Page 24 of Numbers Boy (Working Boys #2)

Noah’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he leans down and kisses me.

I respond instantly, not caring that we’re in public or that we’re both now covered in mud.

All that matters is that this wonderful, handsome man wants to kiss me.

We stay like that for an infinite moment.

Lips brushing together, alternating between light, playful touches and deeper, more pressing kisses.

Eventually, we come up for air, but before we can stand, Noah brings his hand up to trace my cheek tenderly.

My gut swoops at the sweetness of the gesture, but then he grins, and I realize what he just did.

“Rude,” I say through a laugh, bringing my own mud-covered fingers up to wipe along his nose. Noah just grins wider and finally stands.

“Worth it. You’re cute when you’re messy.”

He reaches his hand out for me this time and pulls me up while my mind catches on the simplicity of those words.

There was no artifice there, no hidden meaning or backhanded compliment.

He really means it. He likes when I’m made up, but he still thinks I’m beautiful when I’m not.

And even now, face and clothes full of dirt, Noah thinks I’m cute.

It’s me he likes, I realize, not how I look.

While I’m mentally working through my growing feelings, Noah has gotten Stacy back on her leash and ready to go.

She’s looking at us both like we’re a little strange, covered as we are in mud, while she stands there with barely a spot of dirt on her.

I push aside the thoughts of how good Noah is to me to be reexamined later.

Now, it’s time to figure out our muddy clothing predicament.

“My place is closer,” I point out. “Why don’t you come back with us and get cleaned up?”

Noah nods, and we head out of the park, Stacy cheerfully walking with Noah, her tongue lolling out. They’re adorable together, and I hope we have a lot more nights like this. Although, maybe with less mud.

The whole way home, we’re joking and laughing, doing our best to wipe off most of the dirt before we get inside.

As I push the door to my apartment open, I rub the back of my hand across my face so my sleeve can clear my cheek.

I bend down to get my boots off and then get Stacy’s booties as well.

I still can’t believe she stayed so clean while Noah and I are complete messes.

My grin firmly in place, I stand and turn to face Noah.

His whiskey eyes are creased a bit at the corners from his own smile, and he chuckles as they track over my face.

Noah steps toward me, one hand rising to thumb over my cheekbone, much like he did at the park.

But this time, something feels different about the touch.

I gasp at the soft pressure against my skin, and it’s like all of the air has been sucked out of the room.

Noah’s smile freezes like he feels it, too.

We both take a step closer, eyes locked on each other’s.

“You missed a spot,” he whispers, almost reverently.

I lick my lips, trying to wet my suddenly dry mouth. When I reply, my voice matches his in volume. “Maybe you should help me with that.”

Noah nods wordlessly, so I slip one hand into his and tug him toward my bathroom, uncaring about the mud I’m sure we’re tracking everywhere. It will wash.

“Stacy, bed,” I say without looking at my pup, but I hear her plod off toward the living room like the good girl she is.

Once we’ve made it to the bathroom, I drop Noah’s hand to reach into my shower/tub combo to start the water heating up.

Wordlessly, we both strip, eyes roaming over the other as skin is revealed.

Noah is gorgeous, all thick muscles and winding tattoos.

His face is locked on my body, serious as he watches me.

It reminds me of the first time I saw him at Spill the Beans.

The way his rugged, angular face melted with his smile.

Right now, his smile is nowhere to be found, gaze intense as it trails over my chest and torso before dropping to where I’m tugging off my pants, leaving just a pale pink jockstrap in place.

I swear the room heats as his eyes darken with lust, and he licks his soft lips.

My own lips drop open when Noah’s strong hands push his boxer briefs to the ground, and his erection bobs free.

It’s the first time I’m seeing his cock in person, I realize.

I’ve felt it against me, and I saw the aftermath of our phone jerk-off, but I’ve never had it right here, within touching distance.

I reach my hand out and step closer. “Please?” I ask, eyes jumping from where they were taking in Noah’s thick cock to meet his steady gaze. The heat and blatant need I find there makes my own erection pulse.

