Inevitably we had to leave the bed and his apartment.

The weekend was over, and life called.

Balls.

My diary overflowed with everything I’d delayed for two days, so just after 6am I forced my brain back online by sitting down at my computer in my own apartment, with an oversized mug of coffee at my right and a plate of jam toast on my left and I tackled the most pressing jobs first.

One was a book cover for a trying author. It’s not that I don’t like her, she’s a sweet lady who writes the dirtiest, most perfect smut romance, but god, she is overly precise on what she wanted. And while my rates are free edits on a full cover package, I’m ready to tap out when I read a lengthy email from her detailing how the shade of purple wasn’t purple enough and could I put better swirls and move the font two inches to the left.

Despite my lack of sleep, I’m clear-headed and I amend all requests while I listened to Imagine Dragons through my headphones. When I finally email over the finished product, all my fingers and toes crossed I felt good about it, so I move on to tackle my growing unopened emails.

I worked steadily for seven hours until my grumbling belly brought me out of my daze. Only Subway will do I decided. A nice, fat Italian sandwich with a cookie and a diet coke so I slipped into a pink hoodie, tossed on a pair of white Vans and with my wallet and keys I’m out the door in minutes. I ate in, people watching while I inhaled my food, mentally sifting through my to-do list and trying with all I am to keep my mind off Noah and how amazing my body feels.

Sore and amazing.

He’s still there between my thighs with every slight shift on my seat. There’s no denying how complicated we’ve made things. Or maybe that’s just me being me and overthinking everything as is my way. I like to have solutions or things just grow and fester inside me.

I resolved the next time I saw Noah I’m gonna force the words out of my mouth. What are we doing? And go from there. If he says it was just a bit of fun, he needed a release, or it was a bi-queer research, then sure, I’m going to be hurt, fuck it will devastate me, but I need the answer.

Adulting is the suckiest sometimes, but I won’t die if this weekend was all it would be.

I’ll just punch Noah if he dared ditch me altogether. Fuck that. I licked it, it’s mine.

With my food finished, I took the five-block stroll back home, thankfully I’m working from my apartment today since the city seemed more overcrowded than usual.

I’m one block away when I start to feel funny.

A young kid carrying a backpack bumped into my shoulder and I apologized.

My brow began to sweat. I was cold all over.

My head swam a little.

And then swam a lot when I twisted my head suddenly.

The whole world tilted on its axis.

My vertigo was instant.

Some jackass was more likely to rob my purse and put me on YouTube before offering help. So, while my panic rose in my chest I took the measured, slow steps to take me back home. Because the last thing I want is to face plant in a sea of strangers on a busy Manhattan street.

 “Shit, crap, crap.” I muttered to myself and apologized instantly when an old lady wearing a fur hat gave me a disgusted look. She probably assumed I had Tourette’s.

Miraculously a month later I got back to my building, sweating profusely, trying to hold back nausea rising in my throat. Submerged in the familiar dizzying sensation I badly want to pour out my woe with racking sobs. It’s the most unpleasant feeling to have my equilibrium taken from me.

The motion sickness punched through me harder than ever almost as soon as I was through the electronic door. But at least I’m home, I sighed. I’m somewhere familiar.

I’m going to throw up. I know it. It rushed through me like a fucking parasite. I old-lady shuffled my feet to one of the lobby sofas by memory of direction only since my eyes were closed to ease my wonky balance.

God, of all times to be plagued with sudden illness.

My choices are slim since I regret not taking my cell phone with me. So, I decided to wait right there until the debilitating sensation lessens enough I can crawl my ass over to the elevator and get myself home to a flat surface and then I can call my momma to whine.

With the noise of the city, I used it to regulate my breathing while I closed my eyes and laid my head back. The secret to easing vertigo is stillness.

And I know this because I’ve suffered with it since I was a teen. Only it doesn’t usually hit me this swiftly.

Along with my cell-phone, my motion sickness pills were upstairs. Thus, answering how good is Sena in a crisis? Not fucking good at all.

The concierge must have called up to Noah or my thoughts conjured him like my very own Batman because he appeared out of nowhere crouching in front of me. God. I feel like I’m dying, the world rushed with speed through my ears and every flicker of my eyeballs is excruciating to my nausea. My panic has a sound and it’s me rapidly breathing.

Knowing Noah’s here actually brings an overwhelming urge to cry my relief.  I don’t mind being a damsel in distress when I’m in danger of puking in public and I know he’ll help me. Hands touched my thighs. “What’s wrong, kitten?”

