Chapter Thirteen
Noah kept his phone handy as he walked into his apartment. It wouldn’t take Paige long to get to her friend’s place since it was only a few blocks away, but he wanted to know that she was home and safe, anyway. He told himself it was because as Paige’s temporary boss he felt some responsibility to keep an eye out for her. Hell, he might even be able to claim that it was a residual overprotectiveness from looking after three younger sisters.
But that was total bullshit.
Part of him hoped Paige would come knocking on his door. And for once, it wasn’t a southern part of him. Whenever he was with Paige, time seemed to speed up. The minutes would fly by unnoticed, because he was too busy enjoying her company. Too busy trying to figure out this sexy, stubborn perfectionist. Their time together always seemed to be over too soon. Like someone had ripped away the minutes, leaving him dissatisfied and craving more.
It unsettled him.
But if there was one thing he’d learned about Paige so far, it was that she stuck to her guns. And the fact was, she wanted the one thing he couldn’t give her: a promise.
Maybe that made him stubborn, too. Because he was sure a lot of guys would say anything to get what they wanted. But Noah wasn’t like that. He might have been with a lot of women, but he never lied to get a girl into bed. Never promised anything more than what he was capable of—a hot night between the sheets. That’s it.
He turned the phone over in his hands as he paced the length of his living room. It would be so much easier to find a girl who asked for nothing. He could even handle a girl who wanted some non-sex time—hanging out, watching movies, and grabbing a drink. But Paige’s demands scared the hell out of him. They reeked of potential failure and disappointment.
Of future rejection.
It was the reason that he hardly ever brought girls home—opting for their place, instead. It allowed him to escape when needed, and it preserved the sanctity of his apartment. His place. The one home he couldn’t be kicked out of. But he hadn’t even thought twice about bringing Paige here—about inviting her in for a drink—because he never had the urge to escape when he was with her.
His phone buzzed in his hand, and her name lit up the screen.
I’m still downstairs.
Noah walked to the window that overlooked the street. A shadowy figure paced back and forth in front of the door, mimicking his movements from moments ago.
Have you forgotten how to get home?
It took everything he had not to go down there and claim her. Not to drag her into his home and throw her down on the couch so he could act out all his fantasies with her.
I’ve forgotten why I said no to that drink.
Shit. The figure on the street looked up, and a passing car lit her face for a few seconds. Her fingers fluttered at her throat, and when her eyes snagged on his window, she held up her hand in a shy wave.
What’s your poison? I’ll buzz you in.
I think you’re my poison.
Because he was about to lure her into making a bad decision? Guilt zipped through him. Perhaps a better man would have had the willpower to send her away. And while Noah might not be a liar, he wasn’t exactly a saint.
He texted her the number for his apartment and stalked to the intercom. As soon as it buzzed, he hit the entry button and unlocked his front door. Grabbing two glasses from his kitchen cupboard, he selected a bottle of bitter orange vodka. Libby had given it to him—one of her “failed” infusion blends that never made it into the regular rotation. But he’d loved the strong, in-your-face taste.
As he poured the drinks—mixing in some fresh orange juice and honey for a hint of sweetness—his heart hammered. Ever since Paige had started at First, he’d been thinking about getting her here. Getting her naked. But this felt like so much more. Pressure weighed on his shoulders.
Fuck, he wanted to…impress her.
You need to get your head in the game. This isn’t a first date. It’s a drink. It might be sex. But it’s not more because there is nothing more.
There was a soft knock at his front door, and he carried the drinks to the coffee table, calling for her to come in. She closed the door behind her and hung back, almost pressing herself against the wall. “Nice place.”
“It’s home.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and waited to see if she’d move. After a few seconds it was clear he’d need to take charge. “You look terrified.”
She laughed, the sound a little breathier than usual. “I’m okay.”
“I made you a drink.” He handed her a glass and inclined his head. “Come sit.”
She perched herself on the edge of his couch, cradling the tumbler in her hands. He wanted to ask her what she’d meant by calling him her poison, but he resisted. Their chemistry was undeniable, but she’d been clear she wouldn’t indulge, and now she was putting herself on the line. Risking herself.
Before anything else happened, he needed to hear her say that she was ready to lose their bet.
