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My mouth opens, but nothing comes out, and Noah reaches over, guiding my hair behind my ear.
His hand lingers there a moment, his eyes still on mine. “You’ll lead us?”
The pit of my stomach lets itself known, his words weighing as I believe he intended, the double innuendo loud and clear.
He needs me to lead the way.
To the farm… and more.
“Lies.” Noah dashes forward, tickling my stomach as I spin, evading his hands.
“I saw the terror in your eyes!” We duck under the chain aisle, dashing for the gate before the ride attendant closes it. “You, Noah Riley, got scared by a ten-year-old.”
“A ten-year-old in a dress from a hundred years ago, blood on her face and a gash across her eye… who jumped out of nowhere.”
“Yes, let’s not forget all that,” I tease, hopping up into the last cart for the corn maze ride.
Noah slips beside me, throwing his arm over the back of the cool metal. “How about we talk about how you saw my eyes, Juliet.”
We jolt as the tractor driving the carts takes off, quickly facing each other once more.
“Go on.”
He raises a dark brow. “Someone was too afraid to look around every corner of the haunted house she was so excited about.”
“And someone else was more than willing to do it for me.”
“Damn straight.”
My toes bend in my shoes and I lift my chin in triumph. “See, you wanted to be the tough guy who went first.”
Noah’s tongue rolls over his bottom lip, and he nods. “Yeah, I did.”
“There’s just… one problem with that.”
He watches me closely. “And what’s that?”
My pulse hammers against my neck, and then I whip around, jumping off the side and disappearing into the stalks of corn.
“What— Ari!” Noah shouts, and then his feet pound behind me.
I dash left, and then right, and then his large hands are wrapping around my biceps and I’m twisted around.
I gasp, looking up into his blue eyes with a smile.
They narrow, smooth, and then his grip tightens.
I swallow, my chest heaving as I reach up, gliding my hands along his pecs.
“You asked me to lead.”
His frown is instant, and he pushes closer, giving the subtlest shake of his head.
My skin flushes instantly, but I refuse to look away.
His blue eyes pierce mine, reaching way past the surface and into my mind. It’s as if he’s seeing every part of me. It’s unnerving, yet thrilling.
It’s Noah.
I roam his every feature, from his liquid eyes to the growing stubble around his jaw and chin, a perfect five o’clock shadow. So manly, yet so soft. I reach out, the sharpness of the short hairs creating knots within my stomach. I peek up at him, but I didn’t have to, to know his would be on me. They are.
They always are.
I trace his jaw, gliding my thumb along his chin, and then with shaky fingers, I trace his lips. I start with the bottom, following the curve with precision, and as I meet the corner, his heated breath breaks across my skin, my body shivering before him. For him.
Because of him.
I slide closer.
Noah doesn’t move.
My hand moves lower, and I swallow as he does when my touch glides along his throat, to his neck and down, until I’m gripping the soft fabric of his cotton shirt. I pull him closer.
He moves willingly, but he doesn’t push.
He waits.
As I lift to my toes, bringing my lips an inch away from his, a storm rages within his eyes, and they become the midnight blue I’ve come to love.
He doesn’t crush his mouth into mine like I thought he might, doesn’t press his mouth to mine at all. Noah stares.
He notes the flush of my cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of my chest, and the part of my eager lips, right here waiting for his.
Slowly, with the patience of a saint, he leans in, allowing his to float across my own. The sensation causes me to jump, and the corner of Noah’s mouth lifts into a gorgeous, almost cocky, flawless grin.
My core tightens.
In the next second, he kisses me without kissing me, his lips pushing into mine with a pressurized softness I can’t quite explain. It’s heavy, weighted, while still managing a careful restraint, as if he’s allowing me to be sure.
To change my mind.
To pull away.
I won’t.
“You remember what I said to you?” he murmurs, the heat of his breath doing far more than it should. “One-time thing, Juliet.”
He won’t deny me again…
I don’t want him to.
So, I lead.
I press against him, and that was all he needed.
His hands fly to my face, gripping me, hauling me closer, taking over with a thorough, drugging kiss.
My arms fly around his neck, diving into his hair as his disappear into mine. One drops to my lower back, slipping beneath the hem of my shirt. His fingertips bite into my skin, and I moan into his mouth. His tongue dives inside, swooping and learning the taste of me, coaxing my own to dance with his. I give him what he wants and when he bites at my lip, I whimper.
