by Terri Osburn
“Clothes,” she panted. “Too many clothes.”
Holding her up with his hips, Noah tugged his T-shirt over his head. Her fingers went straight to the hair on his chest, finding the scar behind the fur.
“How did you get this?”
“Not important,” he said, preferring not to discuss his battle wounds. “You said something about being prepared?”
Biting her bottom lip, Carrie nodded. “We stopped for a box of condoms on the way here.”
Thank God. “Remind me to thank your friends later.”
Trailing a finger down the middle of his chest, she purred, “This was their idea. We need to send them something nice.”
“I’ll get right on that,” he said, taking her mouth again.
Seconds later they reached his bed, mostly by luck, since he was too busy savoring the woman in his arms to watch where he was going. Noah let her slide down his body, lifting the hem of her shirt as she went. The feathered scarf came off with the shirt, and both flew through the air as his lips closed over gauzy lace. Carrie shoved her hands into his hair as her body bowed for him.
Teasing her nipple through the material, Noah undid the hooks in the back with one hand and dragged delicate straps off her shoulders. The brown bag landed on the bed as she sighed against him. Cupping her breasts, he stared into her eyes, seeing his own desire reflected in their blue depths.
“I’ll never be worthy of this,” he confessed.
“Shhh,” she murmured, brushing her fingers over his lips. “None of that tonight.”
Kissing the tip of her finger, he brushed his thumbs over her nipples. When she moaned, he said, “I want to make you do that all night long.”
Pressing against his hands, she reached for the button on his jeans. “I want that, too. But I have a favor to return first, remember?” Carrie bit his nipple at the same time she lowered his zipper. When her fingers touched his cock, Noah surrendered to the fire.
Carrie licked her way down Noah’s hard body, sampling every dip and groove as she went. The moment she pushed cotton and denim over his incredible backside, he sprang free, red and pulsing and all for her.
She blew over the tip, eliciting a guttural moan from his broad chest. Carrie couldn’t remember ever feeling this powerful. Noah didn’t even attempt to take control. To set the pace. No demands or criticism. Only total surrender. His hand in her hair gentle. Patient but desperate for more. The first taste was hot and salty, and Noah’s body shook with need. Determined to give as much as he had, she took him deep, gripping his thighs, marveling at the ripple of muscle as he fought to stay upright.
“Carrie, baby. That’s so good.”
Scraping her nails down the back of his legs, she sucked harder, emboldened by his sighs of pleasure. She remembered how it had felt when he touched her, and her own arousal grew. Increasing the pace, Carrie cupped his balls, and Noah growled as his hips thrust forward.
“I’m on the edge, honey. Your hot little mouth is driving me crazy.”
He thrust harder with every suck until his body went stiff and the warm liquid hit the back of her throat. She held on through the tremors, licking the last drop from his tip before Noah lifted her onto the bed and tumbled down beside her. His body continued to shake while he buried his face in her neck.
“Not a bad start?” she said, hoping he didn’t plan on taking a nap before they got to the good stuff.
Noah flipped onto his back. “Best start ever.”
Encouraging words, but his eyes were still closed. Seconds passed as she waited for him to make a move. The clock ticked. Her buzz faded.
“If you’re tired, I should go,” she said, rising off the bed.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said, pulling her on top of him until they were chest to chest, his penis twitching against her stomach. “Now why would you want to leave after that?”
She twirled her finger in his chest hair. “You looked ready to fall asleep.”
“Honey,” he said, wedging an arm behind his head, “I’m a thirty-four-year-old man who hasn’t had sex in nearly a year. You’re lucky I lasted as long as I did, but you’re going to have to give me a second to recover.”
Carrie wasn’t accustomed to this kind of honesty. “I assumed you were done. For the night.”
