11
Birthday Snow Day
~Claire~
Chelsea never came back to school after Thanksgiving break. I guess spending a weekend with her family couldn’t hide the fact that she has morning sickness. That or she told her family about her pregnancy.
The rumors about her pregnancy started on the second day she didn’t show up. Nikki was the first to blab, telling everyone James, the gay quarterback—though she didn’t say gay, and I think only me and Chelsea know about that—knocked her up. I wonder if Nikki will ever find out it was her own “boyfriend” who did. Either way, she must be some friend to go behind Chelsea’s back that way.
Now Noah and I are old news. No one pays attention to us anymore. There are no more snide comments from Chelsea, no more leering from boys who think I put out now, no more girls coming on to Noah. Everything is peaceful and quiet; the way I imagine school should be.
Today is my eighteenth birthday, though I still don’t think he knows. I never told him.
Noah spent most of the day with his family while Dad took me out to an early dinner and gave me a white-gold necklace with a music note pendant. It is simple, sweet, and pretty. I love it, and I loved spending the time with my dad.
On the drive home, I texted Noah to let him know we were on our way, so when we got back around four, he was already waiting beside his aunt’s truck. It was a cold day, so it was normal for Noah not to drive his motorcycle. He was taking his aunt’s truck more and more lately.
As soon as I see him, I turn toward my dad, who is still pulling up in the driveway. “Don’t tell Noah it’s my birthday.”
Dad frowns at me. “Why not?”
I shrug. “I feel weird about telling him. I don’t want to make him feel bad for not knowing or feel like he should get me something when it’s my fault.”
Dad puts the car in park, mumbling, “I won’t say anything.”
I open the car door. “Thanks, Dad.”
Noah meets me halfway. He’s dressed in his normal jeans, boots, and jacket, but he has on a button-up shirt over his T-shirt. A beanie sits on his head and over his ears, hiding all that luscious dark hair of his. His eyes look darker with the black beanie pulled down to his brows, making him look almost predatory. I can see how much his soft freckles have disappeared with the coming winter.
I’m dressed in a sweater dress, with a long coat over it. My boots, with their heels giving me extra height, are still not tall enough to accommodate Noah’s height. I have to stretch up on my toes to throw my arms around his neck.
He picks me up to squeeze me tighter, and I snuggle into his neck. Then Noah puts me down and gives me a huge smile, something mischievous in his eyes. I know that look. He’s up to something.
Last time he had that look in his eyes, I had just accidently knocked his water bottle over into his lap. It looked like he wet himself, and I couldn’t stop laughing at the look on his face. I tried so hard to stop while running toward the kitchen to get him a towel. The look on his face when I got back to the table was the same he is giving me now, before he took what was left of his bottle and mine, and proceeded to chase me around the house, attempting to pour the bottles onto my pants. Unfortunately, he won, having longer legs than me. He caught me in the living room where he tackled me to the ground and not only poured the water on my pants, but all over me. Two perfectly good waters wasted on drenching my front from head to toe. I didn’t mind. I still couldn’t stop laughing. But that is why I am worried now.
He looks me from head to toe, and then fingers the new necklace Dad gave me. “Pretty.” There is that look in his eyes again.
“Thank you.”
Before I can say anything else, he tells me, “You need to change. Something warm. I want to take you somewhere.”
I study him for a minute. That look in his eyes … “ ’Kay. Give me five minutes.”
I change into a pair of jeans, leaving my knee-high socks on underneath, and a warm sweater before putting my boots and long coat back on. I check my reflection and refresh my lip gloss before grabbing a thick scarf on my way out of my room. I make it into Dad’s office as Noah starts thanking my dad for something.
“Thanks for dinner, Daddy. I’ll see you later.” I walk over to give him a kiss.
“Love you, Claire.” Dad hugs me tightly, whispering in my ear, “Happy birthday, baby girl.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” I hug him tighter before letting go to meet Noah at the doorway.
“Ready?” he asks, and I nod. Then Noah says to my dad, “Have a good night, Jonathan. We won’t be out too late.”
Dad waves him off. “Just be careful. That’s all I ask.”
“ ’Course.” Noah grabs my hand and leads me out to his aunt’s truck where he opens the door for me before getting in on his side.
“Where are we going?” I ask as Noah puts the truck in drive and winds his way down the driveway.
“It’s a surprise. In fact”—he lifts his bottom and pulls out a bandana from his back pocket, handing it to me—“I want you to wear this until I say you can take it off.”
