Page 51 of Spell Ya Later

Too much fabric. There are too many barriers between us. I want skin.

I need skin.

My fingers steal under his t-shirt, bunching the fabric underneath his arms until it won’t go any higher without his assistance.

He breaks away to rip the shirt off and pull mine off with his, just to return moments later.

A moment of insecurity at being exposed like this threatens to overwhelm me, but he grounds me. “You’re beautiful. So beautiful, Hazel.”

Then he nuzzles his nose against mine and takes my lips again.

I suck on his bottom lip, pulling the kiss-swollen flesh into my mouth as my hands roam over new territory. His chest is dusted with dark brown hair that tapers as it travels down his chest to his toned abdomen, to disappear into his jeans.

Obviously they have to go, too, if I’m going to follow that trail.

I should feel inexperienced. I shouldn’t know what to do. But Noah guides me in an effortless way, allows me to explore and find what feels good.

His hands haven’t been idle. He’s grasping at whatever part of my body he can reach. One moment he’s tangling his fingers in my hair, the next he’s bruising my hips with his grip.

I want to press against those sore spots tomorrow, loving the reminder of his desperation. How much he wants me. I want to leave my own marks.

“You’re delicious,” he murmurs against my lips. “Up.”

He grasps the back of my thighs as I jump into his arms.

A fresh wave of heat floods my body at the action. That washot.He drags me deeper into the apartment and deposits me on the kitchen island. The height makes it so much easier to get my hands all over him.

My legs wrap tightly around his waist, pulling him closer. Chest to chest, I heave for every breath. The air is thick and my head is fuzzy.

Big hands drag up my back until they reach my bra. With a deftness I’m bowled over by, he flicks my bra open and drags it down my shoulders.

The entire world is still in this moment—the moment Noah sees me for the first time. The moment anyone sees me for the first time. I attempt to lift my arms to cover myself, but he shakes his head. Puts my arms back around him.

With the same awe and reverence he always has for me, he runs the tip of his finger along my collarbone and down the middle of my chest.

“Hazel, you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen.” He says it so obviously, as if there was never another option. As if there never will be another option.

And I believe him.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I reply. I have to force some levity into the situation, force away the stinging in my eyes from his sincerity.

If I don’t, I’ll fall in love.

He cups my breast suddenly, squeezing just right. My head falls back as his dips forward to take my nipple in his mouth. I gasp as his teeth graze the very tip.

I’m a liquid puddle of need.

“Noah,” I beg.

Two black eyes meet mine. The sight of him with his lips wrapped around me stops whatever train of thought I had.

A smirk is his only response. Cheeky son of a bitch.

His fingers pluck at the button of my jeans, but he stops before unzipping. Why has he stopped?

I lift my hips to encourage him, practically ripping my jeans off for him. He pulls them off my legs and kisses my ankle, slowly traveling up my skin.

Each kiss is an electric shock to my core. I’m shuddering by the time he reaches the top of my thigh.