Noah Page 3

  "What are you doing in my apartment?" I ask as I try and catch my breath. He looks over at me as he shovels a butter cookie in his mouth. A few crumbs end up at the corner of his lips drawing my attention to his flawless mouth as I wait for a crumb to fall in his beard.

  "Trying to decide if I should start that new Netflix original show or watch one of Kevin Hart's stand-ups." His eyes focus in on my chest and the small amount of material I'm trying to cover up with. I'm surprised when his cheeks flush a bright red. He's embarrassed... and I'm immediately turned on. My nipples harden and I have to suppress back a greedy moan.

  Whenever Noah's cheeks turn red, or he gets angry, I've always been turned on. I can't explain why, but it's a bad habit I need to learn to break.

  "Put your shirt on, shorty. I won't look." He covers his eyes like a child and jokingly parts two of his finger to peek through. Rolling my eyes I turn my back to him and slip the tank top on so my body's covered.

  Turning back around I look over at the television and Gilmore Girls is highlighted in the Netflix queue as if he was going to choose it before I walked in on him. "Don’t you have somewhere else you could be, like, I don't know, watching Netflix in your own apartment?"

  He grabs another one of my favorite cookies and I stomp over to him, grabbing the cardboard box before he eats all of them.

  "Caleb texted. His boss is making him work through the night and he hasn't had a chance to step away and call you yet. He asked me to come over and check up on you. I walked in, you weren't in my line of sight, and I was distracted by the food in your kitchen so I grabbed the cookies. I was going to search for you but then I heard you in the bedroom so I decided to sit here, eat, and watch Netflix until you came out and I could tell you." He reaches out and grabs the box of cookies from my hands. "Just for making me explain I'm eating the rest of your cookies."

  I concede in our cookie fight, deciding I'll just buy more tomorrow, and sit down next to him. "If I'm forced to watch Netflix with you then you better put on Gilmore Girls like you originally planned."

  He looks over at me disgusted as he squints, hiding his light brown eyes. "I'm not watching Gilmore Girls."

  “Oh, please. If I had walked in two minutes later you'd be entranced with Lorelei and Rory's latest antics. I know you better than you think I do. You never planned on watching Kevin Hart's stand-up."

  He shrugs his shoulders, turning back to the TV. "Fine. You're right, but I'm not starting it at season one. I'm on season two and I want to see what happens between Rory and Jess."

  "I could always just tell you. Jess–"

  "No!" he shouts, turning into me. He leans all of his weight against my tiny frame as his hand covers my mouth. I get a glimpse of the tattoos that cover his arm as the sleeve of his hoodie moves up his forearm. "Don’t you dare spoil it for me or I'll tell you what happens next on Lost."

  I bite down on the inside of his hand so he'll release my mouth. He winces in pain and pulls his hand away. "You wouldn't spoil Lost for me, Noah. You know how much I hate spoilers." The show has been off the air for several years and I haven't even done a Google search to see what happens. I like to be surprised. Spoiling a show is like skipping to the end of a good book to see what happens to the characters. Why ruin the story for yourself? You want to experience and feel every emotion, every action with those characters. If you cheat and skip to the end you're ruining the experience for yourself.

  "Oh, I would, so you better not tell me shit about what will or will not happen between Jess and Rory."

  He's looking down at me with furrowed eyebrows. His eyes are just inches from mine, trying to read what I'm going to do next. I inhale his musky scent from working all day. He smells like his cologne mixed with his natural body odor and dry sweat–something that wouldn't be appealing to most but I love the smell of him. He's my dirty boy...or he used to be.

  Smiling up at him I start to laugh. He's so serious, his facial expression so stern over a show that was watched by millions of teenage girls. Watching it goes against his rebel persona.

  "What's so funny?" he asks. His weight is still crushing me and I'm forced to fall and rest my weight on my back because I can no longer hold myself up. He falls slightly with me, his chest above mine as he rests in an uncomfortable angle on the couch.

  "It's just...you're getting so mad over a show that was aired on a network watched by adolescents. It's cute."