…
What if…? What if…? What if…?
The unformed questions pounded in time with Paige’s heartbeat, rushing through her with the unrelenting drone of train wheels over tracks. Noah’s imposing frame took up most of his couch, crowding her into the corner. But she didn’t shrink.
“What made you change your mind?” His question had a slight edge to it. It warned her to watch her step, to think carefully about her next move.
But she was done with thinking and watching and warnings. She was done with being a good girl who always missed out because she was too busy following the damn rules to notice that the game had changed. And she was most certainly done with denying her attraction to Noah.
“I was thirsty.” She brushed a strand of loose hair from her temple and tried not to quiver under his white-hot gaze.
Seriously, the man could melt icebergs with that stare.
“How is it?”
She sipped the orange concoction. “Delicious.”
Truthfully, she tasted nothing. When Noah was in the vicinity, none of her five senses cared one iota about anything except him. She shifted on the spot, noticing the way his eyes followed her every movement. He seemed to close in on her, like a hunter cornering a deer. She was his prey, and the very knowledge of it made the glass shake in her hands.
How was it possible that he could render her so aroused that she lost control of basic motor function? That was new.
Maybe it’s because you’ve always played it safe. Played it boring. And Noah is neither of those things.
Damn right. The man was human dynamite.
“I’m glad you like it.” He took a long swallow, downing half of his drink in one go. “It’s not too sweet, but I thought you might enjoy a change of pace.”
His presence suffocated her words. Never had she thought that feeling would be a positive one, but it was. The confinement left her almost panting with need. And yet he hadn’t even touched her. She’d let this go on too long, let the buildup become too much.
Desire throbbed between her legs, the quiet ache growing into something unwieldy and foreign. Something desperate. She wanted him. They were close enough that she could have brushed her lips over his, but she didn’t. She was going to tease him for now, like he’d been doing to her from the moment she’d walked through First’s doors.
“I’m surprised you didn’t get revenge after the ice cream incident,” she said.
His lip quirked. “I prefer to exact revenge when my opponent least expects it.”
“Am I your opponent?” she asked.
The room was silent, save for the thrum of blood through her veins. She could practically hear it sending excitement through her body—adrenaline causing everything to flutter. Her heart. Her breath. Her sex.
“We are on opposite sides of a bet…for now.” The invitation in his voice was unmistakable.
“That’s true.” She drained the rest of her glass, hoping that Dutch courage would work quickly and effectively. Warmth from the vodka sat comfortably in the back of her throat, and she willed that feeling to spread. Leaning forward to put her glass on the coffee table, she stretched farther than required so that her ass thrust ever so slightly in his direction. He would be able to see the denim of her skirt stretching across her butt. Would he imagine what it was like to grab her hips in that position?
She thought she heard a strangled groan, but it was hard to tell. Goose bumps rippled down her arms and legs. Sex had always been something that she enjoyed as part of a loving relationship, a way to show that she cared for her partner. But it had never thrilled her like this. It had never tangled her up so bad that she couldn’t tell up from down or left from right. And they hadn’t even shared more than a kiss till now.
Till now.
“Why are you really here, Paige?”
She sat back down, the words sticking in her throat at the sight of the fire and smoke in his eyes. “To have a drink.”
His gaze flickered to her empty glass. “And now?”
Of course he was too smart to fall for that flimsy pretense. Everybody knew what the offer of a drink really meant. Like Netflix and chilling wasn’t really about the latest season of Orange Is the New Black…
“My thirst has been quenched,” she replied.
“Was it what you wanted?” he asked.
Her heart pounded. “I think so.”
“Be sure.” He finished his drink and placed his glass next to hers.
The twin empty tumblers stared back at her, like a visual reminder that she was entering the point of no return. Her breath hitched as he slid his hand along the back of the couch. He didn’t touch her, didn’t need to. He could have her body sparking like New Year’s Eve fireworks by sitting next to her.
“I don’t know if I’m sure,” she whispered. “I don’t know why I’m here.”
He leaned closer, trapping her between his hard body and the arm of the couch. “You’re here because you want to lose the bet.”
“I don’t lose.” Her gritted teeth almost held the words in, but the lie still slipped out. She was about to lose…or about to win, depending on how you looked at it.
