Page 48 of Just My Type
Noah leans in and kisses one of my cheeks. The other. My forehead. His breath hot against my skin. “Unless you say no, I’m going to kiss my wife. Are you saying no, Hannah?”
I couldn’t, even if I tried.
“Kiss me.”
And he does.
Noah kisses the corner of my mouth, then the other. He brushes his lips against mine, softly, teasingly, like we have all the time in the world. He sighs against my lips, like he’s been waiting for this forever, and I have the strangest feeling that I have too. Pulling back, his eyes meet mine, search mine, like he’s looking for something, and I don’t know if he finds it or not, but the look in his eyes has a shiver working its way down my spine.
“Hannah.”
My name has never sounded the way it does coming from his mouth. Like a plea. Like I’m the answer to every question. And then he’s sliding his other hand to the back of my neck, tipping my head back as he seals his mouth over mine. I curl my fingers into Noah’s T-shirt, opening for him when he strokes his tongue over my bottom lip. My stomach swoops and swirls, heat exploding in my belly as his tongue licks into my mouth to taste. To plunder. To devour.
A groan rumbles from his chest, and I feel it everywhere. All I can think isthis,this,this. This is what it feels like to be kissed. To be wanted. To be desired. It occurs to me, up here high in the sky, with Noah’s soft lips on mine and his hands angling my head to hold me exactly where he wants me, that I’ve never felt it before.
Except then I realize I have.
In a flash, I’m not at the top of a Ferris wheel. I’m in the dark hallway at the back of a Vegas karaoke bar, pressed against the concrete wall. Noah is hard against my stomach and his mouth is on mine in a kiss that tastes like whiskey and sin.
Then and now tangle together. I know, and I think he does too.
Noah pulls back and we stare at each other. His lips are wet and the rise and fall of his chest matches mine.
“We’ve done this before.” He takes the words right out of my head and all I can do is nod. “That night,” he says, tunneling his fingers deeper into my hair. “At the karaoke bar.”
“You remember too.”
“Suddenly I remember a lot of things,” he says, his voice low, his face close to mine.
“What else?” I’m both afraid to ask and dying to know.
“I remember that I’d never tasted anything as sweet as your lips. I remember thinking that I wanted to kiss you forever. I’m thinking the same thing now.”
“Me too,” I whisper, the truth of it searing through my veins.
“I remember thinking I wanted to do a lot more than kiss you. I want to do a lot more than kiss you right now.” I try and look away, but Noah’s firm hold on my neck keeps my eyes on him. “Eyes on me, Gorgeous. What happened in your head just now?”
“Nothing, it’s just that…it’s been a while for me.” It’s not a lie, but not the whole truth either. It hasn’t been that long since the night everything went to shit in terrifying fashion, but it’s been forever since it meant something. Maybe it’s never meant anything. Until now.
Noah looks at me with understanding eyes. “You told me something else that night.”
“Ugh, what?”
“Something about never having any orgasms. With…with your ex.” Noah makes a face like even the thought of Brett is horrid.
I close my eyes and groan, embarrassment heating my cheeks. “Drunk me is such a disloyal bitch.”
Noah laughs and waits until I open my eyes before he talks again. “Is it true?”
I shrug and think, what the hell. “Yeah. He sucked in bed. Like, was epically, terribly bad.”
Noah curses under his breath. “I want to erase the memory of that asshole from your brain.”
I snort out a laugh because, fat chance. “And how do you plan on doing that?”
Noah’s eyes flash with heat. “By giving you one orgasm for every single one you missed with him, and then hundreds more.”
Heat sears through me even as fear snakes its way down my spine because there’s one thing I haven’t told him. One thing I don’t want to tell him. Or anyone. Ever. “Right now?”
