Friendship on Fire

by Joss Wood

Okay, that statement pierced the fog. But...no. As much as she wanted to get naked, this dress was too expensive to be a casualty. She slapped her hand on Noah’s chest. “Do not harm this dress, Lockwood.”

  When he just smiled at her, Jules slapped him again to make her point. “Seriously, Noah. Don’t do anything to this dress.”

  Noah held up his hands before his expression turned, and she saw determination, tenderness and a great deal of fascination in his face. He touched her cheek and his fingers trailed over her jaw. “You are so damn beautiful, Jules.”

  Jules touched her tongue to her top lip. When he spoke in that reverent voice, his confidence and cockiness gone, she saw Noah at a deeper level, stripped bare. She liked the softness beneath the bad-boy layer, the tenderness beneath his alpha facade.

  She liked him. She loved him. And in ways she shouldn’t.

  Determined not to go there, not to think about that now, Jules closed the front door and linking her fingers with Noah’s, led him up the stairs. She smiled as they both instinctively avoided the steps that creaked, staying to the side of the hallway to muffle their footsteps. They were adults but they were acting like her parents still occupied the master suite down the hall.

  Jules led Noah into her bedroom, shut the door and kicked off her heels. Turning around, she looked at her man, taking a moment to watch him watch her. Deciding that her dress needed to go—because she didn’t fully trust that wild look in Noah’s eye—she reached under her arm and found the tab to the hidden zip, slowly pulling it down her side. The dress fell apart and Jules, enjoying this striptease more than she thought she would, slowly stepped out of it, draping it over the back of her chair. In the corner of her eye she caught her reflection in her freestanding mirror, saw her strapless, blush-colored bra and matching high-cut panties. Her underwear covered as much as her bathing suit normally did but she looked wanton, like a woman anticipating her lover.

  And, dammit, she was.

  Who would make the first move? Jules didn’t know, so she just stood there as the tension in the room ratcheted upward.

  Noah lifted one eyebrow, his face hard in the light of the bedside lamp she’d left burning. “You sure about this?” he asked quietly, his lashes dark against his cheek. “Because if we start, I’m not sure that I’ll be able to stop.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Then I’m damn grateful.”

  Noah shrugged out of his jacket, pulled down his tie and tossed both onto the chair, covering her dress with his clothing. Flipping open the button on his collar, he stepped toward her, the pads of his fingers skimming the column of her neck. Her collarbone, the slope of her breast. His gentle touch gave permission for the butterflies in her stomach to lift off. Him taking it slow was more erotic than deep, hot kisses and on-fire hands.

  He was such a tough man, so self-contained, but his tenderness was a surprise, his need to draw out their lovemaking astonishing. But he’d speed up in a minute, and they’d go from zero to ballistic. There was too much chemistry between them to allow for a long, slow burn.

  Noah held her head in both hands and his thumbs drifted over her eyebrows, down her temples and across her cheekbones.

  “Kiss me, No.”

  Noah half smiled. “Shh. Don’t think, don’t rush, just feel. Enjoy me loving you. There is no hurry.”

  Noah didn’t wait for or expect a reply, he just lowered his head and his mouth finally—finally!—skimmed hers. As they kissed along slow, heated paths of pleasure, she touched him where she could. She tried to open his shirt with hesitant, shaking fingers, and it seemed like eons passed before she managed to separate the sides of his shirt, allowing her hands to skate across his chest. She pulled her fingers through his chest hair, across his flat nipples, over his rib cage. She dragged her nails over his stomach muscles, feeling like a superhero when he trembled under her touch.

  Through the fabric of his pants, she stroked the pad of her finger along his erection, from base to tip, and was rewarded by the sound of a low curse.

  Needing more, Jules flipped open the snap on his pants, pulled down his zipper and released his straining erection. Using both hands to cage him, she arched her neck as Noah’s mouth headed south, nipping the cords of her neck, sucking on the skin covering the ball of her shoulder.

  Without warning, Noah spun her around, ordering her to put her hands on the wall. Following his lead, she gasped when his mouth touched every bump on her spine, barely noticing when her bra fell to the floor at her feet. Stepping close to her, his hands covered her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples into hard points.

