All my desire for her converged inside me demanding release, and as I reached the breaking point, my eyes shut tight, my breath ragged and rasping, my jaw clenched, I imagined her body arched above me. I came hard and fast onto my own stomach, groaning as I thought about how good it would feel to come inside her, to make her come with me, to feel her body ripple and pulse, hear her softly sighing my name.
God, I wanted her. I fucking wanted her. I’d never wanted anyone so badly in my entire life.
But did I want her badly enough to risk losing her?
Eight
Meg
I drove home feeling exhilarated, happy, and . . . confused.
The entire night had been so much fun, but something had felt off at the end. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was or when it had happened, but Noah was definitely different when we said goodnight. Tense. Quiet. Almost like he was nervous.
But why? What had changed?
I racked my brain the whole way home. Was it something I’d said? Had I asked too many personal questions? Had I poked too deeply into his breakup with Holly? I knew guys didn’t enjoy talking about their feelings like some women did, but Noah and I had always been able to talk openly about things.
And I still couldn’t believe the selfish way his ex had behaved. Generally I didn’t like to judge people I didn’t know, but honestly, I didn’t feel that guilty for judging Holly. Noah had always been protective of his brother—protective of everyone. From the day they met, I was certain she would have known that. It was one of the sexiest things about him.
He was definitely better off without her.
After parking my dad’s car in the garage, I let myself into the house, locked the door behind me, and trudged up the stairs to my room. That’s when I realized that I’d forgotten to give Noah his hoodie back. Sighing, I took it off and tossed it onto the back of a chair. I’d return it tomorrow morning.
After plugging in my phone and setting the alarm, I laid out my running clothes for the morning and got ready for bed. But when I slipped between the sheets, I was too restless and uneasy for sleep.
I wished Noah had invited me in. Maybe he’d have admitted what was bothering him at the end of the night. Maybe we could have talked more about it. Maybe we’d have sat close together on his couch and laughed some more about first kisses. First times. Fantasies.
Maybe, I thought, my skin beginning to hum, I would have put my hand on his thigh. And maybe he would have leaned a little closer. Maybe we would have kissed, and it would have been our first time.
I couldn’t deny that I’d been thinking about it tonight. Because even though being with him had that familiar cozy feeling, that whole big-brother-little-sister vibe we used to have was gone. Instead, there was something else between us tonight. Some kind of chemistry that had only simmered beneath the surface before. And I liked it.
Before I knew what I was doing, I got out of bed and grabbed his sweatshirt, bringing it back to bed with me. I slid beneath the covers again and brought it to my face, hoping it still smelled like him.
It did. I closed my eyes and breathed him in.
My right hand moved down my stomach, inching inside my underwear. I felt a little ashamed at first, like getting myself off to the idea of Noah was something I shouldn’t be doing in my parents’ house, but as soon as I began to touch myself, I got over it.
Fuck it, this was my room, my bed, my body. If I wanted to get off with Noah in my head, it was my business. Maybe it would never happen in real life, but my mind was my personal playground.
I’d never fantasized about Noah before. Not that I did this very often, but when I did, my go-to dudes were nameless, faceless people I wouldn’t have to worry about facing the next day at Starbucks or the gym or the office. Cowboys. Firemen. Knights in shining armor.
Tonight, however, no anonymous hero would do. Tonight, the body above me, the hands on my skin, the tongue between my legs, the cock sliding inside me, belonged to Noah.
And he was fucking fantastic. He knew exactly what to do, how to touch me, what to whisper