Noah halts. “They’re going to your room?”
I shrug. “They’re smart enough to know where the AC is. We could kick them out.”
“We could,” he says, turning toward me, his expression speculative. “Or…”
Noah moves closer to me, crowding my space until I’m forced to walk backward. “What are you—”
My butt hits the back of the kitchen table, a huge, ancient thing that I’ve been mostly using to store spare dishes.
Dishes that go crashing to the floor when he roughly shoves me onto the table.
Our hands are everywhere. I tear at his shirt as he roughly kneads my ass, dropping his mouth to my neck, sucking my skin into his mouth and tugging.
I cry out in pleasure and the realization that I’ll most definitely have a hickey tomorrow. I practically purr at the thought of being marked by him.
Noah slams his palms on the table on either side of my hips, pulling back to glance down my body, lingering on the fullness of my bra-less breasts, then lower to where the dress is bunched up around my crotch.
I reach out, boldly stroking the bulge beneath his shorts, and his breathing gets even more harsh.
“Why do you smell so good?” he murmurs, pulling my hand away and leaning forward to drag his mouth along my exposed collarbone.
“My bath bubbles?”
“No. It’s you.”
His hands are sliding over my upper thighs, his thumbs ever closer to where I’m hot with want for him.
I gasp a little as his thumbs find the edge of my panties, slipping just barely under before sliding away again. “You remembering the other night? How much you liked my hand here?”
He drags his fingers over me, lightly enough to tease, but there enough to torment, and I whimper. “Noah.”
“Jenny.”
His voice is husky.
“Please,” I whisper.
“Like this?”
I hiss, my hands lifting to his shoulders, nails clawing into his firm flesh as he slides his finger over me, slow and sexy.
My hips tilt toward his hand and he roughly hikes my skirt up all the way, resting his forehead on my shoulder as he watches his hand against me.
I’m panting now, so close, and we’ve barely gotten started.
He hooks his fingers into the sides of my panties, pulling them over my bare legs before tossing them aside.
His eyes flick up to mine as he slowly rubs his hands along the backs of my calves, slowly, teasingly, until his hands find the backs of my knees, lifting until my heels rest on the table.
Noah’s eyes never leave mine as he slowly eases my dress up again, his palms on my inner thighs, slowly spreading me open.
A little bit of reality trickles in around the need, and I instinctively reach down to cover myself, but he catches my hand gently lowering it to the table by my hip, holding it down with his bigger hand as his eyes slide down my body to where I’m wet and open for him.
“Fuuuuuck,” he rasps.
With his free hand, he rubs a finger along my seam, and I arch.
“Jesus, princess. Why can’t I get enough of this? Of you?”