Sour

by Jennifer Woodhull

  It’s one of her tells. She’s trying to bluff her way out of something.

  “Elle. Look at my face.” With the index finger of my free hand, I slowly push her chin back to center, but she still won’t look at me. “Elle.”

  “Hmm?” Her lips are pressed tightly together, her eyes desperately examining something that’s probably nothing off to our side.

  “How would Donovan know we met Legare? What’s he up to that has Donovan so worried?”

  “It’s nothing!” She rolls her eyes and shrugs. “He cracked some joke about hiring me away from Summit. It was just one of those things people say.”

  Stunned, I step backward and pull my palm down my face. “He offered you a job? You…you didn’t tell me?”

  “No, he didn’t offer me a job.” She steps forward as I begin to pace around the room. “Noah, he didn’t offer me a job! He made a stupid joke about needing people like me and that Donovan should look out. They know each other, apparently. Like I said, it’s some kind of pissing contest between the two of them.”

  She drops her purse on the bar and closes the distance between us with half a dozen little steps. Reaching out with her fingertips, she curls her palms around my arm. “Noah, I didn’t want to move out of the office across the hall, even. You think I’d want to leave town? It was a joke.”

  I look up and her big eyes are soft, glistening, pleading for everything to be okay.

  “You wouldn’t do that, would you? You wouldn’t leave like that, without saying anything?”

  She crinkles her nose at me. “I’m about to leave you right now because if I don’t get food, I’ll die.” She bats her eyelashes sweetly, and a sigh of relief rolls through me.

  I know she wouldn’t ditch me. By this time tomorrow night, she’ll know, and everything will be different.

  “Okay, come on.” I stick my elbow out for her to take and we head out to find some dinner.

  L

  Back at the hotel, we put on our PJs and snuggle down into the sofa to watch a movie and relax. As fun as it is watching Elle’s expression as we walk up and down the strip, taking in all the crazy sights, it’s the times like this, when it’s just the two of us, hanging out, that are my favorites. Moments like this with her feel like being home.

  We’ve had a few cocktails already, and we’ve got a few mini bottles from the fridge lined up on the coffee table as well. I grab the bag of candy I purchased earlier in the week, along with the Mberries, and put them beside the drinks.

  “Okay, I know you keep saying you hate sour gummies,” I open a package.

  “I do. This is well established, so please tell me my chocolate is in there,” Elle looks at the array of snack options skeptically.

  “Okay, well, here’s the thing…these,” I hold up the Mberry package, “Are magic!”

  “Did you trade a cow for them? Wait, wait…did someone give you a funny-tasting brownie? You didn’t take a sticker from a stranger, did you?” She grabs my face in her tiny hands theatrically. “Look at my face! What’s your name? Who’s the president?”

  I quirk an eyebrow up at her.

  “I’m serious. If you eat these, anything sour will taste magically sweet.”

  “A berry that makes gross stuff taste good?” She picks up the package, examining it.

  “A berry that makes awesome stuff taste differently awesome,” I correct her.

  “I dunno, Adler,” Elle says dubiously.

  “Can’t you just give them a chance, Elle?” I give her an intense look. I need her to trust me about a helluva lot more than this over the next couple of days.

  “You usually don’t steer me wrong,” her lips are quirked to the side.

  “Okay, then close your eyes and open your mouth and get ready for something awesome,” I wriggle my eyebrows playfully.

  “I think I’ve watched a porno that started off with that line,” she laughs as she closes her eyes.

  “Wait, you watch porn?” My curiosity is piqued. Is my girl secretly dirtier than I gave her credit for?

  “I don’t watch porn, I have watched porn before,” she clarifies, eyes now firmly shut.

  “A distinction without a difference. You are a dark horse, Elle.” I open the packet and pop one of the little capsules from its container. “Okay, open up.”

  She parts her lips until they’re open to an O shape and moves the tip of her tongue until it just meets her bottom lip.

  Holy fuck. Hottest thing ever.

