So Much Trouble: Bad Boy Forbidden Love Romance Collection (So Wrong It's Right Book 4)

by Jamie Knight

  I could almost feel Noah's eyes on my ass as we went up the stairs. Not that I minded at all. I was honestly flattered that he thought me worthy of looking at.

  I certainly looked at him. Especially when he stood up from the table at the cafe. Even though he was wearing pants, I could tell that he was already semi-hard. What's more, I could tell that he was absolutely huge. I subconsciously licked my lips, thinking about having his huge cock in my mouth, hoping he wouldn't notice when I realized that I was doing it, my lust making me blush.

  It was increasingly clear that I was a dirty girl at heart, and it was really only my rearing that kept me from fully indulging in my true nature. Oddly, realizing that about myself made me feel neither prideful nor ashamed. It simply was what it was.

  My hands were shaking as I unlocked the door to my apartment. I have expected him to come up behind me and grab my ass in both hands. Something about the vibes Noah was giving off. I was slightly disappointed when he didn't, but still, I soldiered on — despite the gentle but distinct ache in my pussy.

  He smelled so good I could barely stand it.

  “The kitchen is over here,” I said, as though this wasn't obvious. The living room, kitchen, and dining room shared a space.

  With Noah standing by and watching carefully, I made the batter for the crapes, telling him what I was doing as I did it. To my slight surprise, he was mostly just quiet and listened. I wasn't sure why, but I expected him to be more arrogant, but instead, he was polite and receptive.

  It was becoming clear I had misjudged him. Likely due to a combination of our flawed first plotting meeting and my overall impression of rich people as a whole. It wasn't really positive, which I mostly figured stemmed from the fact that I didn't have much money growing up. I would sometimes think about what I could have done if I had been born with money, but that usually just made me sad.

  I showed Noah how to roll the crapes, a deceptively complex maneuver for which he seemed to have a natural skill, doing it nearly as fast as I did, with my years of experience.

  Shepherding our delicate creations onto properly prepared plates, in the family tradition, we selected our spots at my small table. Noah rushed over to pull my chair out for me, gently pushing it back in as I sat down. I could feel his warm breath on my neck, sending shivers up my spine. The good kind.

  I'm fairly sure my breath caught. I couldn't hear it because of the pounding of my heart in my ears.

  He moved with such smooth grace I couldn't help but be in awe of him. Noah was a man who was in full command of himself. It was nice to see.

  “I tell ya,” he said, after several bites of crape, “there's nothing better than home cooking.”

  I smiled. “You're just saying that.”

  “No, I just said that, and I meant it too.” He stopped and looked directly at me with his fork waving delicately in the air. “False modesty is not endearing.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “Hell no. I'll take honest arrogance any day.”

  I thought about that. As a child, my mother had drilled into me to never boast of my accomplishments. Listening to her had made me unsure about myself. I wanted to be proud of what I could do, and Noah seemed to think the same thing.

  “That's for your honesty.” I set one of my strawberries onto his plate. He immediately scooped it up and popped it between his sexy lips.

  “An here's some more—” He raised his pointer finger— “you could do a lot better than serving coffee at a cafe.”

  I laughed. “Don't I fucking know it. I wanted to be a chef but didn't have the money for school. I had to settle for being a keen amateur. Drifting from place to place, going from job to job, trying to find where I belong in the world.”

  A slight smile settled on his lips, and his blue eyes found mine. “Well, amateur does mean lover.”

  “Does it?” I shivered again.

  “The root word is amo, the Latin for love. Which is also the root of the French amour.”

  “Let me guess. Linguistic major?”

  “Minor. I majored in music.”

  “No shit.”

  “Not singing, obviously.”

  “Obviously,” I agreed.

  “I can compose piano pieces to make to cry, though.”

  “Your welcome to try.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “Invitation.”

  “Accepted.”

  We shook on it and got back to our crapes, Noah managing to eat his slowly and actually savor the taste. I had actually seen people all but inhale them just to experience more of the flavor. It was really my grandma who was to blame. It was her recipe. I was just the messenger. After a sort.

  “You know,” he said out of nowhere.

  “Know, tell me.”

  “Since you're helping me for free, I could do the same for you.”

  I sat back in my chair a bit and looked over at the sexy lawyer across from me. “I would love to know what that means.”

  “I'll be sure to tell you as soon as I figure it out.” He winked.

  When we were finished with the crapes, we made the cookies. Noah, again silently observing, apparently taking in every step. Either that or he was just mesmerized by my tits. Either way, I had his undivided attention, which made me feel really special.

  After eating some of the cookies, I put a portion into a Tupperware contain for Noah to take with him. Taking them happily — they really were addictive — he leaned down, so he could reach and kissed me. Not much, just a quick peck on the cheek, but it was still enough to send a jolt through me.

  I had to brace myself against the door to keep myself upright after closing it behind him. My knees had gone weak, and my pussy was dripping wet.

  Keeping my hand against the wall, I made it into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed, yanking down my skirt in panties in one, hard move, and flinging them halfway across the room. My mind was already fully submerged into a fantasy of what it would be like to sleep with Noah.

