Page 40 of Yearn

I laughed, my irritation gone. Coop was always able to change my mood and though sometimes I wondered if we were truly suited for one another long term, it was easy to push away the doubts and concentrate on the moment. “Want to go to the bathroom?” I teased innocently. Ever since that event, the group had been ruthless, and Coop knew I got embarrassed. Still, it had been hot having sex in a public place. I was kind of craving to try it again.

“Can’t even wait that long,” he murmured, tugging down my jeans, his mouth nibbling on the sensitive curve of my neck. It didn’t take me long to get in the mood.Soon, he was thrusting inside me, his teeth tugging at my nipples, his fingers digging into my hips as he fucked me hard, just the way I liked it. I imagined being in front of a crowd on display, their greedy gazes watching us, appraising my naked body and studying my face as I neared orgasm. It had been a fantasy of mine for a long time but I’d never admit it. Most people wanted to be a voyeur. I wanted to be the show.

I threw back my head and reached for release, and with a grunt, Coop slammed into me one last time and rubbed my aching clit.

I went over, toes curling as the orgasm crashed through me, blasting any worried thoughts out of my brain. I collapsed on the couch, panting, feeling more relaxed.

“Better?” he murmured, stroking my back. Coop was sweet after sex and liked to cuddle.

I pressed a kiss to his rough jaw and hugged him. “Yes. Thanks.”

He laughed. “Any time. That’s what I’m here for.” After a few more minutes, he rolled over and buttoned his jeans up. “Gotta do some stuff for the Red shoot. You ready for it?”

“Of course. I think it’ll be great for all of our portfolios. Imagine us on a billboard!”

“Yeah, they’re going after that sexy, young crowd vibe. I have some great ideas.”

I smiled at him. “You’ll be great. You’re so talented, Coop.”

“So are you. Now get your pretty ass to Noah’s house.”

I grumbled, but obeyed. Coop was right. I needed to do something instead of lying around moping.

I texted Noah, who said to come right over. It didn’t take long to get to his place. He had a one-bedroom loft style apartment and had set up his small living area as a music studio. Keyboards, speakers, and two laptops were spread out with a sectional couch in shag orange print. Endless shelves of books were squeezed into all of the remaining space. Noah never cooked, so it always smelled like Uber Eats with various fast food. I stepped inside and caught the scent of McDonalds today, which made me crave a burger immediately.

“Elle, I’m glad you decided to do this. I’m telling you, it’s gonna be a game changer for you.”

His apartment was familiar and comfortable; I’d been there many times with him one on one to help him cut music. “Thanks for pushing me. I know I have to do something since I lost my gig.”

His gray eyes flickered with empathy. “I know this isn’t what you want, but sometimes, we get what we need instead.”

His words didn’t hold the forced positivity Coop always gave, but more of a tight hug of comfort; a reminder it would be okay even if it was hard. Noah always seemed to get my mood and know exactly what I needed to hear. “Thanks. Is Daisy coming over?”

He shook his head and walked to the keyboard, fiddling with his laptop. “No, she’s working. Want something to drink before we start?”

I shook my head. The wine had given me enough easy warmth to loosen my muscles but I didn’t want anymore. “I’m good.”

“Let me show you what I want to do. I already okayed this with Adam so I want to cut a demo of you doing your part.”

“What about Adam’s portion?”

“I’m going to sing it.”

I lifted my brow. I rarely heard Noah sing. His speaking voice was amazing, deep and sexy, with undertones of gravel that sounded like sex. But I had no idea if. He could even hold a tune. “Cool.”

I sat down and we went through the song. It was a moody ballad that built up to a rock octave. I was immediately intrigued because it took some skill to sing: I needed to start whisper soft and build up the power, matching to my partner’s. The lyrics were about a man loving someone from afar who belonged to someone else. Depending on how I approached, it could either be filled with pain and regret; or a haunting bittersweet memory.

We ran through pieces of the song several times to get a feel for it. “Let’s try it straight through,” Noah said.

I started from the top, playing with my voice and trying to emit the emotions needed for the lyrics to pop. Noah tapped his fingers, his face deep in thought.

“How does Adam see the song playing out?” I asked.

Noah’s gaze crashed with mine. I was struck again by his looks. With his buzzed cut and gorgeous eyes, it was his face that was arresting, the slope of angles and lines and full lips that made a woman wonder what it would be like to be kissed by him. He had none of Max’s seductiveness, or Coops animal maleness. With Noah, a woman would need to peel off layer by layer and still not be sure what was left to uncover. He spoke through his music, like Adam, but instead of words it was notes and melodies and sound.

My body softened, and I leaned in, catching his clean soapy scent. I shook my head, feeling a bit tipsy. Probably too much wine.

“It’s not about anger or regret,” he said slowly. His voice wrapped around me like wispy streamers of fog. “It’s about longing.”