Page 19 of The Photo
When you die, your past life flashes before your eyes, but right at this moment, on the cusp of passion, my future unravels before me like a vision. This one kiss has bound me to Noah, now and forever.
I push enthusiastic hip bones into him, noting how solid and manly his chest is with my palms. That nudge of surrender turns his tenderness wild. Firm hands secure my head, deepening the pressure.
My fingers curl around his jersey top, fisting soft material like I’m crazed. I want this man more than I can tolerate, and the needy moan I pour into him only hardens his pursuit. With a nip and tug, he slows the pace again, until our lips are no longer united.
Noah stares down at me, smearing our taste across my lips with his adventurous thumb. He lifts it to his mouth and licks. I automatically lean into him, wishing his touch hadn’t left.
“Why did you let me walk away earlier, if you wanted to do that?” I thoughtlessly mirror him, touching my lips, shocked and dazed.
His eyes blaze. “Because you’re even more beautiful in person.” He sweeps my hair back from my shoulders. “Because you were in a rush.” A lazy grin dances on his mouth. “Because I knew where to find you.”
The building pressure in my panties is torture. I’m almost grinding on his leg just to ease the throbbing. “How did you know I was in this hotel?”
Noah tips his mouth to my ear. “You checked yourself in.”
“You saw that?” My voice is barely audible, my eyelids heavy with lust. “Are you stalking me?” I laugh and wrinkle my nose.
Drawing back, he glances sideways and then cuts back to me. “We have company. Someone is staring at us like we’re in the zoo.” He takes a step away, and the heightened awareness of him vanishes. I lower down from tip toes.
“Chelsea.” I hold my stomach, feeling dizzy and delirious.
Chelsea stands with palms to cheeks, open-mouthed and her brow creased with bemusement. “Is this who I think it is?” she says super slowly.
“Shhhh!” I caution. “Say nothing. Everyone will hassle him if they find out he’s here.”
“But heishere, Rowan.” Her disbelief slides from Noah to me and then back to Noah. “How is he here? And more to the point, why was he kissing you?”
I have no answer for that. Noah’s sexy chuckle buzzes inside me. I peep up at him, hardly able to believe it myself.
Those dark lashes compliment the dust of stubble, the same prickles that have left a delightful burn on my chin. I’m either dead or upstairs in the hotel room in a time zone wormhole where dreams come true. Noah has literally shoved my world into the Bermuda Triangle. It will never be the same again.
His hand reaches out. “Nice to meet you, Chelsea.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes, and he addresses her with a roguish smile. “I bumped into Rowan earlier,” he says.
“Quite literally, from what I hear.” Her throat bobs like it's out of control. There’s no questioning it, she’s completely taken by him too. She inspects the donut in her fingers and stuffs her other hand into her trouser pocket.
“Would you guys lock lips again, so I can take a photo?” she asks suddenly. “It’s not every day your best friend plays tonsil tennis with a famous dude.”
“No!” I mutter under my breath. “Don’t bethatperson.”
Her nose wrinkles. “What person?”
“Chelsea,” I scold, tilting my head when she retrieves her phone from her jeans. “Put it away.” My eyes widen and release in a silent warning.
There must be some unspoken famous person etiquette or code to follow in these situations. The last thing I need is my bestie chasing Noah away.
“Put it away,” Chelsea repeats casually, like the penny has dropped. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that we have to attend a boring dinner thing at six-thirty, and then I was going to suggest we go for drinks.” Her accepting wide eyeballs flick up to meet mine. “With this happening—” She shimmies her leftover donut in the air from Noah’s head to his groin. “I’m begging you, please don’t leave me alone with Sam for the night.”
My arms hang loose, unsure if I should touch him again. I’m aware of his intense stare, quietly observing my every move. I’m dreading the second I snap awake to find myself in bed with drool and a hot sweat, and no Noah Adams?
“I can take you guys to a couple of bars, if that's what you had in mind?” he suggests. “I’ll be your very own Canadian tour guide.”
“Woo hoo!” Chelsea donut pumps the air. “That’s exactly what we love–pints and penis,” she cackles. “Sorry. I meant peanuts. We love pints and peanuts.”
Omigod, I can’t take her anywhere. Noah chuckles. He’s either humoring her, or he thinks my humiliation is hilarious. “Which do you prefer, Rowan?” he asks me with a straight face.
Oh fuck. This guy. My cheeks flame. “I like peanuts,” I confirm. However, I’d happily test his penis and give him an informed ranking.
Noah hooks his thumb in my belt and jerks me into him. “Is that so? Peanuts?” He offers a smirk.
