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NOAH

My eyes scan the room. No Charlotte in sight. Bringing the mocktails to our table, I set them down, returning to my search. The dance floor is packed, and I roam the perimeter, wondering if maybe she got roped into another dance with a family friend.

It would be the third tonight.

The event has been stuffy and full of small talk, which I hate, but I can’t deny it’s a welcome distraction from the conversation with Mom and Tony today. The cherry on top is having Charlotte glued to my side, looking like mine.

Because she is.

“Hey,” Charlotte says, and I spin to face her, sad, tired eyes boring into mine.

“What’s wrong?”

She glances around. “Not here.”

“Come on,” I say, holding out a hand.

She slides her palm in mine, and I lead us to the middle of the dance floor, the crowd giving us privacy like at the Barracudas’ gala all those months ago.

My free hand falls to her hip as we sway to the music, and I lean down to her ear. “Talk to me.”

She rests her head against mine. “My mother took the news as expected.”

I squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She doesn’t think I’m ready to be a mom.” Her voice cracks. “She thinks I can’t do it.”

I pull her head to my chest, covering her broken face from onlookers. To anyone watching, we’re two lovers having an intimate moment. “You are going to be a great mom,” I say, caressing her hair.

“You don’t know that,” she mumbles against me.

“Of course I do. You’re fantastic with kids. Extremely patient. All the things that will make you a great teacher will also make you an incredible mom.”

She pulls away, moist eyes looking up to mine. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” I tell her with a soft smile.

She gnaws on her lower lip. “I may have also agreed to something stupid.”

My muscles seize. “What?”

“I agreed to take the twins for their fall break next month.”

My anxieties disappear, and I laugh. “What’s so bad about that?”

“Well, I offered your house without even asking you.”

“ Our house,” I remind her. “Or did you forget you live there too?” Does she not want to anymore?

She fights a smile. “Okay, but I still should have asked.”

“You don’t need my permission,” I say, sliding my hand to the small of her back. “The twins are always welcome in our home.”

“I will never be able to express how grateful I am for you.” She rests her hand against my cheek, and my eyes flutter shut as I lean into it. “You make this all seem so easy.”

Loving you is easy.

Like breathing.

Like gravity.

Like home .

“You’re worth it.” I bring her palm to my lips, kissing it.

“And I guess while we’re at it, let’s get the heavy stuff over with?” She smiles weakly, as we sway to the music. “So we can enjoy the rest of our date night ?”

I nod, hooking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Only if you’re ready.”

“I am.” She releases a heavy sigh. “Jonathan won’t be a problem.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, hand pausing against her face.

“He doesn’t want to be involved.”

Color me shocked. My lips flatten in a straight line. “He said that?”

“Actually, he threw money at me for an abortion,” she says, and my mouth falls open, anger pulsating through me. “So that kinda got the point across.”

“He did what ?” My grip tightens on her hand.

“He”—she releases a shaky breath—“tried to pay me off so I’d get an abortion.”

My jaw ticks, and I attempt to fight the firenado swirling in my chest.

I’m going to kill him.

“If I had slept with you over spring break, we could have at least tricked ourselves into thinking it wasn’t his,” I say, my tone lacking humor.

“Trust me,” she deadpans, resting her head against my chest, “I think about that every day.” We sway, and I shove down the anger. The song changes, and she looks up at me, our eyes connecting. “Ready to move on from the heavy stuff?”

“You lead, I follow, soffione. ”

She places a hand on my neck. “I’ve really missed you.”

Guilt settles in my stomach. “I’ve missed you too.”

“No.” She shakes her head, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards. “I’ve missed you.” She rubs her thumb along the column of my throat. “And our lessons. ”

I fight a smile. “You have?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “Have you?”

“Of course,” I say with a chuckle.

“Then why haven’t you offered any classes, Professor?”

“Because I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” I’ve been so unsure where her head is, and the last thing I want to do is talk her into something she doesn’t want. She mentioned Jonathan did that to her before, and I never, ever want to make her feel the way he did.

“You know what I want?” she asks, sliding her fingers into my hair and pulling me towards her. “To shut off my brain, pretend the world around us isn’t imploding, and get fucked. Hard. Think you can help with that?”

That sounds incredible. And direct. “My office hours are open the rest of the evening, Ms. Benson.”

“Wonderful.” She grins up at me, dragging a fingernail along my neck. The entire room has faded away, once again, and all I see, feel, hear, is her. “And don’t you dare treat me like I’m fragile. Tonight, I want to let go and have some fun.” I nod, unable to speak. She stands on her tiptoes, lips to my ear. “Take me home, Noah.”

