After the Storm Page 14

  “How did you meet?”

  “You really want to know this? Why?”

  “Because I’m trying to figure out why someone would let you go. I’m not an idiot. I know everyone has their shit, but I’ve been around you long enough to see what you’re about. I see how happy you could make—someone.”

  He stumbles on his words but the sentiment is there. So sweet, so genuine, so Noah. “We met in high school, fell in love, got married shortly after graduation. It was all fine and dandy until we started trying to expand our family. Ultimately, I think it was my issue that sent him running. He wanted kids and I couldn’t give them to him. I tell myself it was a fair reason and I try not to hate him for it, but I do. I guess it’s human nature to hate someone who hurt you so badly.”

  Narrowing his blue eyes to examine my face, he asks, “Can I ask you something personal? I don’t want to overstep, but I’m curious.”

  I know what he’s about to say. It’s the same thing all the doctors, my parents, my friends asked me when they found out about my childless fate. “Why didn’t we adopt? That’s what you want to know, right?”

  He purses his lips and nods.

  I take a deep breath. This explanation needs one. “I looked into it. I didn’t want to adopt from overseas. It was hard enough to accept that my child would never look like me because it wouldn’t share my DNA. So, foreign agencies were out of the question for me. I researched adoption in the US and the process was grueling. Something I just couldn’t handle at the time.

  “I went through a major depression after I got the initial news. That strained our marriage—big time. When I started showing signs of improvement, the damage had already been done. I shut him out when he mentioned adoption and other alternatives because I was too weak to handle it. I had become accepting of the fact I wouldn’t be a mother and wanted to focus on our marriage. Kurt had already given up on that—said I was broken, a different person. I fucked it up. I can’t blame Kurt; no one can. This is my mess, and honestly, I’m okay with it now. It sucked to find out about him moving on and getting what he wanted, but I can’t begrudge him that. I can’t hate him for my faults.”

  Wow! It feels good to get that off my chest. I haven’t even been this candid with Sloane, but I hate that Noah’s on the receiving end of my pitiful confession. This is so not first date conversation. After such a thrilling experience at home, I’m done with the sad shit. I want to know more about the man with the magic tongue. I cut him off before he can respond to everything I just dropped on him. “No more Kurt or baby talk. Let’s talk about you. I want to know more, besides all the crappy girl stuff that sent you running. What makes Noah Matheson tick?”

  Looking up from his plate, he licks a dab of cocktail sauce from his lips and smiles. “You make me tick, Willow. When I’m around you . . . my pulse pumps thicker, my head spins faster, and my dick grows harder than it has for any other woman.”

  “Well, when you put it that way—want to get the check?” I wink at my date and search the room for the waitress.

  He laughs in response, his throaty chuckle stabbing my sex with need. “I love how you think, but we haven’t even eaten yet. And the best is yet to come.” Noah glances at his wristwatch. “In about thirty minutes, this place livens up. You’ll see. You won’t want to leave.”

  I lean across the table, caressing his hand, and narrowing my gaze on his dilated eyes. “But we can liven things up back at my place. Pick up where we left off.” When did I become so brash? It has to be a Noah effect. I’ve never been so vocal with my desires.

  “Oh, I plan to revisit that dining room table. Sprawl you out for dessert, maybe even breakfast tomorrow morning. But for now—” He squeezes my hand before flashing another panty dropping grin. Oops, forgot, you’re not wearing panties, didn’t ya? “Let’s enjoy each other with our clothes on, because there will come a time when we might as well burn all our belongings. I can’t wait to have you naked—all the time.”

  I’m so not hungry for food. Unless the menu includes Noah’s big, juicy—“My thoughts are sending me right to hell with a first class ticket.”

  Noah shrugs, clearly oblivious to my dirty thoughts. “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints. How about you?”

  “Highway to hell, baby.”

  We laugh our way through our salads, chatting effortlessly until dinner arrives. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a band setting up on a stage in the sand. “There’s a band? Oh, you sneaky man. Cover bands are my weakness.”

