Page 43 of Stoplight
“It’s been years.”
“How many?”
“Probably like fifteen.”
“Fifteen?” her ginger brows hiked. “That’s a long time.”
“I know. What about you?”
A deep exhale flowed from her mouth. “Whew, believe it or not, I don't think I’ve ever been in love in the sense of a romantic love. I’m loved by people, but I haven’t experienced the kind of love that lives deep in my bones.”
Noble could tell. There was a deficiency with Irish. He couldn’t explain how he knew. Maybe he was well versed in women and knew when one hadn’t been loved correctly.
“How come you ain't never been in love? That nigga, Jovanis, blocking you from being loved by another man?”
“No.” She smirked at him. “Jovanis is very supportive. It’s just… I don't know. People make it seem like love is so accessible when real love isn’t. I don't want the kind of love that’s deemed the standard. I wanna be loved like I’m the air that myman needs to survive. The love that turns into a force because it’s so intense…” She went quiet for a moment. “Maybe I’m being unrealistic. What if I’m making love this big ol’ mystical thing when it’s really simple?”
“Love can be simple, but it can also be that mystical thing you desire.”
Intro crooned in the background as their conversation took a quick intermission. Irish wanted love, which led him to believe that she didn’t receive it growing up. This sudden interest in her background couldn’t be contained. Noble suddenly wanted to know every single detail about Irish so he could ruminate on it.
“I have to admit that you make a helluva drink, Noble.” She grinned at him.
He sat his drink on the coffee table and scooted closer to her. “Do you know what you doing, Irish?”
She rolled her tongue across her lips. “As far as what?
“With me?”
“Honestly… I’m not sure.”
The chemistry between them was so extreme. Noble had never felt anything like it. He had clear intentions on every element in his life but with Irish, everything was so gray. There was no black and white with her. Just a cocktail of lust, allure, and confusion.
“You need to be sure. I’m stepping on a lot of my principles being here with you.”
“I am, too,” she confessed as her eyes fell to her lap.
Noble placed his index finger under her chin and lifted her head. He studied her eyes, freckles, and then her lips which only heightened this fervid need for her.
“We gotta decide if we’re willing to take this risk together.”
Irish’s lips parted. “How about we throw our reservations to the wind? Let’s be oblivious together and explore each other selfishly.”
Everything within Noble’s manhood attempted to pull him back from making this decision. Not only was Irish married but she was his associate’s wife. This was too close for comfort. His position didn’t give him room to make reckless choices like this. He was a leader; the general to an organization that looked to him to guide by example. What would TLM think if this was to ever seep out from the comfort of the bubble he and Irish had created?
Then, on the other hand, Noble was a man with needs. Suddenly, Irish had become a necessity that he couldn’t walk away from just yet. He’d been quietly plotting on her for months, hoping he would see a crack that he could sliver into. She wanted love and so did he. He’d been single for three years, picking and choosing which woman to indulge in for the night. If she was lucky, she would make it to a month before his interest dwindled down to a text here and there.
However, this situation wasn’t ideal though. There was no way Noble and Irish could create magic when there were barriers between them. His loyalty at the moment was to TLM and hers was to Jovanis. Despite all that, Noble had to make a choice. He could leave this where it was and count his losses. Irish would understand because they were on the same ship but on two different sides. The smart option would’ve been to walk away, but his desire had grown exponentially wild, and at this moment, he couldn’t ignore it.
Noble leaned forward, compressing his lips against hers. This kiss was just as explosive as their first one. Hopefully, thistime, there wouldn’t be any distractions. There was a physical manifestation that took place. Almost like a plug that had been inserted into an electrical socket. Irish climbed on top of him, not breaking the kiss. His erection grew by the second while he sucked on her tongue. Irish tasted just how he imagined. Like salted caramel with a splash of tequila.
Feverishly, Noble removed her cropped shirt, exposing her small B-cup breasts. Irish suddenly broke the kiss. Both panting, she stared at him before standing and dropping to her knees. Noble slouched into the couch as her hands unbuckled his Dior belt. Soon after, she grabbed his erection and stroked it with her hand. Her painted red nails were a beautiful contrast against his milk chocolate skin. Irish didn’t prepare him. She gave no warning as she wrapped her lips around his shaft and gulped him whole.
“Fuck,” he grumbled, watching her eat his dick like she’d missed a few meals.
Irish swallowed him then suctioned her cheeks before wrapping her tongue around his head and repeating it all over again.
Noble’s head fell back in complete bliss. His abdominal muscles tensed as she cast a spell on him. Who was this fucking girl and why was she sucking his dick like a veteran porn star?
