Authors: Missy Johnson,Ashley Suzanne
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College, #Contemporary Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense
“Hey, Noah.” I smile. “Lovely to meet you.”
It’s becoming rather difficult to break through to him the way I was planning to. Yeah, sure, he wants me, but he’s not doing anything about it. It’s making me question everything I’ve started. The only way I’m going to know for sure what happened with him and Karly is to get to know him on a more personal level. Yes, I want him to suffer for what he did to her, but more than that, I want the truth. All this second-guessing myself has to stop one way or another.
“I’ll get us a drink,” announces Shannon, pointing at the sofa. “Sit down. Are you
cooking
something?” she asks Noah. From the tone of her voice, I’m guessing he doesn’t cook much.
“Dinner,” he mumbles. His face reddens. I walk over to the sofa and sit down, crossing one leg over the other. He paces the room as Shannon disappears. As soon as she’s out of earshot, he turns to me.
“What the hell are you doing?” he growls.
I blink innocently. “I had no idea she was your girlfriend,” I lie. “It’s a great opportunity. Of course I was going to say yes.” I wet my lips and smirk at him.
The fact that he’s nervous, like he doesn’t want Shannon to know about me, lets me know that Shannon isn’t going to know anything about Karly, either. I’m going to have to find another way to the truth.
Shannon bounces back into the room juggling three cans of soda before he can respond. I smile and accept a can, popping the top open.
“I invited Zara for dinner, is that okay? I wanted to show her some of my old assignment pieces.”
“Yeah, sure,” he mutters. Shannon ignores his obvious foul mood and starts talking fashion to me. I’m half listening and half watching Noah fight his own conscience.
“…I think it’s in the spare bedroom. Give me a sec.” She jumps to her feet and runs out of the room.
I stand up and walk toward him, knowing I have a good few minutes before Shannon comes back.
“You can’t stay here.” His voice is strained as he holds his arms out, preventing me from getting any closer. “God, Zara, what the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m giving you what I know you want,” I whisper. I push his hands away too easily.
If he really doesn’t want this he would be putting up more of a fight.
I reach up, my hands snaking around his neck.
Leaning into him, placing my mouth just outside his ear, I whisper, “It’s a shame. I really like Shannon. If you ever call it quits with her, you just let me know.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” he snarls, affected by me being so close, yet, in a way, appalled that I’ve invaded his home. Even though I’ve been here before, his mood’s not the same. As he pushes my shoulders back, forcing me away from him, he glances up at me, almost apologetic. I know the feeling. This would have all been a lot easier had I not had any conversation with Shannon. Karly deserves justice, but hurting another person, another woman, in the process seems cruel.
I step away as Shannon walks back into the room. Her arms are full of clothing and scrapbooks. She dumps them on the floor and sits down, oblivious to the tension between Noah and I. Noah steps out of the room while Shannon and I go through her books. She’s good. I mean, she’s really good. The dresses she’s designed—I can’t understand why she’s mentoring college students and doesn’t have some kind of fancy boutique in the city. If I ever wanted to get married, I’d want her to design my dress.
“Shannon, these are wonderful. You really should do something with this. You have a talent not many people have,” I tell her, honestly.
“I’ve wanted to for a long time, but life kind of got a hold of me. Never really got back into it. Figure, as long as I have the talent, I should at least share it with someone, you know?”
“Makes sense. You could really be something, though. When my cousin Amanda got married a few years ago, I was a bridesmaid, and I would have loved to wear one of these and not what she picked. Hell, she had a Vera dress and yours are even more beautiful than that.” Shannon blushes, pushing aside one book to open another, when Noah rounds the corner.
“I think I might head to the gym,” he mutters.
I’m sure he just wants to get out of the apartment and away from me. I really should apologize to him for this. I knew what I was doing, but all of it feels wrong. And for me to see that it’s wrong, it has to be really, really wrong.
“I should get going, too. I have classes pretty early. Would you like me to call a cab?” I ask Shannon.
“I’ll give you a ride, that’s not a problem. Thanks for coming over and looking at these designs. It’s been so long since I brought them out, I feel rejuvenated, in a way.”
