Noah and Me

by Beckie Stevenson

  He blinks at me, probably trying to figure out if I’m joking or not, and then shrugs. I’m starting to figure out that guys are pretty predictable and mostly the same. I’ve fired questions at Noah about sex and what men want and why they want it like that nearly every single day since we’ve met.

  “I want you to fight me,” I tell him. “I’m not saying punch me in the head or anything, but try and pin me down and stuff like that.”

  “Okay,” he huffs.

  I pull his head up to my face with my hands and kiss him on the lips as hard as I can. As I pull away, I take his lip in between my teeth and bite down hard.

  “Fuck,” he hisses, instinctively nibbling back at me. He tugs and my lips start to tingle, and then I taste blood.

  I push my hands up his arms that are holding his weight and circle around his shoulders before slowly dragging my nails down his back. He starts to pant in my mouth, his hot breath steaming over the cut on my lip.

  “I need more, Noah,” I whisper.

  He pins my wrists on the bed above my head and presses a lot of his weight down on top of them. I feel my tiny bones being squashed and get a thrill of electricity running up and down my arms. I wiggle and flex my fingers as I try to move them, but he holds firm and steady. My need instantly intensifies at his resistance.

  “Come on,” I tease. “Is that all you’ve got?”

  He grunts and holds his cock right at the edge of my entrance. “You want it rough?” he clarifies.

  “Yes.”

  He lets go of my wrists and folds both of my legs up and over so my shins are nearly touching my nose. I feel his hand digging into the back of my thigh, and the slither of pain it produces makes me wetter.

  He pushes into me quickly, but because of how turned on I am, his cock slides smoothly in. “God, you’re wet,” he pants as he starts to flex his hips.

  “Harder,” I say. “Fuck me, Noah.”

  He puts both of his hands on my ankles and holds his weight up that way now. My legs bend even more and come right down to my face. He pushes himself deeper and deeper inside of me until he can’t go any further.

  “Harder,” I huff.

  He pulls out and slams straight back into me as hard as he can. I run my nails down his side and dig them into his bum.

  He roughly drags his hands down my legs, digging his fingertips along my thighs and pinching my skin.

  “Harder,” I tell him again. “You’re not doing it hard enough!”

  He quickly withdraws from me, letting my legs flop back onto the bed. Before I can even look up, he grabs both of my arms and drags me off the bed to my feet. He places his hand on the back of my neck and pushes me roughly into the wall.

  Then he bites me everywhere. My neck, my shoulders, my back, my bum…and then he climbs all the way back up, doing it even harder. I gasp as his teeth sink into my skin. He slams my arms against the wall and pins them with his hands. I can’t move. He’s squashed me up against the wall so tightly that my breasts rub against the cool plaster and start to hurt.

  He dips his knees and pushes his damp cock back into me at the same time that he really bites down hard on my shoulder.

  “Argh,” I cry. “Yes, Noah. I love it when you fuck me like this.”

  He twists his fingers into my hair and tugs on it, forcing my head to snap back. He cups my chin with his hand and pushes two fingers into my mouth.

  “Suck,” he commands.

  I suck them like they’re his cock. I run my tongue all over them and then I match his rhythm. As he goes into me, his fingers go into my mouth. He pants and groans right into my ear, causing all the hairs on my body to stand on end.

  Then he really starts to pound me. He lifts up onto his toes and pushes his cock further in. I can tell he’s getting close. I can feel him tightening inside me and hear his erratic breathing. “I’m not ready yet,” I say.

  “Then fucking get ready,” he pants, putting his hand on top of mine and moving it down my body until my own fingers rest on my clitoris.

  I start to move my fingers around. Oh God, this is so good. I won’t be long. He’s in and out slowly now, teasing us both with his whole length. His hand goes to the back of my head and pushes my cheek against the wall. He gathers my other wrist and pins it to the wall before his other hand curls around my hip. He keeps my face pressed against the wall and pulls my hips and bum away. I plant my hands flat against the cool wall and slide down until my hips are virtually at a right angle.