“Dizzy.” I whined pitiful. I’m eighty nine percent in self-pity mode. “Vertigo. Everything is spinning.” He had me upright in seconds leaning heavily into him, grateful for his solid can-do-anything body. I know already this is gonna knock me on my ass incapable of doing anything for days.

Mentally I browsed my schedule and groaned. I have so much work still to do that being out of action is not really an option I have the luxury of.

But as my momma would tell me, puking trumps everything. And I’m trying like mad not to puke at all. Just get me to bed and I can die in peace.

“I hate this.” I moaned into his chest as we move towards the elevator. I clung harder to Noah than a sugar baby to her daddy’s credit card.

“Poor kitten,” Noah’s voice smiled. It wasn’t his first rodeo of me sick-whining. I made a terrible patient. “I got you, let’s get you home and into bed. Do you feel sick?”

“Yeah, I’ll try not to throw up down your back.”

He chuckled.

Without a warning he swept me up into his arms when the elevator door pinged open. Close to crying I buried my head into the side of his crazy-good smelling neck. A scent I recognized because I’ve kissed that throat.

Noah stepped into the car like I weighed nothing. I'm too disoriented to enjoy the experience, dammit, my face pressed deeper into the warmth masking out the light that made me woozy.

I heard. “Oh, dear. Is Sena okay?”

Mrs P was in the elevator with us. “She's feeling a little sick. I'm taking her home.” When the car doesn’t stop on my floor I know he’s taking me to his home. With the gorgeous bed I’d spent all weekend rolling around having the best sex of my existence.

It’s like going back to the scene of the crime before I’m prepared but, oh, bless my cotton socks, I just wanted to snuggle into his sheets and pillows and die in peace it’s not too much to ask for, is it?

The floors go by and sweet Mrs P stayed in the elevator telling Noah the best remedies to help my nausea. When we reached the top, he stepped out. “Take care of her, dear.” She says patting my arm sympathetically. I mumbled a thank you to her into Noah’s neck

“I always do. Night, Mrs P.”

He does. Noah has always taken care of me in every single way possible. My best friend was wonderful. Whether it ever registered on some level to him, but he’s been the most influential person in my life in later years.

“Noah.” I complained, my grip tight onto the back of his neck.

“Nearly there, kitten. I'll get you tucked in and grab your pills from downstairs.”

“I hate being sick,” I muttered against his chest to hide my hurl of emotion. “I want to die.”

I felt his chest rumble with a silent laugh.

Yep. I was a big ole baby when I was sick/dying.

I caught his smile. “You’re not dying today.” It shows how grave I felt when I passively allow Noah to strip me down to my underwear. I can’t even remember if I’m wearing nice ones today. I just hoped they match. They probably don’t.

When I’m placed in his bed it’s like being enfolded in a hug from a cloud. The bed enveloped me. I smelled clean sheets so from the time I left early this morning to now Noah or his housekeeper changed the bed. I blushed.

I belated saw he’s dressed for a workout. Low slung sweatpants (I can’t even enjoy the dick print alert my brain sends out) and a form fitting white sleeveless shirt.

Vertigo sucked turkey balls.

With my eyes closed, the room is only vaguely spinning on its axis now. My belly rolled, and I prayed for death.

The bed depressed, then Noah was beside me, gathering me in and flattening kisses to my forehead. Sigh. Adored him.

Palming my nape, he hooked his thumbs under my chin and held me prisoner in his powerful stare and the fingers caressing my nape felt nice. I loved his every touch. His stare intense, his concern a little scary. The dark stubble he hasn’t shaved yet decorated a strong jawline only served to add an extra edge of sharpness to the overall package of Noah.

He’s magnetic. I’m soaked despite how bad I feel.

“Tell me what you need. Cold drink? Were you feeling ill earlier?”

Nuzzling his skin, I shook my head and instantly regretted it. “It came on sudden at Subway. I have to work, there’s too much waiting for me.” He’s always warm all over, and my cold fingers found a spot under his shirt to seek heat.

“Jesus, you’re frozen.”

“I know. Give me some of your warm, please.”

“Work can wait.” Declared the millionaire, but I feel too shitty to joke about him being Scrooge McDuck.

He made a noise and I knew he was smiling, letting me forage under his shirt I curled my whole body into him and his arms came around me.

“If you want to throw up, let me know.”

God, I hope I don’t vomit. That’s up there with the things I loathe most in this world, neck and neck with the SC Gamecocks.

