Page 50 of Before We Break

“Agreed. We need more girl time.” I burp and cover my mouth.

Callie starts laughing all over again, then spins me toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get another drink.”

I stumble up the last step, my knees colliding with the hard floor. “Ope. Shh.”

Did I just shush myself?

I must be more drunk than I realized.

I stand on legs that apparently no longer belong to me, fumbling in my pocket for the keys. I manage to find the lock and push into my apartment, closing the door behind me. I press my back to the wall and lean my head back against the surface, catching my breath.

The memory of Noah’s warm body behind me, his hand on my belly, deft fingers sinking beneath my skirt, sends a shiver down my spine, and goose bumps erupt along my arms. I can’t believe he just… disappeared like that… after what he did? What a dick.

I’m still hot and bothered. Maybe I should knock on his door and give him a piece of my mind.

Or my body.

Either would do.

Except I’m not interested in being rejected again, so I do the only logical thing I can. I strip out of my clothes in the entryway, then I stumble to my bedroom and collapse onto the bed. Once the ceiling stops spinning, I pull my bright red vibrator from the nightstand.

The Rodeo Vibe never lets me down.

Yeah, I named it after that one scene in Pretty Woman, sue me.

A steady buzzing sound fills the room as I press the tip of the vibrator against my clit. I’m still wet from Noah’s teasing, and if Callie hadn’t pulled me away, I’m positive I would’ve let him do unspeakable things to me.

My thoughts stray to his capable hands, envisioning them sliding lower, confirming what we both already knew—I was wet and needy for him.

I slide the vibrator down to my entrance, letting it slip inside slowly.

What would it be like to let Noah Weston touch me? To have those inked hands all over my body? Inside of me?

“Oh god,” I whine. “Oh, fuck.”

I press the button to turn on the clit teaser, driving the shaft farther inside. My back arches off the bed as the dueling sensations rocket through me, sending a spike of pleasure shooting up my spine. I’m already teetering on the edge of my first orgasm.

I bring my free hand to my left breast and toy with my nipple as the memory of Noah’s mouth on my neck fills my vision.

It never takes me long to get there, but sometimes I like to draw it out. Edge myself until I can’t take it anymore. Not tonight, though. Noah did enough of that earlier.

I fuck myself harder, steadier, until I’m right there. Then I hold still, letting the clit teaser finish me off.

My toes curl into the comforter, and my stomach hollows as the orgasm consumes me, stars bursting behind my eyelids. As I cry out in pleasure, I start to move again, drawing out the orgasm until the shockwaves subside.

When I pull it out, the vibrator accidentally falls to the floor with a thud. I wince, but I can’t move. Too tired to do anything but lie there with my eyes closed.

The minutes stretch on, and as I start to drift off to sleep, I hear someone call my name through the walls.

No. Not someone. Noah.

It’s a desperate sound like a plea—like a man deep in the throes of ecstasy, and that can only mean one thing—he wants me just as much as I want him.

NOAH

It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning when I quietly let myself into the apartment. I drove around for over an hour, trying and failing to clear my head.

The low light of the television flickers across Emma’s sleeping form on the couch, and I lay a blanket over her legs but leave the TV on. She always slept better with background noise.