Page 66 of Play On

Noah shuts his door and pauses for a moment, his expression serious. His sensual lips have parted a bit, and I’m pretty sure mine have, too.

I drink him in, from the pale grey dress shirt to the jeans that fit his athletic body to perfection. His shirtsleeves are rolled up, revealing his heavily inked arms. God, howhotis his ink? I love that he has tattoo sleeves and I love it even more that they are linked to Greek mythology. I also get a closer look at the three bracelets around his left wrist—two are beaded, one is leather.

Ooh, I like those bracelets. That adds another layer of hotness to his whole look.

Noah removes his sunglasses, and my eyes immediately lock with his. A massive smile lights up his face, and I find my breath catching in my throat.

“You look beautiful,” he says, coming towards me. Noah slides his hands around my back, drawing me into his body for a hug.

I feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of my shirt, and a thrill shoots through me from the sensation. I’m immediately aware of his cologne, and I bask in the clean citrus scent that is enveloping me.

The same scent I will find lingering on my own skin hours after he’s gone.

Noah steps back from me, but I happily notice his hands remain on the small of my back, and his palm makes contact with the sliver of skin exposed by my shorter top.

God, he feels divine.

“How was your drive? And how’s the cottage? Are you and Mila all settled?” I ask.

Noah smiles. “The drive was good. The cottage is amazing—I can’t wait for you to see it. And Mila enjoyed a walk on the shore before I left, she’s very happy and very tired.”

“Good,” I say happily. “I can’t wait to see the cottage later tonight.”

“Speaking of good, that’s how you look,” Noah says, rubbing one hand up and down my back.

“You mean better than something defrosted from a frozen-food shop?” I tease. “Because I lookedhorriblewhen you left me in London.”

His eyes sparkle at that comment, and I feel a bit giddy that I put that smile on his face.

“You,” he says sexily, “haveneverlooked like anything I’ve defrosted out of my freezer.”

I laugh and slide my hands up his chest, and my palms glide over the exquisite fabric of his shirt. I can feel hard muscle there, and knowing it’s underneath the surface of this shirt?

Hella hot.

“What is this?” Noah asks, lifting one hand and gently tracing his index finger over my necklace. His fingertips are rough against my skin, and I shiver from the intimate contact.

“That,” I say, gazing up at him, “is my evil-eye necklace.”

“Evil eye,” he repeats, his fingertips brushing over it again. “Should I be concerned?”

I swallow. From the way my pulse is beating, I’m the one who should be concerned.

“Well, according to Google, there are all kinds of meanings,” I manage to get out. “One is that it wards off evil intentions.”

“And what else?” Noah asks, removing his fingertips from my necklace.

“It can bring good luck and good fortune,” I say softly.

“Has it brought you that?”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?”

His eyes flicker intensely as he stares down at me. My words have surprised myself. I’m used to flirting with men, but not to this level.

Not where I mean exactly what I say.

“I’m here,” Noah says, his voice low. “And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

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