Instead, I relish in the burn as it drums against my shoulders and back. My chin drops to my chest, and thewater streaks down my spine before pooling at my feet and disappearing down the drain. Needing to steady myself, I brace my hands against the tile and lean forward. The picture my mind paints immediately makes me regret shutting my eyes. Noah’s breath brushes my throat, stirring the fine hairs along my collarbone. Familiar in a way I could never forget. She exhales and sinks closer, a slight sound loosening from her chest.Make me come, cowboy.
Fuck.My stomach tightens at the memory as if it’s happening now and not somewhere in the distant past. Even though I shouldn’t, I hold onto it like a fucking lifeline. “This is a bad idea,” I mutter, trying to free myself from the trance.
Water runs over my neck, dragging sensation with it, making everything sharper. “Fuck it.” Without thinking, my stance widens, feet planting on the slick floor as my body reacts all over again. I shift my weight, hand gripping my cock. “I’m going to hell.”
My fingers tighten around the base, adding pressure as I glide my fist up my shaft. Taking my time, I start slow, drawing it out, but then momentum builds to a greedy rhythm. My breath stutters, and I press my forehead to my forearm and stay there, water cascading over me, thoughts coming in fragments instead of pictures. A low sound pulls from my chest before I can stop it. “Noah.” The roar of the shower swallows her name. Mymuscles tense, jaw locking as sensation crests and pulls. “Fuckin’ hell, Starlet,” I mutter, barely audible. “I missed your tight pussy.”
I don’t notice the door open. I don’t hear her soft step on tile. But the change in the air notes a presence where there was none a second ago, and I’m not alone anymore. Straightening slowly, I turn just enough to catch her shape through the fogged glass.
She stands in the doorway, legs bare under my jersey.Edible.One hand is braced against the frame, while her hair hangs loose around her shoulders, emphasizing her dark, wide eyes. She gasps. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I thought I heard you call out to me.”
“Noah,” I grit, her name rough in my throat. “I didn’t think you could… umm.”Hear. Me.Embarrassment heats my cheeks, and my breath stutters. I drag in another one, deeper this time, grounding myself as the weight of the moment settles.
“Were you thinking of me while you fisted your cock, Rhett?” My knees almost buckle at her question, because honestly, that was the last thing I expected to hear come out of her mouth. Not that it should surprise me, because the old Noah—my Noah—loved to get filthy with me.
“I … eh.”Shit.
“Don’t stop on my account.” She doesn’t look away, and that’s what undoes me—not the heat, not the awarenessof her standing there, but the way her gaze stays fixed on mine like she’s decided this is something she needs to see through to the end. “Come for me, cowboy.” I lift my head and meet her eyes through the steam.
Shifting slightly, I face her, and my free palm settles on the glass between us. Something tightens in the base of my spine, the pressure building, dragged out by the way she watches me like a memory she’s afraid to touch. Picking up the pace, I keep my eyes trained on hers. My breathing turns uneven, each pull of air rougher than the last, my jaw locking as I hold her stare and refuse to look away.
The moment stretches until my shoulders tense and my spine bows slightly, breath tearing loose as the heat crests. I don’t close my eyes, staying right with her, letting her see exactly what she does to me.
She takes a step closer. Then another, stopping just outside the spray, close enough that I can see the way her fingers tremble where they curl against the pane of glass between her hand and mine.
“Fuuuck, Noah.” She’s not even really touching me, but I feel her. The sound that pulls from my chest is swallowed by the rush that fills my veins. “Coming,” I grunt as my release coats the pane between us.
For a second, there’s nothing but the aftermath—heat fading, breath shuddering back into place, my body braced and trembling as it settles.
Her eyes stay on mine, chest rising on a slow inhale like she’s grounding herself in the sight of me still standing there.
I straighten gradually, breath still uneven, the connection between us stretched thin and humming in the quiet that follows. Neither of us moves. Neither of us looks away.
It feels like we crossed a line we can’t jump back over. Before I can open my mouth and say something—anything—to break the tension, she turns on her heel and heads for the door. Stopping at the threshold, she throws me a sultry look. “Coffee?”
NOAH
28
When the doorbellrings shortly after Rhett leaves the house on a call to a neighboring ranch, I exhale with exasperation, shaking my head. I would bet money that he asked someone to come check on me while he was gone.
I’m not quite as prone to falling apart as I was upon our return to Black River a week ago, but I know he’s still worried about my state of mind. Hell, so am I. It doesn’t take much for me to slip into the nightmarish memories. Getting back to old routines is probably the best thing for me, but the life I lived before the wedding doesn’t even exist anymore.That girl doesn’t exist anymore either.
Another chime sounds. I figure it’s gotta be one of the few people Rhett would trust with the task of checking on me. “Come on in,” I call out, trying to keep my voice level.
In all the time we’ve been home, I haven’t seen anyone at all. Rhett has shielded me, protecting me from the inevitable questions that my appearance in our hometown would raise.
Panic rises for an instant but passes as the door creaks open and Sage pokes around it, her kind eyes immediately searching me out. “There you are.” She steps inside, pausing, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she looks me over.
I sweep my bangs out of my face, blinking rapidly as our eyes connect. Relief courses through me as she rushes over, quickly pulling me into her arms. “Girl, you’ve had me worried.”
The tears I try to hold back blur my vision. “I’ve had me worried, too.” A shuddering exhale escapes as she holds me and looks into my eyes.
Her hand cups my face, wiping the pad of her thumb against my damp cheek. “I know you don’t need a babysitter”—she offers with a smile—“but I thought maybe you could use some company. We don’t even have to talk about anything. We can just watch a movie or whatever you want.”
She’s such a good fucking friend to me. I close my eyes for a second, a memory of the horror on her face in that hotel room resurfacing like an unwelcome guest.
“You okay?” She touches my bicep, though hesitantly.