  The sight makes my dick react instantly. I clear my throat and put the fat little pill on her tongue.

  “Okay, hold it there for a minute,” I instruct, before popping one in my own mouth. “Wait for it to dissolve.”

  “I doan tathe anythin,” she holds the tablet between her tongue and the roof of her mouth.

  “Give it a minute, impatient!” I laugh and open the package of sour gummy worms.

  I pop one into my mouth and am shocked by the explosion of flavor.

  “Elle! Oh my God, you have to try this! Here, open up,” I hold the worm above her head.

  She tilts her head back, making a cheep-cheep sound like a little bird, and opens her mouth. She is so awesomely ridiculous and at the same time, her head tipped back, her mouth open is sexy as fuck, and I’m tempted to lick the long line of creamy flesh along her neck.

  “Holy shit!” Elle exclaims. “If they always tasted like this, I’d suck down a bag of these as fast as you do.”

  Her laugh is easy and warm as she leans back against my shoulder on the sofa.

  “Ooh let me try that gross one you made me eat when I came back from Germany,” she points to the bag of fruit slices.

  “If you mean awesome one, you’re looking for the peach slice,” I say digging one out of the bag. “Here,” I hold it up and she opens her mouth.

  I graze her lips with my thumb as she closes them around the candy. God, she’s beautiful. As sweet as this candy tastes, I’d rather be tasting her.

  We watch the movie for a few minutes, then she bolts up and grabs my knee.

  “Oh my God—I almost forgot! I have a fruit cup from this morning’s breakfast in the fridge!” She jumps up and runs to the refrigerator.

  I grab my phone and look up other things to try with the berries. “Hey, I think there’s some Guinness in the mini-bar—grab that too!” I yell, and she gives me a thumbs up.

  She tries the pineapple first.

  “That is cra-zy!” Elle exclaims, putting a piece up to my lips. I tug the fruit with my lips. It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Full of flavor. When she moves her hand from my lips, I grab it, and suck the rest of the juice from the pads of her fingers with a smacking sound. She giggles and scrunches up her face.

  Next, we each take a sip of the Guinness. It tastes just like chocolate. Elle gives me a sweet smile and sinks back next to me on the sofa. “Thank you for getting me to try this. It was fun,” She says, jabbing me softly in the ribs with her elbow.

  “Thanks for being a good sport. See? You thought you wouldn’t like it until you tried it, but you were wrong.” I turn to look at her and put my arm around her on the back of the sofa. “You never know what else you might be wrong about, Elle…what you might like if you were willing to give it a try.” I wriggle my eyebrows and she rolls her eyes.

  “Oh, God! Why do I suspect that whatever you’re going to have me do for this bet is going to be terrifying?” She shakes her head, but she’s smiling playfully.

  “It might be, but I think you’ll enjoy it if you’ll let yourself,” I reply with a wink. “You can try anything you want while we’re out here. You know what they say about what happens in Vegas.

  Chapter 19

  Elle

  We may have had more to drink over the course of the night than I realized, because I feel warm and happy. Also, I can’t feel the tip of my nose.

  “Okay, okay,” Noah slices his palms through the air as the c
redits roll on the movie we’ve been watching. “That’s it! Off to bed with you, young lady. We’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

  “I’m not even sleepy.” I kneel to face him and wriggle my eyebrows. “Let’s watch another. Old school movie marathon—it’ll be so much fun!”

  “We have a long drive tomorrow. Besides, I want you fully alert when I collect on the bet.” He winks and clicks the button on the remote to turn off the television.

  “Come on!” I tug on his hand. “We haven’t had that much time together this week. Let’s stay up a little longer and hang out.”

  He rocks his head from side to side then turns to give me a devilish grin. “Okay, we could play truth or dare.”

  I roll my eyes. “What are you, twelve?”

  “Okay, if you don’t want to…,” he stands, shrugs, and steps forward as if he’s going to walk to his room.

  “Okay! Okay.” I put my palms up. “Truth or dare, but I get to go first.” He grabs us each another drink and plops down on the sofa beside me.

