My lip curls up and I internally hiss like a cat. I hear Noah chuckle and turn back to me. “Be nice,” he playfully scolds.
Whoops, that was out loud, I think.
I start to laugh at myself. “It was the alcohol.”
“Good excuse. That ass better be sitting on my lap when we get our booth.”
“Mmm, yes, sir,” I manage to reply as I look at his tush. Suddenly I’m remembering a similar scenario just a few months back.
“What bottle of liquor do you want?”
I keep following behind him with our fingers laced.
“Heather?”
“Hmmm?” I’m staring in a dreamy haze. I can just see his naked butt right now. It’s so tight and . . .
He turns and looks at me. “Ah, taking in the view, huh?”
I look up and am so incredibly turned on by his cockiness. We’re finally taken to a booth that’s nearly secluded, and he guides me in first. He slides in after me and asks for a bottle of Grey Goose.
I barely wait for him to settle in when I sidle up next to him.
“This seems familiar.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” I say.
His arms come around me and pull me onto his lap where he nuzzles my neck and breathes me in slowly. “Damn, I want to be buried inside of you.”
I can feel his length underneath me already, and I’m dripping wet. “Yeah? How bad?”
“You have no fucking idea how bad. Ever since my cock slid between your tight ass cheeks, I’ve been visualizing my balls slapping against the curve of your pretty little ass.”
My breath catches and I’m cursing myself for not wearing a dress. I boldly take his hand and place it between my legs. I can hear him groan against my neck, and it makes me feel powerful.
“You’re rather enjoying teasing me tonight, Heather.”
I lie against his chest and move my hand on top of his. “Touch me . . .” I breathe out. My entire body is buzzing from all of the alcohol.
He slides his hand down the inside of my thigh and over the material of my outfit to my sex.
I moan and turn my head, grinding my butt against his length. It may be the alcohol or just my good mood, but I really, really want him to take me there. “Oh God, that feels good.”
Our waitress comes with our bottle and pours us each a shot. Noah stills his hand and kisses me slowly, pushing his tongue between my lips and licking my teeth.
I pull back and smile drunkenly at him, grabbing both our shots and handing one to Noah. “I have a secret to tell you.”
“Tell me right now. Or I’ll take my belt off right here and show you why you shouldn’t tease me in public.”
My entire being ignites, and I become highly aroused at the thought. My eyes are bright with excitement as I hold my shot against my lips. “Would you really?”
“That would depend. Would you let me lick that pretty ass of yours?”
I take my shot for a little more liquid courage, and I lick my lips, looking right into his eyes. “Well, that’s what my secret is about.” I watch as his eyes flicker from my lips to my deep cleavage and back again.
“Tell me,” he says firmly.
I bring my lips close to his and let it all out. Here we go.
“I want you to fuck my ass, Noah. I want you to fuck it with your tongue and your cock.”
His cock almost pierces my jumpsuit. “Holy fuck.”
I bite down on my lip nervously, afraid I’ve said too much in my drunken state.
“I’ll be taking you up on that invite; are you ready to go and pay into the swear jar? You’re giving me blue balls.”
“Wait . . . you haven’t even taken your shot.” I stay firmly planted on his lap and watch the room spin. He reaches for the shot, I think, and brings it to his lips before he sets it down and pours himself another and downs it.
I smile and start to laugh. “Get drunk with me.” I lean down and run my tongue along his neck. “Mmm, please, baby . . . get drunk with me and then take me home and tongue fuck my ass.”
I think I’ve caught him by surprise because his eyebrows shoot up, and instead of taking his shot he picks up the bottle and drinks straight from it. “We need to leave. Now.”
Before I can even protest, he’s got me off his lap and tucked into his side, walking me to the bar. I watch as he closes out his tab and anxiously signs his name. He tucks his wallet away and leads me out to the line of cabs waiting outside the doors.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m drunk, but I swear I can feel him shaking beside me. Is it cold outside and I’m too drunk to notice? I look around at the other girls in dresses and miniskirts, and they seem just fine. And then it hits me: a thunderstorm is brewing, and I’m about to be in for the ride of my life.
