After Midnight

by Grimm, Sarah

  He swallowed. “There you are,” he said, climbing the stairs and settling for running his fingers over the smooth skin of her shoulder. “I saw you holding my nephew’s hand. Should I be worried that he’s planning to steal you away from me?”

  She tipped her face to look up at him, and his chest tightened. Her lips formed a smile, but there was an intense sadness in her eyes. “Isabeau, what is it?”

  She cleared her throat and looked away. “I was looking at these photographs.”

  “And that made you sad?”

  She didn’t answer. “Who is this?”

  Disappointment filled him, tightened his jaw. Damn, he was tired of the secrets. He wondered how long before she trusted him enough to let him in. Whether he had the patience to wait, or whether he should push her for answers. Uncertain, he followed her pointing finger to the black framed photograph near her shoulder.

  “You would pick that one, wouldn’t you?” he asked, then sank down onto the step beside her. Barely wide enough for two people, she had to shift in order to accommodate him. He leaned back, resting his elbows on the step behind him, then, because he liked the feel of her skin, he traced the back of his fingers up and down her arm from shoulder to elbow. “That’s Danny and me.”

  “You look like you were causing trouble.”

  “If Danny was with me, I usually was.”

  “How old are you there?”

  He thought back to the summer it had been taken, remembered it was the year he’d kissed his first girl, Gwen Ryder. A kiss hadn’t been all they’d shared that summer. “I was fifteen.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” he asked, sliding the can from her fingers and taking a drink, before handing it back.

  “You’re grinning like a little boy with a secret, Noah Clark. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m asking.”

  His grin widened at her comparison. “Let’s just say that summer changed my life.”

  “How did it…oh.” Her forehead creased, her mouth turned down at the corners. “I get it, now.”

  He didn’t mean to laugh. “You’re beautiful when you’re jealous.”

  Her frown deepened. “I’m not jealous.”

  “That’s good, because that was a long time ago and you…” His smile slipped away as he came to his own realization. He groaned aloud. “Were you even born yet? I suddenly feel so—”

  “Pervy?”

  Pervy? He glanced at her, incredulous. “I was going to say old.”

  She had the audacity to laugh at him.

  Her eyes sparkled with joy. The last bit of sadness disappeared from her features as her laughter flowed across his skin, as arousing as a caress. “You’ve got an amazing laugh.”

  She sent him a wary look. “Yeah, and an incredible mouth, and beautiful eyes…” She rolled those beautiful eyes and turned back to the photographs. “I changed my mind, you’re not pervy, you’re slick.”

  “I meant every compliment I ever gave you.”

  “Sure, you did,” she replied, skeptically. But then her mouth curved, and he knew she was pleased to hear him say it. “What about this one, with Paul. How old are you here?”

  Noah allowed his gaze to take in her high cheekbones and full lips, the delicate curve of her jaw and her slender neck. He couldn’t recall ever noticing a woman’s neck before. Not as a part of her anatomy that he found compelling. “A few years older than you are now. That was taken at Paul and Anne’s wedding.”

  She leaned closer, her fingers smoothing over his image. “Your hair’s so long. As long as Dom’s.”

  “Hmm.” He skimmed his hand up her arm and settled it at the back of her neck, where he toyed with the small hairs that had worked loose from their twist.

  “You look…”

  “Half in the bag?” he guessed.

  “Tired,” she corrected.

  “I was. We were in the middle of a world tour. I’d flown in the night before then left again about an hour after that picture was taken.” His hand moved higher, working the silver clip loose. Her hair tumbled down around her shoulders, brushed over his arm. Her eyes locked with his as he wove his fingers into the strands and cupped the back of her head. “If I asked you what had you on the verge of tears when I walked up would you tell me?”

  “No.”

  He held her in place as he straightened, easing closer. “What if I asked you to come home with me?”

  Her breathing shallowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He settled his free hand on her knee. The aluminum can protested as her hands tightened around it. “To my place, in California.”

  Her skin flushed. Her gaze settled on his mouth. “Noah,” she said, her voice a harsh whisper.

  “We can catch a flight out tonight. Spend a day there before heading back to New York.” His hand eased up her thigh, slipped beneath the hem of her dress. “You and me. Alone. No interruptions.” He tightened his fingers in her hair and tugged her head back, his mouth hovering above hers. “Say yes.”

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The tension grew inside of Isabeau the closer they got to Noah’s house, until it was suffocating. Until she was certain he could hear her heart beating in her chest. He had told her that he lived a little more than an hour from the airport. They’d been driving now for exactly fifty-eight minutes. Of course, there were the ten minutes when he’d gone into the drug store to take into consideration. But thinking about them made her even more uneasy because she knew what he’d gone in to buy, and she hadn’t stopped him.

  She hadn’t stopped him.

  Sure, she could rationalize her actions by reminding herself that condoms prevented more than pregnancy, but that wasn’t what kept her silent. No, that would be nerves. And a little bit of fear. Easing out a quiet sigh, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the upholstered headrest. She realized her fingers were dancing up and down her leg only when Noah stilled the movement with his hand.