  “Like this?” he asks.

  I’m bent over so it gives him the perfect angle to slide right across my g-spot. Within seconds, I’m on the verge of an orgasm. “Yes,” I breathe.

  He lets go of my wrist and grabs onto my hips with both hands. He pulls me back as he thrusts into me, and it’s so hard that I jolt forward, hitting my eye on the wall. The pain bursts into my brain like an explosion and then swiftly moves down to my clitoris, where it starts to spiral. The tingling sensation spreads up and down my body like lightning, and I start to feel lightheaded as the orgasm resonates throughout me. It swarms around in my blood and crawls all over my skin. My whole body tenses as it reaches its peak, and I feel Noah thrust once more before stilling and holding me with shaking hands.

  Oh. My. God. That was amazing, I think, as we slide down to the floor. Noah pants and lies down on his back while he tries to catch his breath. I curl into his side, placing my hand over his heart and my head on his chest.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  He pulls his hand up and strokes my hair. Some of it is matted near my head, causing his fingers to get stuck.

  “What’s this?” he says, leaning up on his elbows.

  I don’t move. Instead, I watch his eyes turn from sky blue to almost grey. “I cut you?” he asks in disbelief. “When did I do this?”

  “It wasn’t you,” I say quickly. “It was the wall and it doesn’t hurt.”

  He shuffles away from me and stands up in all his naked glory. His eyes survey my body and I can tell they don’t like what they see. “Fucking hell, Ariel,” he says. “You’re covered in marks and they’ll bruise.”

  “That was the idea,” I whisper.

  “Oh no,” he says angrily. “Fuck, no. I’m not doing shit to you that’s going to bruise you or give you a fucking black eye. What sort of crazy shit is this?”

  “You looked like you were enjoying it,” I mumble as I roll my eyes at him. He tends to overreact and worry about what people will think a lot. Why does he care?

  “I was putting up with it for you,” he spits. “Any bloke will come if he’s shoving his dick into a wet hole.”

  “How romantic,” I reply.

  “Fuck you, Ariel. You’ve done it again.”

  I blink at him. “Done what?”

  “Managed to talk me into doing something where I’ve ended up feeling like a complete fucker afterwards.”

  He’s blaming me. He’s actually blaming me for this. “If I remember correctly, you didn’t exactly need that much convincing. Always happy to shove your dick in, aren’t you, Noah?”

  He pulls me up off the floor and shoves me towards the door. “Go and get a shower.”

  “Why?” I ask, walking towards the door feeling very confused.

  “Because if you don’t, I’m going to say something that I’ll regret,” he spits. “Now go.”

  “No,” I say, turning around to face him. “You can’t just boss me around like I’m a little girl, Noah. I’m not leaving until we fix this.”

  “I am never doing anything like that again,” he says. “Do you know how I feel looking at you?”

  I shake my head.

  “I feel ashamed,” he says. “I feel like a monster. Men shouldn’t hurt women, Ariel. Ever.”

  “I asked you to do it,” I tell him. “Why do you always make something out of nothing?”

  “I don’t,” he says. “I just feel like a twat and I need some space right now.”

  I nod. I’ll give him
an hour. If he hasn’t calmed down after that, maybe I’ll punch him so I can play the bad-guy card.

  “Ariel,” he calls, just as I’m about to leave my bedroom.

  I stop and turn around.

  “I need to ask you something and I need you to tell me the truth.”

  “Okay,” I say slowly. My heart starts to beat just that little bit faster.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, stepping towards me. “It’s been going around and around in my head since I first met you, and I have to know the answer. I’m wondering if it’ll explain things.”

  “Okay,” I say again.

  “Were you abused as a child?” he whispers, looking me dead in the eye.

  How the fuck has he come to that conclusion? Who does he think abused me as a child? My father? “Get out,” I snap. “Get dressed and get out.” The air in my lungs starts to rush around, trying to break free. I feel my chest go tight and my heart thump against my skin.