  “I want you,” he said, dipping his head to her neck, sucking on that patch of skin where her neck and shoulder met.

  Noah hooked his thumbs into her lacy panties and slid them down her legs. Then Noah’s hands were on her butt, his fingers sliding between her legs, finding her most sensitive spot with ruthless efficiency. Jules lifted her arms above her head, rested her forehead on her wrists and began to pant.

  One finger entered her, then another, and she climbed...reaching, teetering, desperate.

  Noah chuckled, pulled his hand away to tease her breasts, slid his fingers across her flat stomach.

  “Noah...”

  Noah’s chest pressed into her back, his erection flirting with her butt. “Yeah?”

  “I need—”

  “What, babe?”

  Jules turned her head and torso and lifted her face, prepared to beg. His eyes, sparking with gold flecks, met hers and then his mouth was over hers, possessive and demanding. Wriggling so that she faced him, Jules hooked a leg over his hip and groaned when his erection brushed her curls, finding her sweet spot.

  Pulling her backward, Noah half lifted and half dragged her to her bed, sitting and pulling her down so that her legs fell on either side of his thighs, as close as they could be without him slipping inside.

  Noah pushed her hair off her face. “Babe, I need a condom and to get my clothes off. I’m not making love to you half-naked.”

  Jules moved against him, sliding her core up him. She smiled when Noah’s eyes rolled upward. “Okay, in a minute.”

  Noah gripped her hips and lifted her off him, the muscles in his stomach and arms contracting. Wow, hot. Noah stood up, picked up his jacket and found the inside pocket. He pulled out a strip of three condoms, which he tossed onto the bed next to her hip. Jules flopped back on the bed and watched Noah strip, boldly inspecting him from the top of his now-messy hair to his big feet still encased in his shoes. He had a tattoo just above his hip and Jules sat up to take a closer look. After he removed his socks and shoes, she reached for him, allowing her fingers to skate over his ink, a nautical rope.

  The knot of the bowline rested on his hip while the rope traveled across the very top of his thigh and onto his lower stomach. Jules appreciated the artist’s work, the battered quality suggesting the rope was well used. “Do you miss sailing, No?”

  Noah’s fingers tunneled into her hair. “Not as much as I missed you.”

  Not sure how to respond, Jules stared up at him with wide eyes.

  Noah pinned her with his gaze, his big body looming over hers. Her legs fell open and his erection nudged her opening. “I need you, Jules. I need to be inside you. To feel... Jesus, Jules.”

  Jules silently finished his sentence for him: to feel complete.

  Jules wound her arms around his neck as he slid inside her, just once, skin on skin. Like him, she craved this contact, just for a brief second or maybe a minute, with no emotional or physical barriers. Then Noah pulled out, rolled a condom on and returned to loving her.

  Which he did, as he did most things, extremely well.

  Nine

  Jules...

  The next morning, when Jules stepped into her mom’s sunny kitchen—Levi’s kitchen because it was his house now—Darby grabbed her ha

nd and hopped on one foot.

  “Juju! News!”

  Jules eyed the full coffeepot. Since Noah spent most of last night doing wonderful things to her that might be illegal in certain countries, she was exhausted. Her brain was fried and her energy levels were low. Speaking of, where was the man of the hour, of the past several hours? Her bed was empty, he wasn’t in the bathroom and he wasn’t helping Levi make breakfast.

  Maybe he wanted to avoid facing her family first thing in the morning. God knew she did. But it turned out that she needed coffee more than she needed to avoid conversation.

  “Guess who had a date last night?” Darby asked, hopping from one foot to the other.

  Okay, she and Darby had the twin thing going on, but Darby could not know that she’d slept with Noah. No way. Turning her back on her sister, Jules ignored Levi’s greeting and grabbed a mug from the cupboard above the coffeepot. Pouring some of the brew into her cup, she took her time turning around, hoping that they wouldn’t notice the stubble burn on her jaw and her many-orgasms glow.

  “Isn’t there a rule in the Bible about talking about this stuff on a Sunday?” Jules asked.