My hand moved slowly over his stomach, each muscle was so fucking cut.

“You’re so hard.”

He suppressed a laugh. “Sena…”

Face fused I was glad it was pressed into his shoulder. “I mean your abs. You’re cut like glass.”

“That’s what a thousand sit ups every morning will do. You saying you don’t like it?”

I shook my head and groaned when assaulted with a fresh nauseating wave of dizziness. “No. Just suddenly wishing I wasn’t so fluffy around my middle.”

“Your softness is gorgeous.” Slowly his hand drifted under the cover he’d tucked around me, and fingers touched my hip, moving upwards to stroke said cushioning, his caress soothed and riled me up at the same time.

My fingers walk up and down his chest, playing with the waist of his sweats.

“Sena.” Suddenly ten pounds of smoke entered his voice. “If you don’t want me to rock your world even more than it already is, you need to stop touching my stomach.”

My blood set on fire. I chanced popping my eyes open to look up at him smoldering at me. “You’re sick but I’m still gonna react.”

Oh boy. His meaning penetrated, and my hand stalled on his lower abdomen. The mixed emotions I’m grappling with started oozing out of their lockbox.

It felt good.

I mean, I was dying, but still, that was nice.

“When I wake up, rock me, ‘kay?” I said and made the effort to pat his hard crotch.

He groaned and hugged me tighter. “Sleep, kitten, you’ll feel better soon.”

He brushed the top of my head. Not quite a kiss, but I treasured the gesture.

He held me close until I do sleep.

 

~*~*~

 

I’m sick for three days and for three days Noah didn’t leave me, and he didn’t kick me to my own apartment. He brought me liquids, soups and chocolate when I whined for it. He helped me in the bathroom while I threw up like a beached whale. He held me all night for three days though I must have been such a pest, what with the snuggling and constant touching that soothed me, as I told him.

When I wanted to shower he carried me into the bathroom to stop me headbutting the floor. On the third day I felt blessedly better, testing my head I moved it on the pillow and no motion sickness followed.

Looking to the left I see Noah on the opposite pillow.

And he’s awake watching me.

I’m not ready to leave this perfect bubble, but it’s time.

“That’s a big sigh, kitten.”

My eyes came up. “I wasn’t aware I’d sighed.”

“Almost blew my hair back.”

I snorted looking at his shaved head.

I think he knew I was feeling better last night when I rolled over in bed as he got home from a quick trip to one of his clubs and practically climbed on top of him to sleep, but he didn’t protest, he just pulled me closer in that new possessive caring way of his, wrapped his arms tight around the base of my spine and let me fall back to sleep.

But now I’m all kinds of guilty for relying on him so much the last days, for taking comfort when I was perfectly healthy again.

“You have some color back in your face.” He said in his sleepy voice. It affected me as always. I rubbed my thighs together beneath the sheets.

“Yeah.” I answered. “I’m back to normal. I should get out of your way and see what work is waiting on me.”

“You’re not in my way.”

My bones sagged in relief.

“Thank you for looking after me.”

We spoke at the same time and then smiled at each other.

It’s a strange space Noah and I are in.

Counting the weekend before, I’ve now been in his bed with him for five continuous days pressed together as close as two people can be and still we haven’t spoken about all the sexy shenanigans.

Besides a few forehead kisses, he hasn’t attempted to touch me in a sexual way.

Maybe it was a one-time only thing. His curiosity sated and I’m back in my friendzone.

My belly clutched because I know I should relegate myself back there before he can, to feel okay about it and forget everything we did if I’m to salvage my friendship. My best friendship. There’s no other choice or I’d lose him and that’s just unthinkable to me.

The thought of it made me grimly ill.

But as much as I’m reluctant to get hurt, I know I can’t fear it.

Instead of climbing from the bed as my head was telling me I slid the few inches separating us, he watched me. My own insecurities were easier to believe than the facts as I see it.

We’ve had sex. We had a lot of sex. That wasn’t Noah throwing me a bone.

He wanted me just as much, so my reluctance to attempt talking about it is all in my head and the longer I kept it there, the more it grew into a monster it doesn’t need to be.

I’m scared. Yes.

But the want of him is stronger than my fear.

I tried not to give any credence to the way I’m huffing air through my nose, erratic and short bursts of nervous oxygen.  

