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“You’re going to make me embarrass myself if you keep grinding against my cock,” he mumbles before returning his attention to my neck. His lips move toward my chest. A new task.
My cheeks heat at his disclosure. But it feels great to make him desire me because this man makes me feel a whole lot of things. The good, the bad, and the absolute dirtiest.
“Don’t get shy on me now. Fuck that.” His lips meet mine again, this time with a soft and intimate kiss. I find myself unprepared for any of these feelings, Noah overwhelming me. Kissing him feels like so much more.
I regain consciousness and place both of my hands on his chest, pushing him softly. He gets the hint and lifts off me.
“Ah, your brain caught up to you. It was fun while it lasted.” He rubs a thumb against my swollen lips.
“I don’t do this type of thing.” My hands gesture between the two of us.
“And what is that?” He inches closer again. I hold up a hand, making him pause. His lips distract me and make me want to kiss them again. But I need to get this out before it’s too late.
“This. I don’t do casual. Random hookups.” Hell no. Not after kisses that set me on fire and make my brain numb.
He abandons his seductive mood. His grimace makes me second-guess my reasoning, and for a brief moment, I’m afraid about making the wrong decision. I may be irresponsible with other things, but I need to lock my heart up around someone like him. Stay true to my values.
Noah is the type to unwillingly chip off pieces of my armor until I have nothing left. If his kisses make me mindless, I can’t imagine what other things with him will do to me. No one told me how much it sucks to be responsible and honest.
“Why not? We can call it quits when the season’s over. No harm done.”
I seriously doubt that because I can tell from a couple of kisses that’s not the case. It hurts to hear him be cavalier about it, but it’s not unexpected from someone like him.
His reaction gives me more strength about my decision.
“Uh. I don’t think that’s true. At least for me. I don’t want to catch feelings for someone who isn’t looking for a relationship. I’m not that type of girl, a no-strings-attached person.” I clasp my hands on my lap, preventing any fidgeting. I’ve only had a handful of exclusive boyfriends in my life.
“Feelings?” His voice gives away his aversion to the idea.
Note to self: he’s not a fan of that F word.
“Yes, feelings. People like you leave a trail of broken hearts behind. I don’t want to be one of them, another notch in your damaged bedpost.”
“I’m not looking for a girlfriend. I have a crazy schedule and racing is my life, so I can’t promise you anything but something sexual. And that we’ll have the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. I can tell by our connection.”
My exact worry. Looking at him weakens my resolve, but I need to stay strong.
“I’m the type who needs more than a physical relationship with someone. I’m not the booze-and-banging type you usually hang around with. I can’t change who I am to be what you want.”
“You’re really going to deny yourself this?” His reaction shows me how no one denies him. Evidence of his messed-up childhood, the ultimate only-child syndrome shining through. He trails a finger down my neck toward my chest. I gasp at the scorching sensation his finger leaves behind, unhappy how my body becomes aware of his touch instantaneously. It’s a shame to deny what my body craves.
“Yes.” My panting voice doesn’t exude the firmness I need it to. I swat his hands away, ending his spell.
“We can stay friends. Not the benefits kind though, but I’ll avoid you less.” I nod, convincing myself that this is the right decision. My honesty about avoiding him feels like progress.
“Right.” His blank expression fills me with dread. Am I making the right decision?
Our dinner went well. Comfortable and easy, something that feels like it can be much more than a casual fling. But people like him don’t fall in love. I don’t need to open myself up to potential misery with someone from Bandini.
Noah gets up and reaches out for my hand. My skin warms at his touch. Yup. I absolutely made the right choice because this is a one-way ticket to heartache. We walk through the sand toward his motorbike. I look back at the picnic area, my heart tightening at the abandoned sight of it. Despite the less than ideal ending, this was one of the best dates I’ve ever been on and I’ll always remember it.
I put on the helmet and his jacket without a fight, a chill running through me at this ending. The smell of him is intoxicating and unfair like it’s wrong to breathe in.
Noah stays quiet as he gets on the bike, his mind drifting off to somewhere else, erecting a wall between us. I don’t give him a hard time getting on. He starts up the engine, and we take off back toward the hotel. The ride feels shorter as if Noah’s desperate to get us back. I don’t take it personally.
He drops me off in the parking garage shortly after, pulling the motorbike up to the elevator like a gentleman.
“If it were another life, I’d probably do right by you. I’d take you on dates and try harder. But that’s not who I am or how I was raised. I don’t know how to be the kind of emotional guy you desire.”
