by Lucy Score
“God. Yes. This,” Cat demanded, leaning into him. He closed his mouth over one of her nipples and sucked hard. She saw stars.
“Christ, I need more,” he rasped, he rose, plucking her off his dick. He slid free, and Cat stared at the evidence of her own arousal coating his wrapped cock. He pushed her, draping her facedown over the hefty ottoman. “Tell me if this isn’t okay,” he warned her as he settled between her spread legs. She accepted his weight against her and wriggled her ass. She was open, needy, more than a little desperate.
“So very okay.”
He slapped at her ass, the flat of his palm connecting with the round of her curves. She yelped, and he groaned deep and guttural.
“Fuck.” He drew the word out as he pushed his way into her. Cat felt the sharp ache as he hit bottom. “Am I hurting you?”
She shook her head, not trusting her voice. She didn’t need soft, tender words. She needed his body bruising and using hers. He shifted against her, pushing off from the floor and powering into her. Again and again, biology urging him on. Cat felt every inch of him as he drove into her and dragged himself out. She’d wanted to dominate him tonight, yet once again she found herself giving over to the moment, the craving to be taken.
This wasn’t her thing. She shouldn’t be feeling the edge of release already teasing her spine. Shouldn’t be shuddering as an orgasm built so quickly she feared she wouldn’t survive it. Noah shifted just a bit and pressed her thighs apart, opening her lips to bare her clit against the ottoman’s hideous plaid upholstery.
His next thrust dragged her clitoris and nipples against the material, and Cat cried out. The friction of the fabric, the depth of his thrusts, those short grunts of pleasure that worked themselves out of his throat. It all worked together in a symphony that carried her to a crescendo. It slammed into her, through her, molten like lava, fast like electricity. And Noah never slowed. He fucked her fast and rough through the shudders of pleasure that erupted in wave after wave.
“Noah!” She shouted his name as he owned her body.
His thrusts slowed, and he went stock still in her, every muscle, every cell tensed against her. The guttural, primitive noise came from his chest as Cat felt his cock pulse inside her. He fought it. The release that was inevitable.
“I need to see you, Cat. I want to see you, taste you, when I come.”
She was too weak to answer. He pulled out of her, and despite the climax that had left her wrecked a moment ago, she ached for more.
He pulled her up and arranged her on the couch, pillows at her back, legs open. When he ranged himself over her, Cat felt her breath catch. Was there anything in this world more lust-worthy than a naked Noah Yates professing all the ways he was going to take her? Desire, hard and dark, crystallized in his eyes. And when he pressed her thighs further apart and lowered himself between them, she felt the promised ache of soreness.
“Hold on to me,” he ordered.
She obliged, gripping his shoulders and pulling him to her.
“Fuck me, Noah. Hard. I want to feel you come.”
Surprising her with tenderness, Noah leaned down to nuzzle one breast and then the other. His teeth grazed her nipple, and Cat sucked in a breath.
“God you’re built,” he murmured, tongue brushing the sensitive tip. “I could do this all day.” The rough flat of his tongue dragged over her peak.
“No complaints here,” she gasped.
“I’d come too fast if I let you keep riding me,” he confessed. “Just watching your perfect tits puts me on the edge.”
Cat bucked against his hips. “Noah. Please?”
He probed at her core, and Cat relaxed her muscles, open and ready. The pulls from his mouth on her breast were echoing in her core.
“Once I start, I’m not going to be able to stop, baby.” He gave a testing push of his hips. “Once I’m inside you, I’m going to fuck you until I can’t stop coming. Until I fill you with everything I’ve got.”
“Jesus, Noah.” Cat wrapped her legs higher up his hips.
He gave her other nipple a lazy stroke with the flat of his tongue. “Don’t you love the anticipation?” His lips hovered over the bud that strained toward his mouth like a flower reaching for the sun. “It’s like Christmas Eve.”
When his lips closed over her bud, Cat cried out, and he slid into her in one powerful thrust. Her breast popped free from his mouth. And Noah let himself off the leash. It was what she wanted. Noah Yates beyond control. But she’d failed to anticipate being there herself. His hips slammed into her, his cock riding her slickness home. Cat could do nothing but hang on for dear life. The power in him, the rocketing of his thrusts into her core. She was dizzy with need, with desire.
“I’m never going to get enough of you, Cat.” He was panting, breathless, hammering into her with the single-minded ferocity of an animal.
She felt the sparks in her fingertips and toes. Felt the molten glow, volcanic as it began to move through her body. “Noah?”
“Come, Cat. Come on my cock. Milk it for me.”
How could a man so reserved, so responsible, turn into an animal, primitive and dangerous and dirty?
Her arms were vises holding him against her. Noah lifted her hips, adjusting the angle, and dragged the crown of his cock over that secret place of wanton pleasure. That bundle of nerves that turned detonator.
“Yes,” Cat hissed out the word.
“I can feel you, baby. I can feel you,” he chanted. “Don’t hold back.”
Cat squeezed her muscles around him, his erection brushing exactly the right spot again.
