Page 17 of Relapse

Noah was only a few paces away, still close to the car, when he turned back towards me.

Maybe it was what he said that set me off. The comment about not “deserving” me. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. How strange that he said those words, when I felt the same way.

I didn’t deserve him. His courage. Kindness. His ability to help others.

When I looked at Noah, I saw a hero. I saw selflessness. I felt pulled to him.

Yet here he was, again, stripping away his own worth in a simple phrase. Diminishing himself and the beautiful person he was.

I wouldn’t allow it.

His eyes widened with confusion as he tried to make sense of why I’d gotten back out of the car. He tilted his head slightly, questioning, “Delane?”

And then my mind made the decision for me. Loudly.

Fuck it.

I cut across the space between us, my hand reaching forward to grab the back of his neck, pulling him into me. My nerves were in pieces, but everything disappeared the moment he leaned forward into my touch, meeting me halfway. His lips willingly found mine as we collided.

The reality of this kiss was quieter than I’d imagined. Softer. He kissed me tenderly, as if testing the waters, trying to see if this was real. His arms found my waist and his head turned slightly, lips moving back into mine another time. It felt so natural to me. So long overdue, that I nearly sighed with relief to feel his reciprocation.

When he finally pulled back to look at me, the air around us tightened with tension. His eyes were darker than I’d ever known them to be, so dark that the pupils seemed to sink into the rich brown.

My fingers shot to my mouth, gently touching where the sensation of his lips lingered. My body was still in shock. I actually did it. I fucking kissed Noah Hansen.

“I’m not sorry.” The words tumbled out recklessly.

Instantly, my mind threw me back into the dark room of denial and self doubt. Imposter, it taunted. What did I just do?

“Delane,” he said, a low rumble this time, not quite a whisper, but something a bit deeper, edged with a craving he hadn’t voiced before now. I recognized it, because I felt it too.

More. I wanted more.

That craving was gnawing at me, and I couldn’t get a grasp on or stop it. I wanted to submerge myself in this feeling for Noah. I was done with hesitation. Done with fear and allowing my insecurities to govern me.

My right hand curled behind his head, weaving through his hair.

“Tell me you haven’t wanted to,” I breathed. I didn’t recognize the certainty in my own voice, but I wasn’t in control anymore. I had given over completely to my urges.

His eyes searched mine. For what, I wasn’t too sure. They seemed to look straight through my heart, into the hidden spot where my deepest desires were clamped shut with a lock box and key.

All of my secrets resided there. And so did the need for him.

My mouth nearly whimpered out, “I know you feel this, too.”

Without another word, Noah’s hands guided me swiftly back against the back of his car, pinning me there. My gasp made perfect access for him to claim a kiss once again. His tongue teased the corners of my lips and I willingly submitted, opening for him.

His tongue pressed in further and I moaned, unable to control how my body responded to his touch. This was rough, unrestrained—everything that I thought kissing him would be. One of his hands pressed into the small of my back, forcing me flush against his body while the other clutched the back of my neck tightly, angling my head upwards to deepen the kiss.

A sound of paper tearing barely registered in my mind as the hospital gown gave way from the pressure of his fingers sinking into my sides, pulling me even closer.

I didn’t care. I continued to kiss him, unwilling to break this connection that I had sought out for so long.

His mouth broke away from mine, and my whimper of displeasure was swiftly replaced with a ragged sound escaping my throat as he journeyed a trail of kisses down my neck to my collarbone. His lips and tongue, wicked probes that they were, teased the sensitive flesh in ways I’d never experienced before, coaxing shivers from my very core. My back arched instinctually, a silent plea for more of his closeness.

Noah groaned, shifting his weight and anchoring his hips forward. His pants did next to nothing to disguise his hard-on, now pressing stiffly into me through my flimsy, deteriorating clothing. My breath hitched. Something inside me ached to know all of him. The dark corners of my mind swam with a lust that continued to bait me with the idea of what Noah would feel like buried inside of me.

My reason had abandoned me. My hand descended downward, trailing along his shirt until they stopped at the smooth leather of his belt.