  "It's not cute. Take it back." His hands move to my sides, sliding against my thin tank top over my lower stomach.

  "You're right, it's adorable, actually. The rebellious and macho Noah is actually a sensitive guy underneath it all. I get it now. It explains so much."

  "Oh," he howls out, shaking his head. "You're going to get it," he promises. His fingers grip my waist before he starts tickling my stomach.

  I burst into a fit of giggles, squirming underneath his hard body as I try to get away from his touch. I'm extremely ticklish and he knows it and is using it to his advantage.

  Bastard.

  “Stop…stop!" I laugh out as the tickles become slightly painful and I have the sudden urge to pee. "Stop, please, Noah."

  His hands move up my sides, giving my stomach a break. He reaches under my armpits and continues his tickle attack. His weight pressed on top of me is making it impossible to dodge each move. I'm a prisoner and he's the only one who can release me.

  "Take it back and I'll stop," he orders. I continue to wiggle underneath him as he adjusts his body, trying to stop me from getting any leverage. My hands move to his chest and I try to push him off me, but he's not budging. He laughs at my attempt to push him off as I pull and shove at his hoodie. My legs fall open and I bend my knees so I can plant my feet firmly on the sofa and push up, but Noah is one step ahead of me. His body moves with mine and he slips between my legs so his lower half is pressed against me just right. His hips grind into my center and I feel something hard underneath his sweatpants brush against my core. Suddenly, I'm all too aware of every inch of his body.

  My laughter falters as Noah stops tickling me. We're both quiet, the only sound is our heavy breathing as I try to take in the new compromising position we're both in. My chest moves up and down dramatically with each breath and I watch as his eyes rake over the heavy humps of my small breasts.

  I'm just now realizing how inappropriate I'm dressed for being alone with a guy who's not my boyfriend, but it wasn't planned this way. It's not like I knew he was coming over tonight.

  Noah's hips move slightly, just enough for me to feel the mammoth underneath his sweatpants and I hold back a moan, biting my tongue to ensure no noise comes out. He feels good pressed against me and I don’t want this moment to end. I want to stay here, lying here, and explore the possibilities this position gives us. I'm experiencing a sensory overload.

  Wait, what am I thinking?

  This is Noah, for God's sake. I can’t be feeling this way about him, or experiencing perverse pleasure from his erection brushing against me. My feelings died for Noah the moment I fell in love with Caleb, didn't they?

  Yes, they did.

  I have a loving, tender, and loyal boyfriend at work right now. I love Caleb. I shouldn't be in this position with Noah when I already have the perfect man.

  "Am I interrupting something?"

  Our heads snap to the front door of the apartment and Caleb is standing in the entryway. His briefcase is in one hand and his suit jacket is across his forearm. His curly hair is no longer slicked back but disheveled from a long day at work. His piercing blue eyes are red and his eyelids are having a hard time staying open. He looks exhausted.

  Noah moves faster than I do and pushes off me, breaking our connection. He stands up and adjusts his clothing, probably to disguise his hard-on…which is no big deal. It really isn't. Men get boners all the time. It probably had absolutely nothing to do with me. It's no big deal.

  Well, I mean, it felt like a pretty big–

  Why am I thinking about how b
ig Noah is? I should be checking on my boyfriend after his long day in the office.

  I sit up on the couch and examine Caleb as he walks over to us. "I thought you weren't going to be home tonight?"

  Great, Skye. As if the position you were in didn’t look guilty enough, now you're telling your boyfriend you didn't think he'd be home when he walked in on you and Noah in a compromising position.

  "I'm not supposed to be but Reagan, who's the lead attorney on the case, had an emergency at home so we called it a night. I have to be back in the office at seven, though." He looks between Noah and me again. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning. "What were you two doing?"

  Just be honest. You have nothing to hide. So what if Noah got a hard-on while tickling me. It was no big deal. And when he was peering down at my breasts it was a natural reaction. Any man would have the same one if tits were that close to his face. Although, my tits are small so they're not that impressive. They just look bigger because I'm so petite.

