Chapter 17

Something has shifted. When Noah finally came back, not only did he reek of alcohol, but also he started acting very strange. At first, I thought he must be drunk, but he didn't seem to be inebriated in any way. It's as if someone else has invaded his body.

He's being kind. Not "kind" like he wants me to notice he's being kind and praise him for it, but truly, genuinely kind. He doesn't stare at me or make any dumb jokes—minus the occasional jab at me. It's like how it was before, only as friends instead of enemies. He pokes fun at my book, and I mock his dumb haircut. It feels right.

After a long evening of snacking and watching TV (with me on the couch and him on the armchair), we turned in amicably. He took the couch, and I took the bed. Everything was great, and I could finally, painlessly breathe again.

So, for the life of me, I can't figure out why in the hell I can't sleep.

No, that's not right. I know exactly why I can't sleep.

Noah, his name dances around in my head. I can't sleep because of Noah.

He's consumed my thoughts again, just when I thought I was finally rid of him. Have I mentioned I hate his dumb dimples? Because I really hate his dumb dimples.

This has to be some kind of curse. I finally got him off my back and now I want him right back on it.

How is he doing this to me?

I need a nice, long walk in the cold—outside, where I cannot be tempted by Noah Laurier.

I slide out of bed and pull on my sweater and shoes. I creep silently through the darkness of the bedroom into the pitch black den, where I move by memory to the door. I'm so close. I'm so torturously close. My hand is on the godforsaken handle.

And I can't do it.

I can't leave when this stupid man is right behind me on the couch, not when I want him so badly that I think my heart will literally explode if I don't see him right now.

I can't do this.

It's a bad idea.

It's cruel.

"Fuck it."

I march over to the couch and fall to my knees next to it. I can see his silhouette—his large, firm arms. His long, toned back. His sweet, boyish curls that reappear in the tossing and turning of the night. He's so handsome, it hurts.

"Noah," I murmur. My hands brush over his arm, tracing the tattoos that are just barely visible in the dark. I make around to his bare chest, running my fingers along five years that have been permanently inked beneath his skin—1981, 1982, 2009, 2011, 2014.

He purrs sleepily, head lolling over to face me. His eyes slowly flutter open, lashes dark against his pale skin. He smiles when he sees me, but then he seems to clock my hand making my way down his torso because he tenses up, his face pulling tight in confusion.

"Lucy, what are you?—?"

"Just one more time," I tell him. "One more time, then we part ways tomorrow and forget it ever happened."

Noah doesn't seem any more relaxed after I've finished speaking. If anything, he looks even more concerned. "No. No, you don't want this. You and I both agreed this isn't what we need right now. Let"s just take it slow and maybe get to know each other? I'd actually love to take you out on a da-"

I interrupt him before he can finish that thought and scramble my brain even more "I know what I said, and I meant it," I quip. "I can want to fuck you without wanting the rest of it, Noah. Is that alright with you?"

He doesn't seem convinced in the slightest. Actually, he seems angry. "This isn't fair to either of us, Lucy. You have to stop. If you don't want anything to do with me, that's fine, but you can't just wake me up in the middle of the night and tell me you want to use me one last time before we part ways forever. Do you know how fucked that is?"

I reel back. "Noah?—"

"You sure do love to talk big about me using you for your body, but that's exactly what you're doing to me right now. You're a goddamn hypocrite, Lucy. I'm sick of the back and forth and the indecision. One day with you has felt like months of stress piled on all at once." He shuts his mouth tightly and clenches his jaw. He's silent for an agonizing amount of time that leaves me feeling nauseous. When he speaks again, it's like he's putting the final nail in the coffin. "You made your choice, Luce. I thought that maybe I could change your mind—be nice and prove that I'm not who you've already decided I am—but there's no point, is there? I could win a fucking peace price and you'd still see me as a bad guy because everyone is a bad guy to you. No one is enough. I can't fix it because you don't want it to be fixed. So, please, just stop. You've made your point. You and me—we're nothing but a drunken mistake. Let's just leave it there, alright?"

He pushes himself off the couch and shoves past me, grabbing a jacket on his way out. He leaves the room, slamming the door so hard behind him that it rattles the walls. I start to rush after him, with every intention to pull him right back and not let him leave until this is fixed. But, before I can even make it halfway to the door, it flies open again and Noah storms through, tossing his coat onto the floor as he stomps up to me and pulls me into the most intense kiss I've ever experienced.

After a moment of pure shock, I sink into the kiss and let my hands find the nape of his neck, where his uncombed curls rest. I tug on them. Noah moans desperately into my mouth, and suddenly, I've awoken something in him. With the sexiest smirk I've ever seen, he dives into my neck. Kissing. Sucking. Biting.

I'm putty in his arms.

When he pushes me down onto the couch, I gasp in surprise. I get the feeling I'm in a little bit of trouble for the hell I've been putting him through. That he's letting out his frustrations on me. But I welcome it—eagerly.

He climbs on top of me, straddling my waist. He pants heavily, eyes glazed over and lips red and puffy. He looks so deliciously devious. I want him to corrupt me.

"Just for one night?" I test, and he nods quickly, without even the briefest hesitation.

"Just one night."

I take pleasure in knowing that this man—this handsome, strong man—knows just how to wrap me around his finger. I am completely under his control, whining and begging like a child. I wonder if he comprehends the effect he has on me. The look in his eyes tells me he does. Noah has undying power over me right now, and he"s loving it.

