Authors: Clare James
The weight
has lifted from my shoulders and I’m almost giddy. After class, I wait for Noah. I’m dying to get him back to my apartment where I can have him all to myself, but he has to stop at the paper first.
His hand slides in mine
as he gives me a wicked grin. “Before we go, I need to ask you something.”
I look back and see something devilish in his eyes.
I’m so in trouble.
THIRTY
After
our presentation, Noah tells me he thinks it’s time we move on with our experiment. And before I know it, he’s scheduled it for tonight.
At seven p.m., we begin Stage Four.
S.E.X.
As t
he clock ticks toward seven, I get more nervous with each passing second. I spend those ticking seconds going through my pathetic wardrobe and trying on a few outfits before settling on jeans and a blue sweater—the one Jules dug out of the garbage. The one I bought to impress Mom but threw out to make myself feel better after she ruined our Thanksgiving. Hope it’s not covered in bad juju.
There’s a knock on the door at exactly seven.
When
I open it, Noah sweeps me up in his arms. “God, I’ve missed you,” he whispers in my ear.
“You have no idea.
” I take his bottom lip in mine, no longer able to contain myself.
After I attack his mouth
, and Noah indulges, he pulls back. “I’m sorry your mom didn’t show for Thanksgiving.” He kisses my forehead.
“It’s okay, not
that
big of a surprise.”
I know Noah want
s me to open up to him about this,
but I don’t want my mother to ruin this moment.
“We still had a nice time,” I tell him. “
But I missed you so much. I don’t want to waste another second. Let’s get started. Where do you want me?”
Noah holds me by the waist.
“Baby, I want nothing more than to get my hands on you. But I’ve been thinking. I want to stop the experiments. Let’s let this happen naturally. When I make love to you the first time I want to know it’s because you want to, not because of a stupid experiment.”
“It’s not stupid,” I say a little put off. “This has helped me more than you’ll ever know. To be able to be with you this way. To trust you with my body, my heart
. I never thought I’d have this again. It means everything to me.”
“Me, too.” Noah swallows and pulls his eyebrows together. “I want to give you
everything, Tabby. I want to take you out, feed you, romance you. I want you to have it all.”
“So, you’re saying you want to date?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Sure, I can do normal.” I laugh. “At least for a night.”
Noah’s face lights up at that, brighter than I’ve ever seen it.
And within five minutes, we’re on a date. Driving downtown, Noah maneuvers along the one-ways like a pro. We park at the library and he slings a backpack over his shoulder and takes my hand, leading me to Nicollet Mall—though it’s not really a mall, it’s a mile-long pedestrian thoroughfare flanked by stores and restaurants. Dad used to take me shopping here when I was a kid, and of course, to the parade. That’s right, the Christmas parade. I remember watching it from Dad’s shoulders when I was little. Then he’d take me for a fancy hot cocoa at this cool art deco restaurant.
It was one of the best things about Christmas.
Noah scouts out the perfect spot and pulls a blanket out of his backpack.
Yay
! We’re staying for the parade.
I can’t hide my smile. This is perfection.
Noah lays the blanket on the sidewalk and pulls out another to cover us after we sit. Then he takes out a thermos of hot cocoa and Christmas cookies—or should I say Hanukkah cookies? They’re in the shapes of the Star of David, menorahs, and dreidels, and covered in blue icing.
B
est. Date. Ever.
High school bands playing holiday tunes march by us, while people covered in Christmas lights dance along the street. They’re dressed
up like snowmen and stars and storybook characters. I scream when the Big Bad Wolf jumps out at me from behind a float. Noah laughs and pulls me in tight.
“See,” he says in my ear. “We’re good at this.”
“Yeah,” I agree “We are.” I lean into him and the rest of the world falls away.
Too soon, the last float rolls past us—the one with Santa waving and the elves throwing candy canes—and the parade-goers fight to get to their cars. But Noah and I just sit. We’re in no hurry.
He wraps his arms around me and I snuggle in.
W
e don’t even need the mistletoe.
THIRTY-ONE
At my apartment, the nerves start to kick in. But it’s no longer just nerves, it’s excitement and joy and just plain old horniness that this incredibly sexy piece of ass is going to
take me to bed in less than five minutes.
I make preparations with candles and music. Noah is on my heels.
He reaches for my hands. “I have just one request.”
“Oh, taking requests are we?” I smile. “I might have a few of my own.”
“I want you to tell me the moment you feel scared, worried, or uncomfortable,” he says, taking a seat on the bed. “And I want to spend the night.”
“That’s two requests,” I chirp.
Okay, maybe it is nerves I’m feeling.
“The last thing wasn’t a request,” he says. “It’s a demand. I’m not leaving you tonight.” Noah’s jaw sets in that bossy way of his. “Now take off your clothes, Tabitha.”
I didn’t even think about it, I just do as he asks.
“Slower,” he says once I’m standing before him in my lace bra and panties.
Finally, my sexy underwear gets some play.
I take a deep breath and move to Noah so he can finish the job—remembering he is not taking control from me. I am giving it to him. I can stop it at any time.
Noah changes places with me so I’m sitting on the edge of the bed and he’s on his knees in front of me. He kisses my eyelids before unclasping my bra and sliding it off at an excruciating slow pace.
He stares at me for a long time, his eyes flowing over my body. A trail of heat is left in their wake and I feel moisture pooling between my legs.
