Before I Fall

by Jessica Scott

  "I'd like that." A promise in those words, a promise that I cannot wait to unwrap slowly, so slowly.

  She slips her hand up my belly and I immediately miss the warmth of her touch. "So. Stats?"

  I nod, my mouth dry, my erection painful. I have no clue how I'm supposed to think about anything other than her naked and writhing in my arms, but there are probably worse problems to have.

  She sits in one chair; I take the other. Our thighs are touching and we are shoulder to shoulder as we lean over my textbook.

  She explains confidence intervals in a way that actually penetrates the sexual haze in my brain and makes sense. I do a couple of problems by hand, and she checks my work. I like having her watch me. Knowing that she's making sure I'm getting it right.

  Sitting here and scratching out equations, I focus on the mental energy required to make sense of it. The reward is the gentle press of her thigh against mine. Not erotic at the moment. Comforting. Steadying.

  Holding me upright when I could fall away amid the fear of failing, falling flat on my face. I'm working now, and the problems are clicking in a way they've never clicked before. Like the language is suddenly making sense.

  She corrects me when I make a mistake, the tapered point of her fingertip gliding over my chicken scratch writing. I glance over at her. She's focused and serious Beth now. She meets my gaze, and her cheeks flush.

  "I love seeing you blush." The truth, I decide, is probably the best track with her. Her flush deepens. "It's true. You've got this amazingly pale skin that turns this gorgeous pink." I lean closer because I cannot help myself. "I want to see how far down your body it goes."

  She offers a throaty laugh then taps the paper. "Focus." But she's smiling, the first time I've really seen her smile since I've met her.

  I do as she asks, and I work through the other problems she's assigned as extra work. I'm motivated now, not just to get them done and get them correct, but to get through them so maybe I can steal a few more moments of her time before she has to leave.

  There are so many things competing for her. Her dad. Her work. School. I'm selfish enough to want my own time, my own space. More than a few hours a week of tutoring.

  She's not there yet. Patience. I need a plan. I need to find a way to become part of the space in her life.

  Because she is more than fire in my arms.

  She's life. And I crave her more than breathing.

  Chapter 14

  Beth

  We actually managed to do his work. I’m kind of amazed that we accomplished anything but somehow it happened. I head to the pharmacy and pick up my dad's prescriptions with the money Noah pays me.

  I don't let Noah drive me. He wants to, but his car is in the other direction off campus and I'm already halfway to work with the detour by the pharmacy. I promise to wait for him at the end of my shift. I'm not closing tonight, which means I'll be done by ten.

  I call dad and check on him. He's short on words. It happens when he's neck deep in a project. My heart does a little flip that he's working. He'll be distracted for however long it takes him to fix the computer.

  Which means that for once, I can steal a few minutes for myself and not worry that I need to rush home.

  The good days - when he has them - are really, really good.

  My heart is a little lighter. I had enough money for dad's medication. Even though it's not what he usually takes, I'm hopeful that with the injection, it might just keep the edge off the pain until his next appointment that, please God, won't be canceled.

  I sail through my shift. Abby comes in and catches me smiling to myself.

  "So what's his name?"

  Part of me feels guilty that I'm so transparent. On the other hand, maybe I am a crappy friend for not sharing that there was something interesting happening in my life. She knows a little bit about my dad, but I don’t tell her too much. I’m not ashamed, exactly, but I hate, hate the pity that usually accompanies people knowing.

  Abby is one of my closest friends. The one I call in emergencies and who makes me laugh no matter what. She's gorgeous, with skin the color of rich coffee and beautiful natural curls. I'm jealous of her flawless complexion. She tells me she's jealous of the fact that I can go to the drug store for makeup and not have to spend a fortune on color-matched foundation.

  We've been friends since we both started at the Baywater, and she adopted me. Yeah, I have to work through school but she’s taught me how to blend in, even at work.

