Chapter 19

"Nothing is going to get out of hand."

My hand is on the office door, but the tone of Noah's voice from inside causes me to pause.

"Tell me you're fucking her."

Taryn?

"You don't need to worry about me and Livvy. I've got it under control. I promise, it's not that serious."

He and Taryn are talking about me? Not that serious?

I drop my hand from the doorknob and step away.

Right. I mean, he basically said he wanted to keep things casual at the lake house. I should have known. Silly me.

"Sup, girl!"

I look up to see Anthony smiling. My feet must have been moving of their own accord because I am suddenly out in the lobby of the shop.

"How you doin'?" he asks.

I put on a smile, but I can barely focus my eyes on him. "Good."

He rubs his hands together. "So, hey. I was just thinking about how you agreed we should go on another date, and I wanted to make a plan, see when you're available."

I'd totally forgotten I agreed to a second date.

Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe this is exactly what I need. What did Bex say? Play the field. Have fun. You don't owe anybody anything. Right.

"I'm free right now," I say.

Anthony raises his eyebrows. "Cool, yeah, sure. Let's do it." He scoops his arm around my shoulder and leads me to the door. The bell rattles when he pushes it open for me.

"What are you doing?" Noah's dark voice hits me from behind.

We turn to see him standing there chest out, arms at his sides, somehow filling the entire space.

"We're going out, boss. Catch you later." Anthony smiles and winks as he turns back toward the door. But I can't pry my eyes away from his glare.

"Liv. I need to talk to you. Now." The angle of Noah's jaw gets sharper as his dark brows narrow.

"Can it wait?—"

"No," he barks.

I mouth "sorry" to Anthony then follow Noah.

When I enter his office, he's standing in the middle of the room, back to his desk.

"What's going on?" he asks. His voice is controlled, but there's an edge to it I haven't heard before.

"He asked me on another date after our first one, I figured tonight was as good a time as any." It takes every ounce of will in my body to not let my voice waver on my words.

"I'm confused." He tilts his head, shadows exaggerating the depth of his eyes and cheekbones.

"About what?" I don't manage to hide the shake that time.

"About what? Why are you going on a date with him? I thought—" He clenches his jaw, nostrils flared.

"Am I not allowed to? We're not that serious, right? We haven't agreed to be exclusive."

He leans back against his desk, arms crossed, brows lowered. "No. We haven't."

Say you want to be. Say it. Please.

But he doesn't say it. He's unmoving, expressionless, unblinking.

"Okay then, glad we're on the same page. I'll be home later, don't wait up for me." I turn toward the door and then the desk screeches across the floor.

When I look back, Noah has closed the distance between us, looming over me. "You're not going out with him tonight. You're taken." His chest is heaving. He lowers his face closer to mine. "And if anyone's going to fuck you tonight, it's going to be me." His tone is low, menacing. Thick and velvety, seeping its way under my skin and twisting itself around my bones.

I love it. His is the only voice I want to hear whispered in my ear.

"Don't tell me what to do," I say. "You don't own me."

"Of course I don't own you. That doesn't mean you're not mine."

"I'm not yours."

"Yes you are. You're mine. Just like I'm yours."

I stare dumbly up at him. My breathing is too loud.

He touches my wrist.

I pull it away from him and square my shoulders. "Then why did you tell Taryn not to worry about me, that it's not that serious?"

"Is that what this is about?" He furrows a brow.

I don't say anything, steadying my expression, wanting to go off but afraid I'll burst into tears instead.

He softens his gaze and reaches for my hand, his fingertips grazing my palm as he lowers his head and quiets his voice. "She was concerned about our relationship causing drama. That's what I was telling her not to worry about. That's what I was saying wasn't that serious. I am serious about you."

"You are?"

"Yes. I just—I didn't know how serious you wanted it to be. You're young and having fun. I thought you wanted to keep things casual?—"

"No."

"No?" There's a hint of a smile on his lips.

"No." I shake my head and his smile grows.

