades—I don't even remember who I may have been with before Taylor.
A soft giggle brings me back to the present, and I refocus on Morgan. I blink at her—she's staring down at me, biting her lip on a grin. "Holy shit, Noah." Her gaze lifts to mine. "You're huge."
I gulp. "I…"
Her hands frame my face and she kisses me, a quick touch of the lips, then pulls away to whisper. "You don't have to say anything. You can say anything, just don't feel like I need you to say anything."
I rest my forehead against hers, and she rolls her head down to gaze me some more, giggling again.
"It's been a long time, and I've only been with a handful of men in my life, but…
" she gnaws on her lip again, pulling away to look at me, grinning, shy, eager, aroused, nervous.
"You have a very big and very beautiful penis, Noah. "
I grunt a laugh. "I…ummm…thanks?"
Beautiful is a new one, but I'll take it.
Nothing like a hot naked woman telling you that you're well-endowed to make you feel ten feet tall.
My heart pounds and I'm shaking all over. My stomach curls in as she roams my chest with her hands, my stomach, my waist. Her touch slides around to cup my ass, and then she grins and giggles again, clawing her nails into the muscle of my backside.
"I guess I'm also a sucker for your ass," she whispers, palming my butt, squeezing it.
I don't know what to say, can't seem to find words.
Her lips touch mine. "Shush, Noah. I get it. Trust me. Just…" she licks her lips and runs her hands down my thighs, up over my hip bones, hands raking inches away from my hard, aching, bobbing, throbbing cock. “I’m not teasing you, I promise. Just working up the courage."
"Morgan, I know you're not teasing me. But if you have to work up the courage—"
Her mouth clashes with mine, and her tongue stabs into my mouth; I groan as heat and desire ripple through me at the fierceness of her kiss, and I palm the plump round perfection of her tight little ass. She hisses at the touch, the sound one of ravaging arousal.
And then she wraps a hand around my cock.
I lose my breath in a ragged groan at the sensation, and I can't help opening my eyes to look down, seeing her small hand clutching my cock. "Ohhh…fuck."
Her lips curve against my mouth. "Yeah?"
"Uh-huh," I growl.
"Good?"
"Fucking incredible."
Her hand is hot and small and soft, squeezing tightly around the head, and then loosening to clutch gently. Her eyes find mine, holding, pinning me in place so I can't look away as she slides her hand down my aching length.
"Fuck," I whisper again. "Morgan. Jesus."
My knees shake at her touch, and my stomach flips and my heart slams crazily, and my balls tighten against my body, feel heavy and swollen. My cock pulses, swells in her hand. Pressure builds behind my navel, in my balls, and my shaft throbs.
I squeeze my eyes shut as she caresses me slowly. "Morgan, fuck. Fuck."
My knees go weak at her touch, and I sag against the sliding door, skin squealing against glass.
Backing up, Morgan pulls me by the hands, walks backward toward the couch. Turns me, shoves me so I stumble backward and collapse onto my butt.
Her eyes are…hungry, sparking arousal, fiery with erotic need as she gazes at me, eyes raking over my chest and arms and thighs, landing at last on my cock, locking there, staring shamelessly, greedily, a grin of appreciation on her lips.