“Fuck.” Noah murmured as his thrusts changed, wild and powerful, taking what he claimed. It sparked bright, hot. She closed around him in involuntary pleasure, shouting his name. He was there with her, coming hard, loud. She gripped him with those hungry squeezes and felt him pour himself into her. Again and again until he collapsed on top of her, pressing her into the pillows beneath.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
They were still intertwined, Noah still inside Cat, when the knob of the front door jiggled. It had the same effect on his heart rate as an unexpected gun shot.
Noah jumped up, desperately searching for his pants as they both heard Sara calling from the front porch. “Dad! Are you there? I forgot my history book!”
He yanked his t-shirt over his head and dragged Cat up off the couch.
“You need to hide,” he hissed.
She blinked those cool hazel eyes. “What? Excuse me?”
“I haven’t told her that we’re… whatever. I don’t want her to get the wrong impression.” He pushed the naked Cat toward the kitchen, picking up articles of clothing as they went.
“Dad?” Sara called from the front door, ringing the bell and knocking.
“Where exactly am I supposed to hide?” Cat demanded. Her body was flush with marks from his mouth, his hands.
“It’s a big house. Pick a spot,” Noah shoved her down the hallway, and when he was sure she was out of sight, opened the door as casually as possible.
Mellody took one look at him and clapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. He didn’t feel an ounce of amusement at her coughing fit.
“Geez, Dad. You never lock the door. Why’s your shirt on backwards?” Sara asked, as she brushed past him. “I forgot my history book, and I’ve got this essay due on Monday.” She took the stairs two at a time.
He looked at his ex-wife and opened his mouth. But there were no words.
“Looks like we caught you at a bad time,” Mellody said, amused.
“Maybe try texting next time,” Noah suggested spinning his shirt around. It was on straight now but inside out.
“Please tell me it’s Cat,” Mellody demanded.
“What makes you think—”
There was a thud from the kitchen followed by some colorful swearing.
“Sure sounds like her,” Mello
dy observed, wandering into the living room and picking up a size seven work boot.
“I don’t know what the etiquette is for this,” Noah admitted. “I don’t want Sara to think…”
Mellody waved away his concerns. “Noah. You’re an adult. A good one. Relax. It’ll be fine.”
“I don’t want her to think casual sex is the right answer to—”
Sara thundered down the stairs, textbook triumphantly aloft. “Found it!”
“Great. Now let’s go write an essay about Patrick Henry,” Mellody said with feigned enthusiasm.
“You okay, Dad? You look kinda sweaty,” Sara observed.
“All good. Everything’s fine. I’m fine,” Noah choked out.
“Are you sure?” Sara gave him the suspicious eye.
He felt like a teenager caught trying to sneak in after curfew.
“Hey, whose jeans are those?” Sara asked, pointing at the couch.
Mellody clamped a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Come on babe, your dad looks like he could use some rest,” Mellody announced, pushing Sara toward the door.
“Bye, Dad!” Sara called over her shoulder as she was hustled out of the house.
“Bye, Noah.” Mellody gave him an exaggerated wink as she closed the door behind her.
“Bye,” Noah said to no one.
He laid a hand over his pounding heart and took a moment to breathe. Nearly busted by a 12-year-old. That was something new and horrific for him.
He didn’t want Sara to get the impression that casual sex was a good, safe option. He’d prefer if she stuck with abstinence until around thirty. People tended to make better choices after thirty. Himself for instance. He’d just hooked up with Catalina King, the sexiest woman on the planet… who, judging from the noise, was hiding in his pantry.
He pulled the door open, and Cat hid behind an outstretched t-shirt.
“It’s me,” he said, wondering if the situation was actually funny or if he was just hysterical.
Cat glared at him. “Are they gone?” she asked. Her underwear was on backwards. Her thermal shirt gave enough away for Noah to notice she hadn’t found her bra in the living room, and he counted his lucky stars that Sara hadn’t spotted it. Her hair was a wild mess of finger combed snarls.
“They’re gone.”
She pushed past him muttering about pants and boots.
“Cat, where are you going?”
She whirled on him in the hallway. “I don’t hide, Noah. I’m not something to be ashamed of.”
She yanked her jeans off the sofa and pulled them on with violence.
“Hang on!”
She grabbed a boot and Noah wrestled it out of her grip. She couldn’t very well leave the house with no shoes.
“Gimmie the boot, Noah,” she ordered.
“Sit your ass down first and talk,” he countered.
“You want to talk? Okay. I get that you’re not ready to discuss this with Sara, I do. But you made me feel cheap. Like I was something to be ashamed of. I am neither of those things. Now give me the fucking boot.”
She reached for it, off balance, and Noah pushed her onto the couch. With no other options, he lay on top of her, pinning her.
“Noah! I swear to God—”
He clamped a hand over her mouth. “Shut up a second, will you? Christ, Cat. How could you think for a second that I think you’re something to be ashamed of?”
“You made me hide in the pantry.” She said it as if he were half deaf and a whole lot stupid.
“Sara is twelve years old. She’s never met anyone that I’ve… dated.” He was at a loss to describe just exactly what he and Cat were doing. “I haven’t done much… dating. So, I don’t know what’s acceptable to expose a child to. And you know me. I always err on the side of caution.”