“Great. It was nice meeting you, Noah.” He gives me a sideways glance before he grabs a bag from the closet and flies out the door without a second thought.
Shannon and I leave shortly after, chatting about dresses and fashion the entire drive back to my apartment. She really is a nice woman, but I don’t see a connection between her and Noah. She didn’t even comment on the setup he had made for her. If I noticed that the dining room was clean, the apartment smelled of a wonderful dinner, and he was wearing different clothes than he wore in class today, how didn’t she? Trouble in paradise?
Shannon parks just in front of my building, showing me her schedule for future mentoring dates. I tell her I’ll shoot her an email to confirm once I check the times I have available between school and work. Realizing it’s been a week or so since I’ve checked the mailbox, I cross the parking lot just as Shannon’s car pulls out of sight. Opening the box, I grab the few letters and sale ads and make my way to the door, flipping through a magazine.
“What the hell was that, Zara?” Noah asks, as I approach the front door. Stopping just before I collide with him, I stare up into his light blue eyes, shocked.
“I really had no idea. I’m sorry,” I answer, partially honestly. I knew exactly what I was doing, yet I’m still sorry I did it.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but it has to stop.”
“You know what, Noah? You should go. I’m sorry that you think I’m playing a game. I’m sorry that me having a crush on my teacher is a little too much for you to handle.” Too many conflicting emotions have taken their toll on me today. All this switching from being angry and hurt to apologetic and pathetic. I’m over it. All of it.
“Shit. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just don’t know what to do here, Zara. I just don’t know.”
“What do you want to do, Noah?” I ask, exasperated, wishing he would just go and let me wallow in my own misery for a little while.
“I’d like to talk for a little bit. Just talk. I said friends, but that’s all. I was your friend the other night. Do you think you could be mine for a moment?” He’s caught me off guard, and I’m not exactly sure how to answer.
“Sure.”
“I almost made the biggest mistake of my life tonight. Before you and Shannon got to the apartment.” Not understanding what he’s talking about, I think of something that a friend would do.
“Can I interest you in a drink?” I ask. He hesitates, but nods. “Dillon won’t be home for a while.”
“Your boyfriend,” he states, matter-of-factly.
“Uh-huh. Just like Shannon is your girlfriend. We’re friends, right? We should be able to hang out,” I say lightly.
I walk up the path to the front door. I unlock the door and hold it open for him. He walks in, and I follow.
“Straight ahead and then to your left.” I direct him to my unit, then make a quick job of unlocking that door.
We enter the kitchen and I put the coffeemaker on. He stands at the end of the counter, his palms firmly laid out on it as he watches me. I pull down two cups.
“Black or light?” I ask, because it seems as though his coffee preference goes along with his mood. When he drank it black outside the theater, he wanted me. Then in the diner he added cream and sugar, and he was pushing me away.
“Black.” He smiles and I reciprocate. Exactly what I was worried he’d say.
I raise my eyebrows and brace myself. If he wants me and I have him alone, I have to act on it. If I don’t, I’ll only kick myself in the ass for it and regret not doing something. I rack my brain, trying to think of what I can do to stir the pot, but I can’t lie and say I’m not nervous that moving forward will only confuse my feelings for him even more than they already are.
“So, tell me, how long have you been interested in fashion design? You’ve never mentioned it before.” His lips curve up into a smirk.
“You mean in the couple of months that you’ve known me?”
“Fair point. It’s a big coincidence, though. Isn’t it?”
“Is it? Dillon saw something about it in the admin building and told me I should apply. How the hell would I know she’s your
girlfriend
?” I slide his coffee across the counter and walk around to meet him.
He breathes in sharply as I duck under his arm, immersing myself in the space between him and the counter. His arms twitch as my gaze lifts to meet his.
“If I recall correctly,” I begin, narrowing my eyes, “you are the one with the stalker tendencies, or have you forgotten about your little alarm incident?” He flushes, and now it’s my turn to smirk.
I rest my hands on the edge of the counter and hoist myself up, parting my legs enough that if he wants to step between them, he has no obstacles in his way. I’m more than shocked when he takes a step in my direction.
“So why are you here, Noah?” I ask, glancing down as he takes another step, like a current is pushing him in my direction and at the same time pulling me closer to him.
