by Kat T. Masen
“Just a taste of what’s to come,” I murmur, my mouth hovering over hers.
She smiles wickedly, running her tongue across her bottom lip. “I’ve got quite an appetite.”
“You need to go,” I tell her with discontent. “But don’t for one second think this is over. I’ll be here, waiting, as soon as you’re done.”
She runs her hands down my arms, gripping onto my biceps as she pulls herself down. Even now, after all is done, her simple touch is melting away at me. Her legs shake while she tries to maintain her balance, latching onto me again for support.
I reach down and pull my pants up, leaving my belt unbuckled. After all, I expect her back here as soon as her meeting is over. Then, the real fun will begin.
She makes a dash to the bathroom to grab some tissues. After cleaning herself up, she straightens her dress and fixes her hair. I walk to where she’s standing and position myself behind her back. Our images reflect in the mirror, and as if my heart has completely fallen out of my chest, I know only one thing.
This feels right.
She breaks my gaze and latches onto the door handle. I reach out for her arm, pulling her into me one more time.
“Are we okay?”
The silence falls between us, worrying me that something’s wrong. As the panic begins to build, she traces the bottom of my jaw. Her lips, swollen and pouty, curve upward into a dreamy smile.
“Noah,” she asserts, rolling her tongue, seducing me with only the call of my name. “We’re more than okay.”
Chapter Eighteen
Morgan
He has no clue what he’s done to me.
And I hate myself.
For wanting him.
For desiring every part of him.
The moment he stepped into my office, I saw my former self. The person I used to be before I allowed myself to be burdened with the weight that rested on other people’s shoulders. I tried to resist him, but his cocky attitude got the best of me. His presence alone, sitting across the desk the first time we met, stirred this buried emotion—desire.
A muscular build hidden behind this perfectly fitted navy suit. Tall, with hair styled modern and slicked to the side accentuating his strong jawline. And although my body instantly craved to touch him, it was his deep blue eyes that had me drowning and begging for a life jacket.
But I have a bad habit of screwing guys and walking away. Or at least, I used to.
Noah Mason is a wrecking ball. Taking me along with him, even though every part of me tried to push him away.
And then, without any warning, he fucked me. Against the door, hard and full of grunt. In less than ten minutes he’d done things to me that I’ve never experienced in this lifetime. He’s opened the doors and freed Violet Winters—a woman caged and living in the shadows of her famous sister.
I manage to wrap up the meeting without too much trouble. Jacque offered me a nightcap in his room which I kindly refuse.
I know Noah has difficulty expressing his emotions, but he plays the part of a jealous man to a T.
The question remains—do I go back up to Noah’s room or not?
For minutes, I sit at the bar contemplating my next move. Wondering how I find myself here. Why life chooses to throw this giant curveball at me, as if I don’t have enough on my plate.
And then there are no more questions.
I quickly find myself outside his door, knocking, and the moment he opens it wearing only a towel which he conveniently drops when he sees me, I know I can’t turn back.
He takes me again, against the wall, this time turning me around and fucking me from behind. He has the stamina of a stallion, and although I’m utterly exhausted, he finishes by laying me on the bed and giving me everything I need at that moment. Slow, dirty, erotic sex.
My body has exerted itself. Something I haven’t experienced sexually before. I’ve done many things, and many men, but he’s like some sex god attentive to all my needs. Previously, I had joked that I was a receiver. Selfish would be the appropriate word. Yeah, I’ve blown guys, but almost always, I want all the attention.
Yet with Noah, I want to give back.
Running my nails along his muscular, lean torso and grating his abs, his cock teases me relentlessly, standing tall and begging for attention. I don’t hold back, nor do I tease, running my mouth down his body like a marathon race until I take him all in. My lips envelop around his shaft and relaxing my back muscles, I push down as far as my throat will allow. His groan follows, deep and husky, hands messing my hair as he pushes me onto him deeper.
My body reacts, again. Although sore and sensitive from where he’s been on me, my nipples become erect. The hardening a mixture of pleasure and pain. He begs me to stop, but I’m cruel that way, carrying on because I need all of him in my mouth.
But his strength outweighs mine. And in just one move, he has me on all fours. My knees begin to wobble, tired and exhausted. He knows what he’s doing to me, but the selfish bastard doesn’t care. He tells me what he wants.
All of me.
Now.
Here.
Tonight.
And I want all of those things too. I want him to take me everywhere in this room and show me what he’s got. Lay all cards on the table. Take me in every way he’s imagined in his dirty mind until my legs are no longer wobbling but paralyzed instead.
But reality has a way of knocking the fantasy straight out of you. I know I can’t stay, and I have learned fairly quickly that Noah isn’t a patient man. He demands things and doesn’t take well to his needs not being met.
Although the hotel sits in a busy part of Los Angeles, the noise outside cannot be heard inside the four walls of this room. Dead silence, just the beats of our hearts crazily in sync with each other. The most terrifying sound you can hear. Each beat, loud and peculiar, sends chills throughout me.
Noah runs his hands along my arm, slowly warming my skin. He doesn’t realize or understand the complexity of the situation. And now isn’t the moment, so I do the only thing I’ve learned to do around him—run away.
