Brazen

I check the clock and drive faster.

Noah will be leaving the office at any minute, and I haven’t seen her all day.

I’ve been dying to claim her lips since Benson interrupted us on her porch.

Noah and her lips have even been running through my dreams.

My tires squeal a little as I pull into the office parking lot. The front door opens, and Noah steps outside. To my surprise, she doesn’t stop when she sees me. She strolls away down the sidewalk. Cursing my timing, I throw my truck into park and jump to the pavement.

“Noah!” I start to jog. “Hey, wait up!”

“Oh, hey, Brazen.” She lifts her purse strap higher on her shoulder but doesn’t stop walking.

I’m stuck between loving her legs, which are bare again today, or hating them because they are carrying her farther away.

“Where are you going?” I ask, trying to keep the annoyance from my tone.

Our date went great last night before our good-bye, didn’t it? Why the hell does she seem as if she can’t get away from me fast enough?

I walk beside her, meeting her brisk pace.

“To the center. I have another class tonight.”

Is she giving me the brush-off?

Stunned, I falter in my steps and come to a stop. Noah doesn’t even slow.

She does look back at me over her shoulder while biting her bottom lip. “Well, are you coming?” Her voice is sly, and her expression hints of wicked intentions.

She’s up to no good. It’s intoxicating on such an innocent girl. She doesn’t have to ask me twice before I’m hot on her heels again. Together, we walk the short distance to her class.

I’ve never really enjoyed sitting around, drawing, but it’s a whole new experience with Noah. At the center, she helps to set up my area once again but neglects to set up her own.

“I’ll be right back,” she tells me.

And I’m left scratching my head.

The instructor comes out but still no Noah.

I fiddle with the oil paints that she set up for me, keeping my attention on the door.

I’m still watching it as she comes back in … wearing a robe.

I attempt to control my reaction, but I’m positive that I fail when I have to practically pick my jaw up off the floor. The tube of green paint falls from my hand. With long strides, Noah walks onto the stage in the center of the room, never once breaking eye contact with me. I get the sense that she’s telling me something, and I am sure as fuck listening. She takes a deep breath and looks down for just a beat. Then, her chin lifts, her eyes rise to mine, and a coy smile spreads across her face as she slowly drops the robe to her feet.

I couldn’t look away even if there were a freight train barreling toward me.

It isn’t about her body or her naked skin.

My initial reaction is so much deeper than that.

Noah is wearing all her emotions on her flesh.

It’s complete honesty in its truest form, and somehow, it doesn’t even bother me that we’re in a roomful of people. They are inconsequential when it comes to what’s transpiring between us. Noah isn’t up there for them. She relaxes her shoulders and positions herself for the hour-long session, and I still haven’t cracked open a single color or touched any of the brushes set out for me.

Her body is the perfect picture of sensuality. Her right hand lightly touches her slender neck and draws attention to her delicate clavicle. Her left hand grazes her hip, accentuating her natural curves, and her ashy blonde hair falls in front of her shoulder, resting atop the swell of her breasts.

My eyes are drawn to her hardened nipples, the slope of her hip, and the length of her leg. Her eyes are glued to me as I take in the breathtaking view. Every other person in the class has already started while I’m dumbstruck by Noah’s beauty. A small giggle escapes her lips, and a tiny amount of my sense returns to my brain. Finally, I search through my paints and get started on capturing her image. As I do, her lips part, and she takes a deep inhale of air.

Something shifts, and the chemistry between us turns from sensual to erotic. With each sweep of paint on canvas, it’s as if my hands are on her body. I fight to hold on to my restraint in this room filled with people. Noah’s skin becomes flushed, and a fire burns behind her eyes. I push down a groan.

This girl. This woman is beyond compare. I couldn’t have dreamed up anything more visually stunning. I’d dare any man to try.

More importantly though is her heart.

It’s pure. And, in this room, while she bares herself to me, both physically and emotionally, our hearts beat in a rhythm that is our own.

I’m positive this girl will own me—body, heart, and soul.

The nude color on my canvas spreads easily as I work. Paint smears on my hands, and carelessly, it starts to coat my skin. Sweat develops above my brows, and the blood filling my body slowly floods to my cock until I have to hide my public indecency. Noah examines my every move with knowing eyes, and it becomes harder for her to stay posed.

Time moves at a halted pace as we share this moment with one another.

Those dresses that she wears, the ones I love, will never be teasingly sexy again. Now, those dresses will torment me in the best kind of way.

My reactions are dulled, and it takes me longer than it should to realize the hour is up and that the students around me are packing their things. A few girls gossip in hushed whispers as they pass me. There isn’t any part of me that cares that our emotions are not a secret within this room. I want the whole world to know how mesmerized I am by Noah’s bold stunt.

These distractions are only a distant buzz in the background while my focus remains with Noah. Her body arches as she leans down to retrieve her robe from the floor and slides it over her body, and I leave my stuff where it is and stride toward her. I stand before her, speechless but wanting to say a million things all at once.

You’re beautiful.

I want you.

Let me know every part of you, please.

“I like you, Brazen, and I’m not afraid to say it first. This is me, and I want to share myself with you. Not professionally and not as your friend. I want to know you in a way no one else has before.”

I had so much I wanted to say, but now, there is only one thing I need to do.

I take Noah by the wrist and pull her to me. Her pulse drums under the touch of my fingers. My other hand goes to her cheek, and my attention zeroes in on her lips, soft and glossy pink. She sinks into me, and our hips touch. Slowly, or maybe it’s quickly—at this point, I don’t know—I lean down to taste her lips. Sweetly, my mouth covers hers, our connection lingering. It takes everything in me not to tear her robe back off and lift her into my arms. If we weren’t in public, I would do exactly that. Noah deserves more from me.