  “What?” he says, clearly confused.

  “Get out!” I scream. I lunge towards him, pick his clothes up off the floor and shove them into his chest. “Get out. Get out. Get the fuck out!”

  “Ariel,” he says, pulling on his trousers. “What the hell?!”

  “Get out. Go back to your house and go back to Tara,” I say. “I never want to see you again.”

  “What?” he repeats, looking shocked.

  “You heard me…now go.”

  He doesn’t bother putting the rest of his clothes on. He gathers them into his arms and walks past me, shaking his head. “I don’t get it,” he says.

  “Why did you ask me that?” I ask, my hands shaking with anger.

  “Because I needed to know.”

  “But what made you think of it?” I push. “What gave you that idea?”

  “You’ve got weird sexual tendencies. The very first time you have sex, you ask me to fuck you like you’re in a porno. And then this,” he says, angrily pointing between us. “Have you seen what you look like? You look like someone has walked all over you with spiked shoes. It’s not right. I was trying to understand why you were like that, and the only experience I have is where people have been exposed to stuff like that when they were young.”

  I shake my head. “You think I like rough sex because I was roughly abused and that I think that’s how it should be all the time?”

  He looks across the room at me with sadness shadowing his face. “Yes. Well, I did. I don’t anymore, obviously.”

  I close my eyes to stop the tears from falling out. “Have a nice life, Noah.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” he says quietly.

  Yes, I probably am…because in my head, I can’t let the two worlds collide. I don’t open my eyes but I hear him walking down the stairs and then out of the door and out of my life.

  It’s the middle of the night and I’ve been tossing and turning for about three hours when I hear the front door squeak open. Footsteps echo through the house as he walks up the stairs. I shut my eyes and roll away from the door.

  “It’s me,” he whispers though the darkness. I hear his clothes hitting the floor and then he slips into bed beside me. “I need to be here,” he tells me. “I haven’t slept without you in seven weeks and I can’t start tonight. I missed you.”

  I sigh, but I don’t say anything to him.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, snaking an arm around me. “I just really care about you and I don’t want to be walking around thinking there’s something in that head of yours that you’re not telling me, especially when it’s something I could help with.”

  I keep my eyes shut.

  “In three days, we’ll be in Florida and we can forget all about this. You won’t have any of the stress of selling the house to worry you and we can start over again.”

  He sighs. “Are you awake?”

  I don’t answer him.

  He kisses my shoulder and nuzzles in behind me. “Sweet dreams, Ariel.”

  Chapter 22

  NOW

  Anniversaries

  I wake up and immediately feel the sleepy monster of grief wake up too. It’s the tenth day of December, which means it’s the seventh anniversary of the accident. I always take the day off work, but I never do anything. It’s just a day that I like to spend in bed while remembering them. I daydream about what they’d be doing now. I think about Lily and how she’d be getting excited for Christmas and the boys who would probably be taller than me by now.

  I get up and walk into my en-suite bathroom and flick the shower on. As I wash myself, I can’t help but think about Noah and the way we met at their funeral. I think about that day a lot, especially how, according to Noah, all of our problems seem to transpire from that one afternoon.

  I haven’t seen him since the night of the pizza party, which was just over two weeks ago. Ben and Owen have been round a lot lately, and when I asked them where he was, they said he was in Ireland. I tried to push them for more information, but they claimed to not know anything. They just said he’s been going there a lot lately. I’m guessing it’s Tara he goes to see, but I’m confused about why he keeps her a secret.

  When I get out of the shower, I smell food cooking and it’s the good kind of food. Sausages, bacon and there’s definitely a hint of egg in there. I thought Ruby was working today, but I must have gotten her shifts muddled up. I quickly dry my hair with my bright pink hairdryer and pull on my black silk nightie and matching short dressing gown.

  “Something smells good,” I call as I walk down the hallway. “I hope you’re cooking enough for me.”

