Noah (13 page)

Noah stands up now, too, and takes the near empty
beer bottle out of my hand and sets it on the floor. "Like I
said
,
we'll talk about
how you lied and sneakily
were
working for me tomorrow. If you need money,
I'll give it to you, but right now I want to know more about what
happened with Caleb."

He wants to talk about Caleb. Fuck that. He
can
’
t pick and choose
what we talk about. I came over here devastated about Caleb's
infidelity, but now I'm mad about losing the best source of income
I have at the moment.

My lack of concern over Caleb right now should tell
me something about my relationship with him.

I get in Noah's face, well
,
technically his chest, but I look up at
him with piercingly angry
eyes
and hope to intimidate him. He's not
intimidated because he has the audacity to laugh at my expression
and that pisses me off even more. "We're going to talk about this
now, Noah. I'm just like all those other girls who work for you, so
why do they get to keep their jobs but you're firing me?"

"I'm technically not firing you because you never
worked for me. I'm firing the imaginary Kendall who talks to nasty
old men for a living until they're coming from the sound of her
sultry voice. That Kendall no longer works for me."

I back down and place my hands on my hips. "Then I
want to apply as me this time. There are laws, you know. You can't
discriminate against me just because you know me."

His cheeks tint red with anger and it's distracting
my train of thought. He's so hot when he's angry. It's always
turned me on. My breasts get heavy, my nipples harden, and
scorching heat spreads through my southern region. I can't believe
I'm horny right now.

"You're right, Skye, I can't, but is this the kind of
profession you really want? Does talking to these men make you feel
successful and accomplished? No, I bet you feel disgusted every
time you hang up the phone."

He's right. Why the hell does he always have to be
right? This man is infuriating.

"You're such a hypocrite. You own the fucking
business, Noah!" I'm shouting now as my uncontrollable anger
resurface and I'm unable to control my irritation at his hypocrisy.
"You sell sex, or the illusion of sex, every day in all different
forms. So what, I can't be a phone sex operator anymore? Fine, put
me somewhere else. Let me strip, or maybe I can have my own webcam
series. I hear those are successful. Hey, I know. I want to be one
of those high-class escorts. The athletes and celebrities treat
them really well." I have no desire to sell my body or do any of
those things, but Noah pissed me off so much that I don't care what
he believes.

Okay, maybe I do care what he thinks.

"I need a dependable and reliable job and working for
your company gives me that. Do you really think I want to be
working as a phone sex operator for the rest of my life? I only
need the job temporarily."

"Shut
up
.”
His voice is
low and even. It's a little terrifying; nothing like his yelling
was before. "Do you really think I'd actually let you do any of
those jobs if you were serious? Do you think I'd want you to sell
yourself? Hell no, I don't. Fucking call me a hypocrite, Skye. I
don't fucking care. I am a hypocrite, and that's not going to
change when it comes to you. If things were better with Caleb and
he knew what you've been doing all this time, he'd be
pissed
,
too."

"Don't bring Caleb into this," I interject. "This is
between me and you."

He leans down so his eyes are level with mine and I
can smell traces of mint on his intoxicating breath. It must be
from when he brushed his teeth before going to bed. "You're right,
it is between you and me, Skye." He rests the palm of his hand on
my neck and glides his thumb up and down my throat. His eyes
flicker to the spot on my neck he's caressing. "Your voice is sexy
as fuck and those men don't deserve to hear it."

He pauses and his eyes shift to mine. I'm lost in the
intensity of his gaze as he continues to speak. "You're a
g
oddamn prize, Skye.
You're like the coveted gold medal at the Olympics. A man should
have to earn that medal, not be able to pay for it."

The pureness and sincerity in his voice as he speaks
about me releases all the anger inside me and replaces it with
love. My emotions are so intense around him because I love him so
much. That was the sweetest, most romantic thing he's probably ever
said to me, and even more importantly, I can tell he believes
everything he said.

