“Uh-huh. Just like Shannon is your girlfriend. We’re friends, right? We should be able to hang out,” I say lightly.
I walk up the path to the front door. I unlock the door and hold it open for him. He walks in, and I follow.
“Straight ahead and then to y
our left.” I direct him to my unit, then make a quick job of unlocking that door.
We enter the kitchen and I put the coffeemaker on. He stands at the end of the counter, his palms firmly laid out on it as he watches me. I pull down two cups.
“Black or light?” I ask, because it seems as though his coffee preference goes along with his mood. When he drank it black outside the theater, he wanted me. Then in the diner he added cream and sugar, and he was pushing me away.
“Black.” He smiles and I reciprocate. Exactly what I was worried he’d say.
I raise my eyebrows and brace myself. If he wants me and I have him alone, I have to act on it. If I don’t, I’ll only kick myself in the ass for it and regret not doing something. I rack my brain, trying to think of what I can do to stir the pot, but I can’t lie and say I’m not nervous that moving forward will only confuse my feelings for him even more than they already are.
“So, tell me, how long have you been interested in fashion design? You’ve never mentioned it before.” His lips curve up into a smirk.
“You mean in the couple of months that you’ve known me?”
“Fair point. It’s a big coincidence, though. Isn’t it?”
“Is it? Dillon saw something about it in the admin building and told me I should apply. How the hell would I know she’s your girlfriend?” I slide his coffee across the counter and walk around to meet him.
He breathes in sharply as I duck under his arm, immersing myself in the space between him and the counter. His arms twitch as my gaze lifts to meet his.
“If I recall correctly,” I begin, narrowing my eyes, “you are the one with the stalker tendencies, or have you forgotten about your little alarm incident?” He flushes, and now it’s my turn to smirk.
I rest my hands on the edge of the counter and hoist myself up, parting my legs enough that if he wants to step between them, he has no obstacles in his way. I’m more than shocked when he takes a step in my direction.
“So why are you here, Noah?” I ask, glancing down as he takes another step, like a current is pushing him in my direction and at the same time pulling me closer to him.
His brow furrows. “Because you invited me inside.” He’s eyeing me like I’ve lost my mind. I laugh and shake my head.
“That doesn’t explain why you said yes,” I say breathily, hooking a finger at the hem of his shirt, giving a slight tug, and then he all-too-smoothly takes yet another step, my knees at his waist. His pained expression makes it clear that he doesn’t know what he wants. Let me rephrase that. He knows exactly what he wants, but he knows it’s wrong and he’s fighting it every step of the way. With my defenses down, I should be fighting it as well, but being close to him feels too right. “Why did you say yes? Do you want to be here with me?”
I lean slightly forward, and my lips brush against his. I run my fingers over his soft stubble as his strong hands grab on to my waist, and, as if on their own accord, struggle to free me of my top. It feels like he’s having a realization of what’s going on and tries to pull away, but I recover quickly and hold him close. With my legs around his body, I use my heels to pull him into me and hold him there. When he rolls his hips against mine, I know I’ve won. There’s no way he’s backing out now.
“Noah,” I softly moan, fumbling with the button on his pants.
“This is so wrong. You’re going to get me in a lot of trouble.” He plants wet kisses down my jaw and neck until he reaches my lace-covered breasts. Pulling the fabric away and my tit out, his hot mouth comes down on my nipple. I arch my back, giving him better access. His free hand gives attention to the other breast.
Getting a brilliant idea, I release my hold on his waist and push him back. I climb off the counter and he gives me a strange look. “Zara,” he whispers, starting to retreat back to the place in his mind that tells him we can’t.
I act fast, pushing him down onto the dining room chair. Grabbing my phone and hitting play on the last song I was listening to, my devilish smile gleams, knowing I’m about to ruin him for all other women. The strong beat and the sounds of Marilyn Manson’s voice stream through the kitchen.
“What are you—”
I cut him off mid-sentence, climbing onto his lap, straddling his legs. His lips search out mine, but I’m in control and I have a plan. My hips start grinding against his slowly. Ripping the bra from my body, I quicken my pace. As the chorus begins, I arch my back and lean away from Noah, giving him a fantastic view of my body…my head thrown back in ecstasy.
I stand, pressing a button on my phone to switch to the next song. Turning my back to Noah, I step between his legs, bringing my ass to rest against his crotch. Dragging my body up and down slowly, confidently, I push my hand inside the waistband of my yoga pants. The Divinyls continue singing as I touch myself.
“Fuck, Zara,” Noah hisses, trying to replace my hand with his. I keep the rhythm with my gyrations and slap his greedy fingers away.
“I got this. You just sit back and enjoy.” I find my clit with ease. Weeks without sex even though I have a perfectly good dick sleeping beside me each night have fucked with my head. But now I get to get off, work him up, and make Noah want me more than he ever thought he would.
Hoping the words from the song seep into his head, giving him the idea that I rub one out anytime I think of him, I let him rest his hand over mine, leading him to believe he’s setting the pace. Nope. Not even close.
Resting my head on his shoulder, making sure my lips are right at his ear, I snake out my tongue, softly licking the lobe. In this position he’s going to hear every hitch in my breath, every quiet moan…it’s so fucking erotic. And don’t think for one second that I’m not going all in. If I’m going to attempt using this kind of tactic to secure him, I’m gonna get mine.