“I need to go, Noah, I have things I need to do in the morning.”
“Why can’t you stay?” Anger and desperation filters through his tone.
Questions. More damn questions.
Every time I try to be civil, we end up arguing and getting into a fight like we’re an old married couple. And sometimes, I purposely pick a fight because I have no idea how else to push him away. I don’t want to hurt him, and every part of me knows that every second that goes past, I’m weaving a bigger web for myself.
“Because I’ve stayed as long as I can tonight. Please, don’t fight with me. Don’t ruin what just happened between us,” I say, keeping the sadness away from my face and replacing it with the smallest of smiles.
He brushes his finger along my lip, hooded eyes watching me suspiciously. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” I repeat, above a whisper.
I’m not an emotional person, always finding some way to block the pain. And even at my mother’s funeral, I didn’t shed a tear for fear of coming across weak in front of our family and friends. It was three days later when I finally broke down. Driving to campus for an important exam. I never told Dad or Scarlett how my car stopped at the red light and by the time it turned green, I couldn’t move. Paralyzed with pain. The hurt hit me with such force that my catatonic state alarmed the drivers around me. When I managed to snap out of it, I drove myself to the nearest frat house and lost myself to alcohol, drugs, and sex with random guys. It was my darkest hour. An hour that lasted four days until my friend found me and physically dragged me out of the house.
But something about Noah has struck a nerve. One that I’m struggling to hold back.
I dress and leave him there, hurrying to my car where I drive home in a confused state of mind.
It’s late, just before midnight when I step inside the house and quietly place my keys on the hall table.
“
You’re late,” he says from within the living room.
The room is dimly lit, only the small lamp illuminating a corner of the large room. I stop and keep my back to him, afraid he can see it etched on my face.
“I had stuff that had to be taken care of.”
He remains silent, breathing quietly as I wait nervously for him to speak. “He asked for you.”
And then, the guilt and shame override any happiness I felt for the past few hours. My heart almost falls to the ground, heavy and saddened by the hurt I’ve inflicted on him. Unintentionally, yet still, I should have known better.
Dragging my feet, riddled with guilt, I make my way toward the back of the house and quietly open the door to his room. His nightlight is on, sitting just above his pillow. With gentle snores, I tiptoe to his bed and see him curled in a ball, holding onto his favorite train Gordon. The oldest and wisest train that lives on the island of Sodor. I don’t dare take it out of his hands, instead pulling the blanket over and stopping just below his chin.
Leaning in, I kiss his forehead and pull away, watching him for a few moments. He doesn’t realize how special he is. Despite the challenges he faces on a daily basis, he belongs in the hearts of so many people. Mine, completely full of love for him. And all I want to do is protect him.
I close the door, leaving it slightly ajar in case he calls out through the night. I walk back to my room, where he’s lying on our bed, keeping to his own side.
“He didn’t settle well.”
I apologize again, displaying my guilt. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
“You’re busy,” he says with his iPad in his lap. “I’ll be out of town this weekend. Will you be okay?”
His eyes linger on mine, and I can read him perfectly. Like me, he carries his own guilt. I know he isn’t comfortable admitting it, and I’m not comfortable asking about it. I know this—her name is Jodi and she has a knack for messaging him when he’s in the shower.
I remove my bracelet and place it on the dresser. “Uh… yeah, I think Dad’s coming into town anyway.”
He nods, shifting his focus back to his iPad. I make my way to the bathroom and peel off my clothes. My skin is red, marked and tainted by Noah. I close my eyes for a brief moment, running my hands along my breasts, tracing his steps. I shouldn’t want more, but my body craves it more than I could have imagined. I shower long enough to ease my sore muscles, and when I’m dressed for bed, I turn the light off in the bathroom and stand beside our bed.
He keeps to his side, again, and I climb in. The click of the lamp echoes through the room, the darkness falls between us.
“It’ll work out, Morgan,” he says quietly in the dark.
It has to. I have no way of controlling how I feel anymore. And no way of pulling my heart out of this game, afraid the feelings which have consumed me since the moment Noah stepped in my office have led to one thing.
I am in love with him.
Chapter Nineteen
Noah
In just a few days, my life has gone from depressing to exhilarating. Something in Morgan has changed—her fun and carefree attitude is a breath of fresh air. And although work is crazy and pulls both of us in opposite directions, we still manage to find time for each other whenever we have a moment to spare.
If it weren’t for work, I would demand more of her time. However, I know how dedicated she is to her job, and to her sister, putting my selfish needs on hold until we are alone.
And I never hold back.
I’m obsessed with her body and find myself worshipping every inch of it. She’s so fucking beautiful that even when I’m not with her, my mind and cock are in sync, desperate to smell her skin and taste it with my tongue.
We have pushed the boundaries, fucking anywhere we can. From the car to restaurant restrooms. The thrill of almost getting caught only heightens the experience, but neither one of us really cares. She’s insatiable, and I can’t get enough.
Something switched—she’s started to open up to me about her life. It came as a surprise, but one overdue. And one thing I learned about her is that she’s lived her life on the edge, and so many of her stories replicate myself back home.