  I tap my finger against my lips and consider my first question. My lips curl into a grin. “Where was the first place you had sex?”

  He throws his head back, laughing, and combs his fingers through his hair. “That’s an embarrassing one, but truth. Jenny Dwyer’s grandma’s basement. We were sixteen. We were supposed to be watching movies and one thing led to another.” He winks and takes a draw from his beer. I choose truth and he asks, “Have you ever kissed another girl?”

  “No! Never even practiced on each other. We used oranges.” I shake my head back and forth, laughing at our silliness during preteen practice sessions.

  We go back and forth on most embarrassing moments, first kisses, and biggest regrets. When it’s my turn to answer, Noah turns to me, his eyes suddenly intense. “Okay, truth or dare?”

  “Truth!” I answer confidently, sitting up straight.

  “Okay, the other night…when you lost the bet…,” he leans forward, crowding my space and making me feel suddenly smaller than usual. “What were you thinking about…or should I say who were you thinking about?” He cocks an eyebrow up and my throat goes suddenly drier than the desert around us.

  “I…I…Noah, that’s too far. I can’t answer that!” I feel my cheeks flush with crimson.

  “So, you choose dare?”

  “I want a different question,” I manage to eke out.

  “That’s not how this works, Elle, you know that. Do you take truth, or do you take dare?”

  I blow out a long, slow breath, and drop my eyes. “Dare.”

  His lips slowly curl into the sexiest smirk.

  “So, what’s the dare?” I’m eager to get my torture out of the way.

  He slides his arm around me onto the back of the sofa and inches closer.

  “Noah.”

  His smile grows wider.

  “Noah, what’s the dare?”

  “You have to do it. Those are the rules of truth or dare.”

  “I know,” I roll my eyes. “Just tell me.” I clutch the neck of his t-shirt in frustration. “Tell me!”

  “Kiss me.”

  My brows dip and I blink twice. I must be drunker than I thought. “What did you say?”

  “Kiss me. That’s the dare.”

  “We cannot do that.” I shake my head back and forth.

  “But we can, and we have to. Those are the rules of truth or dare.” He tucks a tendril that has worked its way loose from my ponytail behind my ear. Suddenly, I can feel my pulse beating wildly in my neck.

  “Why?” I creak out. “Why would you want to do that?”

  He sighs softly, tracing my cheek with his fingertip. “I just do.”

  I look down, wringing my hands, then look back up to meet his eye.

  “Am I so repulsive that you can’t even contemplate it?” His eyes are soft, seeking validation.

  “No, you’re…not at all. You know better than that. If you really want to, I’ll do it, I guess.”

  “Not the level of enthusiasm I was hoping for, Bailey, but I’ll take it.” He wriggles his eyebrows.

  “So…how does this work?”

  “How does kissing work? I put my lips on your lips, then move. There might be some sucking, or nibbling. Maybe a little tongue.” He’s grinning wide and his eyes are dancing.

  “I know how kissing works, dumbass! I mean with us.” I roll my eyes.

  “Oh, well, let’s start with this…scoot over here.” He takes my hand and pats his leg.

  “Here,” I straddle his lap, putting my hands on his shoulders. “This is better. I want leverage.”

  He laughs a big, full laugh. “Leverage? What is this, collegiate rules wrestling?”

  I smack his shoulder with my palm. “Can we get this over with already?”

  “Wow, you seem really excited. Stop stroking my ego, please.” He rolls his eyes and chuckles, then slides his hands around my waist and pulls me closer. His eyes scan my face, landing on my lips as he closes in.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have me wash your car or something?” I ask in a small voice just before his lips reach mine.

  “I’m positive.” He has one hand firmly on my lower back as the other glides up to clutch the back of my neck.

  This is a bad, awful, terrible idea.

