“I mean, I’m not wearing a bra, but sure.”
He grins. “Neither am I.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
As we finish walking his route around my neighborhood, he turns toward me, wiping the still falling rain out of his eyes. “Can I come over after I finish for the day?”
I nod, hoping he means what I think he might.
He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I can’t wait.”
After closing the door behind me, I shimmy like a teenager, while Frank drips dirty rain water all over the floor.
“I take it that things went well?” Harper leans against the doorframe, raises her brows over a steaming cup of tea, and takes in the sight of my disheveled, rain-soaked self.
I don’t need more prompting before I word-vomit the entire incredible moment to Harper who immediately dials Viv and Marin over a video chat.
“You rain-troped the mailman! I knew you would do it!” Viv crows.
Harper, never one for subtlety, declares, “So, I’ll be staying at Maddie’s tonight. You’re welcome. Don’t be weird about it.”
_________
Before I even fully swing the front door open, he’s pressing into me. “B… Can I kiss you?”
The college nickname whispered on his lips, his eyes burning with longing, it all undoes me, and my “yes” comes out as a desperate moan. It doesn’t look like he even took the time to go home and change. Rain drips from his hair, and this time, I don’t stop myself from tangling my fingers in the damp strands.
Noah’s mouth finds mine before the door is fully shut behind us. His jacket hits the floor, soaked through, and I’m reaching for the hem of his shirt, pushing it up over muscles slick with rain. He’s all heat beneath the chill, his skin flushed from the cold, his breath ragged like he ran here.
He presses me up against the hallway wall, the old wood cool and rough against my back. I gasp, the sharp contrast making my body arch, my nipples tightening instantly under the damp cotton of my shirt. His mouth is on mine again, urgent, claiming, tongue sliding past my lips like he’s starving for the taste of me.
There’s nothing slow about this. No tiptoeing, nothing tentative, no easing in. It’s heat and hunger and decision. This time I’ve given myself permission to want him, need him, to give myself to him entirely. The passion I’ve been holding back breaks like a fever.
His hands are everywhere—sliding under my shirt, over my ribs, down to the waistband of my leggings. He groans when he feels how ready I already am for him. I don’t need to speak. I’m all need, dripping wet, all yes.
“You need a shower,” I whisper, the words catching in my throat.
He doesn’t hesitate. “Only if it’s with you.”
We barely make it that far. Somewhere between the hallway and the bedroom, we lose layers, socks, pants, inhibition. The air is damp and thick with the scent of rain and skin and that faint woodsmoke from the candle I forgot to blow out. He lifts me easily, my legs wrapping around his waist like it’s instinct, like my body knew how to fit to his before my brain caught up.Then we’re in the shower, the hot water pounding down my back while Noah cups my breasts, circling my nipple with his tongue before one hand is moving down between my legs.
I grip his back tighter, gasping, aching for him. He plunges a finger inside me, curling his finger, pressing deep, causing little shivers to race up my spine as I clench around him, my nails digging into his shoulders, trying to stay upright.
He pushes in and out, running his thumb over my pulsing need until I’m begging, “Please, Noah. Inside me. Now.”
“Not like this.” His mouth is against my ear and then he’s carrying me, still dripping wet to the bed. He lays me down gently and stands back, admiring every inch of my body. When he finally pushes inside me, it’s like everything quiets. There’s nothing but this—his breath in my ear, my name on his lips, our bodies moving like we’re trying to memorize each other from the inside out.
I feel my need building until I’m clenching around him, and he’s pulsing deep inside me.
His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on my bare hip, his touch featherlight now—reverent in a way that reminds me he’s loved me for a lifetime.
I reach up and push the damp hair off his forehead. “I don’t know if that shower counts as you getting clean.”
“It shouldn’t.” His grin is wicked and boyish all at once. “And my mind’s filthy. Already replaying all the ways I’m gonna make you beg like that again.”
I laugh, breathless, still catching up to my own heartbeat. “Careful. That sounds like a dare.”
He kisses the tip of my nose, then my mouth, slow, possessive, like he’s sealing a promise. “Good.” His voice is low and warm against my lips. “I double-dog dare you to love me like that every day for the rest of our lives.”