So, bravely, I took the step myself, I don’t wait for him to make a move. I move through the warm sheets and kind of half scooted on top of Noah. He didn’t push me away, which I take as a good sign. In fact, his hands came around to palm my backside shuffling me even closer and then one slid up the length of my spine, bringing shivers with it before he cupped the back of my head.

“Hi.” I smiled and rubbed my nose against the side of his.  

He brought me in an inch more, mouths barely touched, but I felt branded by his touch. “Hey.” He’s not smiling. He’s looking at me keenly and my brain kind of shut down for a blink, seduced into desire rather than forming a logical thought because I know what’s thick and hard against my hipbone and it’s taking all my will not to fully roll on top of Noah and move our clothes out of the way.

I want that more than anything.

“What are we doing, Noah? Are we just fooling around?” His free hand stroked my hip. It’s fire and it’s perfect. “I mean, that’s fine if we are.” I rushed on.

I warned myself whatever he answered I’d be fine with. Eventually. Because the thing about asking risky questions is the moment they’re spoken, there’s no taking them back and that is freedom from the torment of the unfamiliar.

One way or another I’ll have my answer and I will go from there.

I can handle just being Noah’s fuck-buddy.

I think.

I hope.

I want him. That’s not new news.

But I need to know what he wanted from me, so I can play it accordingly. I was a woman with a fucking soft heart in danger of it being crushed. But I was in charge, and it was mine to decide what to do with it.

I wanted Noah. However, I could have him, for however long I could have him for.

This was my choice. Right or wrong, whether I got hurt, it was mine to own.  

Adulting at its best.

I smiled and brushed my lips over his stubble.

Fingers tightened on my nape, drawing me down. “We’re breaking about a thousand friend rules and about to fuck.” His leg hooked my leg under the sheets and pried them apart, so I fell deeper on top of him, pressing me into his cock.

I moaned and lowered my head. He’s not wrong. That is what we’re going to do.

And I can’t wait.

We kissed hot and sudden. No pre-empting, it’s full tongue and frantic tasting, his hands in my hair controlled the angles and the depth he wanted.

“You were made to be worshipped, Sena.” He half-grinned and winked.

“Then worship me.” Or fuck me like you mean it. My grin was swallowed by his tongue in my mouth. I loved his kisses, they’re forceful and gentle and each one stole my sanity until all I was is the flavor of him in my throat. He repositioned me under him, shamelessly I made room for him by spreading my legs and he settled into the space. We’re groin to groin. It’s epic agony. I want him inside me five minutes ago.

“I want this, Sena.” Something exceptional bloomed in my chest at his sincerity. Kisses rained over my cheeks. Soft, careful, tender kisses. They made me feel worshipped. They made me feel, period. The grab and grind move that came next was nothing tender about it at all. Not when his dick was heaven friction set on fire. I moaned into his mouth, biting on his lip, he kept right on moving between my thighs, his fingers made quick work to rid me of my sleep shorts and the tank top until I’m naked and ready for him.

“Please.”

“I will. So much pleasing, Sena.” Hot, drugged kisses, he pulled my head back to kiss my throat, down my chest he captured a nipple and my moan this time was watery and needful. I whimpered please ten million more times.

Noah’s face was thoughtful when he kissed back up my body. He braced over me. A titan sex god, breathing as hard as I was, and I took my fingers along his jaw, gazes held, seeing each other in these new phases of ourselves. For long silent minutes his hand stole between my thighs, stroking into my soaked pussy.

“I want this.” He repeated and I’m not sure if he meant my wet pussy or the new relationship between us. Either way I wanted both.

“I want you.” I told him. So, fucking much I’m blind from my need.

I’m so well attended to, he slipped in right to the pubic bone with hardly any warning. I felt Noah in the pit of my stomach and the back of my throat. His size is extraordinary, and it was impossible not to wince at first as I adjusted and took all of him. My heartbeat increased when he started moving after grunting my name and asking if I was okay. He always checked first, like I would ever say no when he was inside me.

The achy tightness was heaven.

By mutual accord we moved together. Fucking each other in a desperate bid to chase the pleasure we hungered for. Our rhythm fast, hard and sloppy-perfect. Noah pushed down, and I lifted to meet him. It was so fast, the pleasure blasted both of us almost immediately. I couldn’t see for how good I felt. I’d waited days for this connection again. Was it the same for Noah? I’m too distracted, maybe too timid to ask the question.

When he grabbed my ass cheeks in both hands, angling me up from the bed into his thrusts his cock grazed a place inside me that turned me blind, his name was torn out of me as I came and came and came. Noah followed me seconds later, with every hoarse grunt pressed to my throat he filled me down below with warm liquid. My arms banded around him and I enjoyed the last staccato pumps that brought Noah to a slow pause on top of me and we relaxed into two boneless bodies. “Fuck. Sena,” he chuffed sex-air against the hollow of my neck before lifting his head. Eyes, gorgeously heavy-lidded roamed my face. “Did I hurt you? I fucked you like an animal, I should have—”

“It was perfect.” In between haggard breaths blistering knocks lashed my subconscious, reminding me I let my vagina take over before I got any real answers.

“Felt so good. Never been that good before.” I preened like he’d handed me a gold trophy. He peppered a kiss between my boobs, “you’ll be sore, sorry.”

“I’m not sorry,” I chuckled. “It was amazing.” And we know why a second later when he slipped out of me and his pleasure followed. “Damn. No condom,” Our eyes met. He didn’t look worried so much as hesitant to how I’d react. “I’m clean, kitten. I never fuck without a rubber.”

I smiled kissing his chin. “I trust you. I take the pill.” I suppose it should have been a talk we had before the actual raw sex. But then as proven, Noah and I were not conventional in any shape or form.

I felt so good floating on the ceiling that I could almost ignore the tickle in my skull to go again and enjoy his cock inside me bare, but as Noah started up, hummed and laid a necklace of kisses around my neck.

I blurted, “Are you still gay, lion? What does this mean? I’m so muddled because this...feels good.” I snorted an embarrassed laugh, silly really when I still feel him dripping out of me onto my inner thighs and we’re pressed as close as two mating humans can be.

“I like fucking you, kitten.” Heat filled my face. Noah’s never censored his words. He says what he thinks and means what he says. His gaze trapped me in the blueness as he gave me his Noah smile. The smile that fisted my belly.

“Are you asking if I’m suddenly gonna be screwing all women now? No. I’m still queer.” His lip quirks at the edge, that sexy as fuck smirk that fluttered nerves through my belly.

Now I’m as confused as ever.

A queer wanted to fuck me.

But then…

He brushed my hair from my eyes with light fingertips. “I wish I had better answers for you, so I don’t cause this cute frown right there.” He kissed between my eyes and rolled to the side, so his full weight wasn’t crushing me, but we stayed connected, his hand palmed my pooch belly and he rubbed me gently. “I want you, Sena. Hell, I probably shouldn’t even say it.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

His thumb continued caressing my forehead and so as not to get distracted by his touch, before I climbed all over him, I moved it aside. Noah moved onto his back, an arm under his neck, he turned his head on the pillow to face me. “I have no fucking answers, only feelings. You’re beautiful and smart and funny and you’re the person I can’t envision ever being without.”

My heart stumbled.

“I don’t want to say the word confused because that’ll just piss me off.” His scowl had me chuckling. Talking about his emotions is probably the worst kind of talk Noah could ever have. “I’m far from confused about my sexuality, Sena. Not about this. Not about you.” I wanted to ask what he was confused about since that’s the sense I was getting, but I don’t say a thing. My tongue happened to be glued to the roof of my mouth.

“I want this.” He kissed me softly.

“I want you.” Lips coaxed. I opened and let him in, he breathed, and I took his air.

And then we don’t talk. We’re too busy kissing, too preoccupied with my hand around his cock leading him to my entrance and then too busy moaning into his mouth as he shoved in on one hard push.

 

~*~*~

 

That’s how the next couple of weeks went.

When we weren’t working we were together. Mostly naked.

We were just Sena and Noah as we always had been. We watched football together, we went to two hockey games. I had several nights out at his clubs, we hung out with a movie. I helped him choose birthday gifts for his family.

It’s as though we’ve placed ourselves in this weird stasis where our relationship didn’t change much but it also changed a shit ton because sex became part of our day as much as breathing. And it was all consuming can’t-rip-his-clothes-off-fast-enough kind of sex. It’s quick and furious going at each other hard. His place, my place. The elevator. The club office. The stairwell of our building. We took risks having sex in places we shouldn’t.

But we never actually addressed what we were doing again.

He wanted me. That’s as much as I know.

And when I begin to worry about it, there’s always Noah to distract me.

His lips moved over my neck from behind, his hands pushed under my shirt to palm my boobs and I’m no longer thinking about anything.

Worries replaced with a sexual longing that just never quit.

Not when Noah is pushing inside me.

It is bliss and it is heaven, and it’s the kind of happiness I’ve always wanted.