Page 37 of The Brave and the Reckless (Bravetown #1)

“It’s okay, I’m on the pill,” I said because I felt the hot trickle of his release that he probably had a prime view of.

“Good to know, but no.” Noah’s fingers trailed over my stomach, tracing patterns to expose my skin under the layer of mud.

It took me a moment to recognize the pattern.

He was connecting the distance between my freckles, brushing the dirt from them as if he knew exactly where to find each one. “There’s no hot water, remember?”

Cleaning up without running hot water sounded like torture .

Noah didn’t take me to the bathroom though.

He sat me on the kitchen counter and brought the tea kettle to boil, then mixed the hot water into a sink full of cold water.

Using a dishtowel with little horses printed all over it, he gently brushed the mud off my skin.

He started with my face, only to ruin his progress when he leaned in to kiss me, so he let me clean his face, too.

His lids fluttered shut under my fingers and I spent more time cleaning him than I actually needed, just to keep touching him.

Bit by bit, he made his way down my body.

He peeled me out of the plaid shirt and caressed every inch he cleaned with soft kisses.

When the sink looked worse than the skin on my belly, he put the kettle on again and kissed me until he could continue dabbing me down with hot water.

The real torture was the fact that he wouldn’t let me touch him back because he was still covered in dirt .

When he got to the space between my thighs, he took out a fresh dishtowel and carefully washed that part of my body, too. He paid every cleaned inch extra attention with his kisses, until I was clutching the edge of the counter for support and moaning his name again.

The comforting haze he wrapped me in drowned out everything else until his touch made it down my calf and he unzipped my boot.

“Wait,” I gasped and pulled my leg away from him.

His brows jumped up, but he didn’t move to grab my boot again.

I could run to the bathroom and take the boots and braces off and stash them somehow. Or I could just say that I had weak ankles. Sounded a bit Victorian but it might work. At least until tomorrow morning, when I’d need painkillers to get out of bed after everything I’d put my body through today.

“I have a thing,” I sighed and watched Noah closely.

“For boots?”

“No,” I laughed, grateful for one last joke before his perception of me changed. “Less kinky, more medical.”

Noah reached for my foot again, and I placed it in his palms. He pulled the boot off and brushed his fingertips over the thick black brace that had been perfectly hidden by the snug leather. “Did you sprain your ankle?”

“No, uhm…” I pulled the socked foot from his grasp and replaced it with the other one.

Noah took that boot off, too, and tilted his head when he found another brace underneath.

“Remember how I said that I had a lot of inside time as a kid and that I grew up bubble-wrapped? That was slightly more literal than metaphorical. I constantly got badly hurt as a kid and even had some surgeries you usually don’t need until you’re middle-aged, and they couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me for a while, but uhm…

I basically have weak tissues. Like, the protective lining that’s keeping my body held together isn’t great at doing its job.

For me, it’s mostly my joints, so I kinda bubble-wrap them when I need to.

Hypermobility means I’m super bendy though.

So prepare for some mind-blowing sex.” I grimaced after adding that last part.

I’d never done this, and I was making it so awkward.

Noah stayed quiet for a moment, processing, thumb still circling over my ankle. “Can I take these off? Your socks are soaked.”

“Yeah.” I nodded and waited for his reaction.

Noah carefully undid the Velcro to unwrap my ankles. I couldn’t stop the deep sigh that escaped me. Those things were kind of like bras. Supportive, preventing unwanted jiggles, but, god , it felt good when they came off at the end of the day.

He placed my socks and braces on the counter and ran his hands back up my legs until he stood between my knees, his expression still neutral.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Is that why you wanted to become a doctor?”

That wasn’t one of the questions I’d expected him to ask.

“Yes.”

He seemed to consider my answer while his fingers feathered over my right knee, finding the faint surgery scars from years ago. “Are you in pain right now?”

“Just the normal amount. ”

“The normal amount should be zero.”

I shrugged. I didn’t want to turn this into an even bigger pity party by pointing out the chronic part of chronic illness.

