Page 278 of Labor of Love

“All what?” He took a sip of his drink and closed his eyes. I did the same, the cool, creamy, tart liquid sliding over my tongue. I couldn’t hold back a small moan of pleasure. Goddamn that was good. Betty had told me to get out and see the sights, but she should have told me to get to the bar for one of these cocktails.

I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes until I opened them to find Noah staring at me. His eyes tracked the movement of my tongue as I licked the graham cracker crumbs away, and when our eyes met, his were full of heat. At least I thought they had been. For a minute it looked like he was going to lean in and lick the remaining crumbs away himself, but then he blinked and the expression was gone.

Maybe it had never been there to begin with.

Noah and I had just met. There was no way he’d been about to kiss me, and why was I even thinking about kissing when I had a gallery to get ready?

Then I remembered the way Noah’s arms had felt around me when he’d saved me from toppling off the edge of the dock, the way my heart had hammered against my ribs, the way my pulse had picked up until I felt lightheaded, the instant feeling that I was where I was supposed to be wrapped up in his embrace. And god, he’d smelled so damn good—the citrusy, bright bergamot that told me he was an alpha mixed with salt and sunshine. I wanted to bottle up his scent and wear it like cologne.

Maybe Noah had felt all that too.

Or maybe I was making it all up.

But that didn’t explain why the brush of his arm against mine as we reached for our drinks made my cock twitch and my skin beg for more of Noah’s touch. Preferably on purpose and while we were both wearing a lot fewer clothes.

Noah was gorgeous, all broad-shouldered and well-muscled with washboard abs—he’d been shirtless when we met, and I couldn’t help but stare—and sun-kissed good looks. His lightly wavy, dark hair was a little long, and I’d noticed in just the short time we’d known each other that he had a habit of tucking it behind his ear. I wanted to run my fingers through the strands. I wanted to pull his hair while he worked my cock into his throat and swallowed around my length. I felt the smallest trickle of slick leak from my hole, and I squirmed in my seat, breaking myself from my thoughts as Noah licked his lips. I wondered if he could smell my arousal even over all the other scents in the bar.

I wondered if he would do anything about it.

He cleared his throat, and we both turned back to our drinks, pointedly not looking at each other. Luckily, the low lighting and the overhang of the bar top hid my lap and the erection pressing against my zipper from view. My cheeks felt hot, and I hoped the low lighting hid that reaction too.

Noah slid his arm along mine as he lifted his drink to his mouth, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he took a swallow, my mind immediately going back to his hair gripped in my hands and his mouth on my dick.

What the actual fuck was wrong with me? I hadn’t been this horny outside of a heat for years. Maybe I was just reacting to the fact that Noah had saved me. Maybe this was some sort of weird hero worship since he hadn’t let me drown. Or maybe six months was too long to go without sex. Marco and I had brokenup not long after my last heat. Secretly, I wondered if that last heat had been the real nail in the proverbial coffin of our relationship. Marco had said I’d been too needy, begging for his knot repeatedly, that I’d wanted him to tell me how good I was for him and how good he felt inside me, that he was going to fill me with his cubs. He’d told me it made him uncomfortable, and I’d been mortified.

But even as my cheeks flamed red hot remembering my embarrassment, I somehow knew Noah wouldn’t be like that. I barely knew more than his name, but there was something about him that set me at ease. Well, set everything but my dick at ease. The imprint of the zipper that was no doubt permanently marking the head of my dick would vehemently argue that that particular part of my anatomy was in fact decidedly not relaxed.

Another brush of Noah’s arm against mine made me shiver.

“Are you cold? Mags keeps the air conditioning set to walk-in freezer. I think I have a sweatshirt or at least a long-sleeved T-shirt in my car if you want it.”

The offer was sweet, and as much as I wanted to be wrapped up in Noah’s scent, with as on edge as I suddenly felt, I wasn’t sure that was a good idea. I was already borderline obsessed with his scent. Besides, I wasn’t cold. The air conditioning felt amazing.

I opened my mouth to tell Noah I was fine, but that wasn’t what came out. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

My hand flew to my mouth, and I wanted to claw the words back, but unless someone had managed to invent a time machine and decided to show up in Key West at that exact moment with the sole purpose of helping me to not ask stupid questions, there was no help for it.

Noah studied my face, and my heart did a back handspring in my chest. “Uh, no. I’ve actually been in a little bit of a slump when it comes to dating.” His gaze dropped to my lips again,and my heart gave up on floor exercise and headed straight to the vault, rising into my throat then spiraling end over end into my stomach. “I feel like my luck might be changing in that department.” His hand rested on my thigh, and the heat from his touch spiraled out from the simple point of contact until it felt like my whole body was on fire.

I wanted Noah more than I’d ever wanted anything, and that scared the shit out of me. I had moved to Key West to start a new life, to make my own way, not to jump into a relationship with the first gorgeous man I met. I needed to get my head on straight, so I covered Noah’s hand with mine and looked into his eyes and cleared my throat. “Can I take you up on your offer to be my local tour guide? I’d really like to be friends.”

Noah’s face fell a little, and he slid his hand off my leg. He glanced away, but when he looked back, his warm sunshiny smile was back in place. “Of course. It would be my pleasure.”

After that, we both seemed to make it a point not to let our arms touch as we reached for our drinks, and as much as I hated it, I knew it was what needed to be done. Noah and I made small talk until Magnus delivered our food, then we ate in companionable silence while I regretted almost all my life choices, but especially telling Noah that I only wanted to be friends. I wanted to take it back, but I knew I couldn’t. I needed to focus. I needed to succeed. I needed to make Key West feel like home, and I couldn’t risk any of those things on a guy I just met.

As we ate, I looked around the bar, taking in the tiny details and little nuances of the space. Magnus had art on the walls, and several pieces caught my attention. I cocked my head to the side, studying one piece in particular that hung behind the bar. It was a painting of a walrus swimming around what looked like a tropical reef with small brightly colored fish following in the walrus’s wake. The painting was done as a cross section of theocean so the viewer could see the surface of the water and the reef, and dotted along the top of the painting were icebergs. It was an interesting dichotomy, and the detail within the painting was impeccable.

Noah followed my gaze and saw what I was looking at and smiled.

“Do you know who painted that?” I couldn’t look away as I asked the question.

“Matteo Marsh. He lives here in Key West.”

The artist was local? Could I really be that lucky? “Do you know if he is contracted with a gallery already?”

“Uh, I don’t know, but I could probably find out. His husband, Charlie, owns a tour boat company, and I see him down at the marina all the time. I could ask him.”

“Would you? That would be amazing. I love his style and I’d love to meet him.” My mind was already spinning through how I would display his work if it all had the same vibe.

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