He kisses me roughly, greedily, lips parting just enough so that the tip of my tongue tastes a hint of mint from his. Pulling away he takes my hand, interlacing our fingers, and we walk back out to the shop.

"Everyone," he says loudly, "listen up."

Everyone in the shop turns to look at us, those not with clients walk toward us. My hand burns, still interlocked with his.

Anthony's face is red.

"I wanted you all to know, so there's no questioning, Livvy and I are together." Noah looks at me, the grin on his lips soft, but his eyes sparkling. "I'm crazy about her. And it's not casual."

"This is some fucking bullshit." Anthony pushes out the door, the metal of the bell banging against glass.

"Here we go." Taryn rolls her eyes and walks off, her black boots thudding heavily against the floor.

Noah bends down to me. "Don't worry. I'll talk with Anthony."

"I guess it's time for me to tell Bex about us, then, too."

He nods, but says, "When you're ready. No rush."

But he is in a rush to get me upstairs, taking me by the hand to the elevators and kissing me the whole ride up. I breathe in his scent, the warmth of his skin under his clothes, the feel of his hands on me, his hard chest, his soft lips.

He said he's mine.

He's mine and I'm his and though I've imagined this scenario in my head hundreds of times, it was never this good, this right, this perfect.

His arm is around my waist as he shoves the door to the apartment open.

Wood is sitting at the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal, spoon mid-air, milk dripping from between the honey nut O's.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Noah asks him, his grip on me tightening.

"Nah, bro. I'm just hanging at home tonight."

"You have somewhere to be," Noah insists.

Wood's face brightens. "Oh! Right, yeah. I do." He gets up and drinks the rest of the milk from his bowl and tosses it in the sink. "Thanks for the reminder." Wood flashes us a smile, sticks his tongue out, and claps Noah on the shoulder as he passes us on the way out the door.

And now we're alone.

Noah glances at his phone. "We've got a few hours until Bex's shift is over."

"She texted me earlier that she's staying somewhere else tonight. She didn't want me to worry. So, we have all night to…"

Noah raises his eyebrows. "Oh." He steps closer, his pelvis pressed against my lower belly. "To what? What do you want to do, Livvy?"

"You said, uh…" I pause, heart beating hard.

He tilts his head, running the edges of his teeth along his full lower lip. Waiting.

"You said you were going to…fuck me."

His eyes darken. "Is that what you want?"

I nod.

"I need you to say it, angel. Say you want me to fuck you."

I swallow, my throat dry. "I want you to fuck me, Noah."

He curls his tattooed hand around mine and, walking backward, pulls me into his darkened room. Everything is drenched in inky blue, the moon shining silver out the window.

"Come here," he whispers.

Cool air makes my skin prickle as he lifts my shirt up and off. In the quiet, he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze and kisses my temple. As he undoes my bra, he kisses my neck, right at the pulse point. He must feel it. He must know how fast my blood is pumping right now.

His fingers graze my sides as he slips my bra off, then they move up to cup my breasts. He rubs his thumbs over my hardened nipples, and I let out a whimper.

"You know I'm going to take care of you, right?" he asks as he slides his hands down to my pants. "You trust me?" He deftly unbuttons my jeans.

"Yes," I breathe.

"Good." He pushes my jeans and panties down at the same time. "Now, be a good girl and go lie down on the bed for me."

Scooting backward toward the pillow, I watch him loom over me, shadowed in darkness. He strips off his shirt and pants, standing there in only his black boxer briefs. He's tall and lanky. Black tattoos cover every inch, wrapping around each bulge and ripple of his muscles.

He pushes the boxers down next. He's already hard. And large. And holy fuck, he's going to put it inside me. Heat blooms all over my body, skin on fire, my center molten.

The mattress dips as he crawls to me, slowly, a hunter stalking his prey.

He comes up and kisses my forehead, then the tip of my nose. So soft, so gently I wasn't expecting it. Running a knuckle from my temple to my chin, he gazes into my eyes reverently, lips parted. Every part of me yearns for this man. I've never wanted anyone like I want him. Need him.