“Anything you want, Princess,” he says, and it feels like a vow. Like whatever I want, both in this moment and in life, will be mine if he has any say over the matter. The thought slides hotly down my spine and lands in my gut, displacing a bit more of the doubt left from before him.

My hand closes around his cock, and my desire ratchets up higher at the feel of him.

He’s thick and hot, the perfect size to hit all the right places without making a second round out of the question.

Unfortunately, even a first round is out of the question right now since I don’t have any condoms or lube in the bathroom, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting him go long enough to go get them.

I slide my fist along his length a few times, heart thudding happily at the low moan the action elicits.

Noah reaches out one arm and loops it around my back, tugging me closer.

His other hand toys with the elastic of my underwear, following it along my hips teasingly before tracing the lower straps under my ass.

I melt against his chest, my free hand resting on his pec as I continue to slowly explore his cock.

“I still can’t believe you’re hiding all of this” – he punctuates his words with a firm grasp to one ass cheek, making me gasp – “under your clothes.”

I swipe my thumb over his crown, gathering the precum there to ease my strokes the slightest bit, and arch my lower back in invitation. “All for you.”

Those words seem to hit Noah deep inside somewhere because the next thing I know, his lips are on mine, and he’s backing me toward the shower, then sliding open the light blue curtain.

He bends down slightly to scoop his arm under my butt and lifts me into the tub, jockstrap still firmly in place.

I let out a little “eep” of surprise, both hands going around his neck as he maneuvers me where he wants.

Noah sets me down just next to the spray of warm water, then grabs my shower gel and drizzles some into his palm. Noah turns me to face the wall before he asks, “Do you mean that? Are you all for me, Princess?”

“Y-yes,” I breathe out, any other words I might have said disappearing from my brain as it goes offline.

Noah’s big, warm hands are running along my body, washing me reverently.

Arms, shoulders, back, Noah is touching me everywhere.

Everywhere, that is, except for where I want him most. My cock is straining against the pouch of my jockstrap, soaked from the spray of the shower.

Before I can think to ask for more, Noah is slipping one strong arm around my chest and pulling me back against him. The other skims down my stomach, then toys again with my waistband. “I promise you won’t regret that. I’ll take good care of you, beautiful.”

My head rolls back on his shoulder as his fingers dip beneath the elastic and his hand encircles my shaft.

I let out a groan at the slick, soapy feel of him as he starts to stroke.

He sets a slow, steady pace, not teasing, but not enough to make this be over too fast. His other hand is busy, too, caressing my chest, tweaking my nipples, circling my belly button.

“So perfect,” he praises, lips covering my neck with kisses. “Such a perfect princess letting me explore him.”

I whimper at the sweet words and reach a hand back to thread through his hair and keep him close. “More.”

“Anything,” he reminds me. “Place your hands on the wall, Princess. Let me take care of you.”

I do what he says, mind going deliciously hazy as Noah runs his hands soothingly over my back before spreading my cheeks.

“Fuck, Stevie,” he groans. I feel his thumbs running over my pucker and push back into the touch. “Would you bottom for me sometime?”

The question pulls me up short for a second. I guess we never have discussed preferences, and I kind of love that he didn’t assume. I turn my head to glance over my shoulder. “Yes, please,” I say with a smile.

Noah smiles back and presses an almost chaste kiss to my lips. Almost chaste because while his mouth is being nice, his fingers are being naughty. They dig into my ass, spreading me further so he can glide his erection over my hole.

“Soon,” is all he says, and then he reaches for more shower gel. “Right now, I want to fuck your sweet thighs.”

My gut clenches at the desperate quality of his voice, and I turn to face the wall again, forehead resting on my arms. Noah wastes no time in pulling off my jock, slicking himself up, and encouraging my legs closer together.

Then he’s fucking against me, slow and gentle.

With each thrust, his cockhead slides along my taint and catches my balls in a delicious way.

Pleasure engulfs me, making my muscles quiver and tugging me under with every movement.

A litany of gasps and moans is the only thing I can manage, my words drowned out once more by the feelings this man creates in me.