Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I start to undo his zipper. “Why not? Haven’t you ever had sex in a public restroom?”
“No.” He catches my gaze. “Have you?”
I look away without answering, but slip my hand into his underwear. His skin is so hot and smooth. I circle the crown with my thumb until I feel wetness.
Noah hisses and rocks his hips against me. “I’m gonna have to put you down to get the condom on.”
“Fine. Just hurry.”
Noah lowers me to my feet and reaches for his back pocket. He slips out a condom and places the wrapper between his teeth to tear it open. Once he’s sheathed, I turn around and place my hands against the wall.
He doesn’t have to be told what to do next. Noah’s fingers slide beneath the edge of my panties. He strokes through my slickness and groans. “I haven’t even touched you, and you’re ready for me.”
“So what are you waiting for, then?”
“Hot damn. I love New York women.” Noah hikes up the back of my dress, wraps an arm around my stomach, and hoists me up to my toes. He uses his free hand to line himself up at my opening and surges forward, burying himself inside of me.
I gasp. There’s a twinge of discomfort, but it’s exactly what I needed. In fact, it’s the best thing I’ve felt in ages. Noah’s fingers press into my hips. “You good?”
My answer is to lean forward, pull almost all the way off him, and then slam back hard, taking him to the root again.
He groans. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Everything happens at warp speed after that. Noah pumps in and out of me hard and fast. It feels desperate and borderline angry, and I can’t get enough of it. I move with him, meeting his every thrust, blow by blow. My insides are climbing, beginning to pulse on their own. When he slides a hand around and massages my swollen bud, I lose it. Orgasm rips through me with an intensity that makes me forget everything and anything. It’s just what