When August Ends(45)

“The famous Noah Cavallari is going to photograph me? I feel so special,” she teased. “Seriously, this is cool.”

Seeing the smile on her face made me wonder why I hadn’t thought of this sooner.

Once outside, I showed her where to stand but didn’t have to tell her what to do. She was a natural in front of the camera, smiling organically and laughing as I snapped away. The remaining sunlight cast a glow around her blond locks.

At one point, her hair was in her face, so I reached out to move it to the side and noticed my hand fucking shaking. I was seriously losing my marbles.

After I’d stopped taking photos, Heather asked, “Will you send them to me?”

My mind was still in a haze. “What?”

“The photos. Will you email me some?”

Nodding, I said, “Yeah, of course.”

“Are you alright, Noah? You seem out of it.”

“I’m fine.”

She looked back toward the main house. “I have to go. He’s gonna be here any minute.”

What are you doing letting her go out with this guy?

“I’ll see you later,” she said. “Thank you for taking the photos.”

She lingered even though she’d said she had to go. She was waiting for me to say something. But I couldn’t find the words.

We stood there on the porch facing each other until she stammered, “Have a nice night.”

Despite how much I wanted to stop her, I let her walk away.

The farther she got from me, the more I just felt…sick.

Suddenly, it seemed like the switch that had been controlling my sanity flipped.

“Hey!” I shouted.

She turned around. “Yeah?”

“Come here.”

She walked back until she was in front of me again.

“Why did you put your panties in my laundry?” I asked.

Her face turned as red as her dress. At a loss for words, she muttered, “I…uh…”

Taking a few steps forward, I stopped just inches from her. “If you knew how much it affected me, you wouldn’t have done it.”

She leaned in, just a hair away from my face. “I wanted to get a rise out of you. I wanted to send you a message without having to say it.”

I could feel her breath on my face.

Placing my hand on her cheek, I said, “You’re so fucking honest.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “I can’t help it.”

I looped a piece of her hair around my finger. “You could have just said they accidentally fell in.”

Her breath was shaky. “Yeah, but that would have defeated the purpose. I wanted you to have them. And I wanted you to think of me in them.”

My breath hitched as I pulled on her hair. “Christ, Heather. You don’t think I feel the same things you do? You think I’m superhuman, that it’s easy to resist you? I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

“I wish you would stop trying.”

The scotch must have gone to my head, because I asked, “You want to know what I did with those panties?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I put them over my face to smell you. I couldn’t get enough. Then I wrapped them around my cock while I jerked off and came all over them. I got so angry at myself for doing it, that I ripped them to shreds. That’s how crazy you make me.”

Her chest rose and fell. “I knew you wanted me.”

I gritted my teeth. “I never said I didn’t want you. Did I? Not once. I wish I didn’t want to fuck you.”

Her breathing was heavy. “Let me taste the scotch.”

“I said you can’t have any.”

“I don’t want you to pour me one. I want to taste it on your tongue.”

Fuck. Me.

That sentence obliterated the last resistance I had. I gripped her waist and pulled her into me, giving her exactly what we both wanted. My lips smashed against hers before my tongue sought entry.

Her hot, hungry mouth was everything I’d ever imagined it to be, the moans emanating from it making me so rock hard that my dick physically hurt, aching for more.

I kissed her harder as she worked to keep up with the pace. Neither of us broke away long enough to even breathe.

Heather’s fingers raked through my hair as I devoured her mouth. I didn’t even recognize the damn sounds I was making, the sounds of a long starvation finally satisfied. Anyone who drove by would have seen me practically attacking her, and I didn’t care.

Her lips, her mouth, her tongue tasted so good I thought I might never come up for air. I ran my hands through her soft, silky hair. It felt surreal. But this was wrong. So damn wrong. I was stealing something I had no right to, but fuck if I knew how to stop. Nothing had ever felt this good. It took everything in me not to carry her inside the boathouse and take everything else, too. I knew she’d give me whatever I wanted. And that scared the hell out of me.

As if she’d read my mind, she spoke over my lips, “I want to feel you inside of me, Noah.”

Her words were like a slap in the face, a reality check.

You have no right to do this.

I pried myself off of her. It felt unnatural—downright painful—to pull away when all I wanted was to disappear into her. But nevertheless, I somehow managed to do it.