Cat went still beneath him, and tentatively, Noah removed his hand. “Fine,” she said coolly.
The strength she possessed in that long, lean body always surprised him as it did now when she managed to shove him off of her and onto the floor. She pulled on her jeans with temper and snatched her bra out from under the coffee table.
“I didn’t realize you had such issues with casual sex,” she snapped out.
She wasn’t fighting fair when she shucked off her shirt and dragged on her sports bra.
Frustrated, Noah shoved his hands in his hair. “Just because I don’t want Sara to think that it’s okay. That’s what upsets you?”
She gave him a long look. This one wasn’t cool. There was fire behind those eyes.
She shoved a foot into a boot. “What are we doing here, Noah?” she asked reaching for the laces.
“Having mind boggling sex. Enjoying each other.”
“Having mind boggling casual sex,” she pointed out, lacing the boot and searching for its mate.
“I’m new at the whole casual sex thing.”
“That’s the point. You’re not a casual sex kinda guy, and I’m not a serious relationship kind of girl.”
“I’m trying—”
“Maybe we shouldn’t be trying. You obviously have some kind of judgment about the way I choose to live my life. And it’s not like I’m going to be here much longer.”
Noah was at a loss. He didn’t understand how he could go from feeling sated and whole to panicked. It slid through his gut like ice. “I don’t want you to go.” He wasn’t just talking about tonight.
“And I don’t want to be in a relationship. I’m not going to make room for something like that right now. So, I guess we’re at an impasse.”
She made it to the door before he gathered his wits. He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. And when she wouldn’t stop struggling against him, he pressed her to the door and did the only thing that came naturally. He kissed her.
She went stock still beneath him, and then her mouth came to life. She ravaged him. She reached into his body and grabbed on to his soul, and he let her. Their tongues tangled, teeth dragging, breath sighing.
He was hard again and oh so desperate for what only Cat could give him.
And then she was pushing him back a step. He let her this time. He needed the space, the air.
“I’m not going to let you make me feel bad about how I live my life. I choose what sexual relationships I want to have. And five minutes ago you were at the top of that list. But there’s no room on that list for someone who doesn’t respect me,” Cat said quietly.
“Cat just because I don’t want Sara to—”
Cat cut him off. “I have to go.”
And just like that, she slipped out the door leaving Noah alone in his big, empty house.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“What exactly did he say again?” Paige asked, guzzling a coffee and staring at Cat. They were huddled together over the playback monitor under a tent that offered zero protection from the icy fingers of winter that danced down Mistletoe Avenue.
She looked confused, which is not where Cat wanted Paige to be. She wanted her firmly in her camp, irate at the insinuation that had been so natural to Noah it had flown over his head.
“It wasn’t necessarily what he said. It was the way he said it. As if Sara knowing he was having sex with me would be worse than nuclear war. He was implying that I’m a slut.”
Her sister-in-law raised a finger, and Cat knew she wouldn’t like the words that would follow. “Let’s examine that,” Paige said.
“Stop being documentary director Paige, and be best friend Paige,” Cat ordered.
“First of all, if Noah said or did anything to hurt you, I’m first in line with the baseball bat for the Noah piñata.”
“Thank you,” Cat said, raising her hands to the sky.
“Now, once that the figurative Noah bashing is over, let’s look at his reaction from his side.”
Cat rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Don’t get defensive,” Paige told her. “Noah�
��s a single dad with a twelve-year-old girl. Do you remember what you were like at twelve?”
Cat shrugged. “Awesome.”
“Of course, you were. You were what? Playing baseball? Following your grandfather around job sites?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Great. What about thirteen and fourteen?”
Cat couldn’t stop the nostalgic grin. “Boys. I discovered boys.”
“Aha!” Paige was triumphant. “And how many good decisions did you make at that age?”
Cat wrinkled her nose remembering the incredibly stupid make out sessions, the desperate love notes, the heady delight of a new crush. “Pass.”
“I figured,” Paige grinned. “As a mother of a new human being, I’m dreading those years. Your body is coming of age, but your brain is light years behind. You don’t understand consequences. You aren’t capable of predicting the outcomes of your decisions. Parents spend those years trying to prevent you from making any kind of decision that could have life-altering complications.”
Cat slumped in her parka. She hated when Paige made sense.
“Now, you, my beautiful, talented, smart, hard-working sister-in-law, make choices that fit your life. You enjoy a healthy and safe sex life that doesn’t require the boundaries of marriage. You have your healthy, safe sex with single men who respect you and vice versa. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, and anyone who tries to shame you for it is jealous. But the difference is, you’re thirty-two. Not twelve.”
“I have the ability to pick the right partners because my hormones aren’t careening around in my head begging me to do really stupid things.” Cat kicked at a rock.
“Exactly. Sara’s a smart kid, but she’s about to be a hormonal smart kid, and parents will do whatever it takes to keep those hormones away from decisions. Religion, scare tactics, shaming. And maybe it’s not the best way,” Paige shrugged. “But when you’re in charge of keeping another human being alive and on track, you do what you have to do.”