  “I thought I was your weakness.” He winks and takes a sip of his chardonnay.

  “Well, besides that. What do they play?”

  “Country Pop. My favorite.”

  “You really are a cowboy at heart, huh? I have to say, I’m surprised. I took you for an alt rock kinda guy. You grew up in the 90’s, no?” I don’t know his exact age, but it’s somewhere in the early to mid-thirties.

  “And you grew up in the heart of the millennium, but you listen to The Beatles. Music doesn’t judge, that’s the beauty of it. That, and it changes with a mood. The way you’re making me feel tonight, I’d be game for a rave, but I don’t think these guys have that in them.”

  I allow a smile to dance across my lips, and anticipation swirls in my belly. “Confession time. I’ve been listening to the station that was on in your car when you dropped me off last night. All day. I didn’t realize how expressive and soulful a song about pontoons and six packs could be.”

  “Are you mocking my favorite genre, darlin’?” His southern cowboy impression tugs at my already melting core.

  “Nope, I’m being serious, Tex. I added some to my iPod too.”

  “Cool. I bet you’ll know a bunch of the covers tonight, then.”

  “Only time will tell.” I scoop up the last of my filet of sole with my fork before pushing my empty plate aside. “How much longer? I’m antsy. My feet are already tapping to silent music.”

  Noah scratches his chin, nodding in the direction of the band. “I tell ya what. Since we’ve already decided on dessert back at your place,” he winks, “why don’t I get the check, and you head down to the beach to grab us a spot on the dance floor?”

  “Done.” I swipe the napkin across my mouth, snatch my purse from the empty chair, and lean down to kiss Noah smack on the lips. “This has been a great date so far. Thank you for dinner, and in case I’m too amped up from all the southern charm and the moonlight to tell you later—thank you for a date I’ll never forget.” I linger at his lips, pressing my nose against his. His breath hitches as he fingers my hair with his hands and growls softly against my mouth.

  “I should thank you, beautiful. But let’s save those for later. I can already picture you moaning the phrase, and my name, over and over again when I bury myself deep inside you.”

  Forcing my legs to walk in the direction opposite the man who has the rest of my body begging for more of him, I clutch my chest and march off to the beach to save us a place on the dance floor.

  “This band is amazing!” I’m bopping to the beat and have to shout to be heard over the loud music.

  Noah dances closer to tie his arms around my waist, and speaks into my ear, “Guess I did good?”

  “So damn good. Better than good. We’re talking excellent!” I reach up to kiss him on the cheek in appreciation, but he moves his face so our lips smack together.

  The connection is heavenly, especially garnished by the electrifying music. Our bodies sway in time to the song as our kiss deepens. His hands contour the curve of my spine, gently palming my back and awakening my skin. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck tingles to attention, my arousal both physical and emotional. My nipples pebble, grazing the light fabric of my bra, and slick heat overwhelms my sex, alerting me of my neediness. “Can we go now?” I pant, practically melting in his grasp.

  “But I thought you were having an excellent time.” His nose brushes my flushed skin, tempting me further.


  “I am, but I want you, Noah. There, I said it. I’ve wanted you since you kissed me last night. Actually way before that. Probably that first week after you hired me. I’ve been patient. More patient than most considering how strong these impulses have been and how long I’ve ignored them. But now—I can’t wait anymore. Take me home, take me to bed, and take my body until I’m screaming your name.”

  “I thought you’d never fucking ask.”

  Miraculously we arrive back at her place in one piece. If I could have driven with my feet I would have, just to keep touching her. We kissed at every red light, and when they turned green again her hands never left my lap, rubbing my cock over my jeans. I’ve never had a hard-on throb so frantically. I’m so desperate for release that once the car’s in park, I fling the door open and rush to the passenger side to pull her out.

  “Thank God we’re finally here!” I growl as if we just drove cross country for days.

  She fumbles through her bag for her keys, her lips still locked with mine in the hungriest kiss I’ve ever experienced. “Noah,” she breathes, “let me just—there they are!” She pulls out the jingling mess of metal and drags me inside by my shirt once the door is unlocked.