  I flush a little bit, and even in the dimly lit hallway near the drinks, she catches me. "Oh, this is news." She leans in closer with a conspiratorial whisper. "Spill. Seriously. I haven't seen you this hot and bothered...ever, now that I think about it."

  "Noah. A guy I’m tutoring in stats."

  She shoots me her “yeah, right” expression. "Is 'stats' a euphemism for penis?"

  I cover my laugh before our boss hears me and comes to investigate. "Well, it wasn't when it started but things have gotten a little...interesting." I breathe out. "He's picking me up after work."

  Abby's eyes light up. "You have protection, right? You're not going to lose your damn mind and do something stupid?"

  I pause because, no, I don't have any condoms. I'm on the pill for several reasons but still...

  "Gotcha covered." She tugs me into the break room and pulls a discreet bag out of her purse.

  "You carry these around?"

  "Let's just say they're a holdover from my last relationship."

  I frown at her. "Abby, you haven't been with Robert in six months."

  She rolls her eyes. "It's not like they're expired. Sheesh. I just never got around to taking them out of my purse." She presses the small cloth bag into my hand. "Put them to good use."

  I shake my head but slide them into my bag. Because she's right. We've both been careful since we got to school. Girls like us don’t have the means to raise a baby and finish school. Babies are the end of any aspirations we might have for a better life through education.

  She’s watching me, waiting for me to answer the questions she has not asked.

  "This is kind of serious for you, isn't it?" There's a sense of wonder in her voice.

  "I don't know." An honest answer if nothing else.

  She says nothing for a moment at the uncertainty in my voice. "I don't think I've ever seen you not sure about anything. So I think that means this is important." She brushes my hair off my shoulder. "He better be worth it."

  There's a reason why I love Abby. I lower my head to her shoulder for a moment, letting myself absorb her strength and confidence. She's amazing in so many ways. I love her for watching out for me. It's nice to be worried about, for once, instead of being the one doing the worrying.

  "I think he might be," I whisper. "I think we need to get back to work before Dave comes searching for us."

  "He'll probably just inspect our shirts for the appropriate amount of tension across our tits."

  She's not wrong.

  We hit the floor, delivering drinks and food and chatting with clients. I manage not to screw up any orders even though my thoughts are a million miles away, on Noah.

  I usually stay on for extra hours, needing the few more measly dollars I can scrape by for tips. But tonight is already a slow night, and if not for Abby distracting me with tales from table twelve, I die of boredom.

  And as I'm heading for the door, Noah is there, standing in the foyer of the ridiculously expensive country club. He's wearing the same light blue button-down shirt from earlier. He's relaxed and more than a little rumpled.

  It warms my soul that he's waiting for me.

  Abby walks by. "Hey, Noah. Take care of our girl."

  I flush as a slow smile crawls across his lips. "You were talking about me?"

  "Maybe."

  "Hopefully not about how terrible I am at stats."

  I choke back a laugh and he lifts one eyebrow. "Abby asked if stats was a euphemism for something else. My mind just
took a detour, that's all."

  He steps into my space. Close enough that I can smell the soap on his skin. "I wonder if it's the same one mine just took."

  I press my lips together as the warmth is back, spreading like a languid heat through my veins. "We'll have to find out, won't we?"

  Noah

  She's got time. When she tells me that she doesn't have to rush home, all the blood leaves my brain and goes to the not-rational place in my body.

  She slides into the car and closes the door. "I, ah." Shit. Every bit of finesse has left me.

  And she laughs at me a moment before she cups my cheek and kisses me. A soft, sucking kiss that sends rational thought over the edge and leaves nothing but sensation in its wake. "Can we go to your place for a little bit?"

  "At least one of us is thinking clearly."

  "I wouldn't go that far. I was distracted my entire shift."

  She looks tired and gorgeous all at once.

  "How far from campus do you live?"

  "Twenty minutes. Small place off a big house around a farm pond."

  "How do you afford it?"

  "It's cheaper than living in town." I turn down the dark country road, leaving the city behind us.

