He quickly shoves his arms inside, swiping mine up and preparing to do the same, but I drop my palms onto the tailgate once more, and begin scooting backward. I don’t stop until my fingers scratch against the nylon of his tent.
His brows dip low as I blindly find the zipper, my hand gliding along until it’s over my head, the opening falling against my back.
Noah’s jaw ticks as he kicks out of his wet bottoms, quickly stepping into his dry pair. He fists the clothes he has for me and then he’s crawling over me, with me, as I guide us into his tent completely.
Still slightly uncertain, he’s slow to close us inside, and I want to erase his hesitation that I know only stems from his concern for me, because I somehow feel none.
I’m not embarrassed, unsure or anxious.
I don’t have that twist in my gut that’s warning me away as if afraid he’ll push me away.
He would never.
Looking at him, into his blue eyes, my mind isn’t muddled.
It’s calling his name.
There’s something about Noah that frees me. With a single look or unspoken notion, he settles parts of me I don’t know need settling, and while I don’t fully understand it yet, I know I want to.
And right now, I want to get to know him a little better. A little… differently.
I fall back onto his pillow, and he follows. While his body hovers over mine, no part of our skin is touching, but the heat of him is present, and a ripple of anticipation works its way through me.
“What are you doing, Juliet?” he murmurs, his eyes falling to my breasts, half spilling over, free from my wet bra.
Tension knots inside me, creating an ache in my chest, and instead of answering with words, I slip a hand behind my back, and unclasp it, but I don’t take it off. I pull my hand out, letting him decide what to do next.
Noah shifts his weight to one side, his knuckles coming up to glide along my shoulder, as his finger hooks under my strap.
“You want me to touch you?” He slides lower.
A small moan works its way up my throat, and Noah pulls the garment from my body, my hands coming back down to grip the sleeping bag beneath me.
My breasts are bared to him, and he takes his time raking his gaze over every inch of me, his attention serving as a heated caress, as do the slow, deliberate exhales fanning along my skin.
His mouth meets my breastbone then and I pull in a harsh breath.
“Tell me where.” His command is gentle, and my nipples turn to sharp points.
My body heats, skin flushing, and Noah peeks at me through his full, dark lashes.
My lips part and his pull to one side.
“There it is,” he rasps. “That’s what I was waiting for. The blush.” His touch creates a fiery path up my stomach and doesn’t stop there. It trails higher, until his hand is gently stretched along my throat. I swallow against him and his fingers twitch in response.
His eyes snap to mine, and he repeats himself. “Tell me where.”
I play our game. “You already know the answer to that.”
“But…” He bites at my stomach, and I squirm.
But he wants me to say it.
Empowered by his mischievous way, I do him one better.
I guide his hand down my torso, in an unhurried fashion, and I don’t stop the tips of his fingers dipping beneath the hem of my underwear.
That’s where I leave him, because while I might not know Noah in this way… I know Noah.
His eyes snap to mine, narrowing, and I can’t suppress the giggle working its way up my throat.
“There.”
His features flash with praise and with that one look, the spark in my core grows to a full-fledged flame. He knows it and fuels the fire, his mouth coming down on my right nipple, clamping over me in retaliation. His lips begin to vibrate, and I squirm.
My legs come up, rubbing together in an attempt to ease the ache, and the move has his hand slipping farther south. That does it.
Noah drives his touch lower, his fingers coming together so he doesn’t miss a single sliver of skin on his way down. He cups me first, applying a teasing amount of pressure with his palm.
My eyes close, his tongue now swirling around my hard peaks as he pushes up onto his knees. He drags his wet lips across my skin, giving equal attention to my left nipple.
His hand skates lower, his chest rumbling as the tip of his pointer finger meets my slit.
“Fuck,” he croaks. “Open.”
My legs fall instantly.
His touch is hot and strong. I need—
His mouth crashes mine, cutting off my thoughts, yet answering it as he rasps, “I’m about to feel you. I’m gonna find out how warm you are, how soft…”