Usually, I take charge—in any situation. Noah has stolen the reins from me. He's creating the rules now, and he can make every fucking one of them. It's freeing for me.

And it looks so unbelievably hot on him.

I reach out to touch him but he snatches my wrist and yanks it away. He takes my other wrist as well and pins them both above my head. He stares at me, eyes hungry, taking in his prey.

"Noah…" I murmur, my voice thick. I can feel his dick hardening beneath the fabric of his shorts in satisfaction of making me say his name. My breath shudders and my arms are shaking in his grasp. His eyes flicker down to my lips where they linger, his gaze darkening. This is torture. Pure torture. He wants me to suffer. He loves it.

"Noa—" I try again, my eyes pleading. I try to grind my lower half against him. He pulls back so I can't.

"Uh, uh, uh," he reprimands, his hold on my wrists tightening. "Are you going to follow the rules, Lucy?"

I pout in desperation.

Wait—I think I know what he wants.

With the realization hitting me, I open my mouth into an O and make a noise from deep within my throat. "Yes, Sir," I sputter, just barely able to stop myself from moaning at the mere use of the title alone.

"Good." He presses his hardness against me. I struggle to not try for more relief for my pleading, waiting core. "Pretty baby," he purrs. His hands slide down my arms, to my neck and across my chest. He feels every inch of me, taking in every twitch I make under his touch. The more I squirm and groan in anticipation, the slower he goes. He wants me to know what it feels like to want something so badly that it physically hurts.

I can't take it anymore. I want to feel his skin against my skin. I want more. I need more.

I hold his hungry stare with my desperate one as I questioningly tug at the string of his shorts. In response, he scoops me up effortlessly and flips us so I'm the one on top of him. Then he nods toward his pants. I have his permission.

Finally.

In a hurry, wishing I could just tear them off instead, I undo the first knot of his shorts, then the next. I pull them down and off of his ankles, tossing them aside. I marvel at his nearly naked body. All that's left is a flimsy pair of briefs that hopefully won't be on him too much longer.

He's got the tiniest tattoo of a full moon on his right hip bone, like the X on a treasure map.

"What does this one mean?" I murmur, tracing the ink.

"It reminds me that I do what I want, when I want." His voice is low and thick. A shudder ripples through me. Jesus. "At the end of the day, the only things I have to answer to are the moon and the stars."

Normally, I wouldn't think it suits him. Normally, he cares too much about the needs of others over the needs of himself. But now, like this? It makes sense why he got it. I don't think he needs any reminding.

He continues, getting to his feet and pulling me into him, his hand cupping my backside, the other one lightly tracing the hem of my shirt. "And tonight, the only thing you have to answer to...is me."

I swallow, my breathing increasing. "Yes, Sir," I whisper.

He has me naked in seconds. Completely bare and exposed, standing before him as he gazes at me, taking in every inch of me. He pulls me into him and pushes us back at the same time until I'm pressed up against the wall, and he's pressed up against me in those goddamn briefs. His bulge is massive and pulsating as he pushes it teasingly against my throbbing pussy. He frustrates me to no end! But I have to be patient if I want to be rewarded. I know not to push it, or he'll prolong the teasing far beyond what I am capable of handling.

"Mmm," I breathe into his ear as he kisses my neck again, sending goosebumps down my body. Other parts of me are so desperate for his attention. And any other part of me he touches makes that desperation so much worse. It's his smell, too. His breath on my neck. The taste of his mouth when I kiss him back.

I've never before wanted a man so badly and simultaneously felt so wanted by a man.

"Tell me," He whispers into my ear. In response, I clutch his shoulders tighter, digging my nails into them. "What's got you so antsy right now? So whiny?"

"I—"

Sharply, he covers my mouth with his hand. "Better yet—show me."

I don't hesitate in the slightest. I take his hand and place it over the exact spot I've been dying to be touched by his bare skin—any part of his bare skin, as long as it's something. He responds just as I hoped, and his finger dips into my folds, feeling how much I want him. I gasp out as he uses his other hand to pull my hair and expose my neck so he can bite it again.

"Noah!"

"You're so wet, Luce."

I spread my legs wider for him, and he pushes into me. It"s earth-shattering. I can hardly think about anything but this. Him.

Wanting more.

I can't help myself as I roll against him, wanting to take over. To push him deeper. I want to take what I want and not be told no.

But it was the wrong move. Instead, his finger slips out of me.

"Please," I beg, wanting to hit myself for breaking his rule. I need him back inside me. Now.

I puff my bare chest out, wanting him to squeeze me. Feel me. Any part of me. Fuck!

He pulls me away from the wall and takes me over to the bed. I go to lay down on it, but he turns me so that I go down on my stomach. Then he grabs my hips and swiftly pulls my ass in the air.

Then he's not touching me again. Why why why?

But then he's back again, and when I feel his skin against mine, it's not his hands this time. It's him. He's naked, hard and ready, pressing it against me, but not sinking inside of me. We both moan. Me in a begging way—him in an excited one.

From behind, he slowly lowers himself on me, first his upper body, pressing us both into the bed, his breathing hot in my ear. His hand cups my breast. He squeezes it and drives me mad.

"Please, fuck me, Noah," I whisper and moan. "I can't wait any longer."

He kisses my neck, squeezes my body, and whispers back, "Only because you've been so patient."

And then, the sweet relief finally comes when he lowers the rest of himself into me, his dick massive and fitting me just right as he bites my ear.

"Holy fucking shit," he gasps out into my neck.

Holy fucking shit is right.