When it comes to you, I’ll never be done.
I’ll always keep trying, I don’t have a choice. Without you, nothing else matters...
It’s barely daylight outside. The morning sun is pale and just starting to peek through the curtains. A glance at the clock on the nightstand tells me it’s barely five in the morning. Sometime during the night our positions shifted and Noah is on his back and I’m on my side, my head resting on his chest, my leg draped over one of his. His warm body fighting away the morning chill. I look up to find his eyes are closed and he’s still sleeping.
His words woke me up, however. They just keep replaying over and over in my head.
You’re not a fence I’m trying to mend.
You’re the reason I’m still breathing.
You’re everything, Gorgeous. Every. Fucking. Thing.
More keep coming. All words he gave me last night. All words I listened to, but words I was too hurt to truly listen to. I don’t have a choice this morning. They’re all swirling in my head like a broken melody, looking for someone to sing them.
You love Ryan and he loves you too. He belongs to you too, now.
Did he mean that? Does he have any idea what that means to me?
I wanted my child to always have the influence of a good woman’s touch, because I had never known that and I knew it was important.
If you let me in—if you let me just get my foot in the door, I swear that I will work my ass into the ground so that you never have a reason to regret it. I swear to Christ, Rory. I’ll never give you a reason to regret it.
The words keep coming and my body trembles. I slide away from Noah—just enough so I don’t disturb him. I try to shut them down, but all of it just keeps going around and around in my brain until I get to the one, that last night I didn’t take in at all. The one thing he said that I didn’t pay attention to at all.
I’m a fucking asshole, but I love you...
I loved you then, Rory. I love you more now.
Those words stick in my head now, and they don’t let me go.
Noah hurt me. He hurt me more than I thought was possible, more than King ever could—just because I never gave anyone what I gave Noah. But, can I really blame him for reacting the way he did? What man wouldn’t if he thought he took steps to prevent pregnancy—especially if women like Vicki were what he was exposed to? It doesn’t fix everything, but it goes a long way toward soothing the hurt.
I tilt my head so I can see Noah. He’s still asleep; his face, much paler than it was back in Montana, is at least peaceful. His dark lashes are fanned out, his hair still pulled back, but sleep has let some of it break free from its hold.
I love Noah. I’m pretty sure I will always love him. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. If King ever gets a hold of me again, I won’t have a tomorrow. He’ll kill me for taking Ryan away. Which is fair, because if I see him again, I’m going to try and kill him. He deserves to die and if I’m the one that sends him to hell… I won’t lose a minute of sleep over it.
I make up my mind. Maybe I’m doing something that is a huge mistake. Maybe I will regret it at some point, but right now… I want Noah. I want to be with him. I want… No. I need to feel his touch. I need his arms around me and his body on mine. I need him deep inside of me and just for a little while, I really need to pretend I’m whole again.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach down and find the drawstring to Noah’s gym pants, loosening it. I look up at him, expecting him to be looking at me. His head moves on the pillow, but he doesn’t wake. I’m glad. I think if he woke up, I’d lose my nerve. I’m able to maneuver so that I can get his pants down just a little. I want more, but I’ll take this. I’m just glad that he’s wearing this kind of pants, instead of jeans, during his recovery. I glance up at Noah’s face and he’s still asleep. His forehead has wrinkled and his lips move a little before he burrows a little more into his pillow. I smile, because in sleep he’s still sexy, but somehow, he still manages to pull off being cute too.
I slide my hand down into his pants. The heat I feel there makes me tremble and I want to groan as I encircle his shaft. I close my eyes from the pure pleasure of it. I never thought I’d be able to touch him again, even after finding out he was still alive I thought he was lost to me forever. Maybe that’s what makes this feel so special, but, for whatever reason, I’m grateful.
Noah is semi-hard and as my hand moves slowly up his heated shaft, I can feel him grow. His cock stretches, comes to life quickly, jerking in my hand as I squeeze him. I hear him above me, moaning. The sound is muffled and thick with sleep. I want to look up and see him, but I don’t—I’m afraid if I do, I’ll lose my nerve.
I swallow and the sound seems extra loud to my ears. My heart is racing, thumping hard against my chest, as I push his shirt up and kiss his stomach. The feel of his heated skin against my lips, the salty male taste is no different than I remember. It’s exactly the same and it feels like home. Memories flood my mind of each time we were together, of how beautiful it was, and they all serve as remembrances of the fact that I love this man so deeply that the love somehow altered my soul.
Words come back, yet again. They are blaring in my brain with their intensity—burning me.
When it comes to you, I’ll never be done.
I’ll always keep trying, I don’t have a choice.
Without you, nothing else matters...
I kiss down to his navel. Sliding my body down the bed, and letting my tongue flick against him, placing my kiss there.
“Rory,” Noah groans above me. I feel his hands come down. One to my shoulder, just lying against it as if it’s enough to just touch me—and it is. It’s another reminder that he’s here, that I’m here. His other hand comes to the back of my head, his fingers dive into my hair and contract in it. “Gorgeous.”
He breathes that one word, as if it is one long, broken exhale of breath, but there seems to be so much meaning behind it that it feels like my heart literally squeezes in my chest. I’ve always secretly loved that nickname. Probably because no one in my life ever made me feel beautiful until Noah. With him, the term gorgeous never feels fake. It feels like that’s how he really sees me—even now.
Now that I know he’s awake, even though I still don’t have the nerve to look at him, I give up trying to be careful and I push his pants down. Noah lifts up just enough so they slide below his hips and his cock is exposed in its naked beauty. It is beautiful too. Broad, thick and long, it’s the type of cock that ruins a woman for other men. I slide so that I’m exactly where I need to be. I take his cock back in my hand, stroking him firmly, my grip strong against his heated shaft. The head is glossy with his pre-cum. There’s a large vein running down the underside of his cock and I flatten my tongue against it. I can almost feel his pulse, as he somehow hardens even more, pushing against my tight grip. I lick him slowly and as I reach his slickened head, I moan at the taste of him.
This, I had forgotten. His taste, dark, musky, a little sweet, a little bitter and yet all combined to be something I craved at night, even when I tried to hate him. I let my tongue play against his head, dipping into the small opening and bringing more of his juices on the tip of my tongue. I greedily suck it down, pumping him with my hand to find more. I’m so lost in what I’m doing, I’m startled when Noah’s hold in my hair tightens and he pulls so that I’m forced to look up at him.
“Look at me, Gorgeous,” he whispers, his voice deep with hunger, comes out throaty and almost tortured. “If we do this, it means something.”
His words cause my heartbeat to accelerate. I’m not sure I’m ready for that, nor the implication that it means something to him. Panic is surging inside of me.
“It doesn’t have to, Noah. I’m not sure I want it to.” My words are quiet, but I can hear the fear laced in them and I’m sure that Noah does too. Maybe I should try to be brave, but I feel like I’ve had this fear inside of me for so long now that I’ll never be free from it.
“Maybe not, Rory. But it does to me. I love you, Sweetheart,” he tells me gently. His face a mix of softness and hunger.
I love you, Sweetheart.
More of his words to add to the hundreds that seem to be playing a refrain inside my head. My hand squeezes his cock tighter in reaction.
I can’t give him the words back. I feel them. I’ll always love him, but I can’t give them to him. Instead, I pull against his hold, and slide his cock deep in my mouth, groaning around it and losing myself in the pleasure of having him again.