I look down at the bandana in my hand then to him. “Are you kidding me?” I laugh. I knew he was up to something.
Noah has that mischievous look in his eyes again, with that cocky grin on his lips.
~Noah~
Claire looks petulant before donning the bandana over her eyes.
I grin, though she can’t see it. She thinks she is pulling a fast one on me, but I have known for a month now that it’s Claire’s birthday. Truth be told, I ran into Jonathan when he was buying the music note necklace she is wearing now. Well, he was trying to buy her some gaudy pearls when I ran into him and asked him if he had a date or something.
“No, Claire’s birthday is next month. I’m trying to find something nice to buy her, but the older she gets, the harder it is to shop for her. It feels like I went from buying her a Barbie house to jewelry from one year to the next.” He shook his head, still staring down at the pearl display case.
“When’s her birthday?” I asked, moving down the cases, looking for something more Claire, more simple.
“December fifteenth,” he answered absentmindedly.
I paused, seeing the perfect gift for her. Then I pointed down to the small necklace I knew Claire would wear every day. “You should get her this one.”
Jonathan came to my side and peered down to where my finger was pointing. “That’s perfect.”
And it is. I’m glad I was a part of picking something out for her that she can keep forever. Now, the harder part was finding something to give her from me.
I searched every girly place I could think of, bringing Abby with me to get a girl’s input. I found some things that were fine for Christmas, but not her birthday. For her birthday, I wanted something memorable. It needed to be extra special, not the dress—yes, I shopped in a girls’ clothing store—or the crystal thingy that Abby thought was so pretty, or the compilation of opera scores I printed out onto old parchment and had bound together for her. Those were Christmas presents. I needed something … something that was me. The predator in me needed to mark my territory.
So, to go with the gift her dad had already picked out for her, I went online and bought a white-gold guitar pick pendant with her birth month and day engraved on one side, but this year is marked. I figured it would look good under the music note.
However, I wasn’t satisfied with that. I wanted to do something memorable, too. I wanted this day to be all about us. And that’s where we are heading to now.
I drive off the main roads and onto a gravel path. Uncle Mark told me about this place. He used to take Aunt Katy here before Abby was born. He said it was the most isolated place in the area and is great for stargazing. There is even a fire pit he made years ago.
I came here earlier in the day, after calling Claire and making plans to meet her. I really wanted to know how long I would have to prepare everything before picking her up. I didn’t want to show up at her house with a truck laden with everything we need. I didn’t want to give her any clue as to what I was up to.
I pull to a stop and shut off the truck. I can see Claire tilting her head, trying to peek from underneath the blindfold.
“Where are we?” Her voice breaks the silence of the cab. There are no other noises inside or out of the truck. Everything is almost eerily quiet. All the animals are hibernating and all the birds have flown south. “Can I take this off now?”
I don’t answer her. I get out of the cab, watching to make sure she doesn’t pull the blindfold off, and open her door. I unbuckle her seatbelt, and then guide her out of the truck. But before her feet touch the ground, I scoop her up into my arms, making her gasp in surprise and wrap her arms around my neck.
I place her on a log and tell her, “Don’t move. Don’t take off the blindfold yet. Promise?”
She nods, wrapping her arms around herself.
It’s cold as hell out here, and I need to start the fire fast. Everything else is already set up; I just need to add flame to the tinder.
Once that is done and the fire starts crackling, I place the metal screen cover over the flames. I notice Claire’s head tilting again, listening to all the sounds around her. She now reaches out tentatively toward the warmth.
I make enough noise so she knows I’m walking toward her before pulling her up gently from her seat, leading her toward the tent I have already set up. Inside is a mountain of pillows and blankets that would make a sheik proud. I want her to be as comfortable as possible tonight.
I sit down on the ground and pull her down with me before pressing her back to lie down, me on top of her. I kiss her deeply, breathing her in, as I remove the necklace. Sitting up, I then place the pendant on her necklace and watch as it slides down the chain and falls behind the music note. Then I take the blindfold off Claire, and she blinks up at me, adjusting her eyes to the brighter light. It’s almost dusk now, fall seasoning into winter, making the days shorter.
I smile down at her. “Happy birthday, Claire.”
She gasps. “You knew? How?” She finally looks down at the necklace, and I watch as she clasps the new addition, reading the date on the back.
“Your dad. I’ve known for a month now.” I connect the necklace back around her neck.
