Page 40 of Blind Justice

Noah cradled Ruth in his arms as he carried her to the bedroom, the intimacy of the moment wrapping them in a cocoon of quiet understanding. She rested her head against his chest, her breath warm and uneven against his neck. When they reached her room, he nudged the door open with his foot and gently set her down on the bed, making sure her injured arm was propped securely on a pillow.

He sat beside her, brushing her hair from her face, his green eyes searching hers. “Rae,” he said, his voice tender but steady, “I need you to tell me if this is what you want. All of it.”

Ruth looked up at him. The low light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows across his face. She furrowed her brow and caught her bottom lip with her teeth, trying to hold back words she was too scared to say.

Noah watched her with a calm patience, his arms open in his lap, his expression tender, understanding.

"I just..." Ruth started, her voice barely a whisper. She glanced up at him, then away, shyly staring down at her good hand as if it held the answers she couldn't find. "I don’t know how to... how to do this." She waved a hand vaguely between them, her cheeks flushing a deep red. "You’ve been with other women. You know what you’re doing. And I’m just—" She broke off, a frustrated sound escaping her lips.

Noah’s warmth and presence were a comfort, but they also made her heart race faster, the nerves bubbling up to the surface. "Rae," he said softly, his voice like a soothing melody. "What’s going on in that head of yours? Talk to me."

She shook her head, her hair falling in front of her face like a curtain she could hide behind. But Noah reached out gently, caressing her cheek, pushing the hair out of her eyes. His touch was so gentle, it made her eyes sting with the threat of tears.

"I’m scared," she admitted finally, her voice cracking. "Scared I won’t be enough for you. That I’ll disappoint you."

She let out a shaky breath, her words tumbling out now like water breaking through a dam. "Because I’m so... inexperienced. I don’t know what I’m doing, Noah. And you—you’ve lived, you’ve had relationships, experiences. What if I can’t satisfy you? What if I’m... boring or awkward or—" She clamped her mouth shut, realizing how ridiculous she sounded but unable to stop the flood of self-doubt.

Noah took her hand in his, his thumb tracing slow circles on her palm. "Rae," he began, his voice firm but kind, "stop right there."

She looked up at him, her wide eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "But?—"

"No, listen to me," he interrupted gently, shifting so he could face her more fully. "I’m here with you because I care aboutyou. Not some idea of what you think you need to be for me. Not because of your experience or lack of it. Just you. Do you understand that?"

She blinked, startled by the intensity of his words. "But what if?—"

"Rae," his voice dipped lower, a husky warmth in his tone. "Do you know what I find most attractive about you?" He reached up, brushing his knuckles against her cheek, his gaze steady on hers. "The minute I met you in Tristan’s dining room. Serving coffee and food as we struggled to find Izzy. Your heart. Your honesty. The way you care so deeply. That’s what drew me to you, not some checklist of... whatever nonsense you’ve convinced yourself I need."

Her lips trembled, but before she could say anything, his hand slipped to the back of her neck, steadying her. "What a pair we are, Rae. You assured me that my doubts weren’t warranted, and now your doubts bubble up. I want this to be aboutus. No expectations, no pressure. And if that means I rest beside you, and we fall asleep with you in my arms, that’s fine too. Let’s do what feels right for you. Do you trust me? Believe me?"

She nodded, the knot in her chest loosening slightly. "I do," she whispered. Her hazel eyes glistened, the vulnerability in her gaze mirrored by the trust she was beginning to place in him. “I want you, Noah.”

"I’m glad." He smiled softly, leaning closer to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. "Then let me show you this doesn’t have to be perfect or practiced. It just has to be real."

He kissed her—a slow, deliberate kiss that seemed to melt away all her fears. He didn’t rush, didn’t push. Every touch, every movement, was as purposeful as it was tender, giving her the time and space to feel, to trust, to be herself.

Noah broke the kiss, his lips curving into a reassuring smile. “We’ll go slow,” he murmured. “I’ll never hurt you, Rae. You set the pace. If you want me to stop at any time, just tell me.”

She nodded, her nervousness ebbing as his words wrapped around her like a balm. Her fingers reached up to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw. “I trust you.”

Seventeen

Noah leaned down again, his lips brushing hers in a kiss so tender, it felt like a promise. He took his time, letting her feel every nuance of his affection, his desire. His hands rested on either side of her, steadying him as he deepened the kiss, his lips coaxing hers into a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. He wanted her in a way he had never wanted anyone.

Ruth’s uninjured hand slipped into his hair, her fingers threading through the soft strands. She tugged gently, her sigh melting into his mouth as he kissed her again. Each kiss was a conversation of touch that allowed her to explore her own responses.

Noah pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. “Rae, I’ll grab a condom, but we can stop anytime.”

Her cheeks flushed as she nodded. “I don’t want to stop, Noah.”

He stepped away briefly, rummaging through his wallet to retrieve a condom—the other thing he purchased at the package store—before returning to her side. He slid off his shirt, revealing the toned lines of his chest and shoulders.

Ruth’s eyes widened slightly as she reached up, tracing a tentative finger along the curve of his collarbone. “You’re beautiful.”

Noah chuckled softly, his hand brushing her hair. “I was just going to say the same about you.”

He helped her out of her sweater with infinite care, ensuring her injured arm was never jostled. His eyes never left hers, silently asking permission at each step. Ruth’s cheeks flushed as he slid her jeans down her legs, his movements reverent rather than rushed.

His hands skimmed over Ruth’s skin with a slight tremor, not from nerves but from the intensity of the moment. He wanted her to feel cherished, every hesitation and insecurity melting away with his touch. As she lay before him, her hazel eyes watching his every move, he felt her trust and vowed to handle her heart as gently as he was handling her body.

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