He's about to say something but I'm already grabbing his face and pulling him to me. Our lips come together, warm and soft. We move together perfectly. The rhythm of our breaths, mouths opening, tongues sliding in unison.

I squeeze his hips with my thighs. The pulsing between my legs is almost as distracting as the way his hard cock presses into my belly.

His hands roam my body. Electricity buzzes under my skin.

I can't help but rock my hips, needing more friction as our kisses go deeper, harder. He growls as he hikes his hard thigh up between my legs, and I rut up against him, both of us wet with my juices now.

"Fuck," he whispers between kisses. "You need more?" He reaches down and presses fingers to my clit, right where I'm throbbing for him.

"Yes," I pant.

I feel out of control. My body wants. Wants.

"Noah, please."

"I've got you." He kisses down my throat then moves to each breast, licking and sucking my nipples, making my back arch.

He kisses and licks down my sternum and down my trembling tummy as he goes between my legs. He nuzzles his cheek along the inside of my thigh, laying kisses, moving closer to where I'm empty and aching for him.

He dips his head down, kissing me there, too. I watch up on my elbows, holding my breath as he looks up at me with a wicked glint in his eyes, light catching the sharp point of his white teeth.

"Just like that," he says. "Watch me eat you."

As soon as his tongue slicks between my folds, I throw my head back. "Shit—" The word dissolves into a groan as my eyes roll back.

"What did I just say?"

"Sorry," I pant, trying to focus back on him.

He licks again, this time sliding a finger inside me.

"Oh."

"That okay?"

"Yes. More."

And he gives me more. He gives me everything, slurping and licking long and slow, bringing me to the precipice and keeping me there until I'm a shaking, panting, mess. And then he sucks my clit between his lips until I shatter into a catatonic state of bliss.

I come back from the orgasm, catching my breath, lightheaded, to him sitting back on his haunches, smirking at me. He wipes his mouth with his forearm.

"Noah," I breathe, reaching for him.

He comes to me, pressing his forehead to mine and kisses my lips. Soft.

I'm still shaking. Overheated. Skin slick all over.

He kisses me again. Rougher. But I devour it, digging my fingers into his shoulder blades. Needing more. I bite his lip harder than I mean to. He growls, gripping both my thighs and pressing his cock between them, running the length of it along my wetness.

Oh fuck. Fuck. "Fuck me," I gasp out as he's sucking my lip between his teeth and dragging the ridge of his cockhead over my too sensitive clit.

I watch, heart racing, licking my puffy lips as he gets the condom. He makes quick work of putting it on, though his hand shakes slightly as he rolls it down his length.

He lowers himself over me, hips snug between my thighs. My stomach quivers as the heat and hardness of his erection presses against me.

Noah locks his eyes on mine, and everything fades away. Everything is quiet except for our breaths and skin brushing against skin and blood pulsing in my ears.

"Are you ready? Are you sure?" he asks, one hand wrapped around the base of his sheathed cock, swollen and shiny, the other light on my hip, gently rubbing circles over my tattoo.

I nod.

"I need to hear it."

"Yes. I'm sure, Noah."

He guides his cock down, dragging the tip of it through my folds, up to my clit and down toward my entrance.

I shiver.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes," I whisper.

He does it again. A zing of electricity makes me jolt when it grazes my still over-sensitive clit. He rubs a few more times, the head of his cock shiny and wet with my juices. I let out an exhale, my legs falling to the mattress, enjoying the sensation of it. But this time when he goes down to my entrance, he pushes it in, just the tip. He watches for my reaction as he does it.

"Oh," I moan.

"You okay?"

I nod.

He keeps eye contact as he pushes in farther. Another inch. Two. Stretching me as he fills me. It's weird. Different. Big. But while it feels wholly strange, it also feels right. More right than anything—him inside me. Us, as one.

