Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Three

NOAH

Just my luck, the flight is delayed—another reason why I hate flying. I’m taking the red-eye back to California to finally take charge of my life. I know I want her. I just don’t know what I’m going to do or how to go about it. I thought that five hours on the plane might give me the answers I so desperately need, but between the screaming kids and the woman who excused herself a million times to use the restroom, I’m no closer to the desired outcome.

And five hours gives me too much time to think about Kate. I miss her, and I just left her. But I’m certain that all those feelings will disappear once Morgan is back in my arms.

I’m back to square one without a plan of attack on life in general.

What makes this non-plan more difficult is the fact that I have no idea where Morgan lives. The only person who can help me is Scarlett.

It’s late at night, just after eight, when I drive to her place and pull up to the gate. The guard calls the house, and Scarlett’s quick to let me in. As soon as I park the car, I step outside and walk with ease to her front door. Upon pressing the doorbell, she opens it within seconds, dressed only in a white negligee slightly covered in a matching white robe.

Fuck, she must have company.

My eyes narrowly avoid her ample tits, staring directly at her face instead.

“I’m glad you’re here, Noah.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, looking around. “You obviously have company.”

“No company, just you and me.”

It clicks, finally. And I’m at a loss of what to do. If you had placed me in this exact situation two months ago, I’d have bent her over the expensive marble hall table and fucked her pretty little ass. But she’s Morgan’s sister, and I’m failing to understand her eagerness to please me knowing what happened between us.

She places her hands on my chest, caressing my shirt, and releases a soft moan. “Noah,” she murmurs, her bright red lips teasing me. “I know you’ve fantasized about me. I know you pushed the book deal to get closer to me. Do you want me? I’m all yours.”

Scarlett pulls me by the hand toward the kitchen. Only the light underneath the cupboards is switched on, leaving the room quite dim. Sliding her robe off, Scarlett jumps onto the countertop, spreading her legs open, giving me a widespread view of her pussy. I stare, in shock, then shift my eyes nervously to the fridge.

What the fuck is going on here?

I’m never one to be rendered speechless, priding myself on my excellent skills in situations just like this, but I’m completely stumped right now. No different than a sixteen-year-old boy losing his virginity for the first time. Awkward Jim in American Pie would sum this situation right up.

Her hands find their way around my backside, pulling me in closer to her while my body stiffens on cue.

“Fuck me, here, on this bench. Make me scream your name,” she moans, tilting her head back.

Here, before me, is Scarlett Winters.

The most desired woman in the world.

Men want her, and women want to be her.

The same women who prompted this ridiculous bet with Charlie.

I grab Scarlett’s wrist and pull it to the bench, restraining her. Just as I’m about to ask her how she could betray her sister and expect me to follow, I hear a gasp behind me. I turn around, dropping her wrist to be met with Morgan’s hostile face.

“Morgan,” I call out as she runs from the room.

I sprint through the house, chasing her outside until I’m within reach and pull her arm, stopping her.

She begins to fight me, thrashing her arms about while yelling profanities. “Let me fucking go, Noah,” she cries as I try to restrain her

“Morgan, please. What you saw isn’t what you think.”

“You’re fucking my sister! I know what I saw!”

“I wasn’t fucking your sister. Please, Morgan. Look at me,” I beg, bending slightly, so our eyes are at the same level.

I can see the pain in her eyes, mixed with anger and hostility seeping through her veins as I clutch onto her hard. She’s dressed rather casually in a pair of jeans and a white tank, yet still looks as beautiful as the first day I saw her. I’ve missed her so much and wish she’d understand that I didn’t touch her sister and would rather be touching her.

I am making sweet love to her for the rest of my goddamn life.

She refuses to make eye contact but stills her body enough for me to be able to talk.

“I didn’t fuck her. Would you just fucking listen to me?”

“Why, Noah?” She removes her arm from my grip. “You choose never to listen to me. Then you give me an ultimatum. Why should I even think about listening to you?”

“Because I love you.”

There, I’ve said it.

The three special words I have never said to a woman before. And now that I’ve said them, I want to shout it out loud for everyone to hear. Relief washes over me, and I expect everything between us to be okay. After all, how can it not be since I’ve finally given her what she wants?

Her stare is wide and quizzical, her laugh that follows is strangely dark and disturbing. I’m confused by the way she’s reacting. Shouldn’t she be in my arms telling me she loves me too?

“You have a lot to learn about love, Noah.” She silences herself while watching my confused expression. “It’s quite easy to tell someone you love them. What’s difficult is actually showing someone you love them. And until this very moment, I’ve yet to see anything which would make me believe that you love me.”

I find myself pulling away, offended that she thinks my words mean nothing after I’ve finally confessed the truth. “And would the same not go for you, Morgan? What have you done to show me that you love me? You’re still married. And I’m pretty certain you still sleep in the same bed with your husband even after I found out the truth,” I say with distaste. “I should be asking you the same question.”

“You’re right. I’ve done absolutely nothing but carry the guilt inside for the last two months. I’m sorry you think that I’ve done nothing because, apparently, it’s never about me but rather about everyone else and what they want.”

Running my hands through my hair, it’s my turn to laugh at her comment at how frustrating she can be. “You can’t blame anyone else but yourself. You make the decisions. You dictate your own life. You can’t keep using everyone else as an excuse, Morgan.”

And as if I struck a chord, shaken her beliefs to the very core, she stares back at me with downcast eyes before the truth really does hurt.

“You know what, Noah? You’re right,” she says, confirming the truth. “I should live my life for me. Make my own decisions. And I’ll start by making one right now.” She moves closer, placing her hand on my chest to feel the beat of my heart. It’s beating rather loud, thumping like mad. And with just one touch, it begins to slow because her touch alone is what it’s been waiting for.

“I love you, but sometimes love isn’t enough,” she says faintly. “Walk away from me now. Figure out exactly what it is you want from me. Because I’ll tell you this…” She stalls her words, keeping my curiosity piqued. “If you come back to me and tell me you love me, I’ll take those words to heart and never let them go.”

I resist raising my hand to caress her face because I do love her. But throughout all this, she’s finally begun to understand me and knows that I need to do some soul searching because I can’t give her all of me right at this very moment. There are too many unanswered questions, and I need answers before I take her into my arms and never let her go.

I choose to walk away, not because I’m weak but because I need to find strength.

And two weeks later, I find it.