“Thank you,” she says as she looks down to where the necklace has settled. “I love it.” She looks around. “Are we going camping?”
I shrug. It wasn’t really the plan, but if it happens, it happens. “We could. It’s a little too cold, though. I was planning on stargazing in the middle of nowhere. I wanted to spend somewhere quiet with you, where there is no one around.”
Claire smiles at me, but says nothing. Then, she gasps out, “It’s snowing,”
I fall onto my back beside her, looking up through the sheer cover on the top of the tent. Well, guess there went stargazing. I should have checked the weather forecast before I planned all this. Although, watching the snow fall around us is almost like watching a meteor shower.
I remember seeing one once when I was in Africa with my parents—you don’t see meteor showers in the city. I was only eight and totally captivated by the falling stars. The village children were scared, but I wanted to seek out a fallen meteorite. I was too scared to go in the jungle by myself, but it didn’t stop me from trying to coax the other children to come with me. It didn’t work. There was a language barrier. So, my attempts at being a future meteorite hunter were smashed, like the meteors when they fell to earth.
~Claire~
Noah looks lost in thought as we lie here, staring up at the falling snow. It’s snowing heavily, and knowing these parts, we will have an inch on the ground within an hour.
I roll into Noah’s side and snuggle my face into the crook of his neck, draping my arm over his chest. “This is a perfect birthday. I’ll always remember it. Thank you.”
Noah turns his head, and we gaze at each other for a while before he whispers, “Same here.”
I lift my head, and we meet halfway, kissing. I haven’t kissed anyone else, but I must say that Noah is a very fine kisser.
I pull him closer, and he turns so we are both lying on our sides. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer and closer, never close enough. Noah runs his hand down my side inside my coat, and that’s when I realize the coat is in the way. That’s why I feel like I’m not close enough.
I sit up abruptly and pull my coat off, deciding to take my boots off, too, since we have all these nice snuggly blankets around us. With that done, I sit astride Noah’s lap, and he sits up, meeting me with his mouth.
His hands are at my waist as I strip him of his jacket, needing to feel him. He lets me, and then returns his hands to my waist, gripping so tightly. His grip makes me brave, letting me know he feels this overwhelming need. I need the pleasure that I have only shared with Noah; that I only want with Noah. And I need it now.
I run my hands underneath his two shirts, feeling the warm, soft skin of his back. Noah groans in my mouth at the contact, then breaks his mouth from mine to run it up my jaw to my ear to my neck. His movements are slow yet stuttered, like he wants to move faster, harder but is trying to control himself.
His ministrations make me drop my head back, looking up at the snow collecting on top of the tent. Somewhere in the back of my head, I hope that the snow doesn’t find a way to drip inside and ruin the warmth of the blankets. I hope the snow instead creates an igloo around us, trapping in all the heat and giving us a cozy place to just exist.
Noah licks a trail up my throat, sending delicious shivers up my spine. I grip him tighter, pulling his chest into mine, grinding down on him and trying to recreate the friction that caused that explosive orgasm he gave me months ago. I want his hands on me. I want him to touch me … finally. Why he hasn’t, I don’t know. It’s beyond frustrating. It makes me feel inadequate, like I’m not good enough.
With that thought, I slowly slide my fingers from his back to his front, nervous to what I’m doing, uncharted waters. I move from the top of his chest, feeling his hardened nipples. I stop there, sliding back and forth across them. Then I press back against his chest, forcing Noah to lie back.
“Claire.” Noah says my name reverently. He has that predatory look in his now black eyes.
“Can I take your shirt off?”
Noah doesn’t answer me; he grabs the hems of both shirts and pulls them over his head before discarding them to the side. I take the opportunity to touch every inch of his bare chest, running my hands over his tattoo, massaging the tendons where his neck meets his shoulders, tentatively skating the tips of my fingers at the rim of his pants, which makes him take in deep breaths. Noah lets me explore every inch of him, his breath escalating until I have my fill.
When I lower my head, wanting to kiss every inch exposed, he stops me.
“Uh-uh.”
I give him an almost pouty look, but rejection is swift to cross my features. Before I have time to dwell on it, though, he wraps his arms around my back and rotates us so that I’m now lying down and he is straddling me. It makes my breath escape with a gasp, and then I feel breathless at this new position.