  She leans against the window, peering up at the bright night sky. "Wow. I forgot how bright the stars can be."

  There's a ridiculous pleasure beneath my heart at the wonder in her voice. I don't want to remind her of life back in the city, but I can't help it. I have to do the responsible adult thing.

  "Your dad's okay?"

  She makes that warm sound in her throat. "Yeah. Whatever they injected him with last night has really made a difference." She sighs quietly. "I love it when he's up and not hurting." She tips her head toward me as I pull into the driveway of my small house. "He's fixing a computer right now. Lost in circuit boards and memory cards."

  "He fixes computers?"

  "When he can, yeah. He's pretty good at it. He'd almost gotten hired on at one of the local tech companies, but they opted not to because of his back."

  I frown. "That doesn't sound right."

  She shrugs, and her voice is resigned. "When the company pays your insurance and you've got a potentially expensive preexisting condition, it can absolutely disqualify you from a job."

  Her words are like ice water in my veins. I've got a shitload of things that probably qualify as preexisting conditions.

  And I am about to show her more than a few of them.

  "That's why I'm in business school," she says. "It's my best shot at getting a job that will pay enough that I can pay for his treatment outright."

  "I thought insurance couldn't deny people anymore."

  She shakes her head then leans forward to peer out at my small house in the headlights of my old truck. Water from the pond reflects in the moonlight. "Wow, you weren't kidding about the farm pond."

  "It's quiet out here."

  "It's beautiful." There's a sense of wonder in her voice again, and I don't want to talk about insurance anymore.

  I have this ridiculous fantasy of lying her down in the moonlight. I follow her out of the car, coming up behind her. I love the way she fits against me. Like her body is made for mine. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close.

  She sighs into my arms, running her hands over my forearms. Her nails scrape my skin in a gentle caress.

  "I've been thinking about you like this since earlier in the carrel." My lips are just near her ear. She shivers in my arms, and I'm ready to fucking melt into her. I can't screw this up.

  She makes that sound again, that throaty purr deep in her chest, and I give into the temptation. I press my lips to the space where her throat meets her shoulder, that soft pale indent of skin.

  Her nails dig into my skin a little harder when I suckle her there. And when she shifts to rock that gorgeous ass of hers against my cock, I'm damn near done right then and there.

  "Can I take you inside?" We both know where this will go if we step inside. I want her to be sure. To be one hundred percent.

  I'll stop if she changes her mind. I might cry a little. It's a completely un-masculine thing to do, but I might.

  I pray that she says yes.

  She rubs her hands down my arms. "I'd like that." A throaty whisper filled with promise.

  The moon is bright enough, and my house is small enough that I don't need any lights to see where I'm going. I toe the door closed behind us, and then we're alone in my tiny kitchen. I turn her in my arms so I can feel her softness against me. She's curves and strength and poise and beauty all in one amazing package.

  My fingers steal beneath that crisp white shirt. I feel her skin prickle beneath my touch. Slowly, I'm guiding her backward toward my bedroom. The house isn't that big. A few steps and we're there. The bed consumes the space, and for once, I'm eternally grateful I sprang for a bigger mattress when I moved here.

  She's warm and soft in my arms, letting me set the pace, the tone.

  One more step and I leave her there. She's standing in a moonbeam, bathed in silvery white light.

  Her throat moves as she swallows, and I'm entranced by the motion and the shadows. I’m behind her, keeping her body bathed in the light. I'm barely touching her now, skimming my hands over her arms, barely brushing against the warm fabric of her blouse.

  She lifts her hands to that first button. I capture them in mine. "Let me?"

  A question, not a demand.

  I guide her hands to her sides, finally connecting skin to skin. I slide my hands up her arms to that button. I push it through the tiny slit, revealing her pale, pale skin and the perfect curve of her breasts.

  I'm tormenting myself with this, but I want to savor every moment of unwrapping her. I want her out of her head when I slide inside her. I want to be out of my own so I can focus completely on her.