  I saw him in my room, across from my bed, looking at me the way he did when I was teaching him to cook and bake. Only now, he was focused on my pussy. I spread it wide to give him a good view, which also felt really good in the world outside my mind.

  After some stretches, I put a finger in and started fucking myself. Noah watched in admiration as I worked my pussy and clit. When I got close to coming, I saw him move slowly towards me, pulling off his shirt as he approached.

  Just as I was on the edge of orgasm, Noah got down on his knees between my legs, tenderly kissing my sensitive pussy lips. I kept moving my hand, again stroking the outside, as I imaged Noah lovingly licking my pussy, mixing light laps on my lips with gentle swirls on my clit.

  I imagined myself putting a hand on the back of his head to urge him on. He picked up speed and licked a little harder but not enough to make it too intense. He seemed to know just what to do to make me feel really good. When he nearly made me cum, Noah made his way from my pussy up to my tits, planting soft, wet kisses on my tingling skin.

  He practically buried his face in my tits, licking and sucking gently, working his way over to my very hard nipples, sucking one and then the other and back again, all the while stroking my pussy lips with his skilled fingers. Much like I was doing in real life.

  He moved up even further, both on my body and into my tight little pussy. Still working his fingers inside me, getting up to three — me following suit in real life — he softly kissed me, slipping his tongue into my mouth. I did my best to meet him, Noah slowing down and giving me time to learn and copy what he was doing.

  Again, he got me to the edge and then backed off, not wanting me to cum yet. It was clear he wanted me to cum with his huge, hard cock deep in my tight little pussy after he popped my cherry.

  Getting into position between my legs, the Noah stroked the warm head of his huge cock against the outside of my pussy, making me gasp in pleasure. Pressing his hand against my belly, Noah eased his cock into
my pussy, getting in up to my cherry before stopping, stroking my belly as I got used to the feel of him being inside me. It was both overwhelming and wonderful at the same time. When I was ready, he gave one short, slow thrust, pushing through my cherry, and taking my innocence.

  Using three fingers to try and approximate the girth of his cock, I imagined him starting to move in me, slowly and first, but then gaining in speed until he was pounding me to a massive orgasm.

  The fantasy was too much. I came hard, finally relaxed for the first time today.

  Chapter Seven - Emma

  I was used to fairly regular masturbation. My natural sex drive apparently being cranked up to eleven. Though I wasn't quite used to it being so consistent. Every time I did it, I found myself thinking about Noah, my sexy lawyer. I couldn't quite explain it except to guess that he had gotten to me in a way no one else had. I had seen handsome and well-built men before but there was something else about my fake fiancé. There was his mind, of course. He clearly knew a lot more than one would assume given his rich, pretty boy image, though I got the gut feeling that that was not something that he was particularly trying to do. He just sort of came across that way.

  I was driving home from the café a few days later when my phone pinged. I looked over and saw that it was Noah. Finding an open spot, I pulled over and excitedly opened the message.

  Hey, sexy.

  Hey, handsome.

  Where are you?

  On the side of the road.

  In a ditch?

  In a hearse.

  Lol. That's a bit better, I guess.

  I would say a lot better, considering I'm alive.

  Which is more than can be said for the previous passengers.

  I do my best not to think about that.

  Like it is just a really big station wagon?

  Exactly.

  Without backseats.

  Gives more space.

  Where did you get it anyway?

  My uncle.

  Gag gift?

  No, no, he ran a funeral home. He left me the hearse in his will.

  Lol. It could be worse, I guess.

  Worse than a free car with 50k on the odometer?

  It didn't.

  It did.

  No way.

  Do you know how slow these things usually go?

  Fair point.

  The gas mileage is surprisingly good, too.

  Where were you headed before I so rudely interrupted?

  Not rude at all, cutie. I was just heading home after work.

  Are you free for lunch?

  It's rush hour.

  Dinner then?

  Now you’re speaking my language.

  English?

  Among others.

  Joe's in twenty?

  Works for me.

  I giggled at our witty repartee, feeling my face flush, and my stomach fill with butterflies.

  Replacing the phone on the passenger seat, I started up again, the gently used motor purring like a kitten, and tried to nose my way into the solid line on cars inching by.

  Joe's restaurant wasn't that far from where I was, amazing considering how big L.A. was as a city but Noah always seemed to be able to arrange it, so we never had to go very far to be able to meet. We also had several very coincidental run-ins. It was almost as if he had planned it that way, and there was no way he could have accidentally ended up in the same area of the city as me only by serendipity. But to think such a thing would just be paranoid. We hadn't fucked yet, or even really kissed aside from the peck on the cheek, but we saw a lot of each other, and it was clear that he thought about me.

  Noah was already there when I arrived. Of course, he was. He had likely called from the restaurant, and I had the four horsemen of the apocalypse and the hordes of hell that constituted downtown L.A. rush hour to contend with before making my grand and triumphant appearance.

  I reapplied my makeup and combed my hair back down, tying it back into a braid, before going in.

  “Traffic?” Noah asked as I slid into the booth table.