  “Bedroom or dining room? I know you’re fond of my table.” Her hands are already inside my pants, my brain is a fuzzy haze of blood pumping stimulation.

  “Here.” I don’t even know where we are, but all I can think about is pounding into her until my brain agrees with my dick. The head on my shoulders has been in charge for too long. It’s warring with the one in my pants about why this might be wrong, but I honestly don’t give a fuck. Not just because I’ll explode if I don’t get inside that sweet pussy of hers, but because I really like this woman. She makes me happy. One date and I know I’ve made the right move by overstepping professional boundaries and telling caution to take a flying leap.

  “I have no objection to being fucked right here in the entryway, Noah, but I think you’ll find my bed quite comfy. Come on. It’ll take less than thirty seconds to get up there.”

  With an exaggerated grunt, I toss her over my shoulder. “I bet we can make it in twenty.”

  She giggles as I race up the stairs.

  “Left or right?” I ask at the top step.

  “Second door on the right.”

  I follow her directions and kick the door open. The room is dark, lit only by the streetlamps filtering in through her drawn curtains. I’m sure the space is beautiful like the rest of her house, but I’m not thinking about that shit right now. I lower her from my grasp, down where it’s easier to abduct her mouth with my tongue. Pulling back for a brief moment, I confess, “You won’t get any compliments on the décor until later, baby. I don’t care if it’s silk, Egyptian cotton, or polyester . . . get on that bed and let me do what I’ve been dying to do all night.”

  “My pleasure.” She walks backwards to the bed, shedding her dress as she moves. The dim lighting glints off her skin in all the right places. It accentuates the fullness of her tits as they overflow from that little black number that has my mouth watering. My eyes drop to her lace covered pussy, but not before I admire the smooth skin of her flat stomach and the ridiculously sexy length of her legs.

  “God, you’re gorgeous, Willow.” I go in for the kill, crazy with need, lunging for her with my hands, my mouth, and my cock all ready to get their fill.

  I waste no time settling between her legs and grinding my erection against her slick opening. “Don’t go slow,” she breathes against my neck.

  Holy fucking hell. Those are the hottest words I’ve ever heard. I don’t even know how to respond without sounding like an animal. So I answer with my body, showing her I have no intention of being gentle. I pull my shirt over my head, toss it aside, and unzip my pants. The heels of Willow’s feet do the rest of the work and push my jeans down my legs. I kick those aside as well. While I’m bent to remove my socks, I nibble the bend of her knee. “You smell delicious.” I inhale her addictive scent. “And I don’t mean your lotion. I can almost taste the nectar dripping from you, Willow. Like a peach. A sweet, juicy, succulent peach.”

  “Why don’t you have another taste, then?” she teases, arching her hips off the mattress and enticing me. She spreads her legs, kneading her breasts over her bra.

  “Oh, I plan to make you come for me again, beautiful. I’m gonna be greedy and drink up every last drop, but not before your tight, wet pussy milks my cock and alleviates this fucking ache. I’m aching for you, Willow. Do you feel what you do to me?”

  Exploring, she reaches between her legs and dips two fingers inside her panties. Once they’re slick with her arousal, she coats the head of my dick with it, causing me to groan. “Fuck!”

  “Oh, I feel it. Now, give it to me. Don’t make me beg, Noah.”

  Her demand makes me senseless, like a puppy obeying rules from his master. I reach for my pants to retrieve the condom from my back pocket, rip the wrapper open with my teeth, and roll it on. Spreading her legs by the knees, I tug her panties to the side. They’re sopping wet, drenched with her need for me. It makes me even harder. Guiding myself inside her, I slap my tip against her clean shaven lips and revel in the gasp that escapes her. My balls draw up at the sound of her mewling beneath me. Unable to take another second of torment, I plunge inside her, never breaking eye contact.

  “Ohhhh. Yes,” she sighs, digging her heels into my ass and urging me deeper. A voracious smile spreads across her swollen lips as her head falls back, exposing the soft hollow of her throat. I lean forward to lick it as I rock into her with sharp thrusts. My swollen cock stretches her tightness; it welcomes me, inviting me further and further until I’m balls deep in her warmth.

