I snapped it shut, checked the time—nearly eleven. She should be asleep. Box in hand, I slipped out of the study. The hallway was silent, just my footsteps echoing. I treaded light, keeping my shoes quiet.
At the master door, I breathed deep and pushed it open gently. Bedside lamp glowed. Noelle lay on her side, shoulders rising and falling—she was out.
I crept in, shut the door without a sound. Tiptoed to the bed. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, dappling the carpet. I bent down, placed the box on the nightstand as quietly as possible.
Just as I straightened up—
She stirred. My heart stopped.
Was she awake?
I froze. Noelle rolled over, facing me, eyes still shut.
Just light sleep.
I exhaled, turning to go—
"Who's there?!"
Her eyes snapped open, voice full of terror, on the verge of screaming.
"It's me." I leaned in quick, hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened, then flashed with rage once she recognized me.
She thrashed wildly, hands shoving my chest, legs kicking under the covers.
"Mmph—! Mmph—!" She tried to speak, but I held firm.
"Don't scream, it's me," I hissed low. "I'll let go if you stay quiet."
She glared, no sign of backing down. When her knee jammed into me, I grunted and released.
"Kholod Morozov!" She sat up, voice shaking with fury. "What the hell are you doing sneaking in here in the middle of the night? Playing thief?"
"I didn't sneak in. I have a key."
She grabbed a pillow and hurled it at me. "Get out!"
It hit my face, soft and harmless.
"Let me explain—"
"Fine, explain! Better make it clear why you're creeping around like a burglar?" Her eyes blazed in the light. "And why you're standing by my bed watching me sleep!"
"I..."
Shit, how to explain? Say I was dropping off a gift? This late? Who'd buy that?
She was still catching her breath, pounding her chest, even grabbing her inhaler for a hard puff.
I yanked her into my arms instead.
She fought hard, nightgown slipping off her shoulder. Maybe it was the midnight hush or her feeble pushes, but it felt like an illicit thrill.
I turned her face and kissed deeply. She stiffened at first, resisting, but as it deepened, her shoving hands weakened. My palm pressed her lower back, pulling her close; through the thin fabric, I felt every curve.
Damn, I was hard. Aching hard.
I released her lips, our breaths mingling hot and ragged. Noelle pulled back slightly, her chest heaving, eyes dazed but determined. "That's enough," she whispered, voice shaky, like she was trying to convince herself.
