Page 7 of The Murder Between Us
Noah nodded, gulping half his champagne in one go. Cole’s thumb was back, stroking over his skin, leaving lines of fire in the wake of his touch.
“I had a great time tonight. Really, I did. You’re a great guy, Noah. There will be a million men out there who crave exactly who you are. I have a feeling you’re going to find the answers you’re looking for, and you’re going to find the man who makes your whole world spin right.”
“I’m sensing a but.”
“No buts.” Cole kissed his knuckles. “If you’d like, we can finish here, and Gregoire will take you back to your hotel. You can remember tonight however you want to: a moment in time, a search for answers. Moonlight and neon and great jazz with decent company.” Cole smiled. “Or, if you’d like, I can take you upstairs to my room and try to answer a few more questions for you. I can, hopefully, show you a great time.”
Noah’s breath hitched. Stuttered to a stop. Cole clenched down on his hand, and Noah squeezed back reflexively. His eyes searched Cole’s.
“It’s your choice,” Cole breathed. “I’m happy to walk you back to the car. To end this here. We’ve had a great evening together.” He turned Noah’s hand over, uncurling his fingers before he pressed a kiss to the center of Noah’s palm. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you I want to be your first kiss, Noah. I imagined kissing you the whole time we were at the Parrot Room. Turning your head, holding your face in my hands…” His breath ghosted across Noah’s skin, his palm and his wrist. Now, suddenly, the side of his face. They were so close together again. As if they couldn’t stay apart.
What did he want? Did he want to leave now, go back to his room? Face-plant into his bed and listen to CNN until dawn? Replay this moment, this evening, for hours, days, weeks, months? Years, even?
Fear made him still, made his toes curl. What would it mean if he took this further? If he kissed Cole, if Cole kissed him back? If he followed him upstairs?
What would it mean if he left?
What would it mean if he stayed? If he, finally,knew.
Noah slid his shaking hand over Cole’s cheek, his jaw, up into his hair. His fingers played in his blond strands—short and trim, just the way he liked. He’d always been attracted to the clean lines and features of a military man or a government man, and Cole had that in spades. He was pure Americana, a suntanned surfer and an erudite elite and warm-blooded, big-hearted man. He was everything Noah wanted… and somehow he wanted Noah in return, at least tonight.
Noah tugged. Cole surged forward, both hands rising and cupping Noah’s face. His fingers splayed over Noah’s cheeks, thumbs brushing up his cheekbones, over his stubble. Their lips met, dry, champagne-tinged, brushing shyly at first. Then not shyly, and then deeper, until Cole’s tongue teased at Noah’s mouth. He hissed, parted his lips.
And then they were kissing, drawing each other close. Noah felt like he was falling forward, falling into Cole, spilling over and into Cole, falling out of himself in the places where they were merging. Lips and tongues, arms winding around each other, chests and shoulders pressing, rubbing. There was that heat again, a fire billowing inside of Noah, roaring through his veins and into his cells. A million times he’d imagined this moment, but he’d never imagined the fever, the flutter, the way the world spun and made him dizzy and everything shifted, resettled into a new understanding of reality as the kiss went on and on.
Cole pulled back first, pushing their foreheads together. Noah tried to chase him, kissing his lips and his chin as he held on to Cole’s shoulders and the back of his neck with both hands.
“It’s your choice,” Cole said, panting. His voice was deeper, thicker than it had been a moment before. “Noah…” He dug his forehead into Noah’s. Their noses brushed. Breath tangled between them. “God, Noah.”
He was sixteen in the back of his father’s Volvo again, that same mixture of adrenaline and fear and so much fucking hope, so much want surging through him. He’d never have this moment again, or this man, or this night.
He’d never, ever wanted something as badly as he wanted Cole and the promise of his hotel room upstairs, right now. “Take me upstairs.” His voice came out in a growl.
Everything was a blur. Cole grabbed his hands and dragged him off the patio, through the candle-strewn darkness and then across the too-bright lobby. They bypassed the main elevator bank and made for a red-velvet-roped side lobby, a private entrance for the Tower Suites elevators, where an attendant welcomed Cole by name and keyed the elevator for immediate entry. Cole’s hand was laced with his, squeezing over and over in time with the beat of Noah’s heart. “Have a good night, sirs,” the elevator attendant said, closing the doors behind them with a flick of his master key.
Alone. Cole backed him against the mirrored wall as the elevator soared. His hands grasped Noah’s hips, and he looked into Noah’s eyes before he kissed him again, gently this time. They traded soft, tiny kisses, almost nervous brushes of their lips, as they stared at each other.
Noah grabbed Cole’s hips, slid his trembling hands beneath Cole’s suit jacket, and followed the line of his belt to the small of his back. He tugged, pulling Cole against him, their bodies finally flush together the way he’d wanted to be all night long. Cole kissed him, captured his lips, devoured Noah as he spread his legs, his hardness suddenly there, digging into Noah’s hip.
Noah pulled back with a gasp as the elevator dinged, the doors opening at Cole’s floor. Cole guided him out, kissing him every three steps, zigzagging from wall to wall on their meander to his suite. There were only ten rooms on this floor, Noah noticed, a far cry from the two hundred at his hotel.
A door unlocked behind him, and Cole pushed him into a suite, filled with sleek furniture and gold wallpaper illuminated by the lights from the Strip that shone in via the wall of windows wrapping around Cole’s corner suite. The Bellagio’s fountains were going off again, a golden glow filling the arcing water and scattering prisms across the hotel room walls.
They stood in the muted light, breathing hard, hands stroking, lips meeting and parting, meeting and parting. Cole’s hair brushed Noah’s forehead. Noah’s heart thundered, so hard and loud he thought he might die.If this is the end, I’ll die happy. I’ll die knowing.
“Noah,” Cole whispered. His fingers danced up Noah’s sides, over his ribs, and rested over his pounding heart.
“Show me,” Noah breathed. “Everything.”
Cole’s eyes flashed. “Do you have any idea,” he said, undoing Noah’s shirt buttons, “how sexy you are? Especially in this shirt?” He pushed it off Noah’s shoulders, dragging it down his biceps and letting it fall to the floor.
A broken laugh escaped Noah before his lungs seized as Cole’s lips landed on his collarbone. “I bought it by accident.”
“Go buy ten more.” Cole’s gaze flicked to Noah’s face just before he kissed Noah’s chest. His teeth bit gently into the swell of Noah’s muscle. “The first thing I noticed about you was your shoulders, and your chest. How did you squeeze yourself into that shirt? You have no idea how hot you looked, do you?”
He thought he had looked ridiculous. “The first thing I noticed about you was your eyes,” he blurted out. “Even across the bar, you looked… kind.”
Cole stilled. A smile unfurled across his face, and his hands pressed into the small of Noah’s back, pulling them close together again. “You’re a romantic,” he breathed.