  “Why are you psychic?” I giggled.

  “Oh, I'm not, just a lucky guess based on the laws of probability.” He gave me a smirk that made my stomach tingle.

  “Genius.” I grinned at him.

  “Not really just very clever,” he contested, faking a modest look.

  “Did you miss me?” I asked, trying to resist the desire to reach across the table and take his large hand in my own.

  “Hmm?” He raised a blonde eyebrow as he looked at me.

  I blushed. “Since you saw me last. I fingered you might, at least going by the fact that you texted me out of the blue.”

  “Ah, good point.” Noah nodded but looked away. “To be honest, yes, I did. I mean honestly, how long has it been since we spoke? It feels like it's been forever.”

  “About an hour ago.”

  “I meant face to face,” Noah clarified.

  “Oh, the old-fashioned definition of face-time used in the deep long ago,” I teased.

  “Otherwise known as our childhood.”

  We quieted down as the waiter brought us water and menus. I took a sip and smiled at Noah, feeling excited to be sitting across from him.

  The hot lawyer was still in a beautifully tailored, gray suit that probably cost more than three months of my rent. The tie he wore was light blue and brought out his eyes. The man had such style. I was casual in comparison.

  “How old are you?” Noah asked out of nowhere.

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “You look younger.”

  I smiled and raised my eyebrows at him. “Compliment?”

  “Cold statement of fact,” he grunted.

  “Cold?” I asked, surprised.

  “Neutral?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Fair point,” he agreed with a nod.

  “Impartial?”

  “Again, hardly. I think the most accurate word would be objective.”

  “Close enough,” I agreed. “Do you like it?”

  “The word objective? Sure, I mean it's—”

  I laughed. “No, I mean, do you like that I look younger than I am. I mean some guys are into that, or so I've heard.”

  Noah grinned and played with his napkin. “Oh, I see what you mean. I don’t really know. I don't tend to notice much about that. I mean I won't say I don't notice at all. That would just be silly, but unless someone looks under-age, it doesn't have much influence on whether I'm attracted or not.”

  “So, I could be forty-seven, and you would still be interested?” I asked as a challenge.

  Noah thought for a moment. “Sure.”

  “Would you, you know, fuck me?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me and a blush covering my cheeks. I wanted him so bad. We seemed to have good sexual tension, but as a virgin, I wasn’t quite sure.

  “If you were forty-seven? Or now?” he asked in a breathless whisper, leaning over the table towards me.

  I could feel Noah’s body heat. Part of me wanted to lean forward and meet his sexy lips, but my nerves held me to the booth. “Either,” I admitted, glancing down shyly.

  “Yes.”

  His answer shook me, but I still wasn’t sure. I glanced up to meet his blazing blue eyes. “To which?”

  “Both.”

  It was hard to keep my mouth from hanging open.

  The waiter came over to take our order, but suddenly I wasn’t hungry anymore.

  Chapter Eight - Emma

  Midway through our meal that night, Noah got called away on legal business. I was disappointed and couldn’t wait to see him again, which happened a few days later.

  It wasn't as uncomfortable seeing the hot lawyer again as I thought it might be. I had basically asked straight out if he would fuck me, though I had done it with enough of a hypothetical that it took some of the edge off. I certainly thought about it, though. Particularly when he turned u
p right outside the cafe as I was getting off work in yet another example of the great power of coincidence.

  “Hey,” Noah said, waiting outside in another tailored suit and dress coat — looking sharp.

  “Hey,” I said, kissing him on the cheek.

  “Wow,” he said, sounding surprised and backing up just a bit.

  “Sorry,” I said, thinking he might not have wanted me to.

  “No, it's okay, just took me by surprise is all.”

  “I can be somewhat spontaneous.”

  “So, I noticed,” he said, it now being his turn to blush. The red making his sharp cheekbones even more apparent.

  “I guess it makes sense that you would be surprised, being such a tactician and all.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  He stopped in his tracks. “You don't think I'm stalking you, do you?”

  I giggled and wiggled my hips at him. In answer, Noah rolled his eyes.

  “I just think you’re really organized and really keen,” I teased. “I mean, you do usually text first or only.”

  “And if you didn't want to see me, I would leave,” he argued.

  “Good to know,” I said, meaning it more than my tone might have implied.

  Before I could kiss him again, on the lips this time, I heard a set of very familiar footsteps coming up behind us.

  “My two favorite people,” Jim Howell joked as he approached.

  “Really?” Noah and I asked at the same time.

  “Of course!” Jim said, with all the earnestness for which lawyers were famous.

  “I think your wife might have something to say about that,” Noah said with a grin.

  “I did say my favorite two people. Vicky is in the singular.” Mr. Howell raised his dark eyebrows like he expected us to find him a genius.

  “Ah,” Noah laughed.

  “I see,” I confirmed.

  “How is your lovely wife these days?” Noah asked as we all started walking towards the parking lot.

  “Fine, thanks for asking. We were both a bit run thin when James was born, but now that he's older, it’s eased off a bit. Especially for her.”

  “I can imagine,” I said, wondering what it would be like to have to nurse several times a day.