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But the way he was in the bedroom amplified that by a million. His eyes were steelier, his voice grittier, and his hand worked over me like he was some new job that he had to perfect.
“Why are you smiling?”
Noah’s voice cut through my mounting heat, and I could barely get my eyes opened. “Huh?”
“You’re smiling.”
“I am?” I felt it then and said, “I guess I am.”
“I like seeing it,” he said, moving around me to face me again.
“How’d you see it?”
“It was that big, Eli. I saw it from the side. Does me good to see you happy.”
“You make me happy, Noah.”
He took my face in both hands and looked deep into my eyes. “We’re gonna fight, we’re gonna get mad at each other sometimes. I won’t be able to keep that smile on your face all the time.”
“I know, Noah. I get that. I’m not running off; I swear it to you.”
“I’m maybe a little insecure in some areas, but that doesn’t mean I don’t trust you. I know you’re not just gonna up and run, but I never want to be the cause of you losing that smile. Ever.”
I wrapped him in my arms, feeling his soft, well-worn flannel shirt on my bare skin. It was safe in his arms. If he worried that much about me being unhappy, I knew he’d work hard to keep that from happening. He worked hard at everything. “Let’s enjoy every second we’re both happy, and after our first fight, we’ll have that good hate sex.”
He laughed and squeezed me. “I like hate sex. It’s gonna be fun with you. Let’s fight now.”
The thing was that was maybe my favorite part of that night. We fucked like rabbits three times before we finally went to sleep. I didn’t know it before that, but Noah was a fucking machine in bed. Even for a guy of fifty, he could pop wood fifteen minutes after he came.
As much as that was great, though, him holding me, and our shared laughter, that was the best part of the night. We could be in the middle of passion, and laughter could come, making it better, sweeter.
I lay my head on his shoulder while his arm wrapped around my neck that night, and he ordered me to move into his room. No, scratch that. He ordered me intoourroom.
I fell asleep that night thinking of that. Our room.
Chapter Twelve
Thesorenessscreamedatme that morning, and I could barely get out of bed. I groaned and accused Noah of trying to fuck me to death, and all the older man did was laugh at me and tell me to get up and get moving.
He was already dressed, and I smelled the coffee, meaning he’d already started it. “How long have you been up?”
“An hour, give or take. We need to get moving on the chores, then get to the city.”
“The city?”
He scowled and informed me, “Fucking Chase says he can’t drive all this way to take one meeting. I’d do remote, but I think it would be better for the first time to meet in person. Maybe it’ll be the last one. We can hope.”
“I’m doubting it,” I said, then somehow got out of bed, though all my muscles were not happy with me.
“Look at you. What the hell you gonna do once I start beating your ass and fucking you with dildos the size of my arm?”
My head spun to the door as he walked through it and I called to him, “Excuse me?”
All I got was laughter as a response.
I got in a hot shower, taking as little time as I could while getting my body back in working order. When I emerged, my man was right there with a steaming cup of coffee for me. “Nice bruises,” he said, looking at my thighs.
I noticed them in the shower, and they’d given me a grin, but to see his delight in them, that gave me a peek into our future. “You like marking me, huh?”