“You are so beautiful.” Noah
wraps his arms around my waist and plants butterfly kisses across my chest.
I stroke
the side of his face and take his hands, guiding him on the bed. “So are you,” I whisper. I plunder his mouth so hard I’m sure we’ll both have bruises. I pour my soul into the kiss and hand over my heart.
Truthfully, i
t’s been his for a long time now.
Noah pulls
off his shirt and my hands immediately gravitate to his chest, feeling my way around his amazing body. “There, we’re even again.” He chuckles as he slips off his jeans. "But not for long.”
Once again, he moves between my legs. M
y mouth is dry with anticipation. I want him. Badly. There is no fear in this moment. Just want. His hands tuck under me, cupping my bottom, and he slowly drags off my panties. His fingers trail behind, sparking fire on my skin.
“God, Tabby.” He bites the inside of my thigh with a groan. “If you could see how fucking sexy you look right now.”
He doesn’t wait for a response and when I look back down all I see is the back of his head between my legs. Then I feel him. His tongue teases me, brushing against my swollen skin. When he flicks it deeper inside, my hips buck up to meet him. I’m no longer in control, but I don’t care. I can’t think of anything other than the throbbing between my legs.
“Noah,” I gasp.
He pushes my legs farther apart and thrusts his tongue deeper inside. His hands travel up my body where he kneads my breast.
I feel…beautiful and adored for maybe the first time in my life.
My hands grip his hair, but his head keeps moving. I slide my hands down to his face, his cheeks, his jaw. I can feel what he’s doing to me and the sensation is indescribable. The ache inside grows with each thrust of his tongue.
“Noah, come here,” I beg. “I need you.”
He stops the tortuous movement with his mouth and replaces it with his fingers, and then climbs up my body to meet me.
“
This time, Tab, you need to tell me what you want.” His voice is rough and his breathing is heavy before he claims my mouth. “Tell me,” he says again, breaking the kiss.
“I want you
,” I tell him, trying not to be self-conscious.
I reach in his boxer-briefs and feel his length for the first time without all the rules
of our experiment. Power streams through me and I’m almost high on it. I tighten my grip and he moans. Chills run up and down my body.
I feel power both giving and taking control. Now, however, it’s time to take.
“I want this,” I say, stroking him slowly.
Then I move fast, ripping off his boxers and taking him in my mouth.
“Christ,” Noah spits, and I know he’s mine to do with as I want. “Shit, Tabby, say it, please. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
I ignore him for a minute
enjoying my assault on his body.
When I stop, I crawl up his chest
and say in his ear, “I want you to take what’s yours.”
Noah happily obliges. He sits up, bringing me with him as he captures m
y breast in his mouth and gently tugs on the other. I let him feast on me until I can’t take it another second.
“Please, Noah,” I say. “I want you
inside me.” I pull his hair, a little harder than I mean to. “Now,” I gasp.
“That’s all I needed to hear,” Noah says, flipping me to my back. He slides my legs apart and they fall open for him. At this point, I have no shame.
His hips grind into mine as he makes his way inside. “Tabby, you are so ready for me.” His voice is rough. “God, you feel so good.” He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Are you okay?”
I nod.
I am so much more than okay.
“Move with me,” he commands, rocking
faster.
I keep pace with him and it is
pure ecstasy. Each movement has me climbing again, until I come apart all around him. I yell his name. And that’s all it takes for Noah to fall with me.
T
HIRTY-TWO
To say my life is bliss would be a gross misrepresentation. It is bliss to the nth degree times infinity. I am in love—with a sexy, smart, kind, amazing guy, and somehow he finds me worth all the trouble.
I al
so have Jules and Foster and my group of misfits. And I have Dad, Amy, and Michael. And though I may still have issues with Mom and have Noah’s pesky ex to deal with from time to time, my cup runneth over.
I’m thinking about all of this on t
he Friday before Christmas break while I’m in my shrink’s cozy office.
Yes, this is the yin and yang o
f my life.
Dr. Payne
has a fireplace roaring and I feel like I could fall asleep.
“So you’re going to see your m
om over the holiday?” Never one to mince words, she gets right to it and brings me back to reality. “How long has it been since her last visit?”
“About four
months ago,” I say. “She hasn’t come to see me since school started.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
Sometimes I wanted to tell Dr. Payne where she could stick all of her questions. They were so ridiculous. I didn’t understand why she couldn’t be straight with me and just ask what was on her mind.
“It feels pretty shitty, that’s how it feels,” I tell her
.
Then I pr
oceed to explain why—and how—my mother continues to let me down. From the moment she found out about Thomas’ party, to sticking me in New Beginnings, to Thanksgiving. Our conversation goes on for quite some time.
When I’m finish
ed, I brace for the reprimand.
She doesn’
t give me one. Instead, she asks, “Do you think your mother is afraid, Tabby?”
“Afraid? I highly doubt it. What could she possibly be afraid of?”
“Maybe she’s afraid of failing or disappointing you,” Dr. Payne says. “Maybe she takes some of the blame for what happened last year. Why don’t you tell me about the conversations you’ve had about your assault, the fallout, your depression?”
Too tired to
fight, I take a breath and get ready to spill. Her question was a good one. Mom and I talked
around
all of those things. She sat at my bed a few times and brought me soup. Of course, she’d say
it’s going to be okay
and
we’re going to get through this
about a thousand times a day, but that was the extent of it.
“I don’t think we really did talk about it,” I finally answer.