His laughter forced her to hold on to his shoulders. “Darling, we could spend a week in this bed and I still wouldn’t be done with you.” Without warning, he rolled until they’d switched positions. “Now, I think it’s time we get you out of those jeans and open the present you brought.” Warm lips brushed her collarbone. “Isn’t that what you want, honey?” A wet tongue circled her left nipple. “For me to taste you. To be inside you, buried deep when the orgasm hits, making you melt all over me.”
Sweet Jesus, he was good at this.
He took her breast in his mouth, stealing her ability to think let alone speak. All Carrie could do was feel. His mouth. His heat. His rock-hard ass. And something else that proved recovery time was over.
Noah lifted himself off the bed, standing before her with no shame or reserve, a man well aware of his power and prowess. His eyes devoured her, intensifying the heat between her legs.
“The jeans?” he said, one heavy brow lifted. She’d assumed he intended to remove them, but Noah showed no signs of reaching for her. Holding his gaze, she unbuttoned the pants and lifted her bottom to shimmy them down her legs. He finally offered assistance when the denim reached her ankles. Without breaking eye contact, he tugged the jeans over her feet and threw them on the floor. “I’ll take it from here,” he said, placing one knee on the bed.
To her surprise, he reached over her and flicked on the bedside lamp. “What are you doing?”
“I want to see you while we do this. Watch your eyes darken when I touch you.” Following words with action, he pressed one finger against her panties. “Like that.”
He could watch anything he wanted so long as he kept touching her there.
“You like that?” he asked, rubbing against her clit.
“Yes,” she cried. “Do it again.” Noah honored her command, this time sliding her panties to the side to put skin on skin. “That’s it.” Her hips rose off the bed. “More, Noah. Please. I need more.”
The panties followed the rest of her clothes to the floor before he lifted her knees to plant her feet on the bed. “Time to prepare,” he said, his voice deep and full of promise. He ripped the box of condoms open and tore through a package with his teeth. Watching him slide the thin barrier over his erection was the most erotic thing Carrie had ever witnessed. When he was completely sheathed, Noah took his position between her legs, lifting one of her ankles to rest on his shoulder. “Scoot down for me, baby.”
Anticipation beat a steady rhythm through her bloodstream as heat pooled between her legs. True to his word, he watched her face as he slid two fingers inside her. Carrie fisted her hands in the blanket as her back arched.
“So wet, baby.”
In one swift motion, he removed his fingers and lifted her hips to drive inside. Every fiber of her being cried out in pleasure. This was what she wanted. What she needed. Noah withdrew and entered again with slow but deliberate movements. Each thrust driving her higher. Fanning the flame she feared might consume her.
“I can’t hold back anymore,” he growled, dropping her foot to the bed and leaning over her as he thrust in harder.
“Don’t hold back,” she said, locking her hands around his neck. “This is what I want, Noah. You’re what I want.”
Everything shifted into high gear as he doubled the pace. Carrie held on, heat coiling through her body as muscles tensed and toes dug into the bed. When he reached down to cup her bottom, lifting her at an angle as he plunged deep, her tether snapped and the world fell away, replaced by light and wave after wave of wicked sensations that numbed her teeth and overwhelmed her mind. The echo of his name still rang in her ears when she opened her eyes to see Noah hovering above her, teeth bared an
d eyes closed tight. With one final thrust, he roared his release before dropping his forehead to her chest.
Shaking, content, and happier than she’d ever been, Carrie brushed damp strands off his forehead as the last of the orgasm rippled through him. Muscles like hot steel slowly relaxed until he collapsed atop her. Neither spoke as she traced the tattoo on his shoulder. She’d seen the image before but never on someone’s skin. A helmet balanced on the handle of a weapon held upright by a pair of boots.
“For the friends I lost,” he said quietly against her neck.
Carrie nodded, emotion clogging her throat. He’d been through so much. Too much. And yet he was still gentle and generous and caring. The kind of man a woman would be lucky to have in her life. The kind of man she would fight to keep in her life.
Chapter 13
The first thing Noah realized as he drifted awake on that bright Sunday morning was the woman snoring softly near his chin. Eyes still closed, he smiled. But a second revelation followed the first as he registered the soreness in his thighs and lower back. A reminder that he’d been away from the gym for far too long. The third revelation hit the strongest.