Her warm lips brush against mine, and I deepen our kiss. She moans and then trembles as the reaction runs through her entire body. Her lips part, and I take my chance. Tentatively, my tongue traces the inside of her lips, but there is nothing hesitant about Noah’s response to me.

This is a first kiss that beats anything.

Super Bowl Sunday falling on a four-day weekend for the best possible matchup, and your house is filled with free booze and greasy catered food while the cheerleaders are in your living room. This type of man’s dream scenario doesn’t even compare to what it’s like to have my hands on Noah.

I can feel her smile against my mouth as we kiss.

I pull back, needing to see her eyes.

“I like you, too, and I’m not afraid to say it back,” I say, making myself clear.

She pulls at her robe, double-checking that the fabric is in place.

“Do you want to go get dinner?” she asks with so much hope in her voice.

“Yeah, I know a good place around the corner.”

It’s my favorite place—Al’s Place.

Florida isn’t known for its pizza, but Al’s is home to the best New York–style slice around and has a comfortable atmosphere.

After Noah gets dressed, we head over and grab a couple of slices and a pair of sodas before taking a seat.

“Did you plan that whole thing for me?” I ask her.

“What? Did I get naked in front of an entire class all for you?” A piece of steaming cheese falls to her chin, and she quickly licks it away before adding some red pepper to her pizza. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Her ribbing words produce a smile.

I chuckle. “Okay, so how long did you know you were going to do that?”

“I booked tonight the first time I checked out the center, but after the other night, yeah, I hoped bringing you along would make my intentions clear. Posing in that class wasn’t just about me anymore.”

“What were your original intentions?”

“I already told you I was all about trying new things. Well, I have a list. I call it my Orbit List. Both attending an art class with a nude model and being the nude model were on my list of things. Every item on my list is about pushing my boundaries, and I’d say those classes were way outside of my comfort zone.”

I take a bite before asking, “Orbit List?” I have no idea what that is.

“It’s a list for me to finish in a year. One orbit around the sun.” Noah takes a pull from her soda and wipes the grease from her hands.

“Makes sense. What else is on your list?”

“A little of this and a helping of that.” Shyness is hidden in her words.

“So, you are willing to pose naked but not tell me what’s on your list?” My words are light and have a hint of laughter in them.

“Exactly. Plus, you’ve probably seen enough of me for one evening.”

I don’t think I’ll ever see enough.

“Fair enough. Answer me this then. Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you make the list?” I pick my pizza back up and take another bite.

“I didn’t want to waste any more of my time. I want to see and do as much as I possibly can in this next year. I don’t want anything to ever hold me back again.”

It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that this list really means something to Noah. I don’t know what’s shaped her, but the pieces of herself that she’s sharing right now are important. So, I lean in to give her my undivided attention.

“What held you back in the past?”

“I grew up in an orphanage.” She doesn’t expand. There are no other words telling me what she means.

“Tell me about it.” I reach across the table and take her hand.

She stares at our linked fingers for a brief pause before she speaks, “It’s weird. Everything I can tell you about the way I grew up can also be followed by a contradiction. I was surrounded by other children but was still pretty lonely. I shared a room with five other girls. I never ate alone. There was always someone to play games. Sometimes, we’d have movie nights or giant slumber parties, and all the kids would set up sleeping bags in the entertainment hall. But they were always strict about lights out . . .”

Her hand flinches inside mine, and she looks around the restaurant, obviously uncomfortable with the topic in such a public setting.

“Let’s get out of here. You can tell me the rest while I walk you home.” Keeping hold of her hand, I rise from the table and pull her to me. My arm goes around her shoulders, and I keep her close as we leave the pizza place and walk down the street.

“Go on, Noah. I’m listening,” I urge in a soft whisper.

“Despite being surrounded, it was isolating. I never saw my mom after the age of six. The only people who cared for me were people who were paid to watch after me. We went on a few trips into town over the years, but a couple of visits into town is nothing like really experiencing life outside of the place that I lived. School was even worse. The other kids didn’t understand me. How do you explain not having parents to another little kid whose parents are their whole world? I was different from them and navigating it in hand-me-down clothes and secondhand school supplies. So, yeah, it was isolating.”

“You lived with your parents before six?” The now familiar smell of cake batter wafts from her hair, and I take a deep inhale of the sweet scent.

“Well, my mom. She gave up her parental rights, and I haven’t heard from her since, except for a letter that showed up right before I left Seattle. I haven’t been able to bring myself to read it though.”

“Maybe one day,” I tell her.

“Yeah, maybe,” she halfheartedly agrees.

Outside her house, Noah looks up at me with so much hope, and I’m beginning to understand where that strong-willed belief comes from. I pull her against me and press my lips to hers to say good night. Our second kiss is even better than the first and I’d be willing to wager that every kiss will only get sweeter with time.

“I have to get inside,” she says as we break apart.

“Thank you, Noah.” I can’t impress upon her how grateful and sincere I am.

“What are you thanking me for?”

“For bringing me along tonight, for everything we shared in that classroom, and for every piece of yourself you shared with me after. I want you in my life and not just at my business. I want to know everything you will tell me.”

It’s quick, but it couldn’t be truer.

Sometimes, someone comes into your life, and you just know it’s something special. Noah is my something special. Sunday asked me earlier if I was certain, and right now, outside in the Florida heat, I’m positive of my certainty.

Noah is someone worth risking everything for.