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NOAH
So, this is what it feels like to be crushing.
Thinking about her all day and night.
When some song comes on the radio, it reminds me of her. And I don’t enjoy romantic songs. Yet, for some twisted reason, I switch to radio stations with ballads on repeat. Somewhere in this universe, my balls have gone missing.
Every moment she has spare, I beg her to meet me. It’s mainly lunches or a quick coffee, and at night, she’s always tied down with Scarlett. Both our schedules are hectic, mine occupied with back-to-back meetings. And being that we’re still in public, my hands have to remain to myself, much to my disappointment.
She made it clear during our second lunch that due to the tabloids, we need to appear civilized because the last thing Scarlett needs is her assistant caught having sex in a parking lot.
And so, since that day, I haven’t touched her, not even a kiss.
Karma, delightfully, has pulled its reins and started a vendetta against me.
To point out and make myself sound completely undesirable, it’s been four days since I mauled her in the parking lot.
On Thursday, she flew to San Francisco to meet with magazine officials who are doing a four-page spread on Scarlett. With the meeting running late, she missed her flight home and is forced to stay an extra night at the hotel.
It’s late when she calls, her name appearing on my screen as I climb into bed.
“Are you calling me for phone sex? Because if you are, I charge a dollar a minute,” I answer, grinning.
“Sounds cheap,” she teases. “A man like yourself could surely fetch more.”
“Maybe,” I say, unable to hide my smile. “You’re alone in a hotel, can’t help yourself?”
“I already did that. Now I’m flicking through the movie channel trying to find something to watch.”
I cough, a tickle caught in my throat as I almost choke on her words. How does she manage to do this to me all the time? A buzz distracts me. Pulling my cell away from my ear, I see a text from Kate.
Kate: My doorman asked me out on a date. I said I was seeing someone and now it’s awkward every time I walk past him. HELP ME.
Shaking my head with a smile, I bring my phone back to my ear to focus back on Morgan.
“You okay there, soldier? You seem to be at a loss for words.” I can hear the smile in her voice—the little tease knows how to rile me up.
“You’re one of two things right now… a terrible liar or the biggest cock tease ever to walk this earth.”
“I guess you’ll never know…”
I shake my head, laughing. “Then I suggest settling for the porn channel. If you’re lying, that should get you started.”
“R-rated porn is not my style,” she says simply.
“R-rated porn is not your style?” I repeat. “What porn is your style, may I ask?”
“A lady never tells,” she taunts. “But you, you’re easy to peg. I’d say you’re into anal. Fisting is probably too much for you.”
This time, I’m rendered speechless. There’s only one guy I know who isn’t into anal—Tom. He tried it once, freaked out, which, in turn, made the girl freak out, and he never tried it again. As for the fisting, she’s right. Something about having an arm up someone’s pussy seems a bit too much. Keep it tight—that’s my motto.
“It appears the cat got your tongue, Noah?”
My fucking dick is raging like fire, stiff as a board underneath my boxers. What’s this woman doing to me? She’s killing you, little by little.
“Your pussy needs my tongue,” I harden my tone. “God, what are you doing to me?”
“The same thing you’re doing to me, Noah Mason.” It follows with silence, shallow breaths echoing through the speaker.
