Every cell in my body had been lit with a ferocious hunger I knew would never be satiated. I’d never have enough of him. It was undeniable that this pull between us would never die. It would only grow stronger. Intensify until we both drowned in it.
His hand slipped underneath my shirt, palming my breast. My back arched off the floor, and he thrust forward, giving me the welcome pressure I craved between my legs. It was just him and me, his lips and touch transporting me back to a time when we didn’t give a fuck about the world outside. It was just us. Always. Just. Us.
Only...it wasn’t.
It was no longer just us.
I was pregnant, which meant it would never be just us again. Ever.
“Noah,” I moaned, shifting beneath him. “Stop.”
“Don’t.” A groan tore from his throat. “Don’t tell me to stop.”
“Noah, please–” He claimed my mouth mid-plea, his kiss smothering the words that went against everything I felt inside my soul and in the heated ache between my legs. I didn’t want him to stop. I never wanted him to stop–even if it meant drowning.
I tasted unbridled passion on his tongue as his mouth grew more insistent. His body flexed and moved with demanding pressure, the fabric of our pants the only barrier between his hard cock and my throbbing sex, my panties soaked and ready to be torn off.
His touch turned from desperate to greedy as he pinched my nipple, the sensation causing my shoulders to lift from the floor; my skin nothing but sensation and bones ready to fucking shatter. We were drunk, consuming each other as if there was no tomorrow. But no matter how I yearned for the release I knew only he could give me; I couldn’t get rid of the voice that whispered far at the back of my mind.
His kiss, touch, and intoxicating burn were so familiar, but nothing was the same anymore.
Everything's changed.
“Stop. I can’t do this.” It took all my strength to tear my lips from his, to push past the haze of lust that so easily shackled me to this man. "Noah, I’m serious.” I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him off me before getting up. “Jesus.” My forehead was sweaty under my palm as I tried to catch my breath. I looked at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly; his neck flushed. “I can’t do this right now.”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before getting onto his feet, lust burning in his hooded eyes, his expression painted with lines of seduction and desire.
“You can’t do this, Noah,” I snapped. “You can’t come crashing back into my life, expecting everything to be okay because you had a fucking good excuse for breaking my heart. Don’t get me wrong, I get it. You were trying to keep me safe, and I’d be a real selfish bitch if I held that against you. But that doesn’t make the pain of the last few weeks just go away within a split second. It’s still here.” I pressed my hand against my chest. “It still hurts.”
He placed both palms behind his head and glanced up at the ceiling, catching his breath. “Is it him?”
“What? Who?”
“Andrew.”
“Oh my God.” I rolled my eyes. “Are you serious right now?”
“You met up with him at the coffee shop. You two seemed,” his nostrils flared, “comfortable with one another.”
“Of course.” I scoffed. “You were there the entire time, watching me, waiting to pull off your little snatch-and-grab-Sienna operation.”
His expression was all hard lines and discontent. “I saw the way he looked at you the night of the party at your house.”
“Oh, you mean the night you almost fucked me in my dad’s wine cellar; then went on to fuck me bent over a goddamn sawhorse?”
“Is there something there…between the two of you?”
“No,” I exclaimed. “Just. No. You do not get to play the part of the jealous ex. You don’t have that right.”
His top lip curled with a snarl. “Answer my question.”
“You know what, Noah? Fuck you.” I walked up to him, looking straight into his turbulent eyes. “Fuck you for thinking I would be able to just move on after what you and I had. I’ve cried every goddamn day since you left, missing you so fucking much, the pain was debilitating. Not a minute went by that I didn’t feel like I was dying. Because of you. You! And now you want to stand there and pretend like you know what the hell is going on in my life; pretend that having coffee with a friend so I could get my mind off you for two fucking hours is so wrong.” I pressed my lips together, fuming with anger. “I don’t owe you a goddamn thing.”
His eyes reflected the turbulence that raged inside me; and I wanted to scream while he merely looked at me, the weight of the deafening silence sucking all the air out of the room.
He cleared his throat, and looked away, wiping his palm down his face. “I get it.” He licked his lips, his gaze sweeping across the room, looking everywhere but at me. “This,” he started, gesturing between us, “it won’t happen again.”
His heavy footsteps reverberated off the floor as he stomped out of the room. I wanted to stop him. I wanted to open my stupid mouth and beg him to stay, to kiss me again. But I didn’t. I let him walk out without saying a goddamn word because...I clutched my belly...what I wanted no longer mattered.