Page 47 of The Photo
I haven’t eaten much lately.
I don’t sleep well at night.
I’ve no motivation to pose for any camera.
And in a last ditch of desperation, I took my sister's advice and chugged a few units of alcohol to pluck up the courage to venture back to my apartment.
“Noah.” She scoots back, resting her palms on her thighs. “Did you do—”
I cut her off because she looks torn up. That’s not my intention. “Let’s play a game,” I suggest and sink to the floor to face her. Half of me wants to fuck the truth out of her, and the other half just wants to hold her.
Her lashes flutter, and a cute wrinkle dents her forehead. I’d love to kiss it, but I don’t. “A game?” she asks.
“A game of truth or fuck,” I reply calmly. “You ask me questions all night, and I’ll answer them, or we can fuck on the bed, fuck in the shower, fuck on the floor, fuck on the couch and wherever else I see fit. That sort of game.” She exhales, twirling hair around her finger. “What will it be, Rowan?”
“Is this break up sex?”
“Break up—technically, we didn’t break up, unless that's what you want?” She can’t break up with me. I won’t let her.
Her head shakes, and she nips her bottom lip. “Make up sex then?” she offers.
“Have you decided whether it’s truth or fuck?” I raise both eyebrows in question, dodging her sex labels. This could be make a baby sex or make a wedding date sex for all I care. Either would be fine.
“Well,” she begins. “Believe it or not, I do trust you, so let’s skip the truth and move straight to the fucking.”
“All the fucking,” I echo her decision. “At least we agree on that.” She sucks in a breath, and I watch goosebumps break over her pearly skin. “Are you wet?”
She nods and shuffles forward. “Yes.”
“Stand up,” I instruct. My erection is painful. It’s so hard I could hook a concrete block off it. I’ve done the lonely hand job release, now I want to see my girl play with herself.
When she stands, I drag my palms over my face, aware I’m the one kneeling at her feet now. And there’s my truth—I worship her.
“Part your legs. Play with yourself like I’m on the screen in front of you. Get even wetter.” A finger roams from her navel to her neat mound, and I watch her tremble. The smell of her musky arousal is fresh and feminine, so fucking sexy.
Rowan obeys my order. She hisses when her feet move, and I glance down. A tube of material hugs her ankle. She’s hurt. Then my eyes flick to her opposite ankle, and it’s missing one major detail.
I scramble to stand and point. “Where is it?” I demand. “You took it off?” My voice breaks, and my head feels woozy.
“What happened to all the fucking?” Hands rest on her hip bones. “Have you changed your mind?” she taunts, eyes flaming. “The chain is getting mended.”
“What happened to your ankle, Rowan?” I growl. “We’re playing truth now, forget anything else.”
“No!” she blusters.
“No?”
“Yeah—no. I mean, you don’t get to change your mind now, mister.” She stabs the air with a finger.
“That was before I sawthat.” I frown, suddenly mindful that she’s favoring one foot over the other. How the fuck did I miss an ugly bandage. “It’s not always about sex, Rowan,” I snarl, angry at my selfishness. “You’re wounded, and I want to know what else I’ve missed.”
Her hands hover over the fleshy curve of her belly, and she sighs. “I trust you. You trust me. So can we just cut to all fucking, Noah? I’ve been without you for too long.”
I step into her and slide a hand around the back of her neck, leaning into her face. She stops breathing. “Tomorrow, the game changes, Rowan. Tomorrow, it will be all the truths. Every single one,” I whisper. “Including how much I’ve missed you.” She is so warm and inviting. Her long exhale heats my neck, and my hard-on jerks. “For now, I’ll do my best to show you.”
I hug her into my chest, glide my palms to her rounded buttocks and squeeze. Rowan moans. So sweet. So seductive. I love that sound. In one swoop, I hike her up and support her ass. She swiftly responds and wraps her legs around my hips. I carry her to the bed, drowning in her eyes. There’s so much I want to say.
We tumble to the sheets, and her hips instantly flex into me. “It’s way better in real time, don’t you think?” she murmurs. “I enjoyed our secret sex shows every evening.” She sighs when my lips land on her tits, and her back arches. “But I need to feel you inside so much, it hurts,” she moans.