He weighed his head from side to side. “Would you rather have bendy mind-blowing sex on the sofa or in bed?”

I grinned. Even though the sofa might have been more conducive to what he had in mind, I wasn’t going to turn down soft sheets and a blanket right now. “Bed.”

Noah stripped out of his own dirty clothes, granting me a look at all the sloped and hardened muscles I’d only ever felt through fabric.

His was the kind of body earned through physical labor, not sharply defined, but sculpted to a width and strength you couldn’t get at the gym.

God, I wanted to run my hands over every inch of him.

Instead, I watched him clean off quickly.

He wasn’t as meticulous as he’d been with me, toweling off the mud with rough strokes, but that didn’t stop the water from pearling down his sun-kissed skin.

And it certainly didn’t stop the burning heat from pooling at the base of my spine again.

If anything, I wanted those rough hands on me.

Noah knew what he was doing to me. He pinned me in place with a cocky grin, not breaking eye contact once until he tossed the dishtowel in the sink.

My toes were curled tight in anticipation when he finally whisked me off the counter and carried me to the large bedroom under the roof.

The sloped ceilings and beams across the gable were made from a warm wood that gave the entire space a cozy feeling even if there wasn’t much more to it than a bed with white sheets and blankets.

It was placed right under a large skylight almost the same size as the mattress itself, letting in plenty of light and offering a breathtaking view of the storm clouds still hanging low in the sky.

He set me down in front of him slowly, chest pressed against my back, his forearm still braced around my waist from behind.

“It’s not much,” he started to say.

“It’s perfect,” I cut him off and tilted my head back to get a look at him. He furrowed his brow as if he was trying to puzzle out whether I was teasing him, but for once, I wasn’t. “It’s perfect.”

Leaning down, Noah grazed his lips over mine. “I know this isn’t what you’re used to.”

Huh . Considering Noah’s closeness to my brother, it hadn’t crossed my mind that he’d feel awkward about our different backgrounds.

I didn’t. “In case you haven’t noticed, I ran away from everything I’m used to.

I’m choosing what I like for myself. And I like this.

I like your home. I like the way you make me feel, Noah, the way you touch me. ”

Maybe I even liked him .

I wanted to strangle him half the time for being rude and domineering and stiff, but he was also determined and selfless and always there to catch me.

He was physically strong, and that was great, sure, but after everything he’d told me today, seeing this place, I also understood how much quiet strength he carried.

He was resilient. And, god, he was beautiful.

I ran my hand into his hair, twirling his white streak around my finger, and pulled him to me. My lips bridged the last gap between us as I chose to kiss him.

Tension ebbing, Noah sighed against my mouth and the sound weakened my knees. If his arm hadn’t still been wrapped around my waist, I would have melted to the floor.

His tongue nudged mine, finding all the ways he could kiss me and tease needy sounds from me.

The kiss was passionate, but it was also patient.

He wasn’t just consuming me; he was exploring me.

I’d never been kissed like this. I wanted to savor it.

The longer he kissed me, the harder I clenched my thighs, fighting the heat simmering in my core, just to prolong the moment.

He was holding himself back, too, if the growing erection pressing against my backside was any indication.

“Oh god,” I whimpered as his teeth cut a sharp crescent across my bottom lip.

“You’re intoxicating, Esra,” he rasped, a large hand brushing over my flushed cheek and tugging stray curls behind my ear. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of the way you taste.”

“Then don’t stop.” I pulled him back to me, but instead of kissing me, Noah lowered his mouth to my neck. Goosebumps raised in the wake of every kiss.

His hand brushed down to my chest. Fingertips feathered across my skin, tracing slow circles around and around my nipple until it peaked into the air without him even touching it.

He kissed a searing path across my shoulder and repeated his slow play around the other nipple.

I squirmed against him, needing more than what he was giving me.

I was suddenly way too aware of being completely naked, in the middle of an almost empty room.

All I felt were cold floorboards against my soles, warm air tickling my skin, and Noah’s hands and lips, his body pressing into me, his heat mingling with mine.