Home.

* * *

The hum of the engine fills the cab, paired only with the shuffling satin of Charlotte’s dress as she squirms in her seat. My left hand holds the steering wheel, the other is gripping her thigh, and I like to think I’m partly responsible for her restlessness.

It’s eighty more minutes, give or take, to our house, and I am counting down the damn seconds. I’m dying to pull the truck over on this dark country highway, bend her over my tailgate, and fuck her senseless.

But I’m a patient man.

So I’ll wait till we’re at home, where I can watch her fall apart in the light.

Inching up the dress, I dip under her panties and coat my fingers in her arousal. She releases a breathy moan, and I bring my hand to my lips, sucking off her sweet taste.

“ Mmm . I’ve missed you.”

“Are you talking to me or my pussy?” she asks with a cheeky smile.

“Both.”

In my peripheral, she shifts around the passenger seat, and ten seconds later, her panties land in my lap. I snatch them, side-eying her, and a lone streetlight briefly illuminates a dangerous, mischievous glint in her eyes. I definitely like where this is heading.

“Care to place a bet?” she asks as I shove them in my pocket.

“What do you have in mind?”

“If I can get you to pull over this truck and fuck me before we make it to the highway, then I get to be in charge when we get home.”

As if she needs to win a bet to be in charge. “And if I’m able to make it?”

“I’ll let you tie me up and blindfold me.” My head whips to her, and she giggles. “Remember BDSM is part of the curriculum?”

My heart stops as visions of her bound and begging for me flash through my mind. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she confirms. “I’m sure.”

“Deal,” I say without hesitation.

More shifting in the passenger seat, and a large clump of black silk is tossed my way.

“Holy shit. Are you naked?” My eyes dart to her briefly, confirming my suspicions. I groan, forcing my eyes back to the road, and toss her dress in the backseat.

“Yes, Daddy, I am.” My dick jumps.

“Don’t you ‘Daddy’ me.”

“But Mommy is soooo horny,” she whines.

Yep. That’s it. We’re going to die here tonight because this woman gave me a heart attack by forcing all the blood to my dick.

“Charlotte,” I warn, gripping the steering wheel. Sneaking another peek, I discover her hand is between her legs.

“Please, baby, ” she moans, and it’s fake but it’s still so goddamn hot.

Noah Caruso. You will not fuck this woman on the side of this highway. You will keep your dick in your pants and wait till you’re home to tie her up and make her beg for being such a damn tease.

She gasps. “I wish you were inside of me.”

Merda. I carefully but very quickly maneuver to the side of the highway, and Charlotte squeals with delight.

“That was easier than I thought.” She beams as I put the truck in park and click on the hazards. While hopping out, I tug off my bow tie and then round to her side. Upon pulling open the door, she’s illuminated by the cab’s light, and I’m thankful there’s no sign of life for miles. Her grin is wide and victorious, shoulders pushed back, tits begging for a taste.

Noah, focus!

Our eyes meet, and I grin, grabbing both her hands and bringing them before her.

“What are you…?” I wrap the bowtie around them, securing it with a tight knot. “Noah! You’re only allowed to tie me up if you win.”

“It’s just your hands, soffione .”

“I’m calling a flag on the play.” She pouts, lifting her bonded wrists. “Holding.”

“The penalty has been declined.” I wink, slamming the door, and her protests are muffled as I round the truck.

“This isn’t fair!” she insists as I get back in the driver’s side. “How can I touch your dick with my hands tied?”

“Was that next on your itinerary of torture?” I ask, buckling myself back in.

“Honey, shouldn’t you know better than anyone?” she says, the pet name making me squirm. “A quarterback doesn’t share their playbook.”

“If you’re trying to get my dick hard with sports analogies,” I say, pulling back onto the road, “it’s working.”

“Good, because I’m still on offense,” she says smugly, and I shake my head. Adorable.

A symphony of sweet moans fills the cab, and every hair on my body stands.

“What are you doing?” I ask, readjusting my grip on the steering wheel.

“ Ohh yes ,” she whines. “Yeah, baby. Fuck me harder!”

I pull her panties out of my pocket, reach over, and shove them in her mouth mid-squeal.

“There, that’s better,” I say, grin wide across my face as she shrieks through the fabric.

She spits them out. “Noah Gabriel Caruso! You are going to be in so much trouble when we get home.”

“Didn’t you say I’m not supposed to enjoy when you punish me? Because given your state of undress, I think I’ll enjoy it very much.”

“We’ll see about that,” she sasses, and I reach out, turning on the seat warmer so she won’t get cold. “What are you doing?”

