I sit up so fast my head spins, my pulse racing. This is insane. The kids are right down the hall. It's almost midnight. I should be a responsible adult and go to sleep.
Instead, I'm already sliding out of bed, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floor.
I pause at my bedroom door, listening. The house is totally quiet. I tiptoe down the hall to Matthew's room first.
The door is slightly ajar, and I peek inside. Matthew is sprawled across his bed like a starfish, Mr. Gears clutched to his chest, his pale-green wings spread out beneath him. His mouth is slightly open, soft snores escaping in a rhythmic pattern. The robot nightlight casts everything in a soft green glow.
I smile despite my nerves. My sweet boy.
Moving to Zoe's room, I carefully open the door, mindful of the squeaky hinge. Zoe is curled on her side facing the wall, her sapphire hair spread across her pillow like silk. Her breathing is deep and even, her wings tucked close against her back.
Satisfied that both kids are deeply asleep, I head downstairs.
The third step from the top creaks, and I step over it carefully. The kitchen is bathed in moonlight streaming through the window, painting everything in shades of silver and shadow.
My hands shake as I reach for the back door.
Am I really doing this?
I feel like a teenager sneaking out, my heart racing with excitement and nerves. There's a thrill in the transgression of it, but underneath runs a deeper current of need.
I want this. I wanthim.
And for once, I'm going to let myself have what I want.
The night air is cool against my bare legs as I step outside. The path to Noah's basement apartment is short but it feels like miles. Stars are visible overhead, and crickets fill the air with their song. A car passes on the distant main road, headlights sweeping across the trees, nearly giving me a heart attack.
I'm about to knock when the door swings open.
Noah stands there, backlit by the warm glow of his apartment, and the sight of him steals my breath.
He's shirtless, wearing only a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants. His muscular chest is sprinkled with dark hair and the V down his hips attracts my gaze like a magnet. His dark hair is mussed like he's been running his hands through it, and his hazel eyes are dark and intense as they lock on mine.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves.
Then Noah's gaze drops, traveling slowly over my oversized t-shirt, my bare legs, my sock-covered feet. When his eyes return to my face, the heat in them makes my knees weak.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," he breathes, his voice rough like gravel and honey.
"You're not bad yourself," I manage, suddenly feeling shy and exposed under his gaze.
Noah doesn't say anything else. He reaches out, his large hand cupping the back of my neck, and pulls me inside.
The door closes behind me, and then his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is hungry, desperate, all the pent-up longing from the last two days pouring out in the press of lips and tongues. I melt into him, my hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, feeling the hard muscle beneath warm skin.
Heat pools between my legs and I know I'm already wet for him.
He tastes like mint toothpaste and his stubble scratches against my chin and cheeks. I love every bit of it. Every nerve ending in my body lights up as his chest presses against mine, hot and solid.
Noah breaks the kiss, both of us breathing hard, and presses his forehead against mine. His hands frame my face, thumbs stroking over my cheekbones.
"I can't think of anything but you," he says, his voice low and intense. "You've been all I can think about. The way you taste, the sounds you make, the feel of you—" He breaks off with a groan and presses his sizable erection against the soft flesh of my stomach. "I've never felt this strongly about anyone before."
My breath catches. The raw honesty in his voice makes something inside my chest expand until it's almost painful.
"Noah—" I start, but he cuts me off with another kiss, harder and more demanding.