His brow furrows. “Because you invited me inside.” He’s eyeing me like I’ve lost my mind. I laugh and shake my head.
“That doesn’t explain why you said yes,” I say breathily, hooking a finger at the hem of his shirt, giving a slight tug, and then he all-too-smoothly takes yet another step, my knees at his waist. His pained expression makes it clear that he doesn’t know what he wants. Let me rephrase that. He knows exactly what he wants, but he knows it’s wrong and he’s fighting it every step of the way. With my defenses down, I should be fighting it as well, but being close to him feels too right. “Why did you say yes? Do you want to be here with me?”
I lean slightly forward, and my lips brush against his. I run my fingers over his soft stubble as his strong hands grab on to my waist, and, as if on their own accord, struggle to free me of my top. It feels like he’s having a realization of what’s going on and tries to pull away, but I recover quickly and hold him close. With my legs around his body, I use my heels to pull him into me and hold him there. When he rolls his hips against mine, I know I’ve won. There’s no way he’s backing out now.
“Noah,” I softly moan, fumbling with the button on his pants.
“This is so wrong. You’re going to get me in a lot of trouble.” He plants wet kisses down my jaw and neck until he reaches my lace-covered breasts. Pulling the fabric away and my tit out, his hot mouth comes down on my nipple. I arch my back, giving him better access. His free hand gives attention to the other breast.
Getting a brilliant idea, I release my hold on his waist and push him back. I climb off the counter and he gives me a strange look. “Zara,” he whispers, starting to retreat back to the place in his mind that tells him we can’t.
I act fast, pushing him down onto the dining room chair. Grabbing my phone and hitting play on the last song I was listening to, my devilish smile gleams, knowing I’m about to ruin him for all other women. The strong beat and the sounds of Marilyn Manson’s voice stream through the kitchen.
“What are you—”
I cut him off mid-sentence, climbing onto his lap, straddling his legs. His lips search out mine, but I’m in control and I have a plan. My hips start grinding against his slowly. Ripping the bra from my body, I quicken my pace. As the chorus begins, I arch my back and lean away from Noah, giving him a fantastic view of my body…my head thrown back in ecstasy.
I stand, pressing a button on my phone to switch to the next song. Turning my back to Noah, I step between his legs, bringing my ass to rest against his crotch. Dragging my body up and down slowly, confidently, I push my hand inside the waistband of my yoga pants. The Divinyls continue singing as I touch myself.
“Fuck, Zara,” Noah hisses, trying to replace my hand with his. I keep the rhythm with my gyrations and slap his greedy fingers away.
“I got this. You just sit back and enjoy.” I find my clit with ease. Weeks without sex even though I have a perfectly good dick sleeping beside me each night have fucked with my head. But now I get to get off, work him up, and make Noah want me more than he ever thought he would.
Hoping the words from the song seep into his head, giving him the idea that I rub one out anytime I think of him, I let him rest his hand over mine, leading him to believe he’s setting the pace. Nope. Not even close.
Resting my head on his shoulder, making sure my lips are right at his ear, I snake out my tongue, softly licking the lobe. In this position he’s going to hear every hitch in my breath, every quiet moan…it’s so fucking erotic. And don’t think for one second that I’m not going all in. If I’m going to attempt using this kind of tactic to secure him, I’m gonna get mine.
While my fingers run circles, I momentarily get lost in my own pleasure and I don’t realize that he’s moved his hand down slightly. It’s when he pushes a finger inside of me that I completely lose it. I try to move my hand faster, but it’s trapped under his, and he’s compensating with another finger and angling them to hit that perfect spot.
I decide to let him have this moment. I pull my hand out, placing it on his thigh. The heel of Noah’s hand massages me while his digits do their job diligently. It’s a matter of seconds and I’m firing off onto his hand.
“Oh, fuck.” I pant, trying to catch my breath.
“You’re trouble,” he growls, moving his head to catch my lips with his. Wet and sloppy, our kisses fill the kitchen, echoing off the tile. “Never in all my life…” he starts to say when I come down from my orgasmic high. Reaching behind me, I pull at his zipper, needing so much more than I just got. If he’s this good with his fingers, I’m going to get everything out of him that I can.