  "Noah got mad when he thought I was going to spoil Gilmore Girls for him. I was about to tell him what happens between Rory and Jess and he attacked me, tickling me into submission."

  "Tell that story again and next time I'll tickle you until you pee," Noah chimes in.

  "Dude, really," Caleb replies, smirking at Noah as he shakes his head in amusement. "You attacked my girlfriend because you didn't want her to spoil a show for you. Lame, bro."

  Caleb walks towards us in the living room and sets his briefcase and suit jacket down on the glass end table above the safe. He sits down next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. "Besides, you shouldn’t get too attached to Jess. He’s gone before the series is over."

  I can't help but laugh, disguising it with a fit of coughs, because Caleb just ruined the show for him. Noah glares at Caleb and growls, "Asshole."

  He looks pretty put out at the fact that Caleb spoiled the show, and I lift a hand to cover my mouth, hoping to still hide the fact that I find it so amusing. It doesn't work.

  "What's so funny, shorty?"

  "You," I laugh out. "You were so worried about me spoiling it that you never saw Caleb coming. I made him watch that show with me a few years ago on a DVD binge."

  "Whatever." Noah grabs the box of cookies off the couch and moves over to the large, two-person chair to the left of the couch. He lounges back, stretching out his legs, and my eyes involuntarily move to his groin, checking to see if he's still rocking an erection. I don't see anything.

  Why did I even have to look?

  See, this is the problem with boy-girl friendships. You have one accidental, inappropriate reaction and you start to think about that friend sexually. Like if the boner he had resting against your inner thigh a few minutes ago was because he's attracted to you. And does he still have the boner now?

  I shouldn't be thinking about his cock at all.

  Instead, I should be thinking about the wonderful boyfriend beside me. He works so hard, day in and day out, to provide a great future for us. When I met him all those years ago I didn't think much of it. He was a way to distract me from Noah, but as time went on, real feelings developed and I realized Caleb could give me everything I ever wanted in life. He's a good man. I'm lucky to have him.

  I snuggle in closer to his side and inhale his scent. He's wearing the cologne I bought him for Christmas last year. I love it on him, but tonight it's mixed with a different scent. Is it...do I smell...coconut?

  "You want to stick around and play Destiny?" Caleb asks Noah as his hands absentmindedly plays with a loose strand of my hair.

  "You look tired, man. Maybe I should head back across the hall so you can get some sleep with your girl."

  "I am tired but I need to play for a little bit to get my mind off this case."

  I can think of other things he could do with me to get his mind off the case but he's probably too tired for sex, and honestly, it wouldn't feel right after being turned on by Noah tonight. A game of Destiny is a good alternative. They may be grown men with good jobs, but they still play video games like a couple of teenage boys.

  "Yeah, I can play for a little bit but then I have to go check on the club."

  "I don't know how you handle hours like that, Noah. Staying up all-night and sleeping all morning would get exhausting for me. I'm not twenty anymore, you know? My body can't handle that strain."

  Noah's bar, Bar Forbidden, closes at one but Club Desire, which is in the back of the bar, stays open until four am.

  "It's not bad when you love what you do," Noah replies as he reopens the cookie box and stuffs another one of my favorite cookies in his mouth. I'll have to hide those before the next time he comes over.

  "Do you love the job, or the perks that come with it?” Caleb asks.

  Noah smirks. "Both, but the perks make the bad days worth it." His eyes fall on me and he winks, as my stomach tightens and I seriously think about throwing up for a few seconds.

  Those "perks" Noah is talking about disgust me. He has an endless amount of beautiful women working for him and all of them are vying for a spot in his bed. Lucky for them their odds are good because the opposite side of his bed has a revolving door. His bed is never empty and never occupied by a girlfriend–just girls he sleeps with.

  When Noah inherited Forbidden Desires, Inc. a few years ago, I seriously thought he'd sell the company and use the profit to travel the world for the rest of his life. He didn't like to be held down in one place and traveling filled him with joy and contentment. I mean his home was in Michigan when he wasn't traveling. There was no way he'd uproot his whole life and move to New York for a job like this.

