Exposure (18 page)

Aubrey took her time answering. "My scars.
What if people don't like me?"

Noah pinched his eyes closed and tilted his
head back. She'd never mentioned anything like that to him before,
and it killed him she worried about it. Most of the scarring could
be hidden by clothing, but it was another factor to take into
account when…

"Listen to me, Aubrey. If people don't like
you because you have scars, then that's their problem. You don't
want to know them anyway."

He could fucking kiss her right now for that
alone.

"Do you think they're ugly?"

Noah crept closer to see what Raven would
do, and was stunned stupid when she lifted Aubrey's arm.

"Let me have a look at them," she said
gently.

Pushing up the sleeve of Aubrey's nightgown,
Raven tenderly skimmed her fingers over the red, marred flesh of
Aubrey's forearm to just below the shoulder where the worst of the
damage had been. She didn't offer a quick platitude or pretend the
scars weren't there. She addressed them head on.

Raven tugged the sleeve down. "I think
you're very brave. And I don't think there's anything ugly about
you."

Everything inside him froze. He swayed,
throat closing, fingers clenching the frame of the picture somehow
still in his hand. Tears burned behind his lids.

Fucking…hell. Slowly, he staggered from the
door to gather himself, pacing the hallway--once, twice--until he
was certain he had his emotions under control and his chest was no
longer bleeding out.

He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath
before knocking. They were talking about hair products when he
walked in, plastered a grin on his face, and held up the picture
he'd framed for Aubrey's room. "Got a surprise for you, my
love."

***

L
eaving Noah to
have a few minutes of private time with Aubrey, Raven climbed the
steps to the third floor and stopped in the living room. Aubrey
wasn't kidding. He'd printed and framed the photos already. The
arrangement was different, too. Three shots of her and Noah were
together in a floating frame, with family portraits around it.

Studying them closely, she could scarcely
believe the couple was them. They resembled a jewelry ad or
greeting card. So happy, carefree. Loving. God, they looked…real.
Not friends with benefits, but the genuine article.

Panic threatened, her chest growing tight
with too little air. She fought it. Seeing them together shouldn't
frighten her. This was Noah. Protective, loyal Noah. He was the
same person and so was she. The only difference was the physical
relationship.

She glanced again at the pictures and knew
she was lying to herself. A man didn't look at a woman like that if
he wanted only sex, if he had any intention of returning to a safe
friendship. He was slipping into love, and they swore they
wouldn't. She'd spent the majority of her life afraid, keeping
others at a distance because the thought of falling in love, of
trusting someone that deeply, was an incapability. It wasn't even
until recently she understood why.

No more responsible for her past than Noah
was for his, she swallowed hard and pushed the last of the panic
away. Noah had her trust. She'd done things with him she'd never
allowed with other lovers. If she were to even try a committed
relationship on for size, it should be with someone like him. No
one was shoving them down the aisle or saying anything about
forever.

That had been her issue all along, because
what man wanted a woman who would only accept him into her body on
her terms? You couldn't build a marriage, a life, on those
relationships. Somewhere along the way, she gave up on the hope for
normal and accepted her lonely fate. It hadn't even crossed her
mind enough to upset her, to think twice.

Until now. Noah wasn't them, and she had the
suspicion he was silently begging her for everything she had, even
if he wasn't yet aware. His touch, the kind words, the endearing
way he looked at her, all bespoke of what he wanted. And he wanted
her.

At this point, what could it hurt to try?
Lines had been crossed. Feelings were involved. Except she didn't
know how to voice her emotions. She straightened. But, because of
Noah, she did know how to express them. When they made love, she
could tell he was pushing for a little more every time. She'd give
him that more.

And she knew exactly how to get started.

Determined, she walked into his office and
grabbed his camera off the desk and made her way into the bedroom
to set it on the bed. Stripping, she made a trail of breadcrumbs in
the form of clothing from the door to the bedroom. She turned off
all the lights and set the fireplace kindling. Then, taking the
comforter from the bed, she wrapped it loosely around her body,
exposing her back and bunching it in her fingers at her chest. She
stood by the wall of windows, facing the extraordinary view, and
waited, knowing he'd be up soon.