  Chapter 15

  Beth

  My breath is locked in my throat as he undoes another button. My breasts are heavy and tight. I crave his touch. I want his hands on me. But he's deliberate and slow as he pushes another button open.

  I open my eyes to discover there's a mirror over his dresser. And he's watching me. Heat floods between my thighs at the realization of what he's doing. It's erotic and sexual and pure sensuality all wrapped together.

  He tugs the blouse open. I wish I had a bra that was sexy lace and flowers. It's simple cotton, but when he sees it I might as well be wearing the tiniest bikini. He traces his fingers over the edge of one cup. My nipple tightens at the promise of his touch. He tugs at the edge of my bra until it's finally free. The cool kiss of air is a shock from the loss of the warmth of my clothing.

  Then he touches me. A gentle stroke of his thumb over my nipple. He's watching my reaction in the mirror, and I'm lost to the sensation, fascinated by watching his touch tease my body to awareness. My nipple tightens to a smaller bud as he strokes it. Again and again - each touch striking liquid heat between my thighs.

  I squirm, shifting my legs apart just a little. Just enough to see his gaze drop down to where I want his touch. His hand, his mouth. Anything to relieve the pressure there.

  He drags my shirt off my shoulders and my bra follows. I'm exposed and vulnerable now in the bright moonlight, but he hasn't taken his eyes off mine in the mirror. He's warm at my back as he slides his hands up my soft belly to cup the underswell of my breasts. Almost worshipful, he cups them, his thumbs stroking closer to my nipples.

  "Noah."

  His name is a prayer. He shifts then, his thumbs circling my nipples. Making them stiffen until I'm ready to beg him for more. I part my legs just a little more. An offering.

  "Touch me." I can't manage anything more coherent than that.

  He slips the hook free of the loop on my pants and slowly - so slowly - the rasp of the zipper exposes me. I don't know what I expect, but he pushes my pants down, down my hips. He kneels in front of me, sliding my feet free of the fabric.

  I can't look in the mirror now. Not wi
th him on his knees in front of me, close - so close, to what I want to ask for. I don't have the needy words to say what I want.

  His palms are rough on my legs as he drags them up, higher, closer to my aching core. My thighs are wet and he hasn't even touched me there.

  I'm watching him now. It's strangely erotic being completely naked in front of him while he's still fully clothed. His touch stops there, just at the seam of my body. He slides his thumb over my swollen clit, the barest touch. My hips jerk at the sensitive caress.

  "Christ, you’re wet," he whispers. "Can I touch you?" His questions are an erotic sensation all their own. I manage to nod, my body tight and tense with anticipation.

  He urges me back until the backs of my thighs collide with his bed. I sink onto his blankets and sheets and I am surrounded by the scent of him. They're cool against the fire raging along my naked back. His hands brush my thighs farther apart and then his thumb is there again. Stroking. Gently petting me where I'm swollen and wet.

  Then his mouth is on me. Soft and warm and wet. Suckling me where I'm most sensitive. I almost come off the bed as he torments me with his tongue. He's done nothing more than flick his tongue over me when I completely come apart in a burst of stunningly bright light and brilliant stars.

  I'm vaguely aware of a sound like crinkling foil and then he's there, pressing into the swollen folds of my body. Somehow he’s naked and we are skin to skin, flesh to flesh. I wrap my arms and legs around him and urge him closer. I want, I need, the fullness of him. Of Noah.

  He's filling me, slowly, inch by inch, riding the shuddering waves of my body until he's deep and thick inside me.

  I try to press my hands to his back but he threads his fingers with mine, dragging them over my head. And when he moves, I'm completely lost again in a sea of sensation and hyper arousal that takes me beyond consciousness and into a space where he ends and I begin.

  He kisses me, and I am drowning in my taste and his, the pleasure of our bodies mingling on our tongues. The distant edge of orgasm comes roaring back, pulsing through my body with a violence that is utterly destructive, dragging me down and carrying him with me.