  Levi, who was melting butter for—thank you, God—eggs Benedict, glared at Darby. “Don’t think so but I wish there was.” Levi frowned at her. “Are we talking about you?”

  “Me?” Jules slapped her hand on her heart. “Why me?”

  She waited for Levi to say that he’d seen Noah walking out of her bedroom but Levi just shook his head and returned to his task of making breakfast.

  Dammit. There was nothing to feel embarrassed about. She and Noah were consenting adults, but she didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of her brother knowing that she and Noah... Jules shuddered. Too much to handle on little sleep and with no caffeine in her system.

  Darby cocked her head. “You look exhausted, Jules. How much sleep did you get last night?”

  Not much since she’d spent most of the night exploring the land of Noah. “It’s been a long, long week and last night was difficult. Ethan was at Paris’s cocktail party and he is going to be the liaison between Paris and Noah, helping her to make decisions about the yacht.”

  “Dammit,” Levi grumbled.

  “Why is that a problem?” Darby reached for an apple before jumping up on the kitchen counter, her long legs swinging. “Ethan knows yachts. He taught Noah to sail.”

  Levi shook his head and turned back to the stove. Jules touched his arm and waited until he looked at her. “How much do you know about their falling-out?”

  “Not that much. You know Noah. He’s not great at communicating. I’ve gathered bits and pieces from Eli and Ben, stuff they’ve said over the years, but I don’t know what happened, exactly.” Levi shook his head. “And I’m not telling you, Jules. It’s his story to tell.”

  His reticence wasn’t a surprise. Levi wasn’t a gossip.

  “I have no idea what’s going on,” Darby complained, between bites of her apple.

  “I’ll tell you what I can when I can, Darbs,” Jules replied. Wanting to get off the subject of Noah and his past—he’d hate to know they were discussing him—Jules tossed her a smile. “So, what’s the big news?”

  “Oh, God, gossip.” Levi groaned. “Can this wait until later?”

  “No.” Darby pointed a finger at Levi. “It concerns our mother.”

  Levi stepped away from the stove and frowned at her. “What’s wrong with Mom? Is she hurt? Why aren’t you telling me anything?”

  Levi went from zero to protective in two seconds flat. Sipping her coffee, Jules eyed her siblings over the rim of her cup.

  “She’s fine,” Darby replied before a sly smile crossed her face. “In fact she’s more than fine. I heard that she had a hot date last night. Dancing was involved.”

  Jules hoped it was with the coffee shop owner. Apart from the fact that he was sexy in an older guy/action hero–type of way, her mom hooking up with him would ensure a decent supply of coffee for a long time to come. Yeah, it wasn’t pretty but Jules was willing to encourage this relationship to feed her coffee addiction.

  “She went clubbing?” Levi demanded, his expression turning dark.

  Go, Mom.

  “Where? What? With who?”

  Levi looked like he was ready to blow. How could he not know that Darby was winding him up? “Darbs...” she warned.

  “Okay, not clubbing. But she did go dancing at a salsa club and she was looking fine.”

  “How do you know all this?” Levi said, sounding skeptical. Jules shook her head. Darby had friends everywhere and she encouraged those friends to talk, okay, report back to her. She was like the human version of social media.

  “A friend of a friend. She also had a dinner date the night before last.”

  Two guys? Way to go, Mom! Jules grinned but Levi looked like he wanted to rip someone’s head off. “Who is he? Where does he work? What does he do? Do we know him? Seriously, I’m going to go over to her house and—”

  Jules lifted an eyebrow, waiting to hear what he would do to their mother.

  “—give her a stern talking to!” he finished.

  Jules giggled. “Calm down, Rambo. She’s allowed to have some fun.”

  “Fun is bowling or golf, not salsa and dinner dates!” Levi picked up some scallions and started chopping the hell out of them.

  “Mom is allowed a life. She’s been alone a long time. If she wants to get it on, good for her. At least one of us is getting some.”

  Levi dropped the knife and slapped his hands over his ears. “Shaddup, Darby. Seriously!”