He didn't disappoint. The suite door opened
and closed, followed by a pause in his footsteps. A groan emitted
from down the hall and she grinned.

"Raven?"

She didn't answer, but his footsteps drew
closer, stopping periodically as if picking up her clothes along
the way.

"Baby, I hope to hell you're still
awake."

He stepped in the room and drew up short,
surveying first her and then the camera she'd left waiting for him.
Recognition dawned in his eyes. "Fuck, Raven. Do you mean it?"

Since he seemed hesitant to move, she looked
at him coyly over her shoulder. "Go ahead, Noah. Take some pictures
and then take me."

He drew in a harsh breath, hand drifting to
the bulge behind his zipper. "Don't move."

Facing the window again, she grinned.

Several clicks filled the room before his
rough voice cut the quiet. "Turn your head. Yes, that's it." He
moved around the room. "I'm so goddamn hard, baby."

"I'm so damn wet." And she was. Her sex
ached and her folds were drenched with this new foreplay. "You're
wearing too many clothes."

He groaned painfully. "No. I take them off
and the camera's a distant memory. I want you on film, knowing no
one else will see you like this. Mine. Just for me."

Her lids drifted shut as a tremor coursed
through her. "I want to see your reaction, Noah. Strip and I'll
drop the blanket."

Cursing, he shed his clothes while she
turned to watch. His thick erection sprung up to his naval,
swelling under her gaze, and she realized how badly she wanted to
take him in her mouth. She'd only tried oral with a couple of other
partners, and always while they were tied down. What would it feel
like having his hands thread her hair while she pleasured him?

As if reading her thoughts, the smooth,
corded muscles of his body tensed and shifted as he moved. He
gripped his cock and stroked, camera ready in the other hand.

"I'm taking you in my mouth when you're
done."

His hand stopped. So did his breathing.

She walked to the bed and sat at the edge,
still clutching the comforter to her chest.

His eyes tracked her movement. He opened his
mouth to speak, but closed it again, clearing his throat. "In all
these years, you're the only woman who's made me desire to pick up
my camera and throw it aside in the same blink."

Because she knew he was telling the truth,
and it equally scared her and turned her on, she distracted him by
letting go of the comforter. It pooled by her waist, exposing her
breasts.

He brought the camera to his face, taking
several shots. "Put your hair over your shoulder, baby. Yes." The
camera clicked. "Lay back."
Click, click
. "One arm over your
head. Good. The other, dip it below the duvet."

She set her hand on her belly, gaze locked
on him. Sliding her hand lower, she bit her lip and closed her
eyes.

Click, click, click.

"Touch yourself, baby. Fuck, yes. Are you
wet?"

"Very wet. Wanting you." She parted her
folds and spread the slickness over her swollen clit, arching her
back. Her head flung to the side, lost in the sensation.

"Imagine it's my fingers there. That's it,
baby. Does it feel good?"

Click, click, click.

"So good." Tension built in her body,
already on edge. Her fingers stroked faster, harder. "Going to
come, Noah."

He groaned low and deep and long. "Come for
me, baby." His feet shuffled closer, moved to her left.
Click,
click, click
. "Need to see your face when you climax. It's a
gorgeous sight."

His low, rough voice caused a delicious
shiver. Her nerve endings fired. Her breath caught. She bowed off
the mattress. Screamed his name.

Click, click, click.

Then,
crash
.

N
oah dropped the
camera and was between her thighs before her tremors ceased.
Crashing his mouth to hers, he pushed for entry and stroked his
tongue inside, doing with his mouth what he wanted to do with his
cock. He had no idea if she was serious about giving head, didn't
know if that was a trigger for her, so he kissed her like his life
depended on it, because his sanity did.

