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I’m done.
I pull out quickly, releasing all over her thigh while my body jerks forward in utter delight. Breathing heavily into her neck, my vision is blindsided seeing only stars, moons, and fucking fireworks.
What did she just do to me?
Grazing my thumb across her thigh, I take what’s mine because I’m greedy and want her to taste me. She lifts her head and studies the way I move my thumb upward and gently slide it across her bottom lip. Her lips remain parted, tiny breaths barely escaping as her eyes, wide and full of desperation, begging me to give her more.
“Just a taste of what’s to come,” I murmur, my mouth hovering over hers.
She smiles wickedly, running her tongue across her bottom lip. “I’ve got quite an appetite.”
“You need to go,” I tell her with discontent. “But don’t for one second think this is over. I’ll be here, waiting, as soon as you’re done.”
She runs her hands down my arms, gripping onto my biceps as she frees her legs. Even now, after all is done, her simple touch is melting away at me. Her legs shake while she tries to maintain her balance, latching onto me again for support.
I reach down and pull my pants up, leaving my belt unbuckled. After all, I expect her back here as soon as her meeting is over. Then, the real fun will begin.
She makes a dash to the bathroom to grab some tissues. After cleaning herself up, she straightens her dress and fixes her hair. I walk to where she’s standing and position myself behind her back. Our images reflect in the mirror, and as if my heart has completely fallen out of my chest, I know only one thing.
This feels right.
She breaks my gaze and latches onto the door handle. I reach out for her arm, pulling her into me one more time.
“Are we okay?”
The silence falls between us, worrying me that something’s wrong. As the panic begins to build, she traces the bottom of my jaw. Her lips, swollen and pouty, curve upward into a dreamy smile.
“Noah,” she asserts, rolling her tongue, seducing me with only the call of my name. “We’re more than okay.”
MORGAN
He has no clue what he’s done to me.
And I hate myself.
For wanting him.
For desiring every part of him.
The moment he stepped into my office, I saw my former self. The person I used to be before I allowed myself to be burdened with the weight that rests on other people’s shoulders. I tried to resist him, but his cocky attitude got the best of me. His presence alone, sitting across the desk the first time we met, stirred this buried emotion—desire.
A muscular build hid behind this perfectly fitted navy suit. Tall, with hair styled modern and slicked to the side, accentuating his strong jawline. And although my body instantly craved to touch him, it was his deep blue eyes that had me drowning and begging for a life jacket.
But I have a terrible habit of screwing guys and walking away. Or at least, I used to.
Noah Mason is a wrecking ball. He’s taking me along with him, even though every part of me tries to push him away.
And then, without any warning, he fucked me. Against the door, challenging and full of grunt. In less than ten minutes, he’d done things to me that I’ve never experienced in this lifetime. He’s opened the doors and freed Violet Winters—a woman caged and living in the shadows of her famous sister.
I manage to wrap up the meeting without too much trouble. Jacque offered me a nightcap in his room, which I kindly refused.
I know Noah has difficulty expressing his emotions, but he plays the part of a jealous man to a T.
The question remains—Do I go back up to Noah’s room or not?
For minutes, I sit at the bar, contemplating my next move, wondering how I find myself here, why life chooses to throw this giant curveball at me as if I don’t have enough on my plate.
And then there are no more questions.
