Well, that certainly was an odd thing to say, but Noah was quirky in his own little way, and I was bouncing like a little girl on the inside, so I didn’t question him any further.

“Come on,” I said, taking his hand and pulling him behind me to peer into the windows.

“What are we doing here? What is this place?”

“When I was a little girl, I used to pretend I lived here,” I told him as I looked through the window and found the room on the other side empty. I tugged on his hand to drag him around to the side of the house so I could do the same thing there. “It’s magical, don’t you think?”

“Magical?” he asked.

“Yeah, like straight out of a fairy tale.” I cupped my hands around my face to block the reflection of the sun on the window and gasped when I finally achieved a clear view. “Oh, the fireplace is breathtaking!”

Nothing on the inside looked modern. It had more of a quaint, rustic appeal, like it belonged in the pages of Country Living rather than Modern Home: arched doorways, wooden floors, wavy glass windows. I could just imagine Noah and me snuggled up on the couch, or making love on a soft rug in the glow of the fireplace. Of course I was getting way ahead of myself, lost in my own world of make-believe once again. Such a dreamer you are, Lanie Talbot.

Noah surveyed the place with his brow furrowed. “It’s a little run-down, don’t you think?”

“Noah Crawford!” I smacked his arm. “How dare you talk like that about my dream home? Besides, it’s nothing a little love and elbow grease couldn’t fix.”

He was right, but it wasn’t that bad. Some of the shingles on the roof were missing, everything was caked in dust and grime, and judging by the way the wind whistled through the panes of the windows, they’d probably need to be replaced as well. But all in all, it was still picture perfect.

“Oh! I’ve always wanted to see the backyard,” I squealed and tugged him along yet again.

When we made it around to the back of the house, I stopped dead in my tracks. The view was breathtaking. There was a little pond about fifty yards or so from the house with a family of ducks paddling through the water. A small gazebo sat beside the pond with a white wooden swing swaying to and fro in its center. A circular flower garden surrounded it, and a stone walkway led to the house. And since it was facing the west, that meant it was the perfect place to view the setting sun.

Without warning, Noah pushed my back to the stone wall of the house. One hand landed on the stones to my right, while the other cupped my ass and pulled me to him. Our bodies pressed together, our foreheads touching, Noah looked into my eyes and said, “That look on your face … I want you so fucking bad right now.”

He kissed my neck while kneading my ass and grinding his hips into me. He wasn’t kidding. I could feel his hardened length against my abdomen, and I wondered how in the hell he was able to keep it from busting through the tight denim of his jeans.

His hand was suddenly at my waist, and he popped the button of my pants before slipping his hand inside. When his fingers found the Cooch, we both moaned and my head fell back against the house.

“Noah, we can’t,” I said unconvincingly as I pulled at his arm in vain. “Samuel …”

“He’s at the car. He won’t come back here,” he mumbled against my neck as he continued to assault it with hot kisses.

“Neighbors,” I tried again, seeing the house through the trees on the east side of the house.

“Let them watch. I want you. Now.”

I heard the unmistakable sound of metal against metal as he lowered his zipper. “It’ll be quick. I promise,” he whispered against my ear. “Turn around, kitten.”

I took another look at the house across the way and, seeing no one out and about, I did as he asked. Admittedly, I was excited about the precarious position we’d found ourselves in, our need for instant gratification taking precedence over the possibility we could get caught.

The chilly air nipped at my bare skin when Noah lowered my pants down my thighs. His body covered mine and his hand drifted over the swell of my ass and between my legs.

“Goddamnit, Delaine. Always so wet for me,” he said, and then he sank to his knees.

My hands were pressed against the side of the house, my legs ensnared by my jeans, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. He pulled my hips out and away from the wall as his tongue sought out my pussy.

“Oh, God, Noah.” I moaned, closing my eyes and biting down on my bottom lip.

Just a taste was all he wanted. His tongue snaked its way through my soaked folds, finding that little pleasure bud and teasing it only for a moment before he directed his attention elsewhere. He gave my pussy one long lick from front to back, but then he kept going until …

“Holy shit!” I felt his tongue swirl around my rear opening, lapping at it with an unbelievable pressure. Moaning like a shameless hussy, I arched my body and pushed back against his mouth, begging for more. Noah gave my new favorite body part a sensual open-mouth kiss before he stood back up.

His husky voice was at my ear. “Liked that, did you?” I felt him rub the head of his dick back and forth between my legs in search of my opening.

Was I supposed to like that? Oh, God, I really liked that. “Uh-huh,” was all I managed.

Noah entered me, his cock slowly sliding inside my core until he was fully sheathed. He rolled his hips, pulling back a bit before pushing forward again. He was merely getting the feel of the angle, but it drove me absolutely insane.

“Ready, kitten?”

“Uh-huh.” Obviously my vocabulary had decided to take a hike, and my voice sounded like the wind had been knocked out of me.

Noah chuckled at my reaction and kissed the spot just below my ear. Then he held my hips and started a steady rhythm of in and out thrusts. “Fucking A,” he moaned. “It’s like dipping my dick in the honey pot. So soft, so warm, so sweet. What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Of course I knew I should’ve been the one to ask that question, and he should’ve already known the answer to his own, but even if I said it a million times, I’d never make him believe it.

“You saved my mother’s life … and mine,” I answered him. Feeling a little wicked, I tacked on, “Plus I love how you lick my pussy.”

I heard that growl I loved so much rumble from his chest. A hand latched onto my shoulder to keep me steady and his thrusts increased in pace and roughness. “In that case, I guess I do deserve you.”




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