Nicole couldn’t breathe, the offense of it, the insult of it was turning her on almost as much as the touch. “Nicole. Can you please not grab me?”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “This is my place.” The subtext was ‘I can do whatever I like.’
As though to prove it, his finger and thumb slid to a close around her nipple. Nicole shuddered, shifting against his thighs. “Please…”
“Yeah?” He bent his head to nuzzle her neck, his stubble grazing her skin.
“People are watching.”
“Yeah.”
Noah unzipped her hoodie and tugged it off, his hard hands running the length of her arms.
“We don’t know each other.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He tugged at the bottom of her t-shirt and she raised her arms so she could pull it off. Her black bra was revealed, in all its basic glory, but Noah stared like it was a sequined Simone Pérèle.
“What?”
“Your body…” He shook his head. “We’re done talking.”
She opened her mouth to protest, just on principle, but he bent forward and kissed her, gripping her hair to keep her from moving away. This was nothing like the kiss in her kitchen. It was hard and uncompromising, even a little mean. She moaned into his mouth and rocked against him, the hard fork of her jeans rubbing against her swollen pussy.
Noah’s hands slid around her back and—pang—her bra was open. Impressive. She shrugged her arms forward, but as the material tumbled down her forearms, shyness regrasped. She folded an arm across her hard pink nipples.
“None of that.” Noah tugged at her wrist, but she wouldn’t re-expose herself. She needed to be in a bed, in a dark room. She needed this to be more normal. “Can we go somewhere else?”
“Okay.”
He reached beneath her and lifted her into the air. He headed back up the hallway and paused at what had to be his bedroom door. “Ready?”
No, but that was different from not wanting him. She nodded and he opened the door and carried her inside.
Chapter 9
Noah’s room was spartan, little more than a huge bed and a chest of drawers. She could see there were more paintings on the walls, but she couldn’t make them out. His smell was everywhere, earth and tobacco. He lay her on his sheets and she shifted into them, trying to warm them up.
She could hear her breathing, fast and shallow.
“Look at me.”
She did, though Noah’s face was half-hidden in shadow. Without the bright glow of his eyes, he looked coarse and unattractive. “Take your clothes off. All of them. Shoes, too.”
Oh god, she was wearing her runners in his bed. She toed off her shoes and struggled out of her jean shorts. Despite their age, the waistband was tight, and she had to writhe in his sheets, her bare boobs jiggling, as she forced them down her legs. She felt like an idiot. Noah had done such a good job of setting the mood and she was trashing it.
When she finally kicked her shorts away, she tucked both thumbs into her panty-line. She pulled her underwear away from her body, arching her back and biting her lip. It was a pose that had always gotten good results from Aaron.
The bed sank as Noah stuck his knees in it. “Knock that shit off.”
“Sorry,” she said, mortified. “I told you, I’m not good at sexy.”
“It’s not that. Don’t pretend. If I wanted to fuck a pornstar, I’d pay for it.” He loomed over her, an angry shadow. “I want to fuck you. You know why?”
“No,” she lied. He wanted to unwrap and corrupt her, be the guy who showed her how good sex could be. What other advantage did she have over the Kellys and Daniellas of this world?
He shifted, settling on top of her, one knee on either side of her hips. “You want dick more than any girl I’ve ever met.”
The answer was so shocking, so unexpected, Nicole was legitimately offended. “Excuse me?”