Page 17 of Wicked Little Thoughts

The confusion in his eyes clear. “You heard me talking with Luke,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “That’s why you left.”

I don’t reply. He reaches for my hand again, this time not taking no for an answer.

“Come on, Sloan. I told your brother what he wanted to hear. He made it pretty clear he didn’t want us hooking up. Of course, I like you,” he adds, pulling me against him. “I like you a lot. Way more than I fucking should.”

“I'm sure he's not the only one you tell things they want to hear,” I snap weakly. “Why should I believe you?”

“If I didn't like you, would I be here?” he asks. “If I didn't like you, and you left, that's my problem solved, right? But Idolike you and I'm here to tell you that. Because I don't want this—us—to be over.”

I sigh through my nose, staring at his chest as he reaches out and runs his hand down my arm. I shiver. Despite my best intentions, his touch feels nice. I like how our bodies fit together, how I can still smell myself on him. I like how he looks when he's staring at me.

“I don't like being jerked around, Noah,” I finally say, meeting his eyes. “Or being lied to.”

“I'm not lying,” he swears earnestly, shaking his head.

Before I can react, he cups my face and kisses me. It's a damn good kiss, slow and passionate and sweet. It's the kind of kiss that movies build up towards, that could linger forever and never go bad.

“Does that feel like I'm lying?” he whispers when we part, our foreheads pressed together, his hands still cupping my face.

I swallow and shake my head. Then, I lean in to kiss him again. He answers, pressing our bodies together suddenly enough that I stumble and he has to catch me, and turns me to brace me up against the hallway wall. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and let him hoist me up into his arms, just like the first time he touched me like this, in the hotel elevator.

I smile at the memory and he answers it in kind, grinning ear to ear. He looks like the happiest man alive.

Imade him look like that. It suits him.

“This feels familiar,” I tease, wondering if he'll make the same connection.

His eyes darken and he gives me that sly smile I've grown to recognize so well. “Want me to get back on my knees for you, baby?” he teases, kissing my cheek and jaw and down my neck for emphasis.

I shiver, biting my lower lip and closing my eyes. I shake my head before he can put me down or touch anywhere else. I can feel that heat pooling low in my stomach again and it's only a matter of time before I ruin yetanotherpair of underwear.

“Take me to the bedroom,” I order, tugging on his hair to get his attention. I point down the hallway towards my room. “That way.”

He smiles and hoists me off the wall, carrying me like I weigh nothing, until we reach my room, and he kicks the door closed. I push at his shoulders until he sets me down.

“Sit,” I say, pointing to the bed. He does. I smile and step between his legs, bending down to toy with the buttons on his shirt, and let my fingers walk down to the bulge in his pants. “Someone's eager.”

He shrugs.

I put my hands on his chest and shove him backwards without warning, then climb onto his lap and settle over his erection. I grind my hips down, loving how he groans, and his hands fly to my hips to steady me and help me move.

I take his chin and make him look at me, then lean down to kiss him. It makes me lift off his erection, which causes him to make a pathetic but adorable needy noise, so I reach between our bodies and free his cock, stroking slowly.

Then, I reach under my skirt and push my underwear to one side, so that I can sink down onto him right away. He gasps, wide-eyed and disbelieving. I take my time, working my hips in little circles until I'm wet enough to take him comfortably, and can settle fully in his lap.

“Now who's eager?” he teases, sliding his hands up from my hips, taking my shirt with it. I lift my arms so he can take my shirt off and toss it to the floor.

“I’m just taking the edge off,” I say, pulling him up by his shirt until he's sitting upright and can kiss me properly. “I want you to make me come hard,thenmaybe I'll let you take the rest of my clothes off and fuck me properly, Mister 'Never Back Down From a Challenge'.”

He narrows his eyes playfully at me, then gives me a positivelyevilgrin.

“All right, you're on.”

Without warning, he pulls me close and stands, then turns us around and presses me down onto the bed, crawling on top of me without having to pull out at all. He takes both my wrists in one hand and pins them above my head, using that as a point of leverage for his other hand to reach between our bodies and prove that he's just as good with his fingers as he is with his tongue.

Which he does.

Twice.

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