No nightmares. No dreams at all. Granted, they’d probably slept maybe five or six hours, but that was a non-nightmare record in his world.
Careful not to jostle the woman sprawled across his chest, Noah checked the clock beside the bed. Nine thirty. Another record. He hadn’t slept past O-seven-hundred since before boot camp. As he extended one leg, Carrie curled up tighter along his side, causing a reaction that was evident through the sheet.
“Why is it so bright in here?” she asked, tossing a leg over his hip.
“I don’t have curtains,” he answered, formulating a plan for how they could spend the morning.
Carrie lifted her head to rest her chin on his sternum. “How do you not have curtains?” She perused the room and said, “You don’t have anything. Noah, where’s all your furniture?”
“If you haven’t noticed, you’re on a bed,” he said. “That’s all I need in here.”
Leaning up higher, she checked the walls behind her, providing a mouthwatering view of pink-tipped breasts. “You don’t even have a nightstand.”
Noah pointed to his left. “I have a stool. It works.” The short, round wooden barstool fit the clock and a lamp. And his Louis L’Amour paperback.
Blue eyes went wide. “Nine thirty?” she exclaimed, hopping off the bed. “I was supposed to pick up Molly by nine. Our service has already started, and Rosie’s church starts in half an hour.” Scrambling to find her clothes, she shot him a frustrated look. “Could you not have thrown them all in the same spot? Where’s my bra?”
“Calm down, hon.” Noah preferred the purring woman he’d spent the night with to this morning version. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he spotted her bra hanging from the empty curtain rod over the window. “If your church stuff has already started, then you won’t make it anyway. And whoever Rosie is, I’m sure she won’t mind taking Molly with her.”
“I need to call her.” She searched the pockets of her jeans. “Where’s my phone?”
He snatched the bra off the curtain rod. “I haven’t seen a phone.” Padding across the ancient hardwood, he stepped up behind her and kissed her ear. “Take a breath, babe. We haven’t had a proper good morning.” Hand flattened against her stomach, he tossed the bra on the bed so he could caress her breast.
“Oh, Noah,” she said, pushing back against him. “I don’t have time for this.”
Dropping his hand to play between her legs, he trailed his teeth along her shoulder. “You’re already late. What’s a few more minutes?”
Her back arched, her ass riding his erection. “A few more minutes might be okay.” Noah rolled her clit, drawing the moan he craved. “I can definitely make time,” she breathed, dropping her clothes to lock her hands on his hips.
“We need a condom, babe,” he whispered in her ear, his breathing harsh as he held himself back.
“Where did we leave them?” she asked, cradling the base of his cock.
This was not the time for a scavenger hunt. Noah peered over her shoulder to see the box teetering on the edge of a bottom corner of the bed. Within reach, thank the sex gods. Ripping through the packaging, he sheathed himself in seconds and lifted Carrie to kneel on the bed, slamming inside her as soon as he had her in position. With a cry of ecstasy, she met the thrust, dropping her head to the covers.
His body tensed as her heat and scent surrounded him. She spread her knees farther apart and took him deep enough to make him see stars. Noah growled as power coiled through his body. Determined to hold on until she came first, he gritted his teeth, leaning forward to slide a finger between her legs. Carrie clenched down as the orgasm shot through her, and Noah let himself go, pulling her up off the bed to hold her to his chest.
This is mine, he thought, sinking his teeth into her shoulder while she shuddered against him. He would defeat his demons for this woman. Or die trying.
Though Carrie felt bad about skipping church and leaving Molly with Rosie for so long, she regretted nothing about how she’d spent the night. Or the morning. Once she’d managed to get her clothes on, something Noah seemed determined not to let happen, she’d found her phone at the base of the stairs where it must have fallen out of her pocket when Noah carried her in.