He stills, lying over me, caging me with his arms.

I'm hot and wet and throbbing around him, and he's barely satiating the ache.

He kisses my nose then my lips. "I'll go slow," he says. "Tell me if you need me to stop."

I nod, swallowing, but inside I'm screaming for him to keep going. I want more of him. All of him.

He tilts his hips, pushing inside another inch.

"Fuck. You're so wet, Liv. It's hard to go slow."

"Don't go slow, then," I whisper.

He lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me deeply. Needy. I moan and suck on his tongue as he thrusts to the hilt.

I gasp.

"I'm all the way in. Still okay?"

"Yes." I'm breathing heavy, thankful he's not moving so I can get used to him.

He smiles, but his neck is tensed. He's straining holding himself back from me, about to break into a sweat.

"More," I say.

Leaning on one elbow, he grabs my hip with his other hand and squeezes my backside. Then he slides his hand down my thigh and lifts my leg, spreading me wider. He slips in even deeper.

"Oh, shit."

"Did that hurt?"

I shake my head. "Keep going."

"Wrap your leg around me."

I hook my leg around his back, and he eases out of me, never breaking eye contact.

"Keep breathing, there you go." He thrusts again, nice and slow. In and out. "Fuck. You're taking me so good, Livvy. Look how you're taking me, angel."

I look down, see the shaft of his cock disappearing inside me, making me feel exquisitely full, then pulling out, wet and covered in me.

"So fucking good for me," he coos.

I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close. We're nose-to-nose, and he kisses me again. Harder. We're skin-to-skin, our bodies entwined as he moves inside me. Frenzied breaths in the absence of space between us.

"You feel so good," he growls against my lips.

"Yes," I pant.

But then he pulls out, slipping away from me. I clutch at his forearm. "What?—"

"Shh." He slides down my body, down between my legs and kisses me there.

Oh.

"Your just-fucked cunt is so pretty, Liv. Red and puffy." He spreads my lips with his fingers and laps at my clit until I'm wild. Bucking under him, grinding against his face. I've never been this wanton.

I moan and cry out, cursing his name under my breath desperately trying to get air.

"Please. Noah. Please."

He looks up at me, sucking hard on my clit. "Please what? What do you need?"

I'm trembling. On the edge again. "You. I need you. Please."

"You want me to fuck you some more?"

"Yes."

"Well, I have to give my girl what she needs." He crawls back over me, his cock hard and nudging at me.

I dig my fingernails into his shoulder blades as he slides all the way back in.

"You still good?" he whispers against my neck and kissing me there.

"More than good."

He pulls back so we're face-to-face. We undulate, our bodies in sync, my hips meeting his thrusts in a steady rhythm.

Little gasps. Eye contact. Nose kisses.

I cling to him.

"I've got you," he says.

And everything else melts away. We move together, skin slick, his grunts low, my moans high and soft. Each stroke more intense, heightening every sense. The scent of him, the sounds of each breath, the taste of his lips laced with me. Everything in this moment is perfect.

"You're perfect," he says, voice strained and shaky. He dips his hand between us, the pad of his thumb slippery, circling my tender clit. "You going to come on my cock, angel?"

I've been dangling on the verge of another climax, about to go over at any moment.

"Yes." It's more of a plea.

"Good girl." He applies a little more pressure to my clit, while he pumps in and out of me slow. Slow and steady and deep. So deep.

All the sensations are overwhelming. His cock inside me, filling me, pulsing. His touch, his words, the way he's watching me as I come again. I clench around his cock as my climax hits, squeezing his hips with my legs and pulling him in. Closer. Deeper.

He leans in, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck, barely containing his strength. He drags his thumb over my jaw and around my throat as he dips down to touch his lips to mine.

"Tell me you're mine," he says, just above a growl, applying pressure to the sides of my neck.

He thrusts into me harder, his expression primal.

"I'm yours," I say.

"Mine."

Almost instantly, he's shuddering over me as he comes, his body tensing and flexing, emptying himself inside me.

