Page 92 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

“Right here.” Noah nibbled the spot just below her belly button. “Something I could tease with my tongue.”

Annabelle clasped his head, wishing his hair was much longer so she could anchor herself with fistfuls of it. “Go a bit lower,” she said huskily. “You might find something else you can tease with your tongue.”

“My thoughts exactly.” He kissed his way down her stomach until his wicked mouth found juicier prey.

Annabelle gasped and threw back her head as her whole world centered on the tiny motions he made with his tongue. Her knees would have given way, making her crash to the bed, but Noah’s hands tightened on her hips, keeping her in place.

“You could get a piercing here,” he said gruffly before his mouth had better things to do than talk.

“Don’t. Even. Think. About.Oh!” Sweet, agonizing tension coiled inside her as her thoughts became dancing sparkles she couldn’t quite grasp.

Noah pressed in closer. Devouring her.

She tried to say something, anything, but the words were unintelligible. Her body shook, her muscles clenched. Everything teetered on the brink of a precipice. Waiting. Ready. Eager to fall. To jump. To…

A loud, guttural gasp rent the air as primed nerves exploded in a cascade of sensation. She toppled. Weak. Delirious. Panting and desperate for more. Strong arms lowered her to the mattress before Noah angled himself over her limp, sated body.

“I think we’re okay,” he said, satisfaction in his voice. “It’s all coming back to me.”

Oh. My.

She wasn’t going to survive.

Chapter Thirty

Noah woke, instantly alert, with Annabelle sprawled across him. It was still dark, and as much as he strained to hear what had woken him, the building remained silent. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he eased Annabelle off him and got out of bed. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and grabbed his gun—just in case.

He found the source of the disturbance in the loft. Therese’s ghostly form stood by Annabelle’s work desk, studying her artwork. She smiled at Noah as he approached.

“She draws beautifully.”

Noah didn’t want to discuss Annabelle’s art. “I’m sorry, Therese,” he said softly.

Her smile didn’t waver, but there was a tender sadness in her eyes.“For what? For sleeping with Annabelle?”

He grimaced. “Please tell me you weren’t watching?”

“Ew! No!”She silently glided over to the window.“I just know you. And you’ve nothing to be sorry about.”

Noah joined her by the window and looked out toward the ever-present lights of the downtown skyline. “I’m falling in love with her,” he confessed to the woman who’d always owned his heart. “But I still love you.”

“I know.”Therese bumped her hip against him, but he didn’t even feel the air move.

“It feels wrong somehow,” he admitted in a whisper. “But I can’t stop it.”

“It isn’t wrong, Noah. It’s how life should be. You can’t spend the rest of yours talking to a ghost; you need to live again. Really live. That’s what I want for you.”Her smile was bittersweet.“And you always gave me what I wanted, didn’t you?”

His heart clenched. “Unless it was insane.”

Her laughter was tinged with sadness and acceptance.“You have a big heart, honey. There’s plenty of space in it to love both of us. It doesn’t have to be one or the other. I don’t mind sharing with Annabelle.”

Noah’s throat tightened, making it difficult to swallow. “Will you still hang around?”

She turned to face him, so much love in her expression that it hurt to see it there. He blinked furiously, studying her face, drinking in the woman he’d loved for as long as he could remember.

“I thinkI’m going to head to Atlantic City and pester the boys for a while.”

“You don’t have to go.” He wanted to wrap an arm around her, to keep her close, but there was nothing left to hold.