Finally, his shoulders slump. He reaches up, fingers brushing my jaw like he did to me earlier tonight whenhewas inmymouth. “Okay,” he whispers. “No more running. I’m… I’m in this. With you. I’m here.”
Relief rushes through me, followed by a fresh wave of heat. I lean down and kiss him, sealing the promise. His hands slide up my chest, pulling me closer.
“It’s still early. Let’s go out. Let’s have a meal. Let’s talk.” I kiss him. “For real this time.”
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
CADE
“Us…go out? Together? At this hour?”Anyone who sees us will know we’re spending the night together. I don’t voice that worry, but I hold it near.
Truthfully, I like him here, I like being with him even when I’m being called on my shit. The scent of his skin floods my senses as brown eyes peer down at me.
“You know you want me,” he says, voice low and rough. “And you know I want you. Quit running, Cade.”
Before I can formulate a response, he swings one leg over and straddles me right there in the office chair. The chair creaks under our combined weight. His thighs bracket mine, heavy and solid, and suddenly his cock—already half-hard beneath the thin fabric of his sweats—is pressed intimately against my stomach. I suck in a sharp breath.
“Noah—” My hands come up automatically, landing on his chest, fingers curling against his skin, feeling the steady thump of his heart.
He leans in until our foreheads nearly touch. “Say it. Tell me you want us.”
I shake my head, even as my body betrays me and my hips twitch upward. “You don’t want me,” I whisper. The words taste bitter because of the way my truth echoes so loudly inside them. “You’re just… bored. Until the next hot student or colleague or whoever catches your eye. I’m your safe, repressed experiment.”
Noah goes very still. Then he climbs off me so abruptly the chair rolls backward. He stands there, chest rising and falling, staring at me like I slapped him. Like I burned his favorite special edition, like I just sullied the literary canon.
“That’s fucked up, man.” His voice cracks and genuine hurt stretches over his normally impassive face. “That’s really fucked up.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Shame colors my cheeks. I’ve never seen Noah look like this.Wounded.
He drags a hand through his hair. “You think I’ve been chasing you for months because I’m bored? Jesus, Cade.” He starts pacing the small office, voice gaining intensity. “I asked you out in September. Remember? I said we should grab coffee after that faculty meeting. You thought I was being polite and talked about syllabus deadlines instead. I asked you again in October—Thai food, my treat. You said you had papers to grade. November, I brought you that expensive coffee from Rise & Grind that you like everymorning for two straight weeks just to see if you’d mention the place and maybe invite me there. I struck up conversations about your favorite poets, your dad being inNew York Magazine, the way you hum when you’re deep in thought. I’ve been right here, Cade. For months. Longer, even, and you never saw it.”
Each example lands like a stone in my stomach. I remember all of them. I’d dismissed every one as professional courtesy or simple friendliness. Or just chalked it up to Noah Ryan, the friendliest, coolest fucking guy ever. My throat tightens.
Noah stops pacing. He sighs, long and heavy, the fight draining out of him. Then he steps close again, gentler this time. His hands come up to cradle my face, thumbs stroking along my cheekbones. His palms are warm, slightly rough. I lean into them before I can stop myself.
“You’ve been oblivious to relationships,” he says softly, eyes searching mine. “ButIhaven’t been oblivious toyou. Not for one damn second. I see the way you get flustered when I roll up my sleeves. I see how hard you work to do everything right. I see you, Cade Mercer.” He presses a soft kiss to the center of my forehead that eases so much stress away, I can’t believe it. “The real you. And I want every anxious, brilliant, newly-awoken piece of you.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I blink them back fiercely. “I’m scared,” I admit, voice barely above a whisper. “What if I can’t keep up with you? What if this ruins our careers or you get tired of teaching me everything?—”
He cuts me off with a kiss.
It’s not soft. It’s hungry and desperate and full of all the frustration and longing we’ve both been carrying. His mouth claims mine, tongue sliding deep, and I moan into it like a man starving. The chair creaks again as I pull him closer, hands roaming over his back, nails digging in just enough to make him groan.
Noah tastes like mint toothpaste and raw need. He kisses me like he’s trying to erase every doubt I’ve ever had. One of his hands slides into my hair, gripping tight, while the other palm slides against my bare skin, over my chest. I arch into him, gasping when his thumb finds my nipple and circles it slowly. I like that, which he’s shown me.
“Feel that?” he murmurs against my lips, grinding down against my lap so I can feel how hard he is. “That’s what you do to me. Every single day.”
I whimper, hips rolling up to meet his. The friction through our thin pants is maddening. My cock strains painfully against the fabric, leaking already. I’ve never been this desperate, this alive.
“Please,” I breathe. I don’t even know what I’m begging for.
Noah kisses me again, slower this time, savoring as he sinks into the seat over me. He rocks against me in a lazy rhythm that has me trembling. His mouth moves to my jaw, then my throat over my freckle, sucking lightly at the sensitive spot beneath my ear until I’m panting.
“I want to take you apart,” he whispers. “I want toshow you how good it can be. No rush. No pressure. Just us.”
I nod frantically, fingers digging into his shoulders. The push and pull inside me is grueling and quite frankly, exhausting. Not to mention the fear versus the overwhelming want. I could scream.
