“Fuck good ideas. I’m tired of imagining how your tongue would feel in my mouth.” I moved closer, breath coming faster. “Please? Just one more time. Then I’ll fuck off.”
“Would you really fuck off?”
“Yes. I’ll fuck off now if you don’t want this.” I searched his face. “Just say the word.”
Noah nodded slowly, analyzing me with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, probably going through dozens of bad scenarios and awful outcomes. Psyching himself out. Comparing me to his old boss. Comparing himself to the old Noah. Letting the worries get in his head the way Phil Stokes did before each game. Which meant, I was about to get rejected.
Except I didn’t.
Noah put his hands on me. Fingers sliding into the wet hair at the nape of my neck and his other hand gripping my shoulder as he drew me in to swipe his tongue across my mouth. I shuddered. He felt it and smiled as I released a husky groan. And that was fine. He could be as calm as he wanted while I gripped him hard enough to break capillaries and drowned in the cool taste of his mouth. His talented tongue and sensual kisses made me question whether I could woo this fucking kid when he was a way better kisser.
It was supposed to have been one kiss, but Noah wasn’t moving. He gripped me tighter the longer it lasted, and his coolness faded one low moan at a time.
“Move back,” he rasped against my lips.
I complied, shifting against the headboard, and didn’t try to muffle my husky gasp when he straddled me. His round ass pressed against my throbbing dick. Fuck yes. Now we were talking.
With both hands cupping his ass cheeks, the tips of my fingers pressing into the crease of his jeans, I was on a different planet. The scrimmage had resulted in my best day ever, but this moment was lifting me into the goddamn heavens.
“Take your shirt off,” I said against his lips.
Noah hesitated briefly before whipping off his T-shirt. It was more of him than I’d ever seen, and it made me grabby. I roughly jerked him forward, bucking my hips up, and enjoyed his answering restless grind once I latched onto his nipple. I liked how sensitive he was, and how low his voice got when he was turned on. How he grabbed a fistful of my hair to yank me back into another sensual kiss, all the while grinding on me until my body was hot and aching.
I heard the second hand ticking on the clock and paid it no mind. Time meant nothing when it was spent making out with Noah, but he ended the blissful moment by pulling away. I automatically leaned in to kiss him again and made a low sound of protest when he turned his face. I panted against his cheek, fingers digging in tighter.
“I’m gonna leave before this gets out of hand.”
“It’s already out of hand,” I said, voice scraping out in a husky rumble. “But yeah.”
Noah shuddered when I traced openmouthed kisses down the side of his face. “Okay, I’m going now.”
“Okay,” I said, nipping at his jaw.
“Gavin, stop,” he breathed. “You’re making this impossible.”
I pulled away with difficulty and winced when the delicious pressure of his body against my dick disappeared. I bit my lip and wasn’t even discreet about the way I adjusted myself beneath the towel. And he wasn’t discreet about staring at the motion with parted, wet lips and dilated eyes.
“I’m going.”
“You said that already,” I said.
“Okay.” Noah grabbed his T-shirt and hopped off the bed. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“Right.”
He backed away, clenching his shirt in his fists. “Good night, Gavin.”
“‘Night, Noah.”
Noah fled the room, shutting the door too hard behind him, and I fell back against the bed with a groan. Phantom touches were all over my body, Noah’s mark imprinted in my flesh. There was no way I’d be able to scrub that sensation away and no amount of jerking off would replace my need for his touch.
Kissing Noah might have been the most masochistic thing I’d ever done, but I didn’t regret it. Not by a long shot.
Chapter Twelve
Noah
What is wrong with me?
It was a question that had been on repeat in my head since the previous night. When I’d straddled Gavin while grinding all over his dick and trying to eat his face. There would come a point in time when I was capable of self-control, but it was clear that time hadn’t arrived yet. I was weak and thirsty and pitifully unable to make good decisions.
I stared down at the array of bills I’d laid across his desk, trying to will myself to start making phone calls and setting up online accounts (because for some batshit reason Gavin had never done so, and most of his bills had piled up and gone overdue), but I couldn’t. My brain was stuck on the previous night when Gavin Fucking Brawley had clutched at me and shivered while kissing me.
A man who could have anyone he wanted, man or woman, had acted like a brush of my lips had given him life. And that was fucking surreal. And dangerous.
It could never happen again.
That was another thing I repeated like a mantra, but it wasn’t sticking. Evidence came in the form of me setting up autopay on his accounts one by one, right before I navigated to the surveillance system he’d set up in the house. Initially, I’d been annoyed about the cameras, but his paranoia about having a stranger in his house made sense. It also came in handy when I needed to track him down in the several-thousand-square-foot home without running around from room to room.
It was how I located him after hanging up with his mortgage company and showing them how scathing I could be regarding the fact that they didn’t have an autopay option. I looked at the video screens and found Gavin stretched out on a lawn chair by the pool. He’d already finished his workout and was wearing a very small and tight pair of swim shorts. His eyes were closed and his hand was cupping his bulge.
It could have been my hand cupping him last night. My hand drawing his towel away and figuring out just how big Gavin Brawley was and whether I could fit him all down my throat.
Holy shit, I needed to stop.
I clicked off the screen, put away the bills, and marched down to the pool. He didn’t open his eyes before saying, “Hey.” He also didn’t move his hand.
“We need to talk.”
“So talk.”
“About last night.”
Gavin’s lashes lifted enough for his intense golden eyes to lock onto me. “I’d figured you were gonna pretend it didn’t happen.”
“Well, I am, but I need to tell you why.”
Gavin moved his hand entirely and glared up at me. “If you’re gonna give me a rundown about why I’m not the type of guy you usually fuck with . . .”
“No,” I said dryly. “That is not what I intend to say. Stop assuming the worst about me. I’m not here to insult you or whatever you’re expecting. I’m just not the type of person to play games or be coy. I don’t just close my eyes and plug my ears without explaining to you why it was a mistake. We need to clear the air and set up boundaries.”
“Uh-huh.”
I sat on the edge of the lounge chair and put a tentative hand on his knee. “Seriously. It has nothing to do with you. It’s me.”