“Here?” he asks. His smirk spreads across his mouth and mine, pressing into my lips.
“You’re an asshole,” I sigh, tortured. “Keep going.”
His fingers are long, and he barely has to move his hand for them to slip under the waistband of my shorts, stopping just shy of where I need him. “Here?”
“You talked a big game during that two fingers conversation, and you’re not living up to it.”
He laughs, quiet and unguarded. It’s so delicious I grip the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him down to me, kissing him deeply just as his fingers find the center of my need. They slip over me, then into me, and we both let out shaking groans. His thumb starts a torturous rhythm in tandem with the slow push and pull of his fingers. His tongue follows the same beat, sliding in against mine again and again.
He’s pushing against my hip in short thrusts while he works me, getting harder with every minute he continues to build the perfect pressure. He listens for my cues, circling his thumb faster when I start to ride his hand in earnest.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Mmm.” I grip his forearm as everything starts winding unbearably tight. “Can you come like this?”
“No, but it doesn’t—”
“It matters, Theo,” I say, my voice breaking. “Please. I need you to.”
His body jolts against mine, either from his name or my request. “God, okay,” he breathes out. “I—just let me get you there.”
The intense mix of his touch, of his promise, of us finally doing this, pushes me right to the edge. “I’m there—”
His voice shakes with a heady mix of restraint and excitement. “Fuck yes, Noelle.”
It’s him saying my name again, curving over me to kiss me deeply, that throws me into intense, explosive relief. I release the smallest cry, my thighs closing around his hand, shaking as he gasps into my mouth. He doesn’t stop, just slows his pace until I wind my fingers around his wrist, my kisses turning sloppy.
He sits up suddenly, pulling off his shirt. “I have to—”
I get a brief look at his broad chest before he puts the shirt down between us and lays back down, propped on his elbow again. He pushes down the waistband of his shorts, just past his hips so he can wrap a hand around himself. It’s so dark that I can’t see, but his mouth finds mine and a heady rush of lust interrupts my disappointment.
I feel the stroking bump of his hand against my hip and break off the kiss so I can bite at his jaw, replacing his hand with mine. His skin is hot, slick from his fingers in my body, from the pleasure he got touching me. He’s so hard it must hurt, and the sound he makes in the back of his throat when I tighten my grip tells me it does.
“Show me.”
He groans, his fingers curling over my knuckles, and he demonstrates what he needs, the pace and the pressure that will get him there. We do it together, quietly in this dark, strange room we’ve made ours.
“Kiss me,” he pleads after barely a minute. “Please.”
I run my tongue over his bottom lip and he gasps, our pace stuttering, then speeding up. He catches my lips, kissing me deeply before pulling back to pant against the corner of my mouth, my cheek. His other hand wraps into my hair, grips it as he whispers a soft fuck and pulses onto my skin and the shirt beneath us.
“That’s it.” I echo his encouragement from earlier, and he wheezes out a laughing groan, our strokes getting slower and longer, his forehead dropping against mine.
We’re both shaking by the time he finishes. Theo’s warm breath escapes his mouth in bursts, his heart pounding in his chest pressed against my arm. Something deeper than pleasure sinks into me when his lips press against my temple, his fingers loosening their hold on my hair.
“That . . .” he murmurs, “。 . . was my favorite shirt.”
I turn my face into his chest, shaking with laughter. It’s the last thing I expect, but the first thing I need. It detonates any potential awkwardness before it can build. I keep my nose and mouth buried against his shivering skin while he uses his shirt to wipe my hip and stomach. I don’t want to move. Ever.
When he’s done, Theo’s arms circle me. I shift onto my side, sinking back into the cradle of his body. He lays his thigh over mine, pressing a trail of kisses against my shoulder, up the slope of my neck. Our fingers tangle together against my stomach, and I sink into the quiet connection of the moment. We’ve never touched like any of this, but it’s this right here that makes me ache the most.
“Noelle,” Theo whispers.
“Mmm.”
“I love the way you say my last name with all your attitude, so I’m not saying stop calling me Spencer.” He pauses and I open my eyes, holding my breath. “But now that you’ve started calling me Theo, don’t stop that either, okay?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, inexplicably, exhaustedly happy. “Okay.”
Twenty
Are you sure you want to stay home? It’s our last day here.”
Paul looks up at me from his book. “Oh, yes, the past two days have really taken it out of me. I want to rest up for our next adventure.”
Yesterday we spent the day on the Kolob Canyon side of Zion. Though we stuck to flat trails and Paul has the stamina of someone a dozen years younger, I believe him when he says he’s wiped out.
But there’s definitely a sparkle in his eye now as he tucks himself further into the corner of the couch.
God, that couch. If it were a person, I wouldn’t be able to look it in the eye. I can barely look Paul in the eye. My cheeks flame at the thought of what Theo and I have done there the past two nights. My brain instantly offers memories of the confident, commanding way he kisses me with his hand bracketing my jaw, how he looks looming over me in the darkness. Those tortured, bitten-off sounds that escape his mouth when I suck on his neck, or bite the curve of his shoulder while I’m stroking him. How, last night, after a full day of not being able to touch, he filled his palms with me—my breasts, hips, ass—like he’d been thinking of the shape of me for hours.
“Shepard.”
I jump. Theo’s standing by the door already. From under the brim of his hat, his eyes sparkle with amusement, like he knows what I was daydreaming about.
I feel bad leaving Paul here on our last day in Zion, but not so bad that I won’t take the opportunity to be alone with Theo. Plus, this means we can tackle a more strenuous hike; my body craves that burn.
“Okay, well, call us if you need us,” I say.
Paul waves cheerfully. “I won’t! Enjoy today’s letter.”
I pat my backpack, where it’s safely tucked. “Can’t wait.”
“We’ll be back by dinner.” Theo opens the door, barely moving back so that when I step past him, our bodies brush against each other. He bites his lip, grinning, and I give him a droll look, grazing my fingers across the front of his gym shorts as payback. His hand shoots out to grab my arm as he shuts the door. Cutting in front of me, he backs me up against the wood, still chilled from the early-morning air.
“Guess how many times I said your name.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Last night?”