Page 22 of Because of Me

Ella catches up to us two flights later, and by the time we make it up the third, I’m spent. Sheso kindlytakes the suitcase from me once we hit the third floor, wheeling it along the corridor towards the apartment.

“Thank you,” she preaches once we are all inside.

After leaving the suitcase by Ella’s new bedroom, Noah heads into the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” he calls from beside the stove. Kitch has jumped onto the bench next to him, watching him stir the contents of a large pot. I’ll have to scrub the bench with bleach before I make the next lot of bakery treats. Don’t get me wrong, I clean it regardless, but I make a note to form a habit of using something stronger than spray and wipe.

Flopped on the couch, with her feet hanging over the armrest, Ella grouches, “Famished.”

It’s late. Too late for dinner, technically, but after the drive to the airport and back I’m just as hungry as I am tired.

“I was going to order something.” It doesn’t matter, because Noah has clearly cooked, but there’s an itching need to make sure he knows I had something that resembled a plan.

Pulling out three bowls, Noah shrugs. “I can’t cook much, but I’ve been told I make a mean carbonara, and all the ingredients were in the fridge. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I will eat anything, and I promise I’ll be a better house guest starting tomorrow,” Ella calls from the couch.

She better. I did not agree to babysit an overgrown teenager. Ella doesn’t seem like herself today though, so I’m crossing everything she’s just tired from travel and overwhelmed with the fact she’s in another state.

Ignoring her, I move to the kitchen to help Noah dish up the meal. Our hands brush together when I pass him a stack of bowls, and he jerks away like my touch burnt his fingers. He sucks in a hissed breath.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

He clears his throat, dropping his head low to whisper in my ear. “For what? For the touch of your skin feeling like electricity through my veins? I’m not sorry you touched me Amira, I’m sorry it’s all for show.”

My mouth falls open. I want to snap back, to be witty and clever. Maybe tell him part of me wishes it wasn’t just for show or maybe remind him that’s all this is. But I can’t. He’s still so close to me and all I can focus on is his dark fruity scent and the little hint of spice that trails after it.

Unmoving, he talks in a voice so low and soft I can practically feel it on my skin. “I’ve never been good at doing things by halves Amira, so are you ready to put on a show?”

“What do you mean?” My breaths falter, my chest heaves into his.

“Your cousin is watching.”

“Oh … well …”

I still hadn’t figured out what I was going to say, but I fall silent as his lips press against my cheek.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs into my skin.

All I can do is nod, humming my agreement and forcing myself not to turn into him. “Is she still watching?”

Noah responds with a growl. The rumbling in his chest reverberates through my own. “What if she is?”

I want to tell him that it doesn’t matter, that we aren’t puppets on display for her and whether or not we kiss right now isn’t going to change her opinion of us or our so-called relationship. But I really, really want to find out if he tastes as decadent as he smells. Even if it is all for show, I want to claim his mouth and show Ella that Noah belongs with me. Noah is mine.

“Amira,” Noah growls. He reaches behind himself to put the bowls down, then wraps his arms around my waist. Large hands and strong fingers grip my sides as he pulls my body further into his. “What if she is?”

I can’t breathe in his embrace, but I don’t want him to let go. Instead, I turn my head, inching my mouth towards his. I feel his breath against my lips as he hesitates before crashing his mouth into mine.

At first, our kiss is forced, a little hesitant. Our mouths are closed and we hold still as we both realise what we are doing. And then his fingers press into my sides and my body leans into his as I whimper under his touch.

Dropping my lips open a fraction, I dart my tongue across them, across his. Testing. Teasing. Seeing just how far he will take the performance. He meets my tongue with his own, and then we aren’t just kissing, we’re exploring. We’re frenzied.

What started as a gentle peck to play a part becomes a lust-filled kiss. Our lips and tongues and teeth crash together. I can’t hold back, and it feels as though neither can Noah. He clings to me, and I’m revelling in it. His large hands are splayed across my back, and one reaches up to hold the back of my head. I quiver under his touch, my body desperate to know how it would feel if we were to give in completely. What it might be like to have his large hands trail over every inch of my skin.

My belly flutters at the thought and a throbbing begins deep inside my core. Kissing Noah was the best idea I’ve ever had and also the worst. I want more immediately but warning signs are flashing behind my eyes.

With a gasp, remembering, I press back. My eyes are wide and I fumble with the front of my top, straightening myself out.

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