  Darby laughed, enjoying Levi’s discomfort and her eyes met Jules’s, inviting her to share the joke. Mom’s not the only one who is getting lucky...

  Darby heard her silent words and her smile faded, her eyes widening. Jules bit her bottom lip. She normally told Darby everything but she wasn’t ready to discuss Noah with her and she wasn’t ready to articulate what she was feeling. Mostly because she didn’t know what she was feeling, except confused.

  Darby glanced at Levi and, seeing that his concentration was back on the scallions, lifted her eyebrows. “Noah?” she mouthed.

  Who else? Jules nodded and shook her head. She held up her hand, silently begging her sister to let it go.

  Darby pouted before slumping back in her chair, defeated. We will talk about this.

  I know. Just not yet.

  Are you okay?

  Yep. Just confused.

  Darby waggled her eyebrows. Tell me this, at the very least. Was he good?

  Jules placed her hand on her heart. He was amazing.

  “What’s going on?”

  Jules turned to see DJ standing in the doorway, her eyes bouncing from face to face.

  “My mother is salsa dancing and dating two guys. I’m freaking out, and Jules hasn’t had any sleep.” Levi looked up from his task and pointed his knife at Jules, then Darby. “And Jules and Darby are doing their weird twin, silent communication thing.”

  DJ placed her hands on her hips, eyed Jules and her sister before turning her attention back to Levi. “Your mom deserves to have some fun, and Jules also, if I’m not mistaken, got herself some last night and that’s what they were discussing.”

  Okay, so it might not just be a twin thing; it might be an I’ve-known-you-since-you-were-six thing. DJ moved to stand behind Levi’s back and pointed her finger to the ceiling.

  Noah?

  Again, who else?

  Was it good?

  Why were they so concerned about Noah’s prowess in the sack? Seriously?

  “I can feel the air moving behind me, DJ,” Levi growled. “Enough already with the sex talk. I don’t want to know who is having sex, when. Ever,” Levi said before sending Jules a hard look. “Do I need to beat someone up for you?”

  Jules quickly shook her head. “No! I’m good.” Seeing the concern on Levi’s face, she scrambled to find some words since Levi didn’t do the silent communication thing. “I’m good. We’re good. Everything is good.”

  Levi folded his massive arms across his chest. “Good.”

  Jules frowned at his sarcastic repetition of her word.

  “Because I would hate to have to kick my best friend’s ass. Speaking of, can you find him and tell him that breakfast will be ready in fifteen?”

  Maybe Levi was better at the silent communication thing than she thought.

  * * *

  As she had a hundred times before but not for a long time, Jules climbed up the ivy-covered trellis that led up to what used to be Noah’s bedroom within Lockwood House and wondered what she was doing. She wasn’t ten or fourteen or even eighteen anymore.

  A month after Bethann’s death, Ethan had closed up the house and moved to the apartment they kept in the city. She remembered hearing her father and mother discussing his abhorrent behavior, his lack of respect, but being young and self-involved, she hadn’t paid much attention to their hushed conversations. All she knew was that Noah was hurting and that their family, which had seemed to be rock solid, detonated with Bethann’s passing and the reading of the will. Within three months of her death, Noah had left Boston and dropped out of her life.

  Why hadn’t she pushed and probed, demanded more information? In hindsight, it was easy to see how much Noah was suffering, to see how unhappy he’d been with Morgan, to discern that she wasn’t given him the emotional support he needed. Sex with Morgan might’ve temporarily dulled the pain but sex wouldn’t have dulled his grief, his fear.

  But Jules knew why she hadn’t dug deeper with Noah. She had been upset with him about his involvement with Morgan—jealous, maybe?—and frustrated when he pulled back into his noncommunicative shell. She’d been dealing with her own grief and frustration at not being able to connect with her friend, betrayed by the announcement of his engagement and devastated by his kiss.

  Devastated, confused, emotionally battered.

  But that was in their past and she had to deal with Noah as he was today, with the adults they both were. He wasn’t a young man anymore and she wasn’t a teen. They could, presumably, separate attraction from sex, love from friendship, curtail their wild imaginings...

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