Serious Ink (11 page)

She didn’t, really, but it felt like it. Pleasure hit her in waves again, only this time, when her pussy shrank with the contractions, it squeezed the thick shaft of his dick. His flesh didn’t yield to hers at all; there was no give, and that amplified the fierceness of the gratification sweeping through her, setting her every nerve ending on fire. God, it felt good to come with him inside her.

“Fuck,” he said, breath rushing against her jaw as he tightened his hold on her hair, perhaps without realizing it. “Fuck, fuck.”

She felt the answering tension in his muscles, heard it scraping in his voice. Her body was already pulsing around him, embracing him from the head of his cock to the broad base, where his groin bumped against her clit with each thrust, providing a delicious extra burst of sensation. Still, she gave him a deliberate squeeze, drawing her inner muscles tight as she let her nails sink a little deeper into his back.

He swore again, and as the haze of her own climax began to lift, she knew she’d pushed him to the edge.

His final thrusts were deeper than ever, unmistakably deliberate. She moaned, rocking with the motion, clinging to him as every muscle in his body seemed to work to drive his dick deeper into her core.

He tipped his head back, exposing his neck. She focused on the bare flesh above one shoulder, light and soft-looking above the dark sweep of a phoenix wing.

He groaned as her lips met his skin, and she kissed him there – bit him there lightly, remembering how he’d treated her and sensing he’d like it – as he finished, pouring himself into her.

He held her fast to him, fingers denting the swell of her ass cheek for several long moments after he stopped thrusting. When he moved, it was to steady her hips, guiding her as she slid off of his lap.

As she settled on the mattress beside him, she noticed, for the first time, the tremors racing up and down her inner thighs. They ached, and her breath was shaky. Still, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt better.

Noah locked her in eye contact, finally unfisting his hand and gently disentangling his fingers from her hair. Slowly, he let his hand drift down to her hip, then her thigh.

She tried to still her shaking muscles but couldn’t.

“You all right?” There was still a scrape to his voice, a rough edge that sent a wave of fleeting pleasure through her.

“Yes.” She was perfectly fine. It was just that it had been an eternity since anyone had given her muscles a good reason to react in such a way.

He peeled off the condom and went to throw it away, presumably in the bathroom next door – they’d never gotten far enough through their tour for him to show her it, or the kitchen. He was back in a heartbeat, still fully naked, still fully hard. The sight sent her heart speeding ahead again as she stretched out her legs, swinging them over the side of the bed.

No sooner had her toes brushed the carpet than he approached, sinking down beside her and sweeping her up, onto the mattress. “I won’t let you compete with Schubert for the futon. He fights dirty. Stay here. There’s plenty of room.”

His breath rushed hot against her ear as he pulled her farther onto the bed, drawing her close with an arm around her waist. Their naked bodies fit together so perfectly that she couldn’t bring herself to move. She hadn’t meant to stay that night.

She did anyway.

* * * * *

“What do you mean you’re moving out on your own?” Paul spread his hands flat on the kitchen table, bracing himself against it like he couldn’t believe what Zoe had just said. “Since when?”

“Since yesterday. Look, I overheard you and Britney talking. I know you found a great place you want to move into and that it only has one bedroom. If it’s still available, go for it. It’s about time I move out on my own anyway. Maybe this whole eviction thing will work out for the best.”

“We didn’t know you were looking for a roommate,” Britney said. “We never would’ve asked you to do that, especially with only 15 days’ notice.”

“I know. It was my decision. So are you guys going to go for that apartment or what?”

Paul and Britney exchanged a glance. With as good as they’d become at communicating silently, they might as well have been married already.

“Yeah…” A slow smile swept over Britney’s face. “I guess so. But only if you’re sure.”

Zoe smiled too. “I’m sure. I’m going to move my stuff into my new apartment today, actually.”

“Where’s your new place?” Paul’s expression was still tinged with suspicion. “It’d better be in a good neighborhood – nothing like where we were living before here.”

Zoe rattled off Noah’s address, which seemed to appease Paul … for a few seconds.

“Who’s your roommate?” he demanded.

Zoe infused her voice with as much matter-of-factness as she could muster. “My boss.”

Paul’s jaw actually dropped, and his eyes went several shades darker. “Which one?”

“My new one. Noah Wilder.”

A storm cloud might as well have drifted over Paul’s head. “That guy you went out with the other night? You’re planning to
move in
with him?”

“Yes.”

All traces of the hopeful look Paul had exchanged with Britney just moments ago were gone. “That’s insane. No way. Zoe, I don’t know what this guy said to you, but—”

“Paul, look.” She’d expected this. “I’m doing it – I’m moving in today.”

“This’d better not be about the place Britney and I looked at!” he half-shouted. “I don’t want to move in there if it means my sister shacking up with some pervert.”

Zoe winced inwardly, but tried not to let it show. God, Paul was loud, when he wanted to be. “He’s not a pervert and we’re not shacking up. We’re going to be roommates, and for the record, he’s a really nice guy. He rescued a cat.”