It’s okay to mess up this one time. Then you can go back to doing things the right way.
“You don’t compromise. You don’t lose…” His gravelly voice mocked her. “Such a rigid life you lead, Paige Thomas.”
“It’s done me well so far.” She squared her shoulders, but all that did was cause her breasts to brush against the hard wall of his chest. She swallowed.
“Has it?” His hands splayed out across her hips as he pushed her against the back of the couch, his body leaning over hers.
The dull ache turned to a forceful roar inside her. She longed to ease the throbbing between her legs. To feel the denim of his jeans rasp against her thigh.
“Or have you been missing out on some important life experiences?” His lips brushed over the shell of her ear, his tongue darting out to capture her lobe. When he sucked on her sensitive skin, she clamped her eyes shut so tightly, white light seemed to explode behind her shuttered lids.
“Like screwing my boss?” she said. Her voice didn’t sound like her own; it was hoarse, needy. Desperate.
“We don’t have to jump straight to screwing, Paige. There’s a whole lot more fun to be had before that.” His hands slid down her thighs, catching the hem of her skirt and pushing it up. “I know you don’t think we’ll work together, but I’m happy to prove you wrong.”
“I never said that.” Her voice was small, trembling. “I said we want different things, and I’m not willing to compromise my values.”
“Same difference.” His hand brushed her upper thigh, and she almost yelped in anticipation.
Her experience with foreplay was limited to her ex’s half-hearted attempt at getting her off with his mouth. But she had the feeling that Noah would be able to do more with his little finger than any of her ex-boyfriends had been able to do with their whole bodies.
Yeah, because he’s had a lot of practice. He dazzles women but he doesn’t stick around…
The thought bounced in her head like a Ping-Pong ball, making her question everything. Casual sex was supposed to be bad—it broke hearts, got people tied to unhappy relationships. Destroyed dreams.
Casual sex had no safety net.
“Noah.” She curled her hands over his shoulders, the protest ready on the tip of her tongue. But no matter how hard her brain tried, her lips would not force the word out.
“Shhh.” He brushed his lips along her jaw, one hand skating up over her rib cage to palm her breast. Sparks of desire shot through her, and she melted under his touch. “Let me make you feel good.”
The fight left her body as he rolled a hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Okay,” she breathed.
Victory danced in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he slid down her body, his lips blazing a trail over her neck and collarbone. He nipped, kissed, and licked the curve at the skin exposed by the vee of her T-shirt. He shoved the fabric up and snapped the front closure of her bra, exposing her to his mouth. A pleasant hum vibrated against her skin.
“Please,” she begged, arching her back. Her focus had narrowed to a tiny slit. She would expire if she didn’t have his lips on the sensitive peaks of her breasts right bloody now.
“Tell me what you want, Paige.”
God, no. Normally sex was a fumble in the dark, pleasurable but silent. Not this. Not where she was open and visible and vulnerable. Her fingers threaded into his thick golden hair. The strands were soft against her palms, soft yet sturdy. Like him. She pushed his head lower—showing, rather than telling him what she wanted.
A rough chuckle vibrated against her chest. “That’s one way of doing it.”
She was about shrink away from him, embarrassed. But then he gave her what she wanted. He wrapped those full lips around her nipple and sucked. Hard.
“God, Noah!” Her head fell back, and her body turned molten beneath his touch.
He tugged at her with his teeth. Lavished attention on her in a way that was new and exciting and terrifying in how quickly it stripped her down to her bones. She wanted more. Once he finished with one side, he turned to the other, and she had to brace her hands behind her. All the while her hips rolled in a sexy grind simulating the rhythm of his mouth.
“You taste so good,” he murmured, his face buried in her breasts. “I want to taste the rest of you.”
“Yes.” The word was out before she even had time to consider what he was asking. Or telling.
Noah didn’t really ask for anything.
He pulled off her top, bra, and skirt until his lips landed at the ticklish spot on the inside of her knee. She was rewarded with a grin when she squirmed, a giggle escaping her lips. Instead of going straight in for the kill, he traced circles with his forefinger. The maddening movement held her between arousal and discomfort—making her want to arch into his touch and pull away at the same time.
