Page 37 of Seven Night Stopover

He groaned under his breath and entered the large kitchen. He was sure shiny, expensive gadgets must have lined the countertops and every conceivable luxury had been provided. But Noah couldn’t see a thing beyond his lust haze as he blindly pulled open the fridge and eyed the neatly arranged silverware and plates of food. More than enough to sustain them for the next eighteen hours.

He picked up the nearest tray containing handmade finger food and set it on the countertop.

“Oh. Smoked salmon and cream cheese mini bagels. Love those.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Great. Would you mind grabbing?—”

He gripped the edge of the counter so hard his bones screamed in agony.

While his back had been turned, she’d shed her puffer jacket and the bottom half of her ski pants. The long sleeve thermal shirt molded her small breasts so perfectly that saliva flooded his mouth. His gaze dropped to the black leggings clinging to her taut, shapely thighs and legs, and he groaned again under his breath.

She stopped in the process of grabbing the plates from where they’d been stacked on the counter. “Noah, are you okay?”

He speared a hand through his hair. Thought about cracking a joke to avoid the stark truth. Then decided against it. She needed to know who she was dealing with.

“Hell, no. I can’t look at a surface in this place without imagining you spread across or over it and me fucking you intooblivion on it. So no, I’m not okay. But I’m trying to take it slow for you.”

Her eyes widened. “For me? Why?”

He laughed. “You’re nervous. I thought doing something mundane like eating a meal and talking might set you a little at ease.”

“At ease. Before you devour me?” Her breath hitched at the end, like she was having a hard time breathing.

He laughed. The sound came out rough and alien. “Shit, am I being that obvious?”

“A little. Okay… a lot.”

“Fuck.” He grimaced and shut his eyes.

“But… that’s not why I’m nervous.”

He raised his head. “What is it?”

She traced a finger absently over the hard countertop. He wanted that finger tracing his skin so badly he locked his knees to stop from launching himself over the aisle and grabbing her.

“That thing I promised on top of the mountain?”

“Yes,” he croaked, his gaze dropping to the lips she’d worried until they were now plump and pink. “I remember.”

“I don’t think I can do it…”

Crap. He barely stopped himself from cursing as a healthy percentage of his fantasies evaporated into thin air. “You don’t have to do it if it’s not your thing.”

“No, I didn’t mean that. I meant I’ve never actually… done it before.” The odd inflection in her tone made him pause.

Noah understood nuance. Hell, he’d had to learn very quickly when he set up his business and realized dealing with billions of dollars meant catering to egos that could test even the saintliest temperament. And after ten years at the top of his game, he could spot the trickiest opponents who thought they could test how far to push his resolve a mile away.

But he couldn’t grasp the nuance slapping him in the face.

He’d played his fingers thoroughly between her thighs last night, explored her sweet pussy so expertly he could close his eyes and recall exactly how she felt.

Except he’d pulled back before enjoying her as fully as he’d wanted to.“Jesus, sweetheart, please don’t tell me you’re avirgin?” Another soul-destroying dose of erotic images vanished. He clutched the counter harder, the pain of knowing he’d have to walk away almost debilitating.

“No, I’m not.”

His breath rushed out in thankful relief as elation flooded his system. He swallowed down his roar of joy. “Are you sure?”

Her face tightened. “Is that a serious question?”

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