She wrapped one leg around his waist and
rolled him to his back. He cupped her neck, holding her to him.
When she raked her nails down his chest and her mouth followed the
path, he thought he'd blow.
Lower, lower
.

He grabbed her hips. "Only if you want to,
baby. If it--"

"I want to," she moaned against his nipple,
taking it between her teeth and sinking in.

His head hit the mattress. "Holy fuck."

She grinned against his flesh, licking her
way down past his naval to…

"Holy, holy fuck."

Her tongue swirled around his head, darting
into the slit and spreading the moisture beading. His cock was so
full with seed the veins protruded. His balls tightened. She licked
her way down the underside of his shaft and it was all he could to
hold it together when he wanted to shove his fingers in her hair
and his cock farther in her mouth.

She urged his thighs apart. He complied,
allowing her more room to work. Fisting his base, she worked her
lips around his size and brought her hot, wet mouth down, taking
half of him in one try. Breathing ragged, his clutched the sheets
so he didn't grab her. Forcing his hips not to move proved
difficult. Sweat broke out on his forehead, dripping down his
temple with the restraint.

Hollowing her cheeks, the pressure increased
as she pumped her fist while sucking him off. He groaned. Begged.
She went back to teasing the hell out of him, licking his head and
down his shaft. Her hand closed around his balls and massaged. He
pressed his palms to his eyes, the torture, the pleasure, almost
too much. She was driving him fucking mad, and he goddamn loved
it.

When her other hand worked between his
cheeks, he stilled. She slid her finger along his crack, applied
pressure to his hole. She massaged the tight muscle, but didn't
penetrate. His heart pounded as he tried to decide if he liked it
or not.

She lifted her head, gaze meeting his,
ceasing all activity. "No?"

He looked at her, poised over his cock, lips
wet, her hands on his body and where. "Honestly? I don't know."

She slid her hand out and the loss almost
gave him his answer. "Have you ever before? It can be very
pleasurable."

He was beginning to think anything she did
would be its own form of rapture. "I've done it to my partners."
Not often, though. "Never had it done to me."

Nodding slowly, her hair fell around her
face, the ends caressing his stomach. "Same here." She sat back on
her haunches, hands on her thighs. "Trust me?"

"Of course." There was never a doubt. He
searched her gaze, missing her hands on his body. "Go ahead, baby.
Touch me."

She paused, and then dipped her fingers
between her own legs, coating her middle finger in her wetness.
Slowly, she slid it between his crease again. Before he knew what
hit him, her other hand was fisted around his base and her mouth
was swallowing half of his cock. Her slick finger massaged his ass,
working the tight muscle in a rhythm mimicking her tongue.

Sensation overload. He was at the brink of
coming that fast.

Tongue swirling. Mouth suction. Hand
pumping. Finger penetrating.

He barely had time to register the slight
pressure in his hole, the mild, yet pleasurable burning, before his
back tightened with an oncoming orgasm. She twisted her finger, and
the nerves in so sensitive an area lit a fuse of need, building the
pleasure. Her other hand fisted him harder. Her head bobbed faster.
He hit the back of her throat and went blind.

"Coming," he growled. "Coming, baby." This
time he yelled.

She waited until he started spilling before
she slipped her finger out, lifted her head and straddled him, fist
pumping as his seed shot out in hot spurts over his chest. Still
coming, quaking, he thrust into her deft hands, the glide
unimaginable. Finally able to touch her, he fisted his hands in her
hair and dragged her face to his. Mouth wide open in pleasure as
the last of him spilled out, he screamed through the strongest
fucking release he ever had.

When his muscles unlocked, his lids opened
to find her right there, breathing the same air and satisfaction in
her eyes. Though it wasn't nearly enough to thank her, he kissed
her with everything he had, wrapping his arms around her slender
back.

Later, after he'd carried her to the shower
and washed, she curled under the sheets and drifted off. Unable to
look away, he fetched his camera from the floor, pleased he hadn't
broken the thing when he dropped it before, and took several
pictures of her sleeping. Stalker? Maybe. Smitten was more like
it.