“Are you ticklish on both sides?” He moved to her other leg and laughed at her shriek. “What about here?”
He pulled her legs over his shoulders and tested the backs of her knees. Paige hummed at the touch, which didn’t seem sexual and yet was an entirely new level of intimacy. She watched as he explored her, enraptured. Never before had a man seemed so engrossed in her body.
His fingertip found the scar on her upper thigh. It was faded now, silvery white instead of red. “How did you get this?”
“Barbed-wire fence. I was playing with my brother at a friend’s farm and I got too close, tore up my dress, and bled all over their kitchen.” She laughed. “My mother was not impressed.”
He pressed his lips to the scar. “Sounds like you were an adventurous kid.”
“I was.”
But what about now?
Everything now was so ordered, so by-the-book. So…dull. Except for tonight.
“I love how your freckles go all the way up.” He followed them with his lips, kissing the biggest clusters and chasing his mouth with his hands.
The higher he got, the tighter her body wound. Her sex clenched as he brushed the very top of her inner thigh, anticipation turning her to a statue as the air stilled in her lungs. This was it, her last chance to back out before it went from being an ill-advised fumble to something else.
He pressed his lips to the thin cotton of her underwear. A shudder rippled through her, and she curled her hands around the edge of the couch cushions.
“I can already feel how excited you are,” he said. His voice had taken on that husky quality again, that rough and jagged sound that made her pulse jump. “You’re so wet.”
Her eyes closed, and she tried to banish the fear edging into her consciousness. “That’s because you excite me.”
He growled then. Literally growled like a beast. “Fuck, Paige. If you want to back out you need to go now, because once I get this underwear off I’m not going to stop until you’re shaking on my tongue.”
Screw running away. Screw fear. And screw their stupid bet.
She leaned forward and grabbed Noah’s face in her hands, crushing her mouth down to his. His tongue greeted her ferociously, easily matching her hot-blooded need. He tasted earthy and male, a hint of orange making her instantly want more.
“So we’re clear,” she said, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “This is the one and only time I’m going to lose a bet.”
Noah chuckled. “Doesn’t feel like either one of us is losing a damn thing.”
“Get to it then.”
His wicked smile soothed any remaining fears about whether she could trust him with her body. Noah might not be the man of her white-picket-fence dreams, but she knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. Not physically, anyway.
Just so long as you don’t let your heart get involved…
The light caught on the golden lengths of his hair as he nuzzled her inner thigh. She hummed her appreciation as he took his sweet time kissing and caressing her, working his way toward the part of her that craved him most. Her legs fell open, giving unfettered access.
“Be gentle, okay?” she said, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as he drew her underwear down. She shifted, lifting her hips.
“I’ll only be doing things that make you feel good.” As if to prove his point, he brushed his lips over her sex, and she gasped, her hips bucking toward him. “Tell me to stop if it doesn’t feel good, okay?”
“Okay.”
He flashed her a cocky smile. “I don’t anticipate any complaints.”
The cool air caressed her heated sex, excitement vibrating in their air around her. He lowered his head and brought his hands to her, his thumb pressing against her slick folds and rubbing against her clit. A cry lodged itself in her throat.
No, she didn’t anticipate any complaints, either.
When he parted her, his tongue coming in to brush tentatively against her sensitive skin, she let her head roll back. Noah must have taken it as a sign of encouragement, because the gentle, tentative first stroke was worlds away from what he had planned next. He feasted on her, laving her and drawing her clit between his lips and sucking until it felt like all the blood in her body had rushed to that exact spot. She was weightless. Dizzy. Sublimely trapped in his net.
“Holy shit.” Her hips rocked against his mouth, one hand finding its way to his head so she could steady herself.
Within seconds the telltale signs of orgasm appeared—the clench of her inner walls, the tremble in her thighs. The pinpoint of euphoria in her mind that sucked all her focus onto one thing and one thing only.
His lips on her sex.
“I’m so close,” she gasped. It’d only been seconds, but he knew exactly what buttons to press.
He growled against her, the vibrations spiraling through her body and fracturing at the last second. She shouted his name, uncaring if anyone on the street outside could hear them. All that mattered was the wave of release that was an avalanche on top of her. Burying her. Changing her forever.