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“S-stop, Noah. I can’t do this right now, and I have to get to work,” I say on a moan when he rubs his ringed finger over my nipple, catching the hard silver over my nub, leaving a twinge of pain. I struggle to push him off me, but I want to pull him closer. The good and the bad resting on my shoulders, arguing which side of me will win.
“Don’t run from me, Chase. Remember who you belong to now,” he whispers into my ear before removing his body from mine and walking away from the bed. I want to beg for him to come back. The weight of his body makes me feel warm and whole, but now I feel empty and cold.
“I could tell the police,” I say. I’ve no idea why I’ve just threatened him. Maybe it's to feel more in control. Maybe it’s because the rational part of me knows this is fucking wrong on all levels. I can’t condone what he’s done. Not only is he crazy, but he’s also, by definition, a criminal. For a second, I expect an angry response, but he shocks me with a loud laugh that nearly deafens me.
“You won’t tell anyone, Chase. You couldn’t cope with the guilt. You’d lose your job, and your friends and family would never speak to you again. It would destroy you,” hesays confidently, now fully dressed and looking hotter than he should.
My muscles grow tense and I clench my fists, he’s trapped me, and I hate him for how arrogant he is, thinking he knows me better than I do. I jump out of the bed, ignoring my nakedness, and get up in his face, pushing my finger into his hard chest.
“I’m not scared of you, Noah. It's the right thing to do. I’m a good person, dammit!” I yell, pushing at his solid pecs that don’t move. I want to hit him, shout at him for screwing up my head, but a huge part of me wants him to hold me in his arms and never let go. I fight against him as he pulls me close to him, but I lose all conviction as he glides his hands down my back before landing on my ass, gently squeezing my cheeks. I close my eyes, trying to stave off the enjoyment it gives me.
“You should be scared of me, baby. I will do anything to keep you, even burn your entire life. Stop pretending you don’t want this. I’ll give you the world, Chase. You’ll never be on your own again. You’ll never doubt my devotion to you. I would never leave you like the others have. I’ll be your one constant.”
Who the hell have I let into my bed? I know nothing of how far Noah would go, it’s disturbing. This man has forced himself into my life, and I’ve not only allowed it, but I’ve also potentially put everyone I love in harm’s way. I’m scared. Scared of what he may do. But this other foreign part of me clings to him. Convincing myself it could all work out. But it can’t. None of this is fucking fine.
“Don’t threaten me, Noah. You hurt anyone I care about and there is no you and me.”
“I’m not threatening you, baby. I’m just saying how it is. How much I want you. How much I would risk for us. I’m not great with words, Chase. I’m really trying.”
The sincerity of what he says hits me so hard it throws me for a loop. Is he lying right now? Trying to manipulate me withwords? Or is this his way of feeling? Is this what his version of caring is? I’m not dumb. I doubt Noah feels love like others, but these kinds of emotions he’s portraying are worse. He’s a tornado that has picked me up in the carnage. Therapist me knows this is dangerous, it would be nearly impossible to break his obsession and craving for me. I could run. But where to? And do I really want to? I’m so damn confused at the two different thoughts swirling in my mind. Also, it's not helping that he is still kneading my ass.
Before I have a chance to say what I’m thinking, Noah breaks the moment with a hard slap to my left butt cheek, followed by a brutal last kiss as he leaves without another word, while I stand here hard as a rock and bemused.
Work has been busy today,and I’m glad of it. This morning, we had a staff meeting with some updated procedures that we needed to go over, and I had two patients straight after. I’m free this afternoon to catch up on all the admin stuff that I’ve let pile up. Mainly patient notes that need reviewing. But before I tackle that task, I need some air. Leaving my oppressive office, I go get myself a coffee.
It's a little milder today as we approach spring, but it’s still cold enough that you need a jacket. I gulp the crisp air into my lungs, try to clear my mind, and let the world absorb my problems, at least for the next hour.
Entering the coffee shop, I wait in line and scan the baked items on the counter. My eyes land on the blueberry muffins and I have flashbacks of being with Noah in this very shop with said muffin assaulting me. They’ll never be the same again, andI’m not sure if that's a good thing or not. But I’m considering getting one just to relive that hot as fuck encounter, which says everything about how I feel.
Noah was right earlier, I won’t tell anyone what he’s done. I have too much to lose. But that's not the only reason. Although this is not a conventional joining of a couple, the thought of losing his interest and not ever being in a room with him again hurts more than thinking of the bad things he’s done. He’s clever, and I suspect he’s managed to brainwash me along the way, but he just sounds so damn convincing. That's not even including the incredible sex we had. My ass clenches then throbs, still sore from last night. It's a feeling I don’t want to lose. It’s like he’s still with me, that I’m not alone.
Large ringed hands grab around my waist, along with a strong smell of leather, cigarettes, and sandalwood, eroding the coffee aroma in the shop. Momentarily, I stop breathing before he talks into my ear, sending a ripple of goosebumps down my neck.
“Having happy memories, baby? Can we get a few muffins for later for me to eat off that hot little body of yours?” he says, sounding like all the bad decisions. Gently, he nips under my ear.
Looking up, I see the barista staring at us, wide-eyed at the display. I hadn’t noticed I was next in line and I’m pretty sure I’ll never be able to show my face here again without blushing.
“What can I get you both?” the barista asks, and she smiles with a knowing glint in her eyes. I bet she can tell he fucked me last night.Oh shut the hell up, no she can’t. Before I get a chance to order, Noah does it for us, which makes me both giddy and annoyed at the same time. I can order my own drink.
“Two vanilla lattes and a blueberry muffin,” he says, and goes back to kissing behind my ear. I know people are watching. I can see them in the reflection of the mirror behind the counter. Noahreally does not give a fuck or possess any social decency. My dick doesn’t seem to mind, though.
“Noah, people are staring,” I hiss at him, trying to pull away. But it just encourages him to grind his hard length against my ass. Looking at us in the mirror, we are so startlingly different that I could laugh, but fuck do we make a hot image. The bad boy claiming the good guy. So damn predictable.
The only response I get is his signature shrug. I give up. What's the point? If I’m honest with myself, this is quite nice. Wade was never big on the PDA, not even to hold hands. This is the other extreme, where I’m sure Noah would fuck me right here while we wait for our orders, but I like that. He has no issue showing me how much he wants me, even if it’s overwhelming at times.
As I’m lost in thoughts of Noah, I fail to see him pay for our items, before he links our hands and drags me back to the same table this dalliance started at. I like how he leads me and takes control. I just don’t like being stalked and having everyone in my life threatened because of his jealousy.
We sit down at the table. This time, Noah is facing me, and I don’t hide myself from him. Fuck him for being so hot. His unblinking stare would scare the shit out of most people, but I’m coming to love it. It's like his eyes act as a scanner, searching for information, memorizing everything about me.
“You followed me, didn’t you?” I ask, surprised at how calm I am about this.
“Yes, I needed to see you,” he says, and takes a long sip of his drink. I watch his throat bob as he swallows. Images of last night's steamy fuck session plays like a movie. From the twinkle in his eyes, he knows what I’m thinking.
“You know this is crazy, right? That stalking me, breaking into my home and taking what you want would be considered insane?”
I rest my elbows on the table and push my face into my hands, with no idea what I’m doing. Saying the words out loud makes how mad this is more real. Anxiety starts to build at all the bad things that could evolve from our relationship or whatever this fucked up situation is called. My chest tightens as my palms start to sweat.
A large hand grabs around the back of my neck, squeezing in a comforting move that has me relaxing instantly, becoming more present.