HEATHER
The next week passes slowly in anticipation for the weekend. I didn’t realize that the second weekend in May was so soon. Crap, I need to start packing since we’re leaving Friday night—tomorrow night. Noah has been attending his bar prep course and studying like it’s what he needs to survive. I can’t tear him away from his books, but I think he might be using them as a temporary escape. It’s the one place where he is so consumed by the information before him that he doesn’t have to worry about the pressure of meeting his parents.
I have my first meeting with my physical therapist when we get back on Monday, and I’m excited to find out what he has to say. I cannot wait to get back into my pointe shoes and hike my leg up onto the barre.
However, I have been hiking my leg up for Noah lately. The night we went out with Lana, Coen, and Joel . . . he brought me home, and we both passed out, but he woke me up a few hours later and took me from behind as I lay against his hard body.
I’ve been having a difficult time sleeping so I roll over and groan, ensuring that I am loud enough for him to hear.
He glances over his shoulder at me and holy . . . whenever he wears his glasses it catches me off guard, every single time without fail.
“Are you okay? Do you need me to get your medication?”
I push myself up with my tired arms; I’m so exhausted that my body aches. I realize I must be a sleepy mess because a grin plays at his face, and I can’t explain how he makes me feel.
“I need you . . .” I try to entice him to come to bed with me.
“You are so easily and naturally beautiful. I’d rather be with you than with these notes right now.”
I watch as his muscles move, shifting under his skin as he takes his glasses off and sets them in their brown leather case. He gets up and comes to sit on my side of the bed, instead of his. He lies down in the space between the length of my body and the edge of the bed. In that space, he pulls me on top of his chest and cups my face. Ever so gently he presses his lips to mine, and I dissolve at his touch. Our legs automatically tangle together as our lips part company, and I lay my head down on his bare chest.
I draw in a heavy breath, taking in as much of him as I can before I let it out slowly, “I missed you.”
“Mmm, I noticed. You were tossing and turning.”
“See, you should have come to me earlier. I don’t sleep well without you anymore.”
His chest vibrates when his low chuckle fills the room. “If that’s the case, which it seems to be lately, what would you say to moving in together?” His chest stops moving as if he’s stopped breathing completely, or he’s holding his breath.
My heart does a flip inside my chest, and I’m now fully awake. Move in together? The old me is momentarily frightened for a second before the new me takes over. Yes, Heather, you love this man with everything you have. You know how you feel, and you know what the answer is. This internal battle seems to last minutes, but really it’s instantaneous. I lift my head and look up into his eyes, his wary, cautious eyes.
“I’d love that, Noah.”
Relief floods his features as his chest expands, and he allows himself a breath. “Fuck, I’m not even going to ask if you’re sure an
d risk you changing your answer,” he spits out before rolling me onto my back and pressing my tired, sore body into the pillow-top mattress.
“The things you do to me, Heather. You knock me off of my feet.”
The biggest smile forms on my face, and I search his eyes. “I stayed because I hoped I’d see you again,” I say softly.
I see confusion flood his face. “What do you mean?”
“In Phoenix, after we saw each other at the drive-in. I wanted to see you again, so I stayed in hopes that we’d run into each other.”
“I’m glad you did that,” he admits as he pulls the covers over our heads to kiss me slowly.
I smile against his lips and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Mmm, you could have ravished me at the drive-in, and I wouldn’t have cared.”
“Is that right? Shit, I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw you . . . and those shorts . . . fuck.”
I laugh and lock my legs around his waist. “You liked those, huh?”
“Damn right I did. Do you still have them? I’d like to get you in the shower with those. Fuck, that white material would look great wet and plastered to your ass.”
I can’t help but laugh at his comment. “Yes, I still have them.”
