Eva
Normally, if any guy walked up to me in a bar, swung me around, and kissed me, I would have slapped him into next week. Or better yet, kneed him where it counts and dropped that sucker to the floor.
So, what stopped me from doing that to Noah? Why did just the taste of him, the sight of him, leave me weak in the knees?
When he spoke, my mind went utterly blank. Watching him adorably stumble over his words somehow made me more intrigued. I could tell he didn’t know what to say, and yet I couldn’t even begin to find the words myself. My mind was still reeling from the sexiest, most electrifying, lustfully perfect kiss that I have ever experienced. The man took my breath away, stopped my heart, and restarted it again with one mind-blowing kiss.
I couldn’t think. Paralyzed, I could barely breathe.
Dark brown hair, standing at about six-four, Noah has the most breathtaking blue eyes I have ever seen. A perfect five o’clock shadow grazes the lower part of his strong chin, and gives him just enough rugged appeal that’s undeniably sexy.
He has on a ball cap with a symbol I don’t quite recognize, no doubt for some sports team. Wearing a plain white T-shirt and dark blue jeans, he’s dressed so simple yet looks handsome and manly. He’s also wearing boots, which is very different for southern California.
Noah’s muscular, and fit without being too fit. You can tell he takes care of his body without obsessing over it like it is a trophy to show off. Which is a very pleasing thing in my opinion.
My heart pounds as I take my seat and remember our kiss. My head feels dizzy. In a moment of complete chaos, I’ve never felt so at peace. In a moment of violation, I’ve never felt so protected and secure. In a moment where I should have felt disgust, I felt nothing but desire and passion.
Everything in me tells me to leave. Everything about this situation tells me I am crazy, that Noah could turn out to be the most terrible kind of trouble I have ever gotten myself into.
But crazy has never felt so good, and trouble has never seemed so tempting.
Sitting in Longboards with a complete stranger, I find Noah has a way about him that makes me feel at peace, almost as if we have met before. There’s an ease to our connection that scares and thrills the hell out of me.
Even when my head tells me to run as fast as I can away from this man, I find myself not wanting to be anywhere else in the world but right here, sitting at a small table, making small talk with a stranger I suddenly need to know more about.
Watching him smile and hearing him laugh makes my pulse race. I blush more than once when his eyes linger on mine. The way he looks at me makes me feel wanted. The lust in his eyes makes the air between the two of us electric. An undeniable spark settles between us, and a small part of me fears I’ll never get the chance to experience it again.
Our conversation is typical for introductions. He asks me if I lived in town. I mention this is my hometown and left it at that. I have no clue how far he will dive into his world, and I’m not about to give up too much of my own.
A waitress shows up and asks if we want a drink. I order another Tom Collins and can’t help but be in awe when Noah orders a coke. The mere thought that he is in a bar and not drinking piques my curiosity.
“So, you’re from here, huh? I wouldn’t have guessed that at all,” Noah confesses in a thick southern drawl that makes me tingle.
He slowly traces a circle on the table, almost as if he is too nervous to look me in the eye. My mind begins racing, thinking about how those fingers would feel running the length of my body.
Trying to focus back on our conversation, I smile and say, “Is that supposed to be a good thing, or a bad thing.”
I debate telling him I don’t live in southern California but see no point. I’m sure I will never see him again after tonight.
He fidgets in his seat. He’s obviously a little nervous. Which is good. Nervous means he wants to impress me, which hopefully means he’s interested.
“No, I mean, it’s just …” Noah stutters. “I’ve been here a week and I haven’t met anyone like you. Anyone that’s so easy to talk to. No, that’s not right. Well, no one … um, or … well, you know…” he trails off, fumbling and stumbling over each word.
I raise a teasing brow, aiming to keep him on his toes. A giggle escapes my lips as I realize it worked and he is at a loss for words once again.
“So, Noah,” I grin, “where are you from then that everyone is so much easier to talk to?” The waitress returns and deposits our drinks on the table. I quickly take a drink to slow my nerves. “I mean … I can already tell you’re not from around here with that long drawl of yours.”
With a huge smile, Noah’s gaze meets mine. It’s a heart-melting, toe-curling smirk that makes me thankful I am already sitting down.
“No, miss. I’m from the south,” he states, obviously very proud of the fact. “Kentucky to be exact. You know where the bourbon is strong and betting on horses is something they teach you in elementary school.”
“Bourbon and horses, huh?” I say, not having ever given Kentucky much thought before. “I take it you’re not that impressed with the West Coast then? Is California not exactly everything dreams are made of?”
“I didn’t like it all that much at first,” Noah says as he leans closer, “but you’re making it hard to want to ever leave the table, let alone the state.”
His comment startles me. His face is now serious and smoldering.
God, how do I come back from that line?