I couldn’t even push him against a wall or pull him into bed with me. Everything was so far away.

“Noah, please,” I breathed.

“I get more than seven minutes today. I’m taking my time.” His voice dropped to a low rumble. This wasn’t up for discussion, apparently, and that firmness just made my inner walls pulse with need for him.

I tried to turn, to at least align us face-to-face, but his arms kept me locked in place.

“No-ah,” I whined, reduced to pure petulant need as his finger circled my nipple, closer and closer, but never touching, never giving me that rush of heat I craved.

“Not yet,” he chuckled.

Pushing one foot in between mine, he nudged my legs apart. Just enough for me to feel the soft air against the wetness at the crest of my thighs and between my legs. God, I was covered in it, Noah’s cum mixed with my own resurgent arousal.

Torturing me, his fingers kept mapping my breasts, as I stood, exposed and open and desperate for more.

Apparently, I had to do it myself if I didn’t want to die from sexual frustration.

I dropped a hand, but before I could touch myself, Noah snatched my wrist. He tugged my arm behind my back and locked my hand at waist level.

Not only was he denying me my own pleasure, but his grip just made me want him more, made me want that muscle strength on top of me again.

I let out a frustrated groan. He responded with another chuckle.

Fine. I could be mean, too.

I rose to my tiptoes and writhed my hips against him, shimmying until I felt his cock align perfectly between my cheeks. Noah moaned and bit my shoulder.

That seemed to have done the trick. He eased me forward, walking us toward the bed without releasing me from his embrace.

“Anything else I should know about before I screw you six ways to Sunday, princess?”

I knew he was really asking whether he needed to change the way he touched me.

Whether he needed to be more careful. I loved that he didn’t ask like that though.

He made it clear that he still had every intention of thoroughly fucking me.

“Don’t go gentle on me now, Young. I’m perfectly capable of letting you know if I’m uncomfortable with anything. Don’t hold back.”

“All right. Get in bed, down on your hands and knees.”

I narrowed my eyes at him as his grip loosened around my wrist. “Stop telling me what to do,” I hissed.

He heaved a sigh that was so perfectly raspy and grumpy that I couldn’t help but grin. “You’ll tell me if I hurt you?”

“Yes.” I rolled my eyes at him just to drive home the point that he was hovering. “And if my mouth is somehow otherwise occupied, I’ll flip you the middle finger, okay?”

He nodded and dipped his face to me. His lips skimmed over mine and my mouth readily fell open, but before I could close the kiss, he grabbed my waist and picked me off the floor.

Noah tossed me up like he’d done many times before.

This time, however, he let go. I was suspended in the air just long enough for panic to surge through my chest, only to land in the softest cloud of a duvet.

My heart still racing, I tried to rise on to all fours, but Noah’s weight came over on the back of my thighs, and his large hand pushed against the small of my back, holding me down.

“You look so fucking perfect in my bed,” he groaned, pushing the thick head of his cock into the narrow gap between my thighs, barely deep enough to find my entrance. “I think the only way you’d look better is covered in my cum.”

I moaned and buried my face in his sheets.

I grasped the fabric with both hands. No part of me had ever expected to be turned on by a man wanting to come all over me.

It seemed so lewd, almost degrading, but Noah was coaxing new cravings from me.

Whether he yanked my skirts up during our breaks in Ace Ryder’s hideout, fucked me in the mud, or tossed me into his bed, I liked being at the receiving end of this sexual desire.

It was freeing to let myself want his filthy words and all the indecent things he could do to me…

There was some of the aforementioned mind-blowing sex, but we spent more of the night talking than anything else.

Noah told me about working summers in the park when he was younger, and Renee offering him Ace Ryder after his dad passed and he couldn’t keep the ranch running.

I told him about my parents wanting me to go to Yale and how I couldn’t fathom spending any more time in lecture halls if it wasn’t medicine.

We kissed and touched and dozed and talked more, about Wild Fields, about Manhattan, about the logistics of running a therapy ranch, the strangest park guests we’d encountered and stars we could spot through the window once the clouds cleared up.