His cock springs to life on top of me and I reach my hand down and under his pajama bottoms, wrapping my fingers around his shaft to give him some relief.
“My place or yours?” he asks.
I shake my head slightly as I glide my hand down his silky yet stiff shaft. “I don’t care, baby; I’ll do whatever.” My eyes stay focused on the massive erection in my hands as my mouth waters.
God, could he be any more perfect?
And he’s all mine . . .
“Well, I prefer your bed. And moving your closet would be the biggest fucking task, so I can move my shit in here.”
At this moment, he could tell me he’s throwing out my nail polish collection, and I wouldn’t care. Having this man on top of me and in my hands keeps me from caring about much.
“Whatever you want . . . just shut up and put this in my mouth.”
I give him a long, hard stroke and look up at his face.
His tortured moan resonates with the high ceilings in my room—our room now. He lies on his back again, allowing me to move over him and take the head of his thick shaft into my mouth.
“Mmm . . . you are going to enjoy this,” I say as I pull him from my mouth for a deep breath.
“Fuck, Heather.”
I usually tease him before I slide down and clamp my mouth around his cock, but I can’t resist him this time. I want to take what he has in store for me. I trace my finger down the muscled V leading down to his thunderous cock, all the way down to his balls. I cup them lightly until a light shiver runs up his spine. He waits patiently for my mouth again. Holy crap, what other man waits like he does? He always thinks of me first.
I slide my free hand down my stomach and under my pajama pants to my sex. I slide a finger into myself as I hold his cock up and place my mouth around his head. He’s told me before that having both my hand and mouth on him is his unparalleled favorite. I pull his cock deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat, and then slowly slide my mouth back up to the swollen head. I wrap my thumb, index, and middle finger around his shaft as my mouth works his tip. I lube up my hand with the pre-come that is dripping down his shaft as I start to move.
I can feel his eyes on me while I’m down here so I gaze up at him as I finger myself, giving him a show that he’ll enjoy. I’m deliberately slow as I flick my tongue against the frenulum. I love sucking him; I love showing him the pure high I get from doing this, giving him such pleasure. I decide to make this show a little more interesting. I pull my finger out of myself and manage to get my pajama pants off with one hand as I run my tongue down the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. I have ample power over this Greek god as he lies there in crippling pleasure.
I sit up briefly and lift my butt, pulling my panties off. I hold the sheer white lace material up for him to admire before I move between his legs this time. I bite the inside of my cheek as I slide the lace material up over his cock, in one of the holes my legs go through. I leave them there, at the base of his thick erection and take him into my mouth again. His cock jerks in my mouth, and I know I’ve done it. I’ve pleased him so entirely, and he hasn’t even had the pleasure of coming yet. I toss my long, straight hair to one side so he can see his shaft moving in and out from my lips.
My hand is back on him, meeting my mouth as I apply more pressure and suck that much harder. His growl rips through the room, and I moan in return, sending acute vibrations down his thick, veined gift. My breasts move as I pick up my pace. He reaches down and holds my hair back in order to have a clear and flawless view of my mouth and breasts. Instead of surrendering my mouth to him, this time I stay in control and wait excitedly for his warm spurts of pleasure to roll down my throat. My panties are hanging around his cock like it’s his trophy, my triumphant Greek god. I bare my teeth the slightest bit as I move back up to his cock head. I suck him all the way to the tip before I daringly bite down.
He hisses through his teeth before warm, sea-salty liquid jets into my mouth. His long ropes of come slide down my throat, and I swallow what I can of him before he spews out of my lips and back down his shaft.
His once stiff, on-edge body relaxes, and he lays his head back against my pillow as his chest heaves for breaths of cool air.
“Fuck.”
I feel victorious inside, knowing I can bring him to his knees. It’s the greatest feeling in the world. I remove his heavy shaft from my mouth and leave my panties dangling around his base as I crawl up his body. “I enjoyed that.”
