Page 75 of The Broker

It caused a deep, possessive satisfaction, and that left me off-kilter. I’d never,everbeen possessive when it came to relationships. In fact, I’d swung so far the opposite direction, my last girlfriend had accused me of not caring.

But tonight with Charlotte, things were wildly different. I hadn’t invited Patrick and Shannon to the club, or chatted with anyone else, because I selfishly wanted her all to myself. I wasn’t going to hold her back as she explored this new world, but I didn’t want her to go off on her own yet.

I wanted us to explore it together.

She hadn’t fully recovered from her orgasm when I unhooked her leg from my shoulder and helped her get her feet under herself. I put my hands on her waist as I rose, and then I worked her skirt down over her hips, putting it back in place.

Her top was still on the floor beside us, but I’d get to that later. I was standing in front of her, so my back would block herfrom view—and we were likely the most dressed people in this room, anyway.

She’d liquified and my hands were the only thing holding her up, and fucking hell if it didn’t feel good having her in my arms like that. It intensified a million times over when I captured her mouth with mine.

Our kiss was passionate, and scary. It doused me in foreign and unwanted feelings.

Distance, my mind instructed, trying to tell me what I needed...

But I ignored it.

I deepened the kiss until I was lost in it and could no longer hear the voice warning me that I was taking a terrible risk by being with her. The fire between us was scorching hot.

And she wasn’t the only one who could get burned.

TWENTY

Charlotte

When I spent the night at Noah’s, I didn’t sleep in his room. It was surprising—and disappointing—given what we’d done at the club. But he’d asked for this boundary, and I’d begrudgingly respected it.

It’d taken everything in me not to sneak into his bed in the middle of the night. I told myself that in the morning we’d get up, have breakfast together, and then fool around some more.

But when I strolled out into his kitchen wearing my sexiest pajamas, I found him fully dressed, finishing his cup of coffee, and he looked weary.

“Morning,” I said softly. “Everything okay?”

He jammed the heel of his palm into one eye. “Not really. My mom called at seven. My dad’s been throwing up all night, and she thinks we should take him to the emergency room.”

My gaze flew to the clock on the microwave. Shit, it was a quarter to nine. Panic seeped out into my voice. “Oh, God, Noah. Have you been waiting on me?”

“I didn’t want to be gone before you were up. I didn’t want you to think I’d just left you.”

My heart hurt for him.

And now I felt extra shitty about the situation because I’d spent ten minutes making myself look cute in the bathroom before coming out of my room. I waved a hand, signaling for him to get moving because I didn’t want him to waste another second on me. He’d wasted too many already. “Go, go. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” he asked, but he was already rising to his feet.

I nodded quickly, saying nothing as he strode away from the kitchen table, leaving behind his coffee mug and a plate full of crumbs from his breakfast. When he reached me, he looked... befuddled.

Like he had no idea what to do with me.

The words came from him were filled with regret. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I offered. “And don’t let me slow you down any more than I already have.”

But he didn’t move. He lingered in front of me, unsure of how to say goodbye, and I could see the question in his eyes. Should we kiss?

Nowas the answer he came up with. “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he flung a hand toward his pantry, “so help yourself to whatever, and stay as long you like.”

“Okay.”

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