Page 19

“ T his doesn’t change anything.” I insist as Noah Petterson, captain of BC’s champion hockey team, brother to my one true friend, the most beautiful boy in the world, lays me on my bed in such a heated yet reverent way, like he believes me to be the most precious girl in the world, I think my heart may burst. “I’m still mad at you,” I whisper, my voice a quivering mess as much as I am.

On his knees he crawls over me, a predatory smirk curving the lips I’m desperate to taste again. “I can tell.” Rippling muscles clench beneath fabric as his thick thigh nudges my legs apart before he kneels between them, leans over me and rests his elbows either side of my face. His body taunts me, hovering above mine. “And even mad, you’re so fucking perfect. Like a Victoria Secret model but better. And you’re mine.”

His? Something twitches in my chest and it ain’t the Tourette’s. He must see the slight panic, disbelief or fear or excitement, I can’t quite nail it down, but his face softens. “Lotte. At the risk of screwing things up again, I have one more question to ask, I ask with full respect of your privacy, but also with blood curdling jealousy.”

“I think I can guess but go ahead.”

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

“Promise.”

Noah clears his throat, rubs his face and hides behind his hands, “As you know, Ryan kind of implied, but … not that it matters but … I know how shy … Lotteareyouavirgin?” It comes out in one, rushed, panicked word that breaks the promise I made two seconds ago, because I’m mad not with Noah so much as I am the whole stupid situation.

I tug his fingers away, and temper myself to answer politely. “Not that I owe an answer but, one, I didn’t do anything with Ryan, and two, no, I’m not. Is that okay?”

With a soft touch, Noah captures and raises my chin, while his free hand splays across my back, drawing tiny, feather- light circles. “Of course it’s okay. It’s great … Well, not great, but good … I guess, even though I kind of hate it.”

“You hate it? Why would you hate it?” I know my pitch is rising, but I can’t help it, “Would you rather me be all pure and innocent and fiddle around and not know what to do?” I move to slide off him, but his hands spread over my back, pinning me down.

“You said you wouldn’t get mad.”

“And I’m not. I’m … curious as to why you would prefer me to be a virgin.”

“It’s not that I prefer it, it’s just …” As he chooses his words carefully, he weaves a gentle caress up and down my spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake, “I know it’s all caveman and barbaric, but the thought of another man seeing you like this, touching you like this, kills me.” He brings my palm to his lips and places a soft kiss to my flesh. “I want to treasure you, Lotte, I want to bring you pleasure in a way no one else can, and I want to be the first man to watch you fall apart beneath him.”

It would be such a shame to die of cardiac arrest beneath such a pretty boy, but Noah’s words could just do it. It takes a moment for me to gather my thoughts and form a reply other than, fuck me two ways till Sunday then start all over again. “Would you settle with being the first that counts? The first I know I will always remember?”

Satisfaction soothes the cute worry wrinkles that had formed on his brow. “I would … or soon will, whenever you’re ready … If you’ll have me.”

When I nod, he grins like he’s about to devour me, twists my hair between his fingers and tugs, “Noah.”

At my whimper his nostrils flare, his eyes dart to my mouth before he licks his lips and kisses me again. Need, blind, throbbing want builds between my legs as his tongue slips inside, rolls over, strokes mine.

“Noah.” Another tug, another smile. The gentle yet demanding delicious cycle of sin is repeated over and over until I am breathless and writhing.

“Noah.”

“I love that, Lotte. They way you can’t help but moan my name. It’s so fucking hot. You’re such a good fucking girl.”

“Noah.” It slips out again as I part my lips, waiting for another assault but he instead dips lower, kisses, nibbles along my jaw, runs his nose down my neck and buries his face into my hair.

“How do you always smell so good? Bet you taste fucking amazing, too.” With that, he drops his hips and grinds his hard into my pelvis.

“Oh, fuck. You’re so—”

“Hard?” he laughs, all rumbly and deep and so damn sexy, “I know. This is what you, and your blonde hair, and black glasses and fluffy earmuffs do to me every time I think about you.”

“I think about you too,” I admit.

“You do?”

“I do.”