He opens his eyes and runs his fingers into my hair. “Baby, you enjoyed that too fucking much. I’m scared for your sanity.”
I move my legs to either side of his torso and straddle him. “Don’t you worry your cock for one second.”
He draws in a deep breath. “Fuck . . . say that again.”
“Cock.”
“Mmm, damn, I almost love hearing that come out of your mouth as much as I love watching my come spill from those swollen lips.”
I glance over at the clock on my nightstand, and it reads 1:43 A.M.
“Get on your back, ballerina. It’s your turn.”
I shake my head and kiss him slowly. “We’re not a tit-for-tat couple, Noah. Plus, it’s late, and you have to be up in a few hours.”
His hand moves from my hair and cups my cheek. I lean into his touch, closing my eyes as he whispers, “You are one hell of a woman, Heather.”
“You have one hell of a cock,” I mumble sleepily.
He chuckles lightly, and we adjust ourselves so I am once again in my spot. I feel his chest rumble as he laughs at my crude comment. I finally feel comfortable enough to fall asleep, and I’m moments from drifting off when I yawn.
“Oh and baby? I’m getting a new roommate tomorrow, so I’ll need you to make some space in the closet, okay?”
“Damn, there’s hardly any room in there for me; you’re going to have to clean that shit out,” he jokes—I hope—as he wraps me in his arms for the night.
I can’t decide what I’m more excited about: the fact that Noah will be reunited with his birth parents or our first road trip together. I have bought so many snacks for this trip that I’m pretty sure one of us will have a stomachache before we get there but I don’t let that stop me, stuffing all of it into the bag. Noah’s been moody this past week, which I’m sure has something to do with his bar prep course. I’m hoping I can make him forget about everything on our way there. The smile I have plastered on my face widens when I hear my front door open and close. I know without a doubt that it’s him; I can hear his slow heavy stride walking down the hall.
“Ballerina?” he calls out before walking into my bedroom.
I quickly move across the room and jump into his waiting arms. He catches
me, lifting me off of my feet, so I can wrap my legs around his firm torso. His strong hands shape around my butt and I excitedly circle my arms around his neck, plastering my lips to his.
“Yay, are you finally done?” I ask as I place multiple kisses on his lips in quick succession. “Can we leave now?” I beg and squeeze my arms tighter around his neck, breathing in his fresh, clean cologne.
His smoky laugh fills the room. “I’m done for the week. I’m sorry the course ran late today. Are we about ready to go?” He pauses and kisses me before speaking again. “I fucking love coming home to you.”
I pause at his words, and my eyes find his. My words are caught in my throat, and I can only nod, unable to reciprocate his sentiment. Although I love coming home to him, and I’m just as happy when he comes home to me, I just can’t say it. I can’t . . .
“Yes, we’re packed and ready.”
“Let’s get going, baby,” he says, setting me down gently in order to pick up our bags and carry them to the rented Range Rover.
I know that he’s noticed my apprehension, but he doesn’t mention it.
Dang it, why is he such a gentleman?
I follow him down the hall, grabbing my purse from the kitchen island, as well as the bag, which is overflowing with snacks. He stops suddenly, and I run into his back.
He turns to me and raises his eyebrow. “Ballerina . . . that bag wouldn’t happen to be filled with candy, would it?”
I smile and look down at my bag and then back up at him, blowing a strand of hair out of my face. “Yes. It’s a road trip, we have to have candy and snacks,” I try to explain.
“But we’re just going for the weekend. That damn bag looks like it’s heavier than your suitcase.”
He takes in a deep breath and it’s as if he’s just realized he will be meeting his parents for the first time. I hide my small frown and shrug, trying to keep the mood between us light.
“So. Do you want me to go the whole weekend without sugar? Do you even know how cranky I get when I don’t have any?”
He cracks a smile and winks at me. “I like how sweet you taste, and I’d like for you to keep it that way.”
A Winter's Date Page 18
