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“No.”
“Do I make you feel wanted? Do you feel as sexy as I think you are when I’m with you? Do you enjoy what I do to you, baby?”
“Yes,” he whispers.
“So, why do you push me away and think you’re not safe with me when you have nothing to give as an example?”
“I-I don’t know. I’m sorry, Noah. I’m just confused.”
I pull him into a bear hug and allow him a moment to acknowledge that I’m the one that’s here and I’m the one who will stand by him.
“Don’t apologize. Just remember it’s Wade that did all that. Not me. I’m here for you, baby.”
Chase pulls back and strokes the side of my face. I’ve never had a gentle touch like this before and I kinda like it. My words have taken a hold of him as he smiles at me. That’s what I want to see. My man smiling for me. Only me.
“Now give me a goodbye kiss.”
“But, what about your session?”
“I think what we’re doing is more important. Kiss. Now.”
We lean in at the same time and kiss like our lives depend on it. I steal every moan, every tremor of his body as he completely unfolds to me. As I pull back, we rest our foreheads together for a few minutes to regain some composure. I move away so he can get to his feet and straighten his clothes. Chase doesn’t look at me or say anything, which is fine.
“I’m coming for you tonight. Be ready.”
On that final note, I leave him standing there as I leave his office.
CHAPTER 22
CHASE
The drive home passes in a blur as my head is stuffed full of all things Noah. As I let myself into my home and throw my keys on the entrance table, Noah’s final words from our earlier meeting run on a loop in my head.
I’m coming for you tonight. Be ready.
That one sentence has been playing on my mind all afternoon. What does it mean?
Is he coming to my house? Of course he must be, where else would I be? How the hell does he know where I live?
My gut is telling me to pack my bags and leave this town, especially with all the bad signs of Noah’s personality, slowly revealing itself like a bandage covering a wound that you want to look away from as it starts to get exposed.
But my head and my heart? After that kiss in my office today, it’s safe to say I’m totally fucked. The way he reassured me, told me the words I needed to hear. It wasn’t what I was expecting from him, but fuck did I drink it up. Noah made me feel better about myself, that I’m wanted. Desired. For those few moments of letting go I felt free, like nothing could touch me, or touch us. Instinctively today he knew what I needed and was there.
After the appalling encounter with Wade, I was starting to deflate like I was about to hit rock bottom. But then, Noah appears. He’s like my dark angel, bringing me out of the depths of despair and making me feel the most alive I’ve ever felt.
Noah was right, he hasn’t done anything to me that would indicate I’m in danger from him. He isn’t Wade or my parents. I need to stop projecting my life onto him. I’m a grown man making my own decisions. Noah isn’t forcing me.
When he kissed me, it was like being revived from the dead. It's like nothing else around me exists in his presence. It's terrifying. I know Noah doesn’t feel or act like the average person. I’ve seen it enough in our few encounters. There’s a tiny part of me that’s worried, but there’s also an undercurrent of excitement and the feeling of it being right.
I grab my phone to look at the time. I start to obsess over every second and every minute that passes. Overanalyzing is a trait of mine that's become more evident since meeting Noah. I’ve no idea what is about to happen, he holds all the cards and I’m the clueless dumbass, sitting here waiting for his instruction.
The time is now ten pm. My legs start to spasm as I sit on the edge of my bed in my sweatpants and tee. I stand up again and start moving. My body just won’t settle. I’m on edge like I’ve just downed five cans of energy drinks with nowhere to release this build up of nervousness.
Another look at the clock. One minute past ten. Fuck this. Watching the damn clock isn’t helping me, it's making it worse. Every minute drags on for what feels like an hour.
Deciding to go downstairs, I rush down the steps with enthusiasm like a child on Christmas morning, trying to distract my busy brain. I loiter at the bay window, hoping to maybe see Noah approaching, but I see nothing. My thoughts briefly think about the intruder who invaded my home. Is he still out there? Or is it really Wade trying to screw with my head?
This is getting me nowhere, this constant overanalyzing, even though I’m good at it. I turn and look around my living room with only the hum of the refrigerator in the open plan space keeping me company. He isn’t coming. Perhaps this was all one big tease, kick a guy when he’s down. Psychopaths get bored easily, maybe I was just a game to pass the time.