  But a few months after I followed Caleb to New York, Noah showed up at our front door. I was shocked, to say the least. He decided to keep his grandfather's business and run it himself. He slept on our couch in our rundown apartment for a few weeks until he started renting the apartment he lives in now. A few years later when Caleb and I were looking for a nicer place to live, Noah told Caleb about the apartment across the hall from him. We were moved in within a week.

  It all seemed like a good idea at the time, until Caleb gave Noah a key and Noah decided he would come over whenever the hell he wanted.

  Kissing Caleb on the cheek I move out from under his arm and get up from the couch, pulling at the hem of my tank to cover up the small amount of bare skin below my belly button. "As much as I'd love to hear about all the women who work for Noah and how they fuck him in their spare time, I'm going to hit the sack."

  Sensing how uncomfortable I am, Noah decides to tease me a little. “Oh, come on, Skye. I haven't even told you all the ways I make them scream in pleasure and how they come back, begging for more. My beard has some serious advantages. The way it teases my partners is almost like having a third hand to assist me in making them come."

  Why is he doing this to me? I really cannot think about his beard right now.

  "Fuck, Noah. You might have taken that a little too far," Caleb calls from the couch. "Skye doesn't need to know that shit."

  "Are you afraid she'll be asking you to grow a third hand? Because you should, man. You really fucking should."

  "Caleb can't grow a beard. He has no facial hair." Why did I say that? Why did I fucking say that?

  Noah bursts out laughing from the chair and Caleb grabs one of the throw pillows on the floor and tosses it at Noah. "Shut the fuck up, bro."

  Without saying a word I hustle out of there and to our back bedroom before either one of them says anything to me. I have a problem some would call diarrhea of the mouth. I don't think before I say things. Like what I just said about Caleb not being able to grow facial hair, that's a thought that should have stayed in my head, but instead I opened my big mouth and blurted it to Noah. I just have to remember not to say something like that in front of anyone else. I don't want to embarrass Caleb.

  Thank God, it was only Noah.

  Our bedroom door is open and I can hear th
e two of them laughing hysterically. Men can get over things so much faster than most women can. The two of them will finish laughing and shooting insults at each other, then team up together to kill something on Caleb's video game system.

  As predicted their laughter dies down and I can hear their conversation perfectly. "Long night at work?"

  "You have no idea, Noah. Sometimes I wish my biggest problem was customers not paying their tab or touching one of the dancers."

  Poor Caleb. These long hours are killing him.

  "You want to order a pizza or something?" Noah asks and I can hear him moving around in the other room.

  "Dude, order two. I'm starving. The only thing I've had all evening is a strawberry and coconut smoothie from the place around the corner from my firm."

  Hmm. I guess that explains the coconut I smelled on him earlier.

  Not wanting to hear any more of their conversation, I shut the bedroom door and crawl into bed, the metal bed frame squeaks as I move to get comfortable. It's been a long day, and tomorrow will be even longer because I work another shift at the coffee house and I have to be there at five am.

  Being a barista does have its perks, though. I know how to make hundreds of types of coffee, so I can make them at home whenever I feel like it, and I can drink as much free coffee as I want when I'm at work.

  When I peer over at the clock I realize I can still get three hours of sleep before I have to wake up. It's not ideal, but I can take a nap tomorrow afternoon after I walk Ms. Jericho’s dogs. All I have to do is close my eyes and shut down my mind.

  That's all.

  I can do this...

  I can't do this. Every time I close my eyes, my memory brings me back to an hour ago, when I was on the couch and Noah was on top of me. Why can't I just forget about this? It was a few seconds that meant absolutely nothing. We were just goofing around. So what if my nipples got hard and he got excited?

  The only thing that might help me right now is eight inches long, vibrates, and is tucked underneath the mattress. If I give myself the release my body so desperately needs I might be able to fall asleep, but I can't do it. Masturbating right now would feel like cheating on Caleb because Noah is the one who got me all hot and bothered.