  The fact that he made the gesture without comment didn’t surprise her. He hadn’t spoken more than a few words since they’d left the car rental agency at the airport. She glanced across the front seat and tried to figure out what he was thinking behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses. Was he at all apprehensive, did he feel like he could crawl right out of his skin, the way she did? Or was he as calm and relaxed as he appeared?

  Seven forty-eight. Another five minutes had passed.

  He squeezed her hand in a way she knew was meant to reassure. “Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

  He’d misread her restlessness. Not surprising. After all, her own body couldn’t decide if she should be frightened or excited, whether it should flash hot or cold. She knew making love with him would be wonderful, but she’d never given control to anyone before. Never placed herself completely in a man’s hands the way she knew he would insist she do with him. Shifting her hand out from under his, she pinched the bridge of her nose as stirrings of uncertainty started low in her stomach.

  “There are workmen at your house, aren’t there?”

  His hand remained on her knee, the individual press of each of his fingers branding her flesh through the lightweight fabric of her dress. “No. I called them after booking our flight and gave them the day off. They won’t be back until Monday.”

  Every nerve ending in her body scrambled as he shifted his hand higher, skimmed his thumb back and forth on her thigh. The acknowledgement that they would indeed be alone once they reached their destination, had her breath shallowing. “Noah?”

  “Hmm?” His hand eased up her thigh. “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure I can—” She sucked in air on a gasp as his fingers brushed between her legs. Her body jolted, arched. Desperate, she pressed her back further into the seat and covered his hand with her own. “Noah.”

  Was she asking him to stop, or encouraging him? Even she didn’t know.

  “Open your eyes, Isabeau. Look at me.”
r />   She forced her eyes open, turned her head.

  “Relax,” he encouraged and stroked her a second time.

  She was wound so tight she thought she would break. Her nipples tightened. A pulse had started between her thighs and his advice was to relax?

  Not possible. Not anytime soon.

  She stared at his profile and wondered…What was he hiding behind his sunglasses? Could it be that she was the only one nervous? Aroused. Anxious. She had to know.

  Reaching out, she slid his glasses off. His skin was flushed. The eyes that glanced over full of heat and raw emotion. Her heart thudded. Tossing his sunglasses into the back seat, she reached for him.

  “I don’t think so,” he growled, pinning her hand against his hard thigh. “This isn’t about me.”

  “Of course it is.”

  “No. We already know you can please a man. I need to know I can please you.” His hand tightened around hers, held on as she attempted to pull away. “Remember what I said, Isabeau, it’s all about touch.”

  He made a right, pulling the car into a long driveway and to a halt in front of a three-stall garage. He released his hold on her, shifted into park, turned off the ignition and faced her. Then, as if to emphasize his point, his hand journeyed up her arm, over her shoulder and settled at the back of her neck. He pulled her close.

  “What’s the matter? Are you frightened?” His warm breath brushed across her lips with every word.

  She watched him through her lashes while her breath quickened, while he slowly shifted his head and began to nibble along her jaw.

  “A little,” she admitted. She expected him to smile in satisfaction, even laugh. Instead, his mouth worked its way down her throat, coaxing a moan from her.

  “I know the feeling.” He trailed his tongue over her collarbone. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

  “You…haven’t?”

  “No.”

  When he lifted his head, the truth in his eyes drove away the last of her apprehension. “Noah?”

  “Isa?”

  “Take me to bed.”

  Slowly, his mouth curved. Without taking his eyes off hers, he reached into the back seat and retrieved the bag from the drug store. Then he slid from the car, circled to her door, and helped her out.

  His hand on her lower back, he guided her up the front path. Thinking only of the pleasure they were about to bring each other, she watched him slide the key into the lock. He pushed the door open and she caught a glimpse of soaring cathedral ceilings, a sea of white broken by gleaming cherry floors, and a panoramic view of the Sierra Nevada foothills, before he pressed her against the door.

  His mouth settled on hers, and he kissed her, long, slow, and deep. His free hand cupped her throat. When his thumb stroked the side of her neck, her body began to tremble. Her legs went weak. Pinned between the door and the solid strength of his body, she tugged his shirt out of his jeans until her hands slid beneath the hem. A hum of pleasure broke from the back of her throat as her exploring hands smoothed over his chest.

  His mouth left hers to trail kisses along her jaw, then down the column of her throat. He stroked his hands down her back until he reached the curve of her butt. Filling his hands, he hiked her up. The position pressed his erection against her and she gasped, wrapped her legs around his waist. Her dress slid up. Cool air brushed across her skin. Hot, wet heat pooled between her thighs.

  She had a vague sense of them moving as she began feasting on his neck. She nipped the lobe of his ear with her teeth, and he sucked in a ragged breath. Her greedy hands raced over his body, touched him everywhere she could reach. Heat pumped through her blood when he shifted his grip and his fingers slid beneath the elastic leg of her panties. He parted her with his fingers, stroking, teasing, until she arched against him.

  She needed to taste him. Again. Now. Unable to resist, she fisted her hand in his hair, pulled his head back and planted her mouth on his. He stumbled, knocking them both against the wall. He held her there, as slowly, much too slowly, his fingers slid into her, first one, then two. Moving with intimate strokes, stroking deep, then easing out of her, opening, stretching her—making love to her with his hand.