I'm not sure how long he's felt this way or when Noah
started thinking I was a prize. I always just assumed I was some
average girl that he called his best friend once, but I guess the
signs were there all along. I just missed seeing them all these
years, but now I see them clearly. It's obvious he wants me.

At least I think he wants me.

Suddenly I no longer care that I can't work for him,
or that earlier tonight I was ready to kill Caleb for cheating on
me. All that matters right now is Noah, and my intense need to
finally be with him. I wanted him for so long and that desire for
him is back. I don't want to wait any longer to have him.

I slide the palm of my hand up his bare chest and
around his neck, pulling him down to me as I reach up on my toes
and brush my lips against his. He tastes better than I imagined and
this time there is no wondering if he'll kiss me back. I'm not
mistaking the chemistry between us in this moment, because when our
lips touch he kisses me back immediately. Our mouths dance to a
song I've waited years to be a part of.

His lips are urgent against mine as he's moving me
backwards. I stumble over the bottles on the floor, spilling what
little beer was left in them, and then he's pushing me up against
the wall near the headboard of his bed.

His hands are everywhere–caressing my soft neck,
teasing my supple breasts, gripping my small hips. Every touch,
every squeeze has me aching, begging him for more as I push my
breasts into his hands and sigh in delight when he squeezes my
tits.

I've imagined what this day might be like for so
long–ever since I was fourteen and my childhood crush became the
man I fell in love with. Back then I imagined him sneaking into my
bedroom while my parents slept down the hall, or stealing a kiss
behind the school. Then as I got older
,
my dreams of a first kiss became dreams of a first
time. I wanted Noah to be the man I lost my virginity to. I waited
for him–saving myself all those years and had several relationships
fizzle out because I wouldn't give it up. Those guys thought I was
holding out for marriage, but I was really holding out for
Noah.

After that night at the frat party, things
change
d
and all my
expectations for a perfect first time went away. Six months after I
started dating Caleb I gave it up to him and made love to him on a
twin bed in our first shitty apartment together in New York. It was
awkward and uncomfortable, and when it was over I honestly
didn
’
t understand what
the fuss was about, but as time went on that changed and I
thoroughly enjoyed sex.

But that's all it was–sex. The way Noah is kissing me
now feels like a promise for what we'll share in a few moments,
something explosive and scintillating. It will be much more than
sex.

It will change my life.

His strong hands slide under my flannel and up the
soft skin of my stomach until he reaches the underside of my
breasts. I'm not wearing a bra and he groans when his thumbs trail
across my hard nipples.

His touch sends a jolt of electricity through my
body, reminding me of what's to come. I never want to stop feeling
this way. I want Noah's hands on me for the rest of my life. I'm
wearing entirely too much clothing. One of us needs to take my
clothes off, but I don't want to let go of him long enough to
undress.

Noah solves my predicament when he rips my flannel
pajama top open. He destroys my top and the front buttons scatter
all across the room. He slides the remaining material down my arms
until my top is lying on his hardwood floor.

His hands come up to cup my bare breasts, while he
leans down and nuzzles my neck, kiss
es
the soft skin over and over again. His beard
tickles as his lips wander softly down my body until he's kissing
the top of my heavy breasts.

"God, I've wanted this for so long," he groans
huskily against my skin.

I've wanted this for so long, too.

I arch my back so he can indulge on more of me.
"You're fucking beautiful, Skye. Every inch of you is beautiful.
These tits...are beautiful," he whispers before sucking one of my
erect nipples into his mouth.

Oh...

God...

I need...

Him...

Now!

This feels like a dream and at any moment I might
wake up. This is too good to be true. Stuff like this doesn't
happen to me. Noah kissing me and ravishing my body doesn't happen
to me.