  “You feel incredible.” I manage to speak, breathless and dizzy from the waves of satisfaction coursing through me. It seems Willow’s pussy is a drug, pulling me under its alluring spell and hooking me like a junkie. I’m already addicted, and wouldn’t mind overdosing on her potency. I wonder if she feels the same, letting herself go in every way possible, giving in to the power of our connection. I look up from kissing her neck to gauge her expression, but it takes a moment for my vision to clear—I’m completely high off this woman. When I can see straight again, I focus on the bliss written across her features. “Willow, look at me.”

  Her eyes snap open, dark and lazy with desire, and her breathing becomes more rapid as I pick up the pace, slamming into her again. She shuts her eyes when I slide in to the hilt, and I command again, “No. Open them. I want you to see me, what you to do me, how you make me feel.”

  She obeys, flashing her mood-ring gaze at me with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. Her intense expression grazes that thin line between pleasure and pain. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” She hasn’t complained. In fact, she’s welcomed every thrust, vining her legs around my back as though I can’t get deep enough. But I still want to make sure she’s okay.

  “No, you’re not hurting me.” She laughs, a glint of embarrassment flickering on her face. “It’s—it’s fucking intense. And so good, and so—I’m gonna come, Noah. I tried to wait for you, but, Jesus—it’s just too good.”

  I want nothing more than to come apart together, but I have no objection to letting her go first and owning another of her orgasms. “Don’t wait for me, baby. I’m sure when you explode for me, I won’t be too far behind.”

  Her pleasurable moan sounds like a sigh of relief, a satiated smile paints her lips. Wanting her to climax now more than ever, I position myself above her, my feet still anchored to the floor. I push her bra over her generous breasts to reveal pink beaded nipples that beg to be touched. With a pinch of them between my fingertips as I glide in and out of her, her walls clench around me like a vice.

  “Oh. Yes. Noah. Yes!” Her hips roll in time with mine, compelling my own shuddering spasm. I cry out her name, gripping her thighs as I she drains me dry.

  My lungs need air; my muscles craving reprieve. I collapse on top of her,
kiss her warm lips, her flushed cheeks, her damp forehead. “Amazing. Fucking amazing.”

  Her chest heaves with each slowing breath. I try to relax my own. She brushes my sweaty hair off my forehead with trembling fingers. “Although I agree—we are pretty fucking amazing together—that’s the best you can do to describe it?”

  I’ve never had a woman request the proper terminology for fucking her brains out, but I play into her game. I love what it feels like to satisfy her. “Okay, amazing is kind of broad. What about Earth shattering?” I settle next to her on the bed, an arm draped around her half-naked body.

  “Cliché. You can do better.” She adjusts her bra and turns to face me, our noses inches apart.

  “Intoxicating?”

  “While that’s definitely true—I’m still looking for more.”

  I almost blurt out, so am I, but admitting feelings during sex isn’t a smart move. There’s no denying I want more of anything Willow’s willing to give, but now’s not the time to come clean about that. “Since my fucked to oblivion brains are still scrambled by the way you just rocked my world, why don’t you give what we just did a suitable name?”

  She arches a brow, her finger taps her kiss-swollen bottom lip as she contemplates. I inch closer for a taste and then lay back on the pillow to admire her post-orgasmic, trying-to-be-a-smartass expression. “You know how they say patience is a virtue?”

  “Yes, Pinterest Queen. Do you have a virtue board to go with your porn board?”

  She whacks my arm with a giggle-huff. “You’re ruining my moment, jerk. And it’s not porn!”

  “Whatever you say.” I roll my eyes and flash her my most devilish smile. She’s so cute when she’s embarrassed. Almost as cute as she is when she’s coming on my cock.

  “What we just did was worth-the-wait sex. We danced around our attraction for a while now, at least I have. I pretended that I could just be your employee and maybe even your friend, but the more I got to know you the more I hoped we’d wind up right here, just like this.”