by Hannah Ford
“That is how I connect.”
“I know.” I reached up and brushed my hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. His body stiffened at the intimacy of the gesture, but he didn’t pull away from me. “But sometimes I want …”
“What?” he asked, lowering his head and kissing my collarbone softly. “What do you want? This?” He brushed his lips against my skin again, tracing a flaming trail down over my breast.
His hands slipped under my t-shirt and held my hips as he returned his lips to my mouth.
He pulled back and looked at me. “This?” he asked again as he traced my cheekbone with his finger. “Is this how you want it, Charlotte?”
I nodded, so overcome with emotion that I didn’t trust myself to speak.
He slipped my t-shirt off in one fluid movement, leaving me naked. His bare chest pressed against mine, my breasts flattening out against his hard muscles. He kissed me again on the mouth, over and over again, his hands not moving from my hips, his kisses leaving me breathless.
Every so often he would pull away and look at me, our eyes fixed on each other, the intensity of our connection so strong I could almost see it pulsing rhythmically between us.
He kissed down my body, over my stomach, my thighs, my hip bones, his mouth exploring me softly, sensually. For the first time ever I felt no self-consciousness about him seeing me this way, exposed. I could tell from the blazing desire in his eyes that he thought I was beautiful, and that made me believe that I was.
His mouth slid further down, until he reached the top of my center. He gazed up at me, his hands reaching up and sliding over my breasts before traveling back down my breastbone, skittering over my ribs.
“I want to be inside of you,” he whispered.
“I want you inside of me,” I whispered back.
He raised his body and positioned himself over me, sliding inside of me with one deep thrust. He stayed still, his cock filling me as his mouth found mine.
“Look at me,” he commanded and I did, our eyes locked on each other as he began moving inside of me slowly and passionately. With every thrust his shaft moved over my clit, his hands moved through my hair, his tongue tangled with mine.
It was the most intense, erotic, passionate thing I’d ever felt.
“Noah,” I whispered.
“Charlotte,” he whispered back. “Oh, Charlotte.”
The sound of my name on his lips pushed me over the edge, and my body broke into a million pieces as my orgasm rocked through me, building in intensity as wave after wave of pleasure overtook me.
A second later, I felt Noah’s release fill me, warm and comforting, our eyes still locked on each other.
He pulled out of me and wrapped his arms around me.
My back rested against his chest, his hands moving lazily down my arms, causing goose bumps to break out on my skin.
We lay there for a moment as our breathing returned to normal and our heart rates slowed. Then Noah reached down and pulled the blanket up, covering us both, our legs tangled together.
I drifted off to sleep like that, with his arms around me, marveling at the fact that I could be in such danger and yet at the same time, feel so incredibly safe.
***
In the morning, Noah appeared at the side of my bed, dressed in one of his signature dark suits, his hair wet from the shower.
“Charlotte,” he said, setting a cup of coffee down on the nightstand next to me, along with a bowl of oatmeal and strawberries. “It’s time to wake up.”
“Oh.” I sat up in bed, still naked, feeling a mess next to him, so clean and put together. “How long have you been up?” I asked.
“A couple of hours. I worked out and then showered.”
“You went for a run?”
“I used the treadmill in the gym.”
“You have a gym?” I asked.
“It’s nothing fancy, Charlotte. Just a treadmill and some free weights.”
“Oh.” I filed it away under the list of things I didn’t know about him. Of course, him not telling me he had a home gym was nothing to get upset about. It wasn’t like I would have expected him to mention something like that. But it was just another surprise, however small.
“Eat your breakfast and shower. You’ll come to the office with me today.”
“I have school.”
“You’re not going to school.”
“I have to go to school, Noah.”
“The hearing is today, Charlotte.”
“It’s not until noon. I should be able to make my morning classes.” I wrapped my hands around the cup of coffee he’d brought me. The mug was warm, the liquid hot – I could see the steam curling off the surface. But my hands were freezing, my body was freezing, and I couldn’t get warm.
“You’re not going to school,” Noah said. “Josh will be there.”
“I’m going.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but I shook my head.
“No. Sitting around will do nothing except make me even more stressed. Besides, I have to keep up with my schoolwork. And Josh won’t be in class today. There’s no way. And even if he was, he’s not going to try anything in front of all of those people.”
I wasn’t going to budge. What was I going to do if I didn’t go to class? Sit around and drive myself crazy with all the things that could go wrong at the hearing? And it wasn’t like Josh could hurt me at school, if he even showed up. There would be a million people there.
Noah sighed, then leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “Fine,” he said. “Get ready. We’ll leave in forty-five minutes.”
***
He insisted on driving me himself, not wanting to ride with Jared. When we pulled up in front of the school, we sat in the car for a moment with the motor idling. I looked out the window.
It was a gorgeous day out. The sky was bright shade of blue, the sunlight slanting shallowly across the sky. Everything was sharp and vibrant. The green of the grass on the quad, the sleekness of the briefcase in a professor’s hand, the soft morning shadows that the elm trees cast onto the ground.
