Don't Let Go(54)

God, he was glorious. I wanted to lick every inch of his torso, but my current position under him didn’t allow that, so I settled for a shoulder as my hands kneaded his back. I didn’t get much of that, however, as he was on a mission. Torturing me in a delicious rhythm, Noah dragged his mouth down my neck back to my breasts, lifting my tank top and sinking his face between them. His mouth made love to my cleavage while he pushed between my legs in a slow pulsing tease. My little black leggings and his sweatpants didn’t provide much in the way of restriction, so the mock lovemaking had me gasping for breath within minutes.
His fingers worked one thigh up and down until he’d cup my ass and grind himself into me. It was insane, the power he had over my senses. He had me almost blind with desire, digging my nails into his back with each thrust. Then he moved down, kissing my belly and untying my bunched up skirt in seconds, following his hands with his mouth as he pulled off my leggings in one move and kissed his way back up one thigh.
“Mmm, Jules,” he murmured against my skin.
I arched and grabbed his head as he lingered over my lacy panties, his hot breath on the fabric nearly finishing me off.
“Noah,” I breathed, barely able to form the words. “Please.”
He could have yanked them down and had his way with me, but he didn’t. Instead, he made the trip back up, kissed the inside of each breast, and then moved to suck a nipple through the straining fabric of my bra, grabbing my leg and pushing himself against me again.
I groaned and moved with him, feeling him tremble against me.
“Keep doing that,” I said between breaths. “And you’ll undo me. I’m so close.”
“I’ve been undone for three days,” he growled against my neck.
His next thrust put us face-to-face. His hands framed my face and his eyes bored into me with that look of his that turned my insides to mush. I was hopeless for him. Again. And I was ready to give him everything again. I raked my nails down his back to his ass, pulling him with me on the next one and sliding his sweatpants downward.
Just as his cell phone rang.
With “Love Shack.”

? ? ?

Everything froze.
Our eyes locked as the song played out, neither one of us moving a muscle, like that would hide us from the woman behind it. As it fell silent and reality seeped into every breath, there was a five-second moment when harsh awakenings landed hard. Noah closed his eyes and rested his forehead against mine, letting go of my leg as I pulled his pants back up and let my arms fall to the sides.
I was mortified.
We broke our own rules. I had given in, heart, mind, body and soul—again. To a man who wasn’t mine to give it to.
“I’m sorry,” Noah said, under his breath, not lifting his head. His skin was hot against mine, or maybe that was just me projecting my own shame.
My body still ached with frustration and didn’t want him to get up. I wanted to stay wrapped up in him. But more than that, my heart ached over the walls I’d let him knock down.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered. “I am not this person. I’m not this woman.”
Noah lifted his head from mine and rolled to the side, making me instantly chilled and vulnerable. I sat up and pulled my tank top down, scooting backward to lean against the back of the couch and pulling the afghan into my lap. Noah watched my movements with a narrowed gaze, leaning on one elbow.
“What woman would that be?” he asked, his voice low and controlled.
I covered my face with my hands. “One that sleeps with a pregnant woman’s future husband.” I shook my head. “I don’t do this. I don’t even almost do this.”
He sat up facing me and pulled a hand away, holding on to it.
“Is that all it felt like to you? Sex?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I was in a very different place.”
I closed my eyes and clenched my jaws tight to fend off the hurt in my chest. Remembering the connection we’d just had and the total surrender of my heart, the tender places in there that hadn’t been touched in twenty-six years. My hand fisted at my stomach like I could hold it all in if I pushed hard enough.
“Yeah, that,” he said, putting his hand over mine, making me open my eyes to look into his. “That right there.”
“Noah,” I said, my voice choking on his name.
“I know.”
Minutes that felt like slow motion passed as we sat and breathed and wallowed in misery.
“She’s become my friend, Noah,” I said, wiping my face with the afghan.
“I know,” he said again. “And I feel like the world’s biggest f*cking prick right now. But it doesn’t change—” He closed his eyes and ran his free hand over his face, squeezing mine tighter. “It doesn’t change that I’ve thought of nothing but you since I got back to town, Jules. Last night, it was everything I could do not to pull you out of his arms on that dance floor.”
The memory of his eyes on me, raw and angry, made me swallow hard. I had to stay resilient.
“Shayna’s a good person,” I said, hearing the shake in my voice and begging God to take that away. I was tired of crying. I was tired of feeling weak. “She doesn’t deserve this.”
“I know.”
“Your baby doesn’t deserve this,” I managed to add, the words coming slow and deliberate. The burn fed through me and I prayed for the numbness to come. It had come before, it could do it again. “We have to live in this town together, Noah.”
He closed his eyes and nodded, looking beaten down.
“We can’t let this happen again,” I said, the last word having to be choked out.