  He pulls me closer, then pauses before his lips meet mine. His eyes scan mine, he parts his lips, inhales the air between us and crashes his lips to mine. His lips press and tug, soft and strong, pulling me into a blissful oblivion. I sigh, collapsing against him as my body begs for more. I wrap an arm around his neck, digging my nails into his back as my other palm caresses his impossibly chiseled jaw. When he finally releases my mouth, I’m panting.

  Noah. Adler. Kissed. Me.

  I wish I had a diary or a journal or something so I could write that down. Those four words would take up a whole page. They would be in color—red, maybe, and have embellishments. Probably glitter.

  I have never felt so strange. I am certain I went through the entire gamut of human emotions in under a minute. Scientists should study what happened. They should shave someone’s head, attach electrodes and monitors, and have Noah kiss them to observe what happens. I am certain they would discover a new human emotion from the study. It would be groundbreaking. Nobel prizes would be awarded.

  Except, I never want Noah to kiss anyone again. If he does, I will die. I could be a thousand miles away, and if his lips touched someone else, my heart would instantly stop beating. I would simply slump to the ground in a pile. “Such a young woman,” people observing my lifeless body would say. “What do you suppose happened?”

  “Oh,” someone else would add, “I’ve heard of this. Adler Syndrome—very tragic.”

  My brain is swimming, my body is humming and from somewhere deep within my consciousness, there is only one word that will form.

  More.

  My chest heaves, my breath ragged as I look down at his cruelly handsome face. His eyes narrow, determined, and he pulls me back to him.

  “What are you doing?” I barely get the words out.

  “Tell me you don’t want more, and I’ll know you’re a liar.” His voice is deep and gravelly.

  I press my palms to his face, my eyes darting from dark, fiery eyes to lips that are moist and swollen from exploring mine.

  I growl my agreement. “More.”

  He crashes his lips against mine and pulls me impossibly close against his body. His tongue teases the seam of my lips and they part for him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The heat from his broad palm radiates against my skin as he slides it under the back of my t-shirt. When his hand slides up the back of my thigh, cupping my cheek under the fabric of my shorts, it brings back the memory of his fingers inside me. The thin cotton sleep shorts are all I’m wearing, and they are drenched from having this perfect man in such close proximity. I lean forward, pressing into his hard
ness, and he moans against my mouth.

  This might be the best terrible idea anyone has ever had.

  As our lips part, his hands go to my waist, his hips rise and fall and he’s so hard, pressing into my drenched shorts, I don’t know how the thin fabric of his pants can contain him. He wraps his arms around me and lifts me up, laying me on my back on the sofa. He kisses my jaw, my neck, my throat and tugs at the hem of my t-shirt.

  “I want my shirt back,” he says, tugging hard enough at the hem of my t-shirt to distort the words Cedar Point written in white across the front.

  “Noah, what are we doing?”

  “Well, right now we’re making out.” He nips at my lips and slides his hand down my sides and across my belly. His palm slides down, cupping between my legs and my weak body tips up to meet his touch. “And next, I’m going to finish what I started the other night.”

  I must have gotten so drunk I passed out because none of this can be real.

  “We’re friends, Noah.” His tongue slides against my neck and I grow weaker.

  “We’re adults. We can do whatever we want.” He leans forward so I can feel his hard length pressing into my thigh. “So, the question is, what do you want, Elle? If you want me to stop, I’ll stop, but I don’t think that’s what you want. I think you liked what I did the other night, and you’d like more. As for me, I can’t think of anything I want more in this moment than to make you come.”

  His lips gently brush against mine and I’m done. I clutch his face in my palms. “Just…careful, okay?”

  Just like he always does, he gets me. He winces and his head shakes slowly from side to side. “You know I’ll never hurt you, sweetheart. Never.”

  He slides my shirt up and my nipples turn to stones.

  He barely whispers, “So fucking perfect.”

  His lips capture a hard peak, kissing oh so sweetly, then parting to let his tongue circle before closing his mouth over the circle of flesh. My hands rake through his dark hair, clutching him closer as his fingers make their way down my belly, breaching the waistband of my shorts.