His hands were on her hips now, pinning her back against the door. AJ didn’t have time to react before his tongue was in her mouth.
Fuck. You.
AJ pushed him off. But then the kiss caught up to her. They eyed each other for a moment.
Then he was on her again, his mouth forcing her neck back, his hands like a vise on her ribs, then her ass. He was hard. From the way he groaned, he’d been hard for a while, and the knowledge hit AJ’s bloodstream like a drug.
She pushed him into the room, and he let her back him down onto the couch. She held his hands above his head, grinding against him until they were both panting.
He shucked off Libby’s dress, and she undid his pants and slid onto him. She kissed him, not with affection, but because she knew his lips would make her come, and they did. A terrible, unwanted pleasure forked through her, and she gasped.
And then, before he could so much as thrust, she pulled off him, glaring. AJ wiped her mouth. She had never been so mad. His eyes were raw as she held his gaze.
Fuck. You.
She could feel his stare cutting into the base of her spine as she headed for the door. She was halfway across the room when he spoke, his voice soft, the command in his tone unmistakable.
“Get on the rug.”
And AJ found she could not disobey. With each step, her legs grew heavier, until she collapsed onto her knees atop the bearskin. Slowly she bent forward on all fours, the heels of her hands digging into the pelt.
She didn’t look at Noah, she just waited.
She saw his feet standing before her and felt a thrum of anticipation. Then he knelt down. His hands were on her hips now, yanking her toward him, and she felt one of his knees slide between her own, his other lunging out beside her.
She was nothing in his hands, he could easily move her where he pleased. She felt his fingers on her shoulder blades, smoothing over her back, his dick still wet as it pulsed between her legs.
Then he shoved into her, and AJ had never been fucked like this, not even by Noah. This wasn’t sex; it was an exorcism. He was going to fuck them both right out of this hell.
His hands, his fucking hands on her hips, the pressure of him, the friction. AJ couldn’t see his face, but she felt his fury as he took her, so hard, so fast, she couldn’t breathe. She was gripping the fur now, sweaty tufts between her fingers. She was crying now, but she told him not to stop. The channel between them was ripped wide, unstable, overpowering, and as he made her come, AJ was—
Noah.
He didn’t want to come, he just wanted to bury himself here. But she felt so good, nothing felt like her, and he wasn’t going to cry, he was just going to dig and dig anddig,andGod,she was beautiful, and thiswouldn’tbe the last time. He needed to go deeper. He was pushing her down now,more weight,his nose in her hair, andfuck,her scent. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to go on without this creature who was turning her sweet face toward his, her teeth bared, her eyes frantic because she was him and he was her, andfuckthissolid flesh,he did not want to come, he just wanted to stay buried in this girl,hisgirl,his,fuck,oh fuck take it, take this lifeless fucking river.God, this girl. They were dirt, they were clay, they were nothing but silt.
After, they lay side by side looking at the engraved tin tiles in Errol’s twelve-foot-high ceiling.
AJ felt a lazy tear in the corner of her eye. “I think they call that a death kink,” she mused.
Noah’s fingers brushed hers. “You’re just saying that because the only woman I’ve ever loved is literally named Age and Death.”
AJ’s eyes shot open.
“Ageshall not wither her,” Noah continued contemplatively. “Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me agraveman.It’s very Shakespearean.”
AJ was horrified. “Wow,” she said. “So this is how I finally end up going by Ashlee Jayde.”
Noah chuckled. “I can see it now on the marquee.”
“Hmm?”
“For our show,” he said quietly.
Our show.The words hung in the air, a promise and a threat.
Fire & Waterwasthe story of F and W, two companions in science and love. The play opened on a high note, with F and W achieving their lifelong ambition of suspending life inside an amorphous, gelatinous substance they christened Molten Ice.
Within a few scenes, it was revealed that F had been concealing terminal cancer from W. Heartbroken, W immediately set out to find a cure for F’s illness, while F insisted that they try to enjoy what remaining time they had.