That was a nice memory. Petite or not, Carrie didn’t get toted around by big, strapping men very often. In fact, often was the wrong word since she’d never been swept off her feet like that. Did it count as being swept if she actually jumped? Eh. The details didn’t matter.
What did matter was that the night had been everything she’d hoped and more. When Noah looked at her, she felt wanted and sexy. When he touched her, her brain turned to mush and her body ignited. And then there was the beard. She totally understood the fascination with those now. Holy moly.
The little bit of battery left on the phone had been enough to read Lorelei’s text.
Granny is taking Molly to church. No rush.
She’d even added the obvious emoticon in case Carrie missed the underlying message of feel free to keep having sex. In truth, she’d been tempted to do just that, but if they didn’t spend some time apart, Carrie might lose the ability to walk. When she’d expressed that thought to Noah, he’d appeared quite proud of himself, but she’d caught the telltale stutter in his step as well. He hadn’t been impervious to the night’s rigorous activities, either.
The moment she stepped into Mamacita’s Mexican Restaurant, Carrie spotted her daughter in a high chair straight ahead. Nodding to the hostess, she said, “I see my party right down there, thanks.” Navigating through the tables, she waved to Lorelei, who informed Molly that there was someone special behind her. The child’s face lit up when she spotted her mother. “Hey there, baby.” Carrie kissed the top of her head. “Did you have fun with Granny Rosie?”
Carrie’s mother lived in Kentucky, her sister in New Mexico, and her brother occupied parts unknown on a sub somewhere in the Pacific. Her father still lived on the outskirts of town, but she’d broken ties with him years ago. Gary Lockwood had ruled his family with an iron fist and a steel-toed boot. No one had been spared, but her mother had endured the worst. Another reason Carrie had stayed with Patch. In her experience, women stayed no matter what. It wasn’t until six months before his death that her mom had broken free of her abusive marriage and skipped town for a man she’d met online.
Carrie hadn’t even known her mother knew how to use the Internet, let alone dating sites.
With her family all scattered to the winds, having surrogate family around helped fill a hole in Molly’s life. And made Carrie feel less alone in the world. Some higher power had been smiling down on her the night Lorelei had saved her from another beating.
“So?” Lorelei said as Carrie took the seat across from her and opened her menu.
“I haven’t had the fajitas for a while,” she replied, keeping
her eyes on the delicious options.
“No you don’t, missy. Spill.”
Carrie closed the menu. “I’m not sharing details with my daughter sitting right here.”
Lorelei rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t even speak English yet.”
As if to prove her auntie wrong, Molly said, “Mum Mum Mum Mum.”
“You’re not helping, kid.”
“It went well,” Carrie shared. “Very, very well.”
“As in ‘I was home by midnight but smiling’ well or ‘I saw God several times’ well?”
Unable to keep the pink from her cheeks, she said, “The second one.”
“Whoot!” Lorelei exclaimed, raising the roof. “Do we need to buy you another box of con—”
“People can hear you,” Carrie pointed out, flashing an awkward smile to the two older ladies at the next table over.
Lorelei waved to their neighbors. “They’ve had sex before. They can handle a little morning-after chatter.”
“Maybe they can, but I’m not used to this.”
“Not used to what?” she asked, tossing a corn chip into her mouth.
Carrie caught her menu before Molly could throw it into the air. “Until last summer, I never had friends like this. Girlfriends you could say anything to. The only reason I was so open in the limo yesterday was the champagne. Sharing intimate details is new for me.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Lorelei said, twirling the straw in her water glass. “I’m just happy to hear that you had a good time.”
“Really?” Carrie didn’t believe her for a second.
“Of course not,” she said. “But I’m not going to force the details out of you. I might die of curiosity, but not for a few days at least.”
That wasn’t manipulative at all. “We can talk about it without going into detail, right? I mean, I can tell you that I didn’t get your text until well after ten this morning because we were still . . . busy. He’s so sweet and caring and when he holds me, I feel, I don’t know, special, I guess. Protected.”
