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I blink. The question takes me off guard. But why not? I’ll probably never see this guy again, and he’s been so nice to me. Since I’ve already cried on his shoulder, I may as well vent to him as well. “It’s probably nothing.” I take a sip of wine.

Noah snorts. “Didn’t seem like nothing back there in the storage cupboard.”

I sigh. “My boyfriend and I were supposed to be spending this week on vacation.”

“But?” Noah sips his wine, watching me.

“But he’s not coming. Couldn’t make it.” I shrug, trying to affect indifference.

Noah scowls. “Why the fuck not?”

I shake my head. I can’t speak. My throat is too dry. My hand is shaking so much wine dribbles over the lip of the glass.

“Sorry.” Noah takes the glass from me and sets it on the counter behind me. “I’ve upset you.”

He’s so close to me that I’m tipping my chin up to look into his eyes. Our lips are close. So close it makes me remember the way he licked the chocolate from his lip earlier. Something I have no reason to be thinking about right now.

My head is swimming. I had too much wine. Too much wine and too much thinking. Only my thoughts are suddenly anywhere but on what we were talking about.

Noah still doesn’t step back. A little growl low in his throat snaps me out of my thoughts and straight back into the moment. “Sounds like he’s just fucking you around. You shouldn’t let anyone treat you that way.”

I don’t want to cry again. I don’t want him to remember me as the girl who blubbered on his shoulder twice in one night. So I do the only thing I can think of right then to stop myself. I stretch up on my toes, wrap my arms around his shoulders, and kiss him.

Noah hesitates for only a moment. My lips press against his, and I make the smallest movement, and all of a sudden, his arms slide around my waist.

At least I think it’s his arms.

I hadn’t stopped to think about how kissing a kraken would be different from kissing a human man. Suddenly Noah’s hands and tentacles are everywhere. At my waist, brushing a long red curl from my cheek, curling around my ankles, and teasing up my thighs.

I gasp as the sensations overload me.

I expected his tentacles to feel slimy or sticky. Instead they’re soft and smooth as they glide over my skin.

Noah uses the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

His tongue nudges into my mouth, playing with mine.

The lingering flavor of liqueur and coconut sweeten the kiss until I’m drowning in it.

This is a hundred times better than any kiss I’ve ever had before.

He caresses my lips with his, teasing and withdrawing only to surge forward and demand once more.

He pulls me closer. My body molds to his.

Between us, a hard bulge pushes against his apron, pressing into my belly.

I moan and lift onto my tiptoes, trying to feel it where I want it most. My pussy throbs with awareness and an empty ache. A need to be filled.

This has gone from zero to a hundred in the blink of an eye, and I’m not ready to stop here. I want the dial up to a thousand. I want this never to end. I want the swirling, giddy feeling of kissing Noah Wilson to push away all my bad thoughts and worries from the last day.

There’s a crash as Noah sweeps a tentacle across the counter, tossing food and bowls and equipment onto the floor, then he cups my ass and lifts me onto the space he’s just cleared.

My legs seem to spread by themselves. Or maybe it’s his tentacles wrapped around them.

Either way, my cotton panties are fully exposed as my dress rides up, and for the first time the cool air of the kitchen in that sensitive area makes me fully aware of just how wet I am.

I shudder as he slides a hand up my thigh and grazes the outside of my underwear with a knuckle.

He lets out a low curse and makes another pass, pressing harder, circling my clit through the fabric.

Oh god!

If he keeps that up, I’ll come on his hand through my panties. I’m needy. Desperate for more, but he stops. “Oh, that’s so fucking unfair.”

I’m about to ask him what he means.

My brain is too foggy for me to comprehend his words.

But he tugs at the hem of my dress until I wriggle enough to let him lift it over my head.

I should probably stop him, but instead, as he drops my dress to the ground, I quickly reach behind and unfasten my bra.

The next moment it joins my dress on the floor and my pink, peaked nipples are practically crying out for his attention.

“Why’d you have to be so fucking wet?”

“You don’t like it?”

He laughs. It’s a short, harsh sound. His breathing is ragged, and he leans closer, dipping his head toward my breasts. “No, I bloody love it. It’s my weakness.”

Then his mouth closes over my nipple and my back bows.

My mind switches off entirely for a good few minutes while he plays with my breast and teases my nipple.

He circles the sensitive peak with his tongue.

He flicks it with his lips and teeth. He works me into a frenzy until just as I think I can’t take it anymore, he moves to the other breast.

If he thinks I was wet before, he’s seen nothing. I know without looking my panties are soaked. Drenched. Flooded.

Lucky he is supporting me with a hand on my neck, because otherwise I would have melted into a puddle on the floor by now.

A firm touch tugs aside my panties. It’s not his hand. It’s his tentacle. It doesn’t matter. It feels like I’ve died and gone to heaven when he slips the tip through my wet pussy lips and slides it carefully over my clit.

I cry out.

He repeats the motion. It’s too good.

I’m quivering in his arms, pleading with him in incoherent sounds.

“Shh. I’ve got you. You need this don’t you?”

I nod.

His tentacle slips to my entrance and I part my legs wider.

“Do you need to come, gorgeous?”

“Yes. Oh god. Please!” I’m whining, but I’m beyond caring. I don’t think I’ve ever needed anything more.

I can’t question it any more when he nudges inside, the tip finding the perfect angle as he suckles again on my breasts.

A few more quick strokes inside my pussy and a tug of his mouth on my nipple, and I shatter.

I clench around him. My body shakes. I clutch desperately at his neck as the spasms overtake me and my legs convulse.

The second wave of pleasure makes me seize up, and by the time it eases I’m gasping for air.

We’re both breathing hard.

Noah slowly withdraws from my body. He dips his head, eyes pressed shut for a long moment. “Fuck.” He shakes his head. “Your man was a fucking loser for throwing this away.”

My man!

Oh god. Those words don’t seem to connect to Justin. Not after today. Not after that.

But Noah’s right. Even though he let me down, Justin is still my boyfriend. And what have I done?

I pull back, and the look of horror on my face must be obvious. Noah’s brows, already drawn into a frown, close tighter together. “What is it?”

I’m shaking my head. My throat is tight and I can’t seem to form the words. “He hasn’t. I mean not yet. I mean we haven’t—”

Now it’s Noah’s turn to pull away. He steps back, lifting his hands as if he’s been burned. “You haven’t what? Spit it out, Olivia.”

I cover my mouth with my hand and the words come out muffled. “We haven’t broken up. Not officially. We haven’t really talked.”

Noah curses. “No. No fucking way. Not again.”

I can’t make sense of his words and he doesn’t give me a chance. Before I can speak again, he turns and hurries from the room. “Let yourself out.”

The doors to the restaurant swing violently behind him as he leaves.

With trembling hands, I collect my clothes and dress myself. It takes me longer than it should because I fumble over every item.

There’s a swell of nausea in my belly, and when I bend over to put my shoes back on it rises, threatening to overwhelm me.

For a long moment I have to simply stand and breathe.

I just cheated on Justin. With a guy I barely know. Because we had one silly fight that wasn’t even a fight. Because I got upset.

I never thought I’d do such a thing.