As he continues to play with my breasts
,
he slides one of his hands down
my smooth stomach and under the band of my flannel pajama pants. I
love how his tattoo sleeve covering his arm looks against my pale
skin. His head moves up my body until he rolls his forehead across
mine. "You're a naughty girl," he claims when he realizes
I
’
m not wearing panties.
Then he's tracing his fingers over my smooth mound and spreading my
swollen lips apart with his thumb. A fingertip brushes against my
clit and my head hits the back of the wall as I gasp in
approval.

Finally.

"Noah, please," I beg. I begin to gyrate my hips,
moving my clit against his hand. He smiles against my mouth before
lowering his lips to one of my breasts and biting down on my
nipple.

"Fuuuuck..." I cry, unprepared for the bite of pain
chased with a jolt of pleasure. His teeth release my nipple and
then he’s kissing up my body until his mouth is back on mine. My
tongue teases his as my hands slide up and grip the hair on the
back of his head. I pull hard and he's forced to release my
mouth.

"Noah, please...I need to feel you inside me.
Please–" I'm unable to finish the last of my begging. My eyes roll
to the back of my head and I scream out my release from an orgasm
that came out of nowhere. My entire body trembles in gratification.
I've had plenty of orgasms before but this one was...different.
Maybe it's because I don't need approval from him and I don't need
to be self-conscious about every move I make.

The reason doesn't matter. All that matters is I want
to feel this way again. I'm already craving more.

Noah crouches down in front of me
,
dragging my pajama pants down with him. I
step out of the legs and then he's throwing my pants on the floor
near my flannel top. His hands slide around my hips and squeeze my
small ass. He pulls my pelvis flush against his mouth and then his
lips kiss me.

His tongue coaxes my pussy lips apart and then he
teases my sensitive clit. It's too soon–every brush of his tongue
is almost painful and my body's not ready to go again, but Noah
doesn't stop. His tongue licks and caresses me and suddenly I'm
already feeling the beginning signs of another orgasm as warmth and
tingles spread throughout my pelvis.

I want to beg him to fuck me. He's already made me
come once and I want him to make me come again, while he's inside
me, but I don't protest as Noah's tongue continues to stroke my
clit, making love to it with a passion I've never experienced
before.

My hands fall to his hair and I tangle my fingers
through his dark locks, begging him with my hands to continue.
Every dart of his tongue rubs his beard along my inner thighs,
stimulating my sensitive skin. His lips close around my clit and he
begins to suck and it's enough to throw me over the edge for a
second time in just a few short minutes.

I cry out uncontrollably as I climax against his
mouth. He continues to lick and suck my tight bundle of nerves
until my body's calmed down, and then he's trailing kisses back up
my flesh. He takes his times as his lips linger on different areas
of my skin until he's standing back up and I'm watching him
adoringly. My hands find the band of his boxers as his mouth claims
mine. I can taste myself on his tongue as I pull his boxers down
his body.

Oh. My. God. I think we're really going to
be
doing this. After all
these years I'm finally going to sleep with Noah.

The possible consequences from what's about to happen
never even cross my mind as one of Noah's hands slip back around my
waist, gripping the back of my thigh. He lifts one of my legs over
his hip, opening me up to him. His other hand takes hold of his
cock and he centers it at my greedy core. The brief moment of
anticipation is almost too much for my body to handle, but then he
pushes inside me and I whimper out in elation.

His hips move effortlessly, each thrust steady and
even. He leaves his one hand on the back of my thigh as his other
hand grabs the back of my neck. His forehead falls against mine and
he opens his eyes, watching me intensely as he fills me over and
over again.

My lips part as our breath
s
tangle together in the short distance
between our mouths. Each time he thrusts inside me I have the urge
to close my eyes in an attempt to capture every blissful moment,
but my eyes remain open. I don
’
t want to miss out on the way he's looking at me
right now. Our eyes express exactly what we're not saying.

He's giving me more than just comfort after a hard
night–this is more than just sex. This is two people finally able
to express the way they feel about each other in the most beautiful
way possible. There
’
s a
reason it's referred to as the art of making love, because the way
Noah is moving inside me is an art form, an art form he's
perfected.