He kisses me with trembling lips, our breathing both shaky and broken, our bodies still connected.

I comb my fingers through his hair and then to the sides of his face, holding it and looking into his eyes as the last few tremors of his climax roll through him.

We're still and quiet. Just us and the moonlight, and I want this moment to never end.

He kisses the tip of my nose, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and slowly pulls away, sliding out of me.

It's tender there, and as he leaves my body, I try not to wince.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" His face falls, cold panic in his eyes.

"No." I shake my head, but his expression doesn't change.

He gets up and disposes of the condom. "I'll be right back. Don't move."

After a moment, there's the rush of running water then he returns with a damp washcloth and kneels next to me on the bed.

"Spread your legs for me," he says gently.

He presses it between my legs, gingerly cleaning my inner thighs then higher. The washcloth is warm, the fabric a little prickly. It feels raw against me, and I whimper as he rubs it over my sensitive flesh.

"Fuck," he says under his breath. "I'm sorry if I was too rough with you, at the end. I was trying to be gentle and make your first time good, but I got carried away. It's hard to hold back, in that state."

"You weren't too rough," I say, but his mouth stays in a hard line. "It was perfect."

He lies down next to me, still pressing the cloth between my legs. After a few minutes he tosses the cloth to a nightstand and pulls the covers up over us. I settle on his chest, and he wraps his arm around me while stroking his fingers through my hair.

I close my eyes, listening to his heartbeat.

"I think I'll actually sleep tonight," he says, the timbre of his voice making his chest vibrate under my cheek.

I look up at him, but he's staring off, a million miles away. He told me months ago about how it's worse at night. That's always when the bad thoughts seep back into the foreground and keep him awake.

"Will you tell me what happened? I know about the accident, but not the details. Let me carry some of it for you."

He tightens his arm around me.

"I don't tell anyone about it. Obviously, my family knows. Wood. But that's it. I don't bring it up. Bex doesn't even know. It happened after we'd already broken up, and my parents and brother had moved a couple towns over, so it wasn't on the local news where you were."

He swallows hard, his pulse quickening. I give him a squeeze, staying quiet, giving him time.

His words come slow and soft. "Cam—Cameron, he was an amazing pianist. Like, genius-level. My parents wanted to put him in a fancy performing arts school when he reached high school, but me, being an asshole eighteen-year-old, didn't want to move right before my senior year. So, they let me stay with Wood's parents, and they went.

"It happened the fall after I graduated, right before my nineteenth birthday. They were coming back from a concert. It was raining. They were going over a bridge, and there was a large truck going the other way. It's unclear which vehicle crossed over the center line, but one of them did and they hit head-on. Their car went off the bridge and into the water. They all died."

He's quiet for a minute, his chest bobbing under me.

"The coroner's report found no water in my parents' lungs—they died in the impact. But my brother, in the back seat, he drowned."

An ice-cold sinking feeling slithers through my veins as my stomach drops. His insisting on giving me swimming lessons makes even more sense now. What I put him through at the lake?—

"Noah." I wrap myself around him as much as I can, not knowing what else to do or say.

He's not looking at me, but out the window. I tuck my head under his chin.

"He was fifteen," he whispers. "They all tried to reassure me that he was probably unconscious from the accident when they went under, but there's no way to know for sure. That's the worst part. Knowing he was alone. Wondering if he was scared. If he watched the water come in. Wondering if it would've been different if I had gone with them?—"

"Come here," I whisper, sliding up to hold his head to my chest.

He nuzzles down against me and wraps his body around mine. And I hold him. There's nothing I can say to make it better. Nothing he hasn't already heard, doesn't already know. He knows it's not his fault. That if he'd been in the car, it doesn't mean he would have been able to save them. Most likely he'd be gone too.

I hold him tighter, so thankful he wasn't with them, that he's here with me instead. And we stay like this, in the quiet, with the understanding I'll hold him for as long as he needs.