He rolls his hips again and doesn’t stop. I could come from this - and will - if he continues any longer. It’s dirty, back of the car, dry humping at its best. The tension and heat between us builds. He thrusts into me, that cock that feels so big and thick and heavy, rubbing right over my clit and soaked pussy, giving me the friction I so desperately need. His lips find mine again and yes, coming fully clothed is a definite possibility.

“Tell me what you think about, Little D,” he asks, almost reducing me to pathetic horny tears as he pulls his lips, my favorite new play thing, away. “Please tell me all your dirty thoughts.”

“Take off your clothes, and I’ll tell you whatever you want.”

He laughs again, and I do too. Something that never happened in bed with Danny the dud. “Is this going to be another answer a question thing, but with nudity?”

I bite my lip and cock one brow. “Maybe. Guess you’ll have to get naked to find out.”

All two hundred plus pounds of pure man muscle collapses and groans against me, and I think I’ve just discovered how I want to die.

Suffocation by Noah. Surely there’s no better way to go.

“Are you trying to kill me, West?”

“Are you? I can’t breathe. I like it, but I can’t, and I really would like to make out some more before I expire.”

More laughter fills the space between us as Noah sits back on his knees. “You’re sure about this. The removing of the clothes, cause I must warn you. Once you see me even partially naked … You may fall in love. Rumor has it I’m pretty impressive.”

Ignoring the thumping of my heart at the L word, I skew my lips to stifle my laugh. “Impressive or depressing?”

“You tell me.” With a smile he does that sexy, taking their shirt off over the back of their neck thing, and tosses it to the floor. His dark hair is a mess, his lips swollen. His body … I knew he was an athlete. I knew he was fit, but wow.

Wow.

Wow.

He’s so … big and muscly, and pretty much hair free and his abs, holy shit. Someone get me some Parmesan to grate. I force myself to stay cool and not squeal. “Okay, so definitely impressive. Now do the pants.”

“You first. I need to see some skin, baby.”

Baby . The other four-letter word almost floors me, but again, I keep it casual. “Top or bottom?”

The cocky, half naked sexy boy freezes. I think I broke him. “Ahh. What?”

I place my hand in the smooth, warm space between his bulging pecs and press until his legs kick out beneath him and he’s flat on his back. The other large bulge now pointing directly at me distracts me for a beat, but I bravely persist in my seduction and straddle his hips. “I know I’m shy and awkward on land, but in bed? I may not be the most experienced sailor, but I know what I like and want, and right now I want you to touch me. So tell me, Captain. Top?” I cup my right boob and give it a squeeze, then point down below, “or bottom?”

That brief doubt or disbelief passes and his smirk returns. “Both. Oh and by the way? The Captain thing … I like it. A lot.” In one swift move, he sits up beneath me, grabs the hem of my top and lifts, no rips, it over my head. It was a bold, perhaps hopeful move, not wearing a bra with this man in my house, but one I’m so glad I made.

“Holy shit, they’re perfect.” Ducking his head he takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks. “Delicious, I fucking knew it.” The slight scrape of his teeth has me digging my nails into his back, clenching my thighs, and rocking, chasing the orgasm I can almost taste. “Pants,” he murmurs and kisses a trail between my breasts until he latches onto the other peaked nipple. “Off. Us. Both.”

Still suckling my breasts, he slides his hands between us, his knuckles grazing my soaked underwear and my need builds. I feel the pop of the button, every tooth unlocking in what is the loudest zipper in history, feels like an electrical shock. I run my hands up his spine, tug back his head and taste those lips again. Kissing Noah, this feeling, the heat between us is … addictive. Dangerous, and as he nibbles along my chin and down my neck, I can’t help but hear a little voice in my head, planting the seed of doubt that germinates from an innocuous sproutling to a noxious weed in seconds.

You’re a freak. This will never last. He’s going to break your heart.

Two strong hands cup my cheeks and bring me back to the moment. Hazel eyes, so bright and eager and honest, lock onto mine. “Lotte baby, you okay?” For a beat, I consider confessing my truth, Noah. I really like you. I think I could really, really, really, like you.

But I can’t. I can’t rip myself open and expose what lies within.

So I lie.

“I left the oven on.” With that I dismount the mighty beast, grab my discarded pajama top and flee.