  “I am,” a deep voice replies.

  I frown as I round the corner and freeze when I see Noah in my kitchen.

  “Good morning, Ariel,” he says.

  He pushes a plate of food onto the breakfast counter and slides some cutlery along.

  “What’s this for?” I ask, sitting down. He’s cooked a full English breakfast. I remember him doing this for me on Christmas day, only this time the ingredients look to be of better quality.

  He comes around the breakfast bar carrying his own plate of food and briefly kisses my cheek. “Because I know what day it is today,” he says.

  I nod at him. “Thank you.” Sometimes he really can be the kindest man on the planet.

  “Shall we go and visit them together?” he asks, cutting up his egg, making the yolk spill all across his plate.

  “I can’t.”

  “Ariel,” he says, “you haven’t been since you left. I think you should go.”

  “I couldn’t face it,” I say by way of explanation. “And how do you know I haven’t been?”

  “Because I’ve been every single year,” he says.

  What? “Why?”

  He shrugs. “Two reasons. One, because you weren’t going and two, I used to hope I’d see you there.”

  Did he need an explanation so badly that he’d wait by my family’s grave in the hopes of seeing me? God, I’m a bitch. “That’s really kind of you,” I say. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll drive you today,” he says. “We don’t have to talk, but if I’m going there anyway, it seems silly for us to go in separate cars.”

  “I’m not going,” I say quickly. “I appreciate the breakfast, but I’m not going.”

  “Yes, you are,” he says. That must be the tone of voice he uses with the nurses when he wants something done, I think.

  “You couldn’t boss me about when I was eighteen, Noah. You’re certainly not going to do it now.”

  “We’ll see,” he says. “Eat up.”

  I scowl at him but find myself too hungry to refuse what’s in front of me. When I’m done with my plate, I get up and rinse it off before putting it in the dishwasher. “You take your time,” I tell him, nodding to the few bits that are left on his plate. “I’m going back to bed. Have a nice day.”

  He doesn’t say anything. He narrows his eyes at me and watches as I walk past him. I decide to wiggle my hips for him and hear him tut. “
Well, you shouldn’t be staring then,” I call.

  “You still need to face up to stuff!” he shouts.

  How is visiting their grave going to help me to do that? “Whatever,” I yell back. I slam my bedroom door behind me and jump into bed, pulling the covers over my head.

  About ten minutes later, I feel the covers move. I didn’t hear him come in the room, so it makes me jump when he pulls the covers right off me. “Come on,” he says. “Get dressed and come with me.”

  “Why?” I stare at him…his eyes are turquoise today. They remind me of the sea where we swam when we were in Florida. I’ve met—and been with—a lot of men in the last seven years, but none have been as handsome or as annoying or as kind or as infuriating as Noah Carter.

  Time sits well on his face. So well, that looking at him, I almost forget that he was by my side when the shit hit the fan. He stood by me and was willing to carry on, even when he must have known I was lying to him. He was my rock and saviour. I know that I should thank him for what he did. I know that without him, I’d have killed myself. I couldn’t admit it when I was living in the moment, but now, looking back, I know I wanted to die so I could be with my family. I couldn’t see any future or any other way out. Until Noah.

  “Because I think it will help,” he says. “And I want to help you.”

  “Why?”

  “For the same reason that I couldn’t say no to you all those years ago.”

  I fight the smile that’s threatening to break out across my face. “And why is that?”

  “Because you’re the most beautiful and mesmerising girl that I’ve ever met. I doubt there’s a man on this planet that could say no to you,” he says, sitting on the edge of my bed.

  On any normal day, my brain would memorise those words and the butterflies in my chest would wake up and flutter like mad…but not today. Today, neither my head nor my heart has room for anything else. “Noah, I can’t go.”

  “Ariel,” he sighs. “Yes, you can, and yes, you are.”

  The nice moment disappears. “You’re going to have to make me,” I tell him, folding my arms across my chest.