Even the students seemed somehow more put together this morning, their jeans cleaner, their yoga pants less faded, their backpacks newer. I marveled at their lives, their worries, the fact that they were thinking about tests and summer clerkships, about grades and recommendations and not about murderers and BDSM clubs.
“I’ll be done by eleven,” I said.
Noah nodded and then began to unbuckle his seatbelt.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Going in with you.”
“Um, no.” I shook my head. “You can’t come to class with me.” The thought of Noah walking into school with me was laughable.
“Not class, Charlotte. I’ll wait in a study lounge or library. Surely there’s some place I can work where I won’t disturb you.”
“Okay.” I swallowed. My mouth was suddenly dry, and I reached for the handle of the car door. “Can you just… can you wait a few minutes before you get out?” I thought of the text Julia had sent me, about the reporter hanging out outside of our apartment. How could I be sure the same thing wasn’t going to happen here? I imagined a group of reporters lurking on the other side of the quad, their cameras ready to get a shot of me with Noah.
A vein twitched in Noah’s temple as he considered letting me get out of the car by myself. “Fine. But you are to meet me at this car at 11:00 sharp. And you are to text me when you are on your way, and to answer any texts I send you immediately. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
He leaned over and kissed me on the lips. He tasted like mint and smelled like laundry soap and musky cologne. His face was freshly shaven, his skin smooth and gorgeous.
I had to resist the urge to lay my head against his chest, and instead summoned up my strength and pushed my way out of the car and into class.
***
I had Worthington’s class first thing, and was surprised to s
ee him at the front of the classroom. I figured with the evidentiary hearing that afternoon he would have called in a pinch hitter, a substitute professor who would ply us with questions and case studies and busy work.
I slid into my seat, glancing over to the other side of the room where Josh usually sat. His seat was empty and I let out a sigh of relief, thankful he wasn’t there.
But at the same time, a frisson of anxiety tripped its way up my spine.
At least if Josh was in class, I would know where he was, what he was doing. If he wasn’t here, he could be anywhere, planning anything.
I pulled out my notebook and opened to a fresh page before becoming dimly aware of the sound of giggling coming from a couple of rows over. I glanced over and saw two girls I didn’t know whispering behind their hands.
Their eyes were on me, and I turned away, my face burning. Law school was a vicious rumor mill, one I’d been lucky to avoid before now. Obviously the word had gotten out about me and Noah.
I kept my eyes on my notebook.
A few moments later, Professor Worthington started class and I glanced back over at Josh’s seat. Still empty.
“Good luck today,” Professor Worthington was saying. “If you don’t know the answer to a question, do your best. Your essays will be given partial credit.”
He began passing out papers, and my classmates began clearing their desks and pulling out their pens.
Was there a test today?
Was it a pop quiz?
My heart began to beat loudly in my ears. I’d let the reading for this class slip a tiny bit, figuring I would have time to make it up before there was a test.
I fumbled through my notebook for my syllabus. I scanned down the paper, and there it was, right next to today’s date. A test.
I did my best, but I knew it was bad.
I guessed at about a quarter of the multiple choice questions, and bullshitted my way through the essays. I was one of the last people to hand their papers in, and as I handed my paper to Professor Worthington, I couldn’t look him in the eye.
I knew I’d failed, or at least gotten a D.
I ran out of the room and into the hallway, pushing my back up against the wall. I felt like I was having a panic attack again, the way I had in Noah’s hotel room that day.
It was as if a rubber band had been placed around my lungs, like it was squeezing me harder and harder until I was short of breath.
I put my head between my legs and tried to keep myself from fainting. Relax, I told myself. Just relax. It’s only a test.
A moment later, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Noah, I thought in relief.
But it wasn’t Noah.
It was Professor Worthington, looking down at me with a concerned expression on his face.
“Charlotte,” he asked. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I’m fine.” I straightened up and tried to focus as the blood rushed from my head back to my body.
“Are you sure?” He was frowning, like he didn’t believe me.
“I just…I think I’ve just been a little overwhelmed.” I wasn’t sure why I said that. Something about the way he was looking at me made me feel like I had to say something, that me just insisting everything was okay wasn’t going to be enough for him. Maybe a part of me wanted him to tell me everything was going to be okay. But instead of comforting me, his tone turned dark.
“Charlotte,” he said. “You need to get it together. In a couple of hours, you are going to be one of the most important witnesses in an evidentiary hearing in which the stakes could not be higher.”
“I know,” I said.
“Do you?” he asked. “Do you really?” His voice was raised, and group of girls walking down the hall glanced at us curiously. It wasn’t unusual to see a student have a meltdown, but it was unusual for her to be doing it in front of her professor.
“Charlotte,” Professor Worthington said and moved closer to me. “Get yourself together. This is nothing. I have been working nonstop on this case, keeping my practice running, going through a divorce, and still teaching my classes. You have no idea what pressure is. Now figure it out.”