“Do you trust me?” he asks. I can see the fierce determination in his eyes. I can see his arousal. I can also see hesitation and trepidation. He’s worried about pushing me too far, rushing. I remember what he said before. “I get so caught up in you that I quickly lose control. I don’t want to do that with you.” I guess that hasn’t changed for him, but my hormones are telling me to plunge, even though my brain says it’s too soon.
I have only known Noah for two months now, but it feels like forever. Looking back on forever, there are so many moments between us: sharing almost every meal together, spending hours sitting comfortably together, movies, Jeremy’s, conversations with my dad and his family, dates, motorcycle rides, walks, kisses, waking up together, the fight with Troy, and now this. So many memories in such a short time. Memories that have lasted a forever of time, yet only two months.
So, yes, even though it’s only been two months, there has never been a time when he has shown me I couldn’t trust him. Not one time has he said or done anything that would scare me or make me fear him. He has only protected and cared for me. I trust him with my whole heart. I trust him not to use me and leave me when it’s all done. I trust him.
“Of course,” I promise.
~Noah~
Her “of course” sears through me. The level of trust she has in me is astounding, because I barely trust myself. But, for her, I will be worthy. I don’t want her goodness, her tenderness, her soft touches, or her attention to go away. I would do anything to keep them with me. She gives me more than anyone in my life has ever given me. Herself.
I can’t smile now, though I want to. This moment is too intense. So, I nod.
“Okay. Close your eyes.”
I watch as her eyes flutter shut, as she takes a deep breath and lets it out, as her head falls back and snuggles into a pillow, as her face tilts up toward the falling snow. She looks like she could be sleeping right now. A sleeping angel with her white, cashmere sweater that makes her face look like porcelain with that hint of rose to her cheeks, her eyelashes fanning down, her contrasting shock of deep brown hair and red lips. Flawlessness.
I want every moment she has with me to be something special, for her to feel savored and cared for. I start by slowly tracing my callused fingertips along the edge of her shirt where it meets the seam of her pants, just like she did to me. Her abdomen quivers at the touch, and I watch as goose bumps form over her skin. My fingers meet in the middle before moving back to her sides where they start to move upward, taking her sweater with me, exposing her tiny, soft belly.
I lean forward and leave whispers of kisses over the exposed skin, dipping my tongue into her belly button before sliding upward until I meet her bra. Then I lower back down, blowing a cool breath on her skin. She shifts underneath me.
I slide my hands up more, lifting her shirt above her bra. I have to swallow down my rising lust when I see her white lace bra, her pink nipples exposed through the thin, webbed material. Dear God, she’s killing me with this sexy underwear. Is this all she has? Or does she wear these things for me?
There is no helping myself; her breasts are right there for the taking, practically exposed to me. I go right in, lowering toward them as her nipples seem to tauten further the closer I get. I slide my hands down the side of her breast, curling them around her back and lifting her upper back as I lower my mouth over one nipple, sucking it into my mouth through the thin bra.
Claire gasps and arches even more into me, moaning as I nip the bud. Then I do it again, and she gasps my name, cupping the back of my head with both hands, holding me there. The action is causes her shirt to fall, so I take her hands and hold them over her head. When I know her hands are going to stay there, I find the clasp on the front of her bra and release it. The cups fall to the side, exposing her breasts.
I don’t know if I’m more of an ass or a breast man, but seeing Claire’s, I’m a breast man in this moment. There is just enough there to cup in my hand as I move to the neglected breast.
There is massaging, nipping, pinching, sucking for what feels like minutes but could be hours as Claire moans and writhes underneath me. Somehow, her legs have gotten loose from between mine, and she’s now straddling me as I kneel. Her shirt and bra are completely off, her arms are wrapped around my neck, and she’s grinding on my erection in such a delicious way.
Her breasts are abandoned as I make my way to her collarbone then up her neck, kissing, nipping, sucking on every inch of skin my mouth encounters. I tug her hair back so that her neck is arched. I want to take a picture of this moment. Her long hair sweeping the blankets, her eyes closed, her mouth parted on a moan, wearing only a pair of jeans. So sexy.
She slips her hands between us, and I feel her trying to undo my pants. That’s when everything’s gone too far.
~Claire~
Noah makes me feel so needy. I want to take this further with him. I want more than the kisses and simply touches. Though this is further than we have ever gone, I want more. I want everything. I want to see Noah unhinged. I want to be unhinged. I’m eighteen years old. We are where no one will bother us, in this ideal setting, with the snow piling on top of us and all around us, darkness now upon us, and I want Noah. All of him. I want him to be my first. Now, in this moment.
