leaned in close, putting his lips to my ears, and whispered in a low voice that tickled my skin.
“I’m falling for you.”
I gasped at the sound of those words. The bloody gasp was so big, though, that it made me cough, which was a total mood killer, especially when I had to hit my chest a few times and push Noah aside to sit up.
“Uh . . . that either went down very well, or not well at all.”
I shook my head and then nodded. Still unable to speak. Then I put my hand on his chest and patted him. “Well! Well! It went down well, just down the wrong pipe!” I finally managed. “It went down well.”
“Okay. For a second there, I thought I might have jumped the gun.”
“No! No gun-jumping.” I smiled at him, I couldn’t stop myself. This bubble of something big and warm and tingly seemed to expand from my heart and fill my chest. “You know how it felt when we went through the eye of the tornado today?”
“Yes?” Noah replied.
“It feels like that.” The giddy, warm bubble that had filled my chest burst out of me and filled the room, wrapping us both up in it. We smiled at each other like giddy fools. Like we couldn’t stop ourselves.
“So, you want to watch Game of Thrones?”
I shook my head. “Noah, when I said I didn’t want to have sex, that’s all I meant.”
“Really?” he asked.
I nodded. “Just not sex. That’s all . . . I didn’t mean we should stop . . .”
“You didn’t?”
“No,” I said, and then lay back down flat on the bed, inviting him back.
CHAPTER 69
We picked up right where we left off. With that kiss that seemed to have the power to shift entire continents, and I felt like I was being transported into the pages of my very own romance book and writing all the words myself as I went. And this was the big sex scene, even though I wasn’t having sex, and that was okay, because this way my story, my scene, my moment and I was going to do it my way.
His hand slid down my body, and stopped at my breasts. He ran the tips of his fingers over my nipples. They hardly touched, like a breeze blowing over them, whooshing past, just grazing them. Grazing them enough, though, that when I closed my eyes and felt it, I wanted that feeling to never stop. Somehow if I could press pause on this moment, I would. Press pause on this feeling and live it in forever.
And then the fingertips weren’t so gentle anymore. Suddenly it was a squeeze. I flicked my eyes open at the delicious shock of it. From soft to hard. I inhaled sharply, breath getting stuck in my throat as he played with my nipples between his fingertips. Who knew this could all feel like this? All these parts of myself that had been dead and dormant for so long, seemed to have awoken and roared back to life with this simple touch.
He let my nipples go, they felt his absence immediately, and wanted him back. But they were gone, and his warm, wet fingers continued down my stomach and then stopped on my hip bone. He traced a small circle around my hip with his fingers. Once, twice, three times, his tongue too, circling my tongue, following the slow, languid pattern of his fingers until I was shivering with anticipation. And then he lifted his fingers off me gently and stopped kissing me. He looked down at me, a question in his eyes.
I knew what the question was and I was so desperate for him now that I didn’t think my mouth could form words. So I reached down, grabbed the back of his hand and pushed it between my legs. I heard myself let out a whimper as his hand cupped me there. Covering me completely. I tensed my muscles as he squeezed me. And then, when he eased the pressure, I let my legs fall open in total invitation. The cold air rushed over me and in me as everything parted for him. I watched him as his eyes went there. I watched as that stormy black cloud moved across his face, turning the blue of his eyes black as he stared at me, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to taste. Would I let him do that? Or would I do that to him?
And then he