62

C H A P T E R 1 8
J E N N A
I had always enjoyed the view riding from Brooklyn into Manhattan—crossing the bridge, watching the city skyline grow bigger until it seemed to swallow me up—but this time I didn’t see a minute of it. I was completely
distracted by Noah.
He held my hand as we got into the cab. I thought it would drive me crazy to sit there holding his hand, but almost immediately he began to stroke my arm and leaned over to catch my lips in a kiss. The cab driver cleared his throat, but I didn’t care. I was too caught up in sensation, in the thrill of what was happening.
Part of me was still protesting. Hadn’t I just spent the day convincing myself it was for the best that nothing had happened between Noah and me? Hadn’t I decided I was relieved that he’d turned me down when I’d asked him out? How could I have allowed myself to get sucked back in so quickly?
You should stop this, I told myself firmly. You should tell him you’ve made a mistake, get out of this cab, and go back to Brooklyn.
But his touch was heady and confusing. I didn’t pull away. I leaned in instead. There’s no harm in riding with him to his house, I thought. If you don’t want to go any further when you get there, you can always get this driver to take you to your place.
Noah’s hand found my breast and squeezed. He was so firm, yet so gentle, his touch almost reverent. I wanted to lie back on the seat of the cab and pull him on top of me, but I managed to restrain myself. I ran my fingers down his chest instead, catching my thumb briefly and teasingly on his waistband before lowering my hand to grip his cock.
God, he was hard. He let out a low groan in my ear as I gripped him, and I knew the two of us were flirting with disaster. We were on the edge of a precipice. If we kept this up, there would be no going back.
I had to put a stop to it soon if I wanted to. But did I want to?
I was less and less sure. I’d convinced myself it was a good idea for the two of us to keep our distance. But after talking to him tonight at the bar, it seemed clear to me that whatever was between us was about more than just sex. And I thought he felt the same way. After all, hadn’t he said how easy he found it to confide in me?
Maybe we owed it to each other—to ourselves—to give this a chance.
Noah slid a hand up under my shirt and pushed aside my bra, and my head fell back in pleasure as his thumb circled my nipple. How was I supposed to think clearly with that going on? How was I supposed to be capable of any kind of rational decision making?
I wanted him. That much, I couldn’t deny.
Oh, hell. Why was I trying to fight it at all? If there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that Noah was amazing in bed. And if bed was where he wanted to take me, then bed was where I would go.
We tumbled out of the cab in front of his building and made it as far as the elevator before stopping to kiss again. Noah lifted me in his arms when the doors opened, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging, pulling him close. The new angle allowed us to deepen our kiss, and for a moment I quite literally forgot where I was. The only thing in the world that mattered was Noah—his lips on mine, his strong hands on my back, the taste of him, the heat as he pressed against me.
He pulled back. “I need to get you inside,” he said hoarsely. “I’m losing my mind here.”
My own mind had fled long ago. All I could do was nod.
Noah carried me inside and to the bedroom. I was astounded by his strength—it heightened my arousal, and by the time we reached his bed, I was rocking my hips against him, desperate to generate friction.
He set me down and held up a hand. “Stand still.”
“Why?” I wanted to rip off his clothes. I wanted to push him down on the bed and jump on top of him. I wanted to claim his body.
“Because I said so,” he said, giving me a feral grin. A shiver ran through me. He stepped back and looked me up and down carefully, as though I was a work of art he was considering purchasing. “Take off your shirt.”
My temperature rose. I gripped my shirt by the lower hem and lifted it slowly over my head, dropping it to the floor.
Noah smiled and nodded. “Good,” he said. “Now your pants.”
“Noah…”
“Take them off.” When I hesitated, he ordered, “Go on.”
I unfastened my pants, carefully stepped out of them, and kicked them away. Now I stood before him in bra and panties, shivering a little as the cold air kissed my bare, overheated skin.
He stepped forward and slipped a hand between my legs, pushing my panties out of the way for better access. I groaned and leaned forward, resting my forehead on his shoulder, hitching my hips against his hand. “Fuck, Noah,” I moaned. “You’re so fucking good at that.”
He reached around and unhooked my bra with one hand. I shimmied it loose, allowing my tits to fall free before pressing up against him again. I felt like an animal, stupid with lust and desperate for every touch.
“Now take off my shirt,” Noah commanded. I nodded and started to back away from him, but he grabbed my hip with his free hand and pulled me in closer. With the other hand, he slid one finger inside me, pressing his palm against me. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I…you said…”
He fucked me slowly with his finger, stopping every few strokes to grind his palm against my mound. I thought I was going to pass out with the intensity of it.
“I said take my shirt off,” he repeated. “I didn’t say we were done here.”
With a sob of ecstasy, I began to fumble with the buttons, n almost impossible task. His hand worked me at a slow and steady pace, and no matter how hard I tried to get more pressure, more friction, Noah controlled the tempo.
“You don’t get to come until you get this shirt off me,” he warned. “Go ahead.”
For an agonizing minute, I didn’t think I would be able to do it. A task that would have been easy any other day of the week had become borderline impossible. Finally, I managed to undo the last of the buttons and eased the shirt down over his shoulders.
“Now do I get to come?” I whispered, nearly whimpered.
In answer, he dropped to his knees, wrapped his arms around my ass, drew me to his mouth, and shoved one leg up on my shoulder. As soon as his tongue touched me, I came. I screamed with pleasure, bucking against his face, my fingers digging desperately into his shoulders. I thought it might have been the best orgasm of my life. When it was over, my knees lost all power and I collapsed.
Noah caught me. He lifted me in his arms, clutching me against his chest, wrapping my legs around him, and he slipped inside me. I slumped in his arms weakly, enjoying the sensation of being full and cared for. He lifted me up and down slowly, doing all the work, until I felt my body begin to tense again.
“Noah,” I whispered hoarsely. “I’m going to cum, again.”
He nodded against my cheek, and his voice was strained. “Me too.”
He gripped me tightly against him and I held on to him with my thighs, and we came together, the sound of our names
intermingling as we cried out.