  Oh, God. Her hips arched, urging him back into her. His thumb shifted, circled and pressed, while his fingers continued their tantalizing rhythm. “Wait…I want…”

  “You will,” he promised, his voice raw. “This is only the beginning.”

  A roaring filled her head, then pleasure exploded through her like a wave, washing over her, nearly unbearable. Spasms rocked her body, stole her breath as she convulsed and shuddered around him.

  Spent, she clung to him as he pushed away from the wall, carried her up the stairs and hung a left, into the master suite. He set her on her feet at the side of the bed. Her knees wobbled, and she let out a shaky laugh. It backed up in her throat as he dropped the bag he somehow still carried, toed off his shoes, and peeled off his shirt.

  Holy cow. She wondered if she’d ever get used to how good he looked without his shirt. Lean muscle. Smooth skin. Testosterone oozing from every pore.

  He reached for the hem of her dress, drew it up and over her head. Smoothed his hands down her sides, tucked his thumbs in her panties, and eased them off her legs. His eyes, as she stood before him wearing nothing but her silk bra and heels, flashed and darkened. A low growl sounded from the back of his throat as his palm journeyed across her stomach, stirring her back to life. “I knew it.”

  His breathing had gone uneven.

  “What?” She gasped. Her hands slid up his chest, her fingers dug into his shoulders when the back of his thumb traced up her narrow line of pubic hair.

  “I saw those bikini bottoms and knew you had something special going on down here.” He eased her back so that he could watch his fingers explore her. “Do you have any idea what this does to me? What do you call this?”

  His eyes blazed as he stared at her, and she shuddered with excitement. She’d never had a man look at her like he looked at her, like he was starving and she was a buffet. She had to concentrate to breathe. “It’s a Brazilian.”

  “I have to get a closer look at this.”

  Noah sank to his knees in front of Isabeau, awed by her beauty, completely transfixed by the thin strip of hair above her clitoris. His erection pulsed, strained against his zipper. He’d been hard since the pilot instructed them to prepare for landing. Painfully hard. He didn’t think he could get any harder.

  He was wrong.

  She was bald and smooth, everywhere, but for that landing strip of hair. He leaned in, pressed his face against her then gave her a kiss.

  Her hand dropped to the top of his head.

  He wanted her in a way he hadn’t wanted any other woman—possessively, totally. The need to plunge inside her, lose himself in her heat and take them both to oblivion was almost more than he could resist. But even more than that, he wanted her complete surrender—to possess her in a way no man had possessed her before.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his lips brushing her with every word. “You smell so damn good.” Her fingers tightened, tugging his long strands of hair. “I bet you taste even better.”

  He stroked his tongue over her and groaned. Incredible. Exquisite.

  She arched, cupped the back of his head and pressed against his mouth. He slipped his thumb up into her, his fingers along her folds. He pleasured her with his tongue, reveling in her incredible flavor, as he brought her along slowly, prolonging her pleasure as much as his own.

  Beneath his hands, her body began to tremble. Any moment now…

  He replaced his thumb with his tongue, and she cried out his name.

  Every cell in his body burning for her, he stood, unhooked her bra, and eased her down onto the bed. He lowered down beside her.

  Eyes luminous, she pushed his hair away from his face, cupped his jaw. “Noah, I can’t…take much more of this.”

  He fastened his mouth on one of he
r breasts, drew in the rigid tip of her nipple and suckled. He used his teeth, his tongue, and his lips to excite, while his hands skimmed over her. “You can,” he answered, nipping his way to her other breast. “Trust me.”

  Her back came off the bed. Little sounds slipped up her throat, half whimpers, half sighs, driving him crazy. Leaving her breasts, he trailed higher, up the column of her throat until he found her mouth. Her tongue stroked his, and he wondered if she found her taste as pleasing as he did.

  He smoothed his palm along the inside of her thigh, then back to her hip, making sure to brush between her legs in the process. From her hip, he skimmed up her body and cupped her breast, teasing at her nipple with his thumb as he continued to feast on her mouth.

  She moved restlessly beneath his hands. A tiny moan slipped up the back of her throat before she tore her mouth from his. Her fingers fought with the button on his jeans. “No more. I want you inside me. Now.”

  Now was good.

  He left her long enough to remove his jeans and grab a condom. Her legs opened for him in invitation as he moved over her. Her hands smoothed over his chest and held onto his ribs as he braced his weight on one arm and used the other to guide him to her. Christ. The sound she made when he pressed against her entrance nearly sent him over the edge.

  He hissed out a breath as her muscles clenched around him. Tight, she was so damn tight. He watched her face as he rocked his hips, slowly thrusting into her, easing his way one slow inch at a time until he was buried to the hilt.

  He swore softly and tangled his fingers in her hair. “Are you okay?”

  She arched against him, wrapping her legs around his hips and pulling him deeper. She raised her hands to the sides of his head and brought his face to hers. “Don’t stop,” she whispered against his mouth.