He turned around and walked back into the classroom, the heavy oak door shutting behind him.
My knees felt weak, and my first instinct was to collapse into one of the chairs by the window, or to run to Noah.
But then I realized Professor Worthington was right.
When had I become so weak? When had I become the kind of girl who forgot about tests and worried about what her classmates thought of her? I’d earned my place in this school. I’d always been a hard worker, a fighter, the kind of person who didn’t give up.
Was it Noah? I wondered. Had he made me weak?
No, I decided. It wasn’t Noah. There was nothing weak about giving yourself to another person, to letting your walls down so much that you gave your trust without expecting anything in return. That was one of the strongest, hardest things you could do.
No, if anything, Noah made me stronger. Fighting for someone you loved was one of the most difficult things you could do.
I was strong.
I was going to get through this.
I was going to get Noah out of this mess.
I would go to the evidentiary hearing. I would kick ass. I would show the prosecutors I was anything but weak.
And then I would lure Josh out. I’d get him to make a mistake. And I’d prove once and for all that he was the one who killed Katie.
***
When I met back up with Noah, I showed no sign that I’d been having a meltdown.
We made a pit stop back at his apartment, where I changed into a dark skirt, heels, and dark jacket. I pulled my hair back into a low bun and slid a pair of simple gold hoops through my ears.
The ride to the courthouse was silent, the air between us heavy with tension.
I knew this was a big deal, and Noah did too.
And yet we didn’t talk.
Surprisingly, the silence was almost comforting. There was nothing to say, and talking would have done nothing but make me more nervous, jumbling my head into a tangle. The quiet allowed me to get my thoughts together, to collect myself, to get into a zone. I felt like a soldier going off to battle. I had weapons on my side – my smarts, my strength, my love for Noah and his love for me, the fact that I had some knowledge of the law, which would make me more able to recognize when the prosecution was trying to trip me up.
We parked the car and walked toward the courthouse.
I felt strong.
I felt like it was me and Noah against the world. He reached for my hand, and I held it tight. There was a throng of reporters outside of the courthouse, and they snapped pictures of us.
I didn’t care.
I wasn’t even thinking about it.
I was laser focused.
We walked through the metal detectors and into the courtroom.
Professor Worthington was already there. Clementine sat next to him, her head bent over a document, looking chic in a navy pantsuit and cream blouse.
But there was no one sitting at the prosecution’s table. Which was strange. I thought for sure they would be here already. I turned to Noah, to ask him if perhaps it was part of their strategy, if maybe they were going to let us sit here by ourselves and then come in at the last minute, right before the judge took the bench, maybe as a kind of power move.
But before I could ask him, his eyes darkened, his face clouding with anger.
“Noah,” I asked. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Charlotte,” he said, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I want you to listen to me very carefully. Go back to my apartment. Lock the doors. And wait for me there.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, pressed them into my palm.
“What?” I asked, confused. “Why would I –”
“Excuse me, miss,” a voice behind me said. “I’m going to have to ask you to move out of the wa
y.”
I turned to see a uniformed office standing there. Two other officers stood behind him, their hands on their hips, waiting to get involved if necessary.
“What?” I asked. “Why?”
“Charlotte,” Noah said. “It’s okay.” He moved me gently to the side and the officer pulled out his handcuffs.
“Noah Cutler,” he said. “You are under arrest for second degree assault on Joshua Briggs. You have the right to remain silent…”
I gasped in horror, my hand flying to my mouth as they read Noah the rest of his rights and pulled him away, leading him out of the courtroom and down the hall.
Professor Worthington appeared next to me. “What the hell is going on?” I demanded, turning toward him. “What the hell just happened?”
“Charlotte,” he said, his voice even. “Please calm down.”
“I won’t calm down!” I said. “Noah was just arrested.” I pointed toward the courtroom door, as if that would get him to understand.
“Yes, for assault on Josh.” He looked at me. “Do you know anything about this?”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to freak out and scream and cry and hit something. But if I didn’t stay calm, Professor Worthington wouldn’t let me be a part of whatever it was that was going on. I wasn’t Noah’s lawyer. I needed Professor Worthington on my side.
“Yes,” I said, struggling to keep any trace of stress or emotion out of my voice. “He got into a fight with Josh last night.”
“Where?”
“At a BDSM club. At Force.”
He nodded, immediately slipping into lawyer mode. “Clementine,” he barked. “Get a copy of the police report and email it to me. Then go back to the office and file a motion for a new evidentiary hearing.”
She nodded and then scurried off.
“Those assholes in the DA’s office must have planned this,” Professor Worthington said. He was back at the table, picking up his papers and placing them carefully into his briefcase. “They must have known Noah was going to be arrested, which is why they didn’t fight me when I moved up the hearing. Now Noah won’t be here for his own hearing, and a judge is not going to look favorably on that.”