Paul snorted. “You barely know him. You’ve been on two freaking dates. And he wants you to move in with him? I guarantee you he’s scheming to get in your pants.”

Paul’s words stung. They would have even if Zoe hadn’t already slept with Noah the night before – and that morning, before she’d left to return home and share her news with Paul and Britney.

Before Zoe could respond, Paul’s eyes narrowed. “Wait, is that where you were last night?” Despite the fact that he was only twenty-seven, he looked ready to have an aneurysm.

She considered lying, but bit her tongue before a convenient lie could tumble out. “Actually, yes. I stayed there last night. It was fine. I’ll be fine tonight, and every other night. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Like hell I don’t! Did he…” Paul’s face went red, and Zoe could see his overprotective instincts warring with the horror of discussing anything sexual with his little sister. “If he touched you, let me know. I’ll break every damn bone in both of his hands.”

Zoe straightened. “Noah is
not
a pervert and you will
not
, under any circumstances, break any of his bones. Why do you just assume he’s a creep?”

“Because he’s a guy.” Paul glared at her from across the table. “Don’t do this, Zoe. You have a home with me and Britney. We can find another place with room for all three of us. Moving in with a stranger, putting yourself at risk – it’s not worth it.” He’d lowered his voice by several decibels, obviously trying hard to appeal to her sense of reason.

There was nothing he could say to talk her out of it. “We’d barely have over a week to find another place together, and that’s not long enough. Remember how long it took us to get in here? Anyway, I’ve been wanting to be more independent for a while. Well, here’s my chance. You and Britney are engaged – I know you want to ditch your third wheel and, you know, actually get married. This had to happen at some point.”

“It doesn’t have to happen right now.”

Paul was stubborn, but so was Zoe. The trait was written into the DNA they shared. “I’m twenty-four years old. That’s more than old enough to move out, and way too old to take orders from my big brother. Sorry, Paul. I’ve made my decision. I came here to tell you, not ask your permission.”

His jaw tensed, and he looked like he was literally biting his tongue, probably saving his breath for whatever horrible threat against Noah he’d come up with next.

Britney stepped forward, laying a hand on Zoe’s shoulder. “Zoe, I have to side with Paul. Moving in with a guy you barely know doesn’t seem like a very good idea.” She met Zoe’s gaze, a knowing look in her eyes. “You could end up getting hurt.”

Zoe knew Britney didn’t mean physical hurt.

“I’ll be fine,” Zoe said. “If it doesn’t seem like it’s working out, I’ll keep looking for another place with other roommates.”

A little dent appeared in Britney’s lip, and she looked sad. Having her around was basically the same thing as having a big sister. Zoe didn’t like worrying her, but at least she didn’t yell like Paul did.

“Really. I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t like this,” Paul said. “It’s a bad idea.”

“Zoe is right – we can’t stop her, if this is really what she wants to do,” Britney said.

Paul frowned.

“I’ll be moving my stuff today.” She didn’t say exactly when – she didn’t want Paul to be around when Noah came to help her pack up her bed.

“I’ll be at the gym,” Paul said after a few tense moments, reaching for a chair and snatching up the hoodie that had been draped over the back of it. “See you tonight, Britney.” He pulled the sweatshirt over his head and strode toward the door.

“I mean it about breaking his hands,” he called over his shoulder as he stepped out into the late March morning. “If he lays one finger on you…”

“Bye, Paul,” Zoe said. “Good luck with your training.”

* * * * *

Coming home to Zoe was enough to have Noah taking the steps two at a time, climbing toward his unit. He knew she was there; her car had been in the parking lot. She’d been living with him for a few days, now. Funny how her presence made his new apartment seem more like a home than his old one back in Buffalo ever had.

Sex aside – and holy fuck, had they been having it – it was nice to come home to someone who’d smile at him. Schubert might butt his head against his shin, if he was in an especially charitable mood. Or hungry. But Zoe’s smile blew that out of the water.

“Oh, hey,” Zoe said, looking up from where she knelt in the center of the living room. “I was expecting your meeting to run later.” She had one arm elbow-deep inside an open moving box, the other cradling something in her lap.

Whenever he worked up the will to drag his gaze from her beautiful face – making a detour to stare at her equally beautiful breasts, covered but still tempting beneath her long-sleeved t-shirt – he recognized that something immediately.

It was a photo album – his photo album. Old pictures from years ago. One of his sisters had put it together for him. He almost never looked at it, but he wouldn’t have wanted to lose it – he’d packed it carefully with a box of drinking glasses and plates.

She glanced down at the open album and her brows knit together as her lips curled in a frown. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to snoop. This box was unlabeled, and I thought it was one of mine.”

“It’s all right.” He didn’t know what he thought of her looking through the album, really. He guessed it didn’t matter much. “I needed to unpack those glasses anyway. I’ve been using the same three cups since I moved in. Kind of pathetic.”

Her pained expression intensified. “I looked through the album. I couldn’t resist.” Her words tumbled out in a rush, and sitting there on her knees as she confessed, she looked repentant. “So I was definitely snooping, even if that wasn’t my original intention. Are you mad?”