Page 81 of Lift Me Up

I kiss him back, but the notion sinks in and makes me laugh incredulously, "What? It should be me thanking you for the orgasm. I didn't know I needed that so badly."

"I promise not to make you wait that long next time." He winks.

"You better not." Like a flip of a switch, my hand is in his hair, pulling just hard enough to elicit that glorious sound of Noah becoming impossibly turned on, his lips pink and full, and I nip the bottom one, pulling him in. I touch his cheek with the other hand, smiling when he leans in and nuzzles, "You're going to be good for me, right?"

"Yes, Goddess."

Shit. The wave of emotion and arousal those two words strung together makes me want to take him right here, right now, on this very floor. Hell, when Abi found out when we first started dating, she wanted all the saucy details. Of course, we never said, but the cameras be damned, I want him now. I slowly sink to my knees and smirk up at him.

"Do you need the bookshelf to lean on?" I ask politely as I unbutton his jeans, loving the way his erection is already outlined and happy to see me.

"Um..." I palm him over his boxers, and he hisses, swaying. The answer he’s looking for is ‘yes.’

We shuffle around so he stands where I once stood, and I kneel in front of him, waiting for that moment for him to tell me he's comfortable. Waiting. I see that flicker in his eyes and I know.

Even from down here, I can see the power I hold over him right now. Noah's hands are in fists at his side, wanting to touch but letting me lead. His jaw is set firm, but it instantly slackens in reaction to the way I push his pants open just enough to pull his cock out over his boxers. He shivers through the feeling of the cool air, opens his eyes to reveal dilated pupils, and his breath is shaking as he holds his control. Noah loses that hold the second I take his cock in my hand and lick the tip.

“Oh shit,” He wobbles, holding himself to the bookshelf like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. Maybe it is. I chuckle, taking him in my mouth and twirling my tongue the way I’ve learned to melt Noah to his core.

I take him close to the edge twice, stopping and pulling back to grin at him when he makes that needy whine that makes me want to do it over and over. But I can see the need growing, his chest rising and falling. Right as I am about to take him back in, his phone rings, startling me. He looks at him, hesitating.

“You gonna get that?” I say playfully.

His eyes widen, “But you’re… But I’m… But we…”

I pat his thigh. “Better answer it, wouldn’t want the person to think you’re rude or something.”

With shaking hands, he reaches into his pocket and swipes the phone. I swallow him down completely. “Hell—oh.”

Perfect. I focus on my job, keeping him going and on edge and fuck he looks so good trying to keep his composure, mine slips. I use my teeth a little too much and he hisses.

“Mary, slow down—shit, she what?”

His tone seems off, but I redouble my efforts, and his eyes flash at me. He grabs my hair in his hands, like a flip of a switch again, he’s using my mouth the way he wants, and I have no problem letting him. I maintain eye contact as he does it.

His face contorts, I know he’s close. But then, he stills for a moment, regaining his breath. His face shifts to one of seriousness, “Where did they leave her?”

I move to pull off him, but his hand stays at the back of my head, making me take it, take him, hold him until he’s ready to fuck me further. I love every second of this.

I am seriously close to another orgasm when he says, “Okay. It’s okay. We’ll figure this out, Mary. Thanks.”

He hangs up the call, and it’s only a few short grunts and thrusts before he’s warning me, asking with his eyes and the grip in my hair whether or not I want to stay here when he comes. I flash him a wicked gaze and cup his balls in my hand, humming a vibration through him. It’s all it takes for him to come undone.

He slides to the floor next to me, winded and shaking his head incredulously as I lick my lips, beaming. We stay like this a moment, tangled half-clothed limbs and panting breaths, and when he finally regains his ability to function, Noah tugs me up off the floor and sets our clothes right.

“What is it? You sounded… stressed for a minute there. I can see that pinch in your brow you get when you’re angry and thinking.”

He sighs, the tension leaving his face for a brief second before returning, but with a little flash of something else too. “It’s Birdie. We’re getting her back, Goddess. She’s coming home.”

That little flash in his eyes? That is hope.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

GEORGIE

First time visits to a new doctor are never fun. Your entire medical file gets thrown out the window, and you have to go through your entire history, and hope they believe you. And if you're not diligent in documenting every visit, medication, surgery, or anything else you've tried to see if it will help for the record you keep on your own for instances like this, then you have to go on memory. But when you've taken as many meds as I have in my medical journey, short-term memory is the least of your problems.

I like to think that I have the memory of a goldfish. Eight seconds and then it's gone, swimming around the fishbowl again, trying to remember what it was already trying to remember before it lost the last memory. Which is to say that if it isn't in plain sight, the thing or item or person doesn't exist until the next time I think about it or go to do it.