“Heating up my dinner.”

She snorts. “You did not just say that!”

“If you don’t stop talking, I’ll shove the panties in your mouth again.”

“Maybe I liked it.”

I side-eye her. “I don’t appreciate the reverse psychology.”

Releasing a deep breath, I give myself a pep talk and remind myself of those rules I used to hate so much. Surely I can stick to them for another—I glance at the clock—sixty-two minutes.

One: don’t touch Charlotte.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

Two: don’t think about Charlotte.

Well, that won’t be possible. She’s naked and desperate with desire on my passenger seat.

Three: don’t text Charlotte.

Not relevant.

Four: don’t kiss Charlotte.

I can definitely wait to break that rule till we’re home.

One hundred percent positive I can do that.

Sixty-two minutes to home.

My jaw ticks as she rubs her tied-up hands along my thigh.

Forty-three minutes to home.

She’s leaned back in the passenger seat, using her foot to stroke over my dick. Creative.

Seventeen minutes to home.

She’s telling me about her most recent masturbation fantasy that included me, her, and a variety of sex toys I’ll be ordering immediately.

I can’t do it.

Our tongues tangle as the truck is parked in the corner of some gas station right off the exit in Crystal Bay. We’re five fucking minutes from the house, but I need at the bare minimum to taste her lips. That’s why my hands are in her hair, fingers arching inside her needy cunt, edging her till she hates me, and my dick is screaming at me to put the damn truck back in drive.

Gasping, I remove my hand, and she whimpers.

“ Noah ,” she whines, squirming in her seat, her beautiful naked body quivering. “I fucking hate you right now.”

“You think this is bad?” I say, forcing myself back in the driver’s seat, a wide grin spread across my face. “Just wait till we get home.”

Ten minutes later, she squeals as I toss her naked body on our bed and leave the room.

“Where are you going?” Charlotte calls after me, and I ignore her, rushing through the house to obtain a thin rope and a dining chair. When I return to the bedroom, her eyes widen, a huge grin spreading across her face. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asks, hopping off the mattress and strolling over. My eyes trail her hungrily head to toes, elated to be back in a lit-up room where I can see the full masterpiece. So much soft skin.

“Preparing for your bondage lesson,” I say, unravelling the cord, a rush of anticipation flowing through me. She snatches it from my hands with a smile so sinister I know I’ll enjoy whatever comes next.

“Since you displayed poor sportsmanship”—she tsks—“I’m declaring myself the rightful winner.”

“This is why players aren’t allowed to double as referees,” I say, feigning annoyance when in reality I’m more turned on than a rocket engine blasting to space.

“Sorry.” Charlotte juts her lower lip out in a pout. “Maybe next time you’ll play by the rules.” Unlikely. She places a finger on my chest, dragging it against my skin as she circles me, eliciting full body shivers. I’m really going to enjoy this. “You’ve been a very naughty quarterback.” Standing before me, she presses her hand against my chest and shoves me, forcing me to stumble onto the seat. The rope dangles from her fingertips. “Hands behind your back.”

Oh, fuck.

The idea of tying her up and teasing her till she hates me is definitely appealing, but her doing it? I struggle to suppress my excitement. She can’t know just how much I’m going to enjoy this.

“What are my crimes?” I ask in mock annoyance, bringing my hands behind the chair.

She wraps the cord around my wrists and then the back of the chair, tying it tightly in place. Yanking at them, I confirm she did a damn good job. I don’t think I could even break this open with all my strength. Fuck. This is so hot.

“Well, your first offense is not giving me an orgasm in over two months,” she says. “But since that was partially self-inflicted due to lack of communication on my part, I’ll let you off with a warning.”

I chuckle. “And my second offense?”

“Cancelling our FaceTime date when I was all dressed up—or rather, down—for phone sex.”

My eyes snap to hers. “Excuse me, what?”

“When you were in New York and missed our FaceTime?” She purses her lips. “I had something special planned.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Guilt racks through me. I’m trying to balance games and practices and press conferences, but Charlotte should never feel in last place.

“Save the apologies.” She bites her lower lip to stifle a smile. “If you want me, you’ll have to beg.”

“Beg?” I repeat, hands secured behind my back, the chair digging into my biceps.

“Yep.” Her smile is wicked as she places her hands on my clothed thighs. “Patience isn’t always a virtue, Mr. Caruso.” She slides them up slowly, and our eyes connect. Have I died and gone to heaven? “I was going to let you fuck me senseless in the back of your truck.” My dick twitches, and her lips graze mine. “But now you’ll have to beg.”