I move to unfasten his pants, and that’s when Noah puts a halt on our make-out session.
“Claire, no. Not yet.”
“Yes,” I whisper against his lips as we still move them together.
Noah grips each side of my head and disconnects our lips, staring me straight in the eyes as we try to catch our breaths.
“Not right now,” he says slowly, with determination, yet I can see the want in his eyes.
With my hands still around his neck, I lean back and bring him down with me. We resume our kissing as I press him to roll over until I am on top of him. He got to do what he wanted with me, and now it’s my turn.
Kissing my way down his neck and collarbone, I start to mimic the way he taunted my breasts, sucking and nipping on his hardened nipples. He sucks in air through his teeth, just like how he does when he sings sometimes. It’s the most erotic sound I have ever heard, making me clench with need.
I wander down his hard belly with one hand, following the trail of hair from his belly button down to parts I have never seen, gliding my fingers along the seam of his pants before I bravely move over them to where I know his manhood is. I’m curious what one feels like, looks like in person. I want to know what Noah’s is like.
As my hand meets the hardness in his pants, Noah quickly jerks up, making me tumble to my side. I lie there, looking up at a now angry Noah.
I didn’t want to upset him, not today. We have only argued a handful of times, and we always feel like crap for days afterward. I don’t want to get into an argument today, not on my birthday. Everything has been so perfect.
“Dammit, Claire. I said not right now!” He’s fuming, furious.
“When then?” I ask him in the same tone. I don’t mean to snap back, but this is new to me … and frustrating.
Then his face falls, anger gone. He looks defeated, torn. It’s so overwhelming how he can switch his emotions so quickly. He’s so capricious. And this is my doing—this anger to lost. I immediately deflate also.
Noah comes back down, lying gently against me as he tenderly plays with the tendrils of hair near my face. “I don’t know for how long you will want me—us. I don’t know what tomorrow brings or the next.” He pauses, not looking at me but the tendril of hair. “But I do know that, when I’m with you, I feel different—better. I feel alive and like anything is possible. I know that I want to share so much with you. And I want you to experience everything … with me.” He looks at me now. “But I can’t do that fast. I have to take my time with you. Have to.” He presses a kiss to my lips as he grinds his erection into my hip. “Get me?”
I nod, but I’m still confused.
“You do want me, though, right? I mean, soon we can … do this?” God, I’m so nervous right now.
“Fuck, Claire, I want you more than I want my next breath. I can’t wait to do this. I want you so badly, and you make it so difficult to be good, to savor each second. I want to do this slow, take it one step at a time, give you one taste at a time. I don’t want to dive right in. I want you to experience each sensation that builds up to that.”
I hear every word he says, watch his mouth as he says it, but one question is echoing in my head that needs to come out.
“How many people have you had sex with?”
Noah instantly shuts down and looks guarded.
Craptastic, and right when he started to look like he was getting in a better mood.
He pulls off me and covers me with a blanket before moving to the other side of the small tent. “Don’t ask me that. Not tonight, Claire.”
My eyebrows shoot into my hairline. “That bad?”
Noah shakes his head, but not in answer, more like frustration. “You know I’m not a virgin. The number of people shouldn’t matter. I’ve either had sex or I haven’t, and you know I have. I’ve never had sex without a condom and my last test—three months ago, after I got here, I should add—came out clean. That’s it, Claire. End of.”
“Sorry. I was curious. You can understand me questioning and being self-conscious because I haven’t had sex before, can’t you?”
He nods, wearing a wary expression.
“So, because I’m with you now, and we’re talking about sex in the future, you know that makes me nervous on how I would … perform compared to your—”
“I’ve been in your shoes before, angel. But, when it comes to performing, how you perform, to me, is all in here.” He touches his chest over where his heart is. “ ’Cause I can already tell we’re going to be atomic together. You already affect me with an intensity no one else has. You already respond to me on a level that borderlines live porn.” He smiles, and I blush at his words. “To me, there is no comparison. You are in a league of your own, love.”
I nod, understanding where he’s coming from. That doesn’t mean I like it, but I respect that he wants to wait.
“I need to get some air.” I rip the blanket off and proceed to put on my boots before stepping out of the tent.
“Uh, Claire? Your shirt?”
I don’t look back at him as I answer, “Don’t need it.”
The cool air is what I need to thaw off the burn in my body.