Page 49 of Stolen Kisses
Chapter 11
Krista yawned as she rolled over in her bed, drawing her covers more snugly to her body. Or trying to. The cover pulled back, which caused her to crack an eye and blink into the dark room. She could see from the casts of shadows that this wasn’t her bedroom. Memories of the night before slowly slipped into the forefront of her mind. She was in the Sawyer cabin. With Noah. And…
Oh, my God.
Krista rolled over to see that Noah was the one pulling back on the covers. He was asleep, breathing heavily beside her. She went up on one elbow to see him better in the dark. Her heart pitter-pattered forcefully against her ribs. She couldn’t bring herself to regret anything they’d done only a few hours ago. She glanced at the clock blinking in the dark. Actually only two hours ago. They’d had sex—lots of sex—and it’d been amazing and incredible and completely unexpected. Then they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms.
Feeling the pressure of her bladder, Krista quietly rolled out of bed, surprised at how cold the cabin was at night. The mountains were a few degrees cooler than Blushing Bay, but it felt like tens of degrees cooler. She tiptoed down the hall in her bare feet to the second bathroom, not wanting to wake Noah. She needed a glass of water, too. Their nighttime activities had made her more than a little thirsty. And hungry, she thought, as her stomach clenched. They’d never gotten around to having dinner. Not that she’d minded. No, she’d preferred what they’d done instead.
After relieving herself, Krista made her way back to the kitchen to get a glass, then screamed as she went plowing into a hard body standing in front of her.
Noah’s arms gripped her as stumbled backward. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said in a whisper, even though it was only the two of them in the cabin. “I heard you get out of bed and came to make sure you were okay.”
Terror melted into this warm, fuzzy, gooey feeling inside her chest. “I’m okay. And I’m the one who woke you, so I’m the one who should be sorry.”
He was only a dark shadow in the kitchen. But with her visual sense masked, her other senses awakened. He smelled like sex. It was an unmistakable scent. They both did, matter of fact. And there was a heat radiating off his bare chest. She could feel it, was drawn to it. “I’m thirsty. I was going to get a glass of water,” she told him.
“I’ll get it for you.” Noah reached for the switch on the wall and they both grimaced at the sudden blinding light. “Sorry,” he said again, heading to the cabinet. He pulled down a glass and opened the fridge to pull out a bottled water.
“I’m actually starving,” he said, reading her mind. “Want me to warm up my stew that we never got around to eating?” He glanced over his shoulder and winked at her.
She didn’t see any signs of regret on his face, which was a relief. She didn’t want him to regret what they’d done. They’d been two consenting adults and they could deal with the ramifications. Hopefully. “Yeah. I’m hungry, too.”
She watched him move, shivering as she sat in a chair at the kitchen table with her knees curled to her chest. All she was wearing was Noah’s oversized T-shirt. All he was wearing was his boxers. She shivered again.
A few minutes later, he placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of her. His brows knit with concern. “You’re freezing. I’ll build a fire.”
“No, you don’t have to. You’re hungry, too.”
He shrugged. “I can wait. I’m used to being on a boat long past hunger. I’ll go grab a few logs that I chopped earlier.” Without allowing her time to respond, he disappeared out the back door.
Is he concerned or avoiding me?she suddenly wondered, feeling a little panicked.
A moment later, he returned, placed the logs in the fireplace, and started a fire. Heading back to the table, he wore an easy smile and sat beside her instead of in front this time. He pulled his bowl close to him. “There. Now we’ll be warmandsatisfied.” A mischievous little spark lit his brown eyes. He’d made sure she was fully satisfied earlier in the night, but that didn’t keep her from hungering for him again. If the look he was giving her was any indication, he was hungering for her as well.
They ate their bowls of soup quietly. Ornotso quietly. Noah had an annoying habit of slurping his soup. He always had, and it had always driven her batty. She tried to tune it out. It was a good distraction from wondering if he was going to return to her bed, or if they’d take separate beds this time. If they were going to be digging into that box of condoms again—the ones that had fully delivered on their promise to add to her pleasure.
Krista’s cheeks heated at the memory.
“Warmer now?” he asked.
She must have had a blush crawling over her skin. “Yep. Much.” She set her spoon down and watched as he picked up his bowl and drank the last remains. Just like a big kid. Or a caveman, she thought, unable to keep from laughing.
“Don’t laugh. I was raised in a house full of men. There were no women around to tell me that it was rude.”
“But yet you seem to know it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be defending your behavior.”
Noah winked. Then he wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood. He tipped his head toward the living room. “Wanna go sit by the fire?”
She nodded, disappointed a little bit that he didn’t reach out and grab her hand. But why would he? They weren’t a couple. She wasn’t even sure what they were anymore.
She followed him and sat a comfortable distance away from him on the couch, unsure of whether their usual friendly distance applied out of the bedroom.
“Why are you way over there?” he asked, reaching for her and pulling her to him.
Those warm, gooey, feelings returned in full force. Her body pressed against his and his hand settled on her mid-thigh. He squeezed lightly as they stared into the fire. Then his hand inched upward. She sucked in a sharp breath, held it, waiting to see what happened next. His movements were slow, deliberate, almost as if they were asking a question.
Turning her head, she looked up into his eyes. Earlier had been a mistake.Right?Or maybe it was the first time in a while that they’d gotten things right between them. Her breath seemed to suspend inside her. Then, disregarding all her contradictory thoughts, she leaned in and pressed her mouth into his, answering that unspoken question in the air between them because oh, yeah, she wanted him again. It wasn’t even midnight yet. If this were a Cinderella story, she wanted to squeeze every drop of pleasure out before the clock struck twelve and she turned back into just “one of the guys.”
