Page 41 of Coming Home

“For me, you stopped being Clayton’s little sister a long time ago.”

She shifted on the couch, folding her legs beneath her.

“I hadn’t seen you in person since you were twelve. Between being stationed overseas and my second deployment, I still saw you as that little girl at the other end of those letters and care packages. Five and a half years later, after I got injured in that IED blast, you were the soft voice at the other end of the phone, calling me weekly to check in while I was recovering. A soft voice that no longer sounded like the little girl I remembered. When I came back to Perry after Evan died, you’d become a woman who steadied her family during one of the toughest moments of their lives.”

Noah’s words from last week echoed.I see you.

She could see herself through his eyes. To Noah, she wasn’t Chris and Heidi Owen’s youngest daughter. She wasn’t Evan and Clayton’s little sister. She was just Nat. His Nat.

Throwing the pillow aside, she crawled onto his lap. His arms looped around her, pressing her close to his chest. The quiet thump of his heart lulled her in the moment.

“Nat,” he murmured, kissing her temple. “I know how strong you are. I know you don’t need anyone to protect you…but I want to. Not because of Clayton but because of you.”

“Forget talking. Just kiss me.”

As bemusement punctuated his grin, he pressed his smile to hers. Nibbling open her mouth, the slick heat of his tongue found hers. His focused kisses drank in every last drop of her. His hands slid down her body, grazing her bare thighs. Liquid desire pooled in her belly and dripped across her bloodstream. Adjusting her position, she straddled him.

“Noah,” she giggled with his squeeze of her behind.

“It’s such a nice ass.” Those dimples popped with the quirk of his lips.

Like an animal in heat, she rubbed her hips against him, feeling his stiffness grow beneath her. It was intoxicating to experience his slow unraveling. The tightened grip on her ass. The deepening kisses. The hungry groans. The press of his hardness against her.

She should slow down. There should be batted eyes and coy comments.

Fuck that!She’d waited long enough to bathe herself in this moment. To have his unbridled kisses and exploring hands set her on fire.

“Noah, take me upstairs,” she panted, breaking their kiss.

“Hold on.” He held her tight, lifting them off the couch and turning to take the ten steps to the sleeping loft.

“How strong are you?” She mused as he effortlessly carried her up the stairs.

“It helps that you’re tiny, Tink,” he chuckled.

“Tink?”

“You’re like Tinkerbelle. Pixie-small but full of spunk.”

That big smile on her face would never come off.

Reaching the loft, he placed her on the cream-colored bedspread and then fell atop her. Settled between her legs, his hands skated up her thighs, over the worn denim of her shorts, stopping at the button. A wickedness sparked in his expression as he popped the button and pulled the shorts down.

“I could prolong this, but I think we’ve waited long enough.” The low rumble of his voice scorched her already heated skin.

Noah’s fingers were warm as they dipped under the waistband of her cotton boyshorts and yanked them off. Nat, of course, complied. The pads of his fingers crisscrossed up and down her legs, tingling awake every nerve ending in mini explosions of need and desire.

The pulse at her core ached. “Noah, please.”

“Do you want me to touch you”—his fingers parted her wet folds—“or kiss you.” His tongue flicked over her clit.

Grasping at the silky comforter, she moaned, “Kiss.”

Taking her hips, he dragged her to the edge of the bed. Reminiscent of a subject ready to praise their queen, he knelt on the floor and gazed up at her from beneath hooded eyes.

Spreading her wide, he rubbed his nose against that throbbing nub and inhaled deep. “Do you taste as sweet as you smell?”

He licked down her center. Pleasure zinged up her spine.

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