“Same thing that made me ask you why you’d never tried to kiss me before—I was curious. I wanted to know what it would be like.”
“And now that you know?”
She kissed my chest. “I’m glad I was brave enough to do it.”
“Me too. I’d been beating myself up ever since I dropped you off.”
“Really?” She picked up her head and looked up at me.
“Fuck yeah. You’d just basically told me to make a move, and I’d been too chicken shit to do it, despite the fact that I’d always wanted to.”
“So that part wasn’t bullshit.”
“None of it was bullshit. Every single thing I said to you this afternoon was true. I am worried about losing what we have. Because . . .” I told myself I had to be able to look her in the eye and say this. “I can’t make you any promises, Meg. I care about you, but what I said at dinner yesterday was true. I can’t be your boyfriend.”
“You know what? I just had one of those, and I can’t say it was much fun in the end. I’m looking for something else right now.”
Relief rushed through me. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“A good time. I’m only here for a week, and I don’t want to spend it wallowing in misery over my failed relationships or worrying about what’s down the road. I just want to be with someone I like and trust, and have some fun.”
“In that case, I’d like to apply for the position of that someone.”
“The position is yours, Deputy McCormick. But I warn you.” She sat up and swung her leg over me, straddling my hips. “I’ve got high expectations.”
“Is that right?” My hands moved up her thighs and ribcage, my thumbs flirting with her hard pink nipples.
“Yes.” Her eyes closed, her back arched, and she moaned as I sat up and brought my mouth to her breasts, teasing one stiff peak with my tongue.
“How am I doing so far?” I asked.
“Oh God,” she breathed as I moved a hand between her legs and drew little circles over her clit with my thumb. “It’s perfection.”
“As long as it’s not potato salad.”
Dropping her head back, she laughed breathlessly as she started to grind against me. “Not. Even. Close.”
Twelve
Meg
I hadn’t done it twice in one night since I turned thirty—and that was nearly four years ago.
And multiple orgasms? Forget it. I always considered myself lucky if I got one, and gifted by God if I got two. But Noah was a whole different level of sexual euphoria.
He was attentive. Talented. Patient.
He put my needs first, every single time.
But when it came to his own pleasure, he took it how he wanted it, and he wasn’t always gentle.
I fucking loved it.
By the time we fell back onto the sheets after round three, it was nearly two o’clock in the morning, and I knew Noah had to get up at six. “You’re going to hate me tomorrow,” I said, still trying to catch my breath.
“Nope.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “I’ll be tired, but I won’t hate you. In fact, I’ll be wondering when we can do it again.”
I giggled. “Fiend.”
“Sticks and stones, Sawyer.”
Smiling, I let my eyes drift shut and fell asleep next to him, my hand in his, my entire body humming.
I felt happy and beautiful and alive.
“Why don’t I call Chloe and see if she can pick me up on her way to Cloverleigh?” I asked Noah as he raced around his bedroom getting ready for work. I was dressed already, sitting at the foot of his bed, admiring him in his uniform.
“I’ll drive you,” he said, fastening his watch to his wrist.
“But you’re already running late, and it’s my fault!”
He stopped what he was doing, came over to the bed and kissed me. “I’ll drive you. End of discussion.”
I sighed and stood up. “Okay, fine. Can I do anything for you?”
He smirked. “Many, many things. But I’m just about ready to go.”
Downstairs, he collected Renzo and we piled into his SUV. On the ride to Cloverleigh, he held my hand and asked what I was up to for the day.
“I’m not sure, exactly. Sylvia gets in at some point this afternoon with her whole family, so probably some sort of family dinner tonight. It’s been years since we’ve all been together under one roof.”