Page 14

THIRTEEN

Olivia

The drive down to Tuross is two parts exhilarating and one part pure terror.

Once Noah tucks me into his thick leather jacket and plants his spare helmet over my head, I cling tight to his back as he ducks and weaves around corners, dipping into each bend, making me feel like I could fall off at any moment.

Once I get used to the motion of the bike, though, I realize he’s not actually going all that fast. In fact, several cars pass us when we reach a stretch where there is room to do so.

Is he going easy on me? That gives me confusing, warm feelings low in my belly until I figure he’s probably just worried about me puking in his helmet.

Once I can appreciate the ride, I press myself against his solid muscular back, and, yeah, my hands roam just a little over his sculpted abs. He’s pretty defined for someone who works with food all day. I’d never have the willpower.

Somehow I don’t think willpower is something Noah Wilson struggles with. Not based on what I’ve seen of him so far.

I’m already seriously questioning whether I can actually do this fucking without feelings thing, even when most of the time he treats me like a minor irritation.

Because every now and then, he sends me a cute message or I catch a photo with a proper smile, and something in me just melts.

It doesn’t help that he’s drop dead gorgeous.

Seriously. He’s chiseled and raw. All hard edges and bright blue eyes and a fierce look that seems like he could cut you straight to the bone with one comment. So much so that I sometimes wonder what I ever saw in Justin’s cookie-cutter handsome.

Noah stops the bike on the sleepy main street out in front of a cute little bakery.

The red-and-white sign has flaking paint, and the metal roof looks slightly rusted, but the windows are bright and clean and the cakes in the cabinet look beautiful.

Elaborately iced chocolate ganache cakes and smooth cheesecakes sit beside apple pies loaded with whipped cream, which makes the lid look like it’s exploding off the pie.

Just then, a woman with cropped blonde hair and reading glasses pushed up on top of her head emerges from a room at the back of the bakery holding an enormous three-tiered wedding cake. She’s moving slowly, watching the cake until she sets it on the counter.

When she looks up and spots us, her brows shoot up and she gives Noah an odd smile. “Noah! How are you, love? It’s been a long time. How are your parents?”

Noah shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and talks to his shoes. “Fine, thanks. We’ll just take a couple of meat pies, please. With sauce.”

I try to protest when he pays, but he insists, snatching the paper bags and shoving a twenty-dollar note across the counter.

He does not ask the shop keeper how she is, and as soon as she hands us our change, he turns and leaves the bakery.

I hurry after him. “So these are the famous pies, huh? Am I going to be amazed?”

He just shrugs and hands me a bag. “Dunno.”

I want to ask what just happened, but I’m smart enough to realize he probably won’t tell me. So I take the bag and reach inside to pull out the pie.

I’m about to take a bite and test out Noah’s theory when he snatches it back. “Don’t eat it here. And don’t eat it with no sauce. That’s blasphemy. There’s a spot down by the water.”

It’s warm, so we hang the leather jacket over the back of the bike and grab some drinks from the local supermarket, then we walk down the hill to a little jetty on a tree-covered inlet.

We sit with our feet hanging over the edge.

“Wanna talk about it?” I deliberately mirror his words to me the other night, hoping for an opening.

He just scowls into his pie.

Then looks sideways at me and gives a disparaging sigh when I try to take a bite of pie and nearly spill it in my lap.

“Here.” He takes the parcel and folds back the paper bag and the foil pan and squirts a drop of sauce onto the part I’m about to bite. Then he holds it out.

I open my mouth and he feeds me a bite, somehow making the meaty, savory flavor something erotic. The crispy, buttery pastry melts in my mouth but crumbles on my lips, and he tilts his hand, wiping a crumb from the corner of my mouth.

I flush.

Why does he have the ability to melt me with just a look? With the slightest touch?

Noah’s pie is finished, and he insists on feeding me the rest of mine.

By the time I’m done I’m flustered, my panties are damp, and meat pies are high on the list of my favorite foods. “OK, you win. That was good.”

I’m still licking my lips, enjoying the lingering taste, when Noah leans in.

His gaze drops to my lips. I almost think he’s going to kiss me.

Then he wipes his thumb across a spot on my chin and feeds a final drop of sauce into my mouth and I try not to be disappointed. I still give his thumb a thorough sucking, hoping to have some of the effect on him he’s having on me, but he turns away, apparently unmoved.

“What did it feel like the first time you had a video go viral?” he says suddenly.

It surprises me, but it doesn’t take me long to form an answer. “Unreal.” I laugh. “I couldn’t believe it had really happened. And when I started to get more and more followers, it took a long time before I realized how it would change my life.”

He nods as if he’s thought about this before. “Do you like it?”

I lift a dry leaf from the jetty beside my thigh and let it flutter into the water below us. “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s great. Being able to share a hidden gem. Or when people are friendly and leave kind or encouraging messages.” There’s a pause and, of course, I think about this week’s awful ones.

“And sometimes it’s not,” says Noah heavily, reading my mind.

“Exactly.”

“What would you have done if you hadn’t become an influencer?”

“I always wanted to be a chef, but I’m not really a very good cook.” I smile at him. “I’m much better at eating and writing about food than I am at making it.”

“Sometimes I don’t know how you find so many ways to describe what I just feel. What I know. I love your channel. I find it hard to look away.”

A shiver runs right up my spine, and it’s me who can’t look away from the intensely honest expression on his face as he looks at me.

“What’s it like when you change? When you transform into a monster?” I don’t know what makes me ask him, except that moment where the walls seem to almost have come down. I want to stay here longer, so I sort of blurt the intimate question out.

“Shift.”

I frown. “Huh?”

“We call it shifting. And it’s hard to explain. I don’t think about it often. It just feels natural. I’ve been this way all my life.”

“I think it’s beautiful.” Since we’re being honest, I tell him, but I have to drop my gaze and when I hear his low chuckle, I squirm in place.

“Do you now? You’re the first human who’s ever said that to me.”

At this, I look up. “All the colors spreading over your skin? It’s amazing.”

“Maybe you’d like to watch it again.”

I can’t help matching his flirtatious grin as he pulls his shirt over his head and stands to unbutton his fly. “What, here?”

“Why not? No one’s around.”

I giggle, looking around to check, but he’s right. The area is isolated from the rest of town and surrounded by trees. The jetty is old and the building which looks like it used to be a storehouse or a club house is abandoned.

“Come on,” Noah says. “Come in with me.”

My mouth drops open. “But I don’t have my bathing suit!”

“Neither do I. What a shame that we’d both be naked. I can’t promise my tentacles won’t roam. It would be a shame for you to miss it.” With a wink, he slides his jeans and underwear over his hips, exposing his lower belly and cock. Even soft he’s impressive. I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry.

Can I do this? Skinny dipping in the middle of the day in public is such a wildly outrageous act, I’d never even consider it back home.

Noah doesn’t leave me long to consider. He tosses aside the jeans and grins at me. “Five seconds to decide, Zeston.” Then he dives right in.