It’s almost like she’s the female version of me.
Kate and Charlie are forever poking fun. Apparently, I have a bounce in my step. Lex is quick to point out that I’ve been getting more action than he’s seen in years. A joke that Charlie weighs in on.
“If my vagina’s closed for business like you claim it is, then perhaps you wouldn’t have three daughters screaming this house down,” she responds sarcastically.
“Perhaps you need to stop talking about your vagina,” I tell Charlie, almost gagging on my toast.
As much as I love Charlie, Lex, and the girls, it’s definitely time to find my own place.
I have a meeting with a realtor on Monday, hoping to find an affordable place close to work. The LA traffic is still the thorn in my side, the annoying commute doing nothing to calm my growing road rage.
As the weekend rolls in, Charlie decides to have an impromptu barbecue lunch.
“Lex doesn’t get much time off, so when he’s here for the entire weekend, he likes to fire up the grill,” she informs us.
“Is there anything that man can’t do?”
“Do you want the clean or dirty answer?” Charlie asks seriously, keeping her grin to a bare minimum.
“Clean,” Kate and I almost yell in unison.
“Let’s see…” She taps the spoon over her mouth. “He can’t do a French braid.”
My face remains placid. “Can he do a regular braid?”
“Yes,” she responds with a smile. “If you’ve got three girls you’ve gotta learn.”
“Okay, this conversation is over,” I tell them. “So listen, can I bring Morgan to the barbecue?”
Kate claps her hands with excitement. “Yay! I finally get to meet the girl who tamed the beast.”
“Beast? Give me some credit, Kate.”
“Oh, fine. I finally get to meet the girl that stole your heart.”
I almost choke on my coffee. “No, there’s no stealing of hearts. In fact, there are no hearts involved whatsoever.” I laugh nervously.
Charlie puts down her mug and watches me sternly, along with Kate. These two women could bring a whole army down with their patronizing stares.
“Shall I tell him?” Charlie looks at Kate, goading a response. Kate nods her head, agreeing.
“Tell me what?”
“You’re falling for her, hard,” Charlie asserts.
“I am not,” I lie. “I really enjoy being with her.”
“Denial will only get you so far, Noah,” Kate adds her two cents’ worth. “So, I guess Scarlett’s out of the picture then?”
“Never say never.”
When the words leave my mouth, I instantly regret them. Scarlett is beautiful. She can charm the universe with just one smile. But I have to admit to myself, as much as it troubles me to do so, that my defense mechanism went up because I’m scared that I am falling for Morgan. I don’t even know how that feels or what it truly means. But whatever it is, I haven’t felt it before and it’s terrifying me.
“You can’t pursue Scarlett if you’re seeing Morgan.” Charlie’s quick to judge.
I grit through my words. “I’m not seeing her.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Having fun. It doesn’t need a label.”
“Okay.” Charlie coughs. “Commitment-phobe.”
Kate’s annoying laughter bounces off the walls, the same time the doorbell chimes.
I offer to get it since the two of these women are driving me insane. I walk to the door, open it and find my mom standing with a suitcase.
“Mom?”
She steps forward, touching my face before giving me a great big hug. I wrap my arms around her, not realizing how much I’ve missed having her around. She holds onto me for a while, and although I tower over her, her presence al
one reminds me of being back home.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, lifting her bag inside.
“An SOS call. Plus, I kinda missed ya, kid.” She smiles.
Closing the door behind her, she follows me to the kitchen. The second Charlie lays eyes on her, she jumps out of her chair and runs to Mom, holding onto her tight. The both of them look sad, almost in tears.
Really? Did someone die here? Women.
Kate introduces herself, Mom watches me with curious eyes. I shake my head and circle my finger around my ear, motioning that Kate is cuckoo.
“I can see that,” Kate says. “I’m the crazy one? I’m not the one falling in love with a movie star’s sister.”
Silence falls over the room. I could strangle Kate right now. With my bare hands. Mom hides the smile on her face, Charlie turning around and pretending to make coffee.
“I think you forgot to take your crazy pills.” I laugh it off. “Hurry along, Kate, the bus to the mental facility will be here at any moment.”
“Ha-ha.” She smirks. “Should I hand you a collar now or later?”
The girls enter the room, distracting us all while Mom fusses over them. Charlie knew she was coming but kept it quiet to surprise me. Mom’s flown in for a few days for a potential job offer in LA. I have mixed feeling about her being here, mainly because I know it means she’ll have to meet Morgan.
When the kitchen becomes quiet, Mom asks to speak to me outside, alone. We sit on the porch, watching the girls play in the backyard.
“I like Kate,” she begins. “The two of you have some uncanny connection.”
“No connection, Mom.” I’m quick to shut down the concept. “Kate is Kate.”
“And what is that?”
“I don’t know,” I say, unsure. “Someone who I can be myself around without any judgment. She just gets me.”
“And this Morgan?”
I know why Charlie’s not outside watching the girls. She’s hiding because her big fat mouth can’t keep shut.
“Mom, I don’t want to talk about it.”