Chapter Sixteen
Gayle had experienced plenty of hangovers in her life. More than she cared to admit, most days. She considered herself pretty well expert in the tricks to avoid them, short of not drinking at all. Plenty of water, sleeping past the point her body had simply passed out, a solid breakfast the next day to soak up the residual booze in her system. But really, knocking back an entire bottle of way-overpriced bourbon in one sitting, then getting her brains bonked out by the hot and studly kid lying next to her? That did demand the sort of head-clanging agony she woke with the next morning.
The room was so bright when she did open her eyes it felt like there were lights shining right down on her, making her sweaty under their unwavering glare. She tried to roll over and tug the sheet up, to escape into a bit of sleep, to perhaps ease past the worst of it. But when her nose mashed up against Noah’s broad back, a rush of nausea forced her out of bed and toward the porcelain god. After a few minutes spent in gut-heaving worship, she brushed her teeth and drank about a gallon of water straight from the bathroom tap.
Way to christen the new place, Gayle. Truly classy.
When she met her own eyes in the massive mirror over the sink, she couldn’t help but notice the way her lips seemed swollen. Smiling at the somewhat hazy memory, she turned her head and frowned at the line of tiny hickeys down her neck. When her arm grazed her left breast, she flinched and gave a squawk of pain. Glancing down, she noticed both her smallish nipples were also swollen-looking, redder than usual, and sore when she touched them.
And it wasn’t the only place she was sore. She shifted from foot to foot, recognizing the oh-so-pleasant pain centered between her legs. She decided a hot shower was in order, and spent a solid half hour there, using shampoo, soap and hot water to try and revive herself. But as always, it only resulted in transforming her into a much cleaner, but still woefully hung-over human.
As she dried off, a noise from the bedroom made her peek around the corner, embarrassed as she accepted the hard fact she’d acted like a total slut last night, at least when she hadn’t been sobbing her stupid head off. Noah had rolled onto his back and had his arm over his eyes. The million-thread-count sheets she must have paid for at some point during the condo outfitting frenzy had slipped to his upper thighs. In an instant, the embarrassment faded, leaving behind a white-hot flush of horniness.
Taking a minute to appreciate the masculine work of art spread out on one side of her new bed, she couldn’t help but smile at her luck.
Dude’s an ex-stripper? Bonus points for me.
As if sensing her eager gaze, his long, elegant dick stirred and hardened as she watched, causing a corresponding sensation between her own legs. With the sound of her rapidly increasing breath in her ears, she touched herself, her fingertip finding the eager bud of her clit in seconds. She touched her sore nipple, then pinched it, making her knees weak and a small sound escape her throat.
God, but he’d been hot last night. Gyrating around her living room loft, picking her up, kissing her then shedding his clothes bit by bit, like the pro he apparently was—it’d almost made her come in her jeans. Of course, the whole thing had given her a short pause, one that would likely have called a halt to the whole thing had she been sober. Her Noah—the young man who’d been so sweet, helpful, polite, gentlemanly and, of course, painfully handsome when he’d been paying a sort of old-fashioned court to her the past few weeks—he was this…this sex god, used to cavorting around on stages for money?
Even as her mind made this journey, her finger moved faster and her breathing got faster. His dick—truly a work of art and longer than she’d personally ever seen or experienced—was rigid now. A small bead of liquid appeared at the tip. She grinned wider and spread her legs, needing a quick release so she could dive in there and provide him with the same. She closed her eyes and let it happen, a tiny squeak of pleasure accompanying her skin’s heat and the small rush of fluid coating her upper thighs.
When she opened her eyes, Noah was up on his elbows, his eyes gleaming, his cock still ramrod hard. She licked her lips and stood straighter.
“Gosh, lady, you sure are hot,” he said, his voice low, his fake-naïve words making her smile. “I love a woman who knows how to pleasure herself.” He crooked a finger at her. “But you know what I love more?”
She made her way over to him, sitting and taking the heat of him in her hand. As she stroked, he reached out to cup her breast, passing his thumb over her erect nipple. “What?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off the sculpted perfection of his torso. “Tell me what you love more, Noah.” She had a recollection of screaming his name the night before—screaming it a lot. But she adored the way it rolled off her tongue. She wanted to caress it, the way she was caressing his beautiful cock right now.
“I love it when a woman says my name when she comes.”
She smiled at him, her heart doing a strange sort of flip in her chest. His eyes—that amazing shade of golden brown—were open, honest, guileless, if she were to use a ten-dollar word for them. They were full of something she recognized and wasn’t sure she wanted to see—at least not yet. And yet her body urged her forward, the way it used to do before.
“Well,” she said, crawling up his body and dropping down to touch her tongue to the well-defined muscles of his abs, to his nipples, to his neck then to his lips. “I’m two for two then.” She licked his lower lip, then his upper one. He let her, staying propped on his elbows as they kissed. It was slower, easier, a more familiar thing this morning. His lips were something she knew now and understood. They explored each other, their mouths the only thing touching. His breathing was ragged when she pulled away and ran her hand down his chest, his stomach, stopping when she wiped the pre-cum from his dick and put her finger in her mouth.
He grinned, his tousled hair and somewhat sleepy expression making her do that weird heart-flip thing again. Cut it out, she admonished herself. This is nothing but a distraction, something I need, something he wants. Enjoy it and don’t read anything into it. Never mind the fact I spent the third anniversary of my husband’s and son’s deaths screwing around with this…this…amazing specimen.
“All right, Gayle, it’s time.” He rose fast and flipped her onto her back. She giggled, then sighed with satisfaction when he put what was no doubt another line of hickeys down the other side of her neck. The sun streamed into her new loft bedroom, which only added to the surreal sensation of Noah—her Noah—and his painfully pleasurable attention to every inch of her skin here, in the nest of expensive sheets in a bed she’d not seen before last night.
After making her writhe and moan and demand he touch her pussy while he’d been licking, sucking and tugging at her nipples, he stopped. She sighed, anticipating he’d move the mouth party southward, and bent one knee, letting the other fall to the side. But he sat, crouched back on his heels, a pensive expression on his face.
She was practically humming with need by now. Her ears were all white noise. Her skin flushed. Her body trembling and requiring more. But he didn’t move. Only sat, studying her with that borderline unhappy look on his face.
She went up on her elbows. “What’s wrong? I don’t do it for you anymore?”
He frowned and flopped onto his butt, crossing his legs as if ready for a chat, which made the fact of his rigid erection somehow ironic. He seemed miserable, which was beyond her, since they’d had a ton of fun the night before and were about to do more of the same. She sat, mirroring him, and lifted his chin so he had to look at her. “What is it?”
“I don’t think I can do this,” he said. She blinked and looked straight at his cock, which was more than capable, then back up at him. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Noah, you’re overthinking.” She reached for him, still eager and thrumming with urgency.
“No, I’m not. And besides, I need a rubber.”
She flinched, recalling how she’d begged him the night before, of how nicely he’d obliged her begging, coming so hard she’d felt the warmth of him spilling inside her. A small touch of anger lit the edges of her consciousness. Unwilling to ruin this, she shoved it down under a pile of lust. “I want you,” she said, simply. “You want me, I think. We’re consenting, single adults. What’s the problem?”
He ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know. I’m…you’re…it’s…I don’t want to be this boy toy thing for you, Gayle.” His eyes were so full of emotion she was able to suppress the giggle at the very term she’d been using in her head about him. “I want more from you. And I don’t know if you can give it to me.”
Unable to contradict this and unwilling to bullshit him, she reached out and stroked his stubbly cheek. He closed his eyes, grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. “Tell you what,” she said, moving closer, pleased when he didn’t seem to object. “Why don’t we take this one day at a time?” She took his hand and pulled him forward where she lay back, loving the heavy warmth of his body against hers. “It’s just our first time, you know? And you can rest assured I’m going to want to see you again.”
She was going to want a lot more, now that he’d woken her inner horn-dog. She smiled at him, moving her hips and wrapping her legs around his waist, loving how he groaned when his hard dick pressed against her pussy. She moved, finding the friction she wanted against her clit as he stared down at her, his eyes still clouded with doubt.
“I don’t know…” he said.
“I do. And I think this will be nice, for both of us. If you’ll let it be, I mean.”
“You don’t know me, Gayle.” She moved faster, thrusting against the head of his cock. His eyes shone. “I need more. I’m going to ask more from you.”
“Noah,” she yelped. “Oh God, baby, please.”
He made a small movement with his hips, going so deep it made her gasp, while keeping his pubic bone pressed to her eager clit. “Come on me, Gayle,” he said, his voice low, growly and so sexy, she did, just like that, crying his name while her body clenched and released, her nerve endings dancing through another glorious climax.
“Jesus,” she sighed, looking up at him. He was still balls-deep inside her. His jaw was clenched, his face red. “You’re amazing,” she said, reaching back to grip the top of the headboard so she could lift her hips higher. “So fucking amazing.” To her surprise, tears burned her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. He leaned down and licked them away, stopping at her lips so she could taste the salt.
His hips began to move, slowly, rolling, like the dance moves he’d treated her to the night before. The primal sensation of his cock pulling out and thrusting back into her body brought her straight back to the edge. He looked down at where their bodies were joined, then back into her eyes. “You’re amazing,” he said, his voice clear now, but still in the lower, lusty octave. “I thought that the minute I saw you the first time. I’ve been wanting to do this,” he said, giving his first hard thrust, shift her up on the pillows. “And this,” he growled, doing it again, making her groan with pleasure. “And this.” He sat up on his knees and grabbed on to her hips, digging his fingertips in deep. If it were possible to feel him even deeper, she did, and while it had a painful edge to it, the raw joy of the moment negated it. “Oh God, Gayle…” He groaned and thrust again, again, going faster and still faster.
She bent one leg, noting how his thrusts took on a serious rhythm at the slight change of angle. He let go of her hips and fell forward, his body pounding into hers fast, hard, and needy. She wrapped her arms around his neck and put her lips to his ear. “Come, Noah. Fill me up, baby. I want it. I want it now.”
He groaned so loud she felt it in her chest as he did what she said, filling her, her body reacting by treating her to another small release. They clung to each other for several minutes after their hips had stopped moving. “Kiss me,” he said. She leaned away from his neck and slanted her lips over his, realizing and accepting at that moment she was a goner. That she’d give this amazing man anything he wanted…as long as he didn’t demand her heart. Not because she didn’t want to, but because it was simply no longer hers to give. It had turned to dust. Dust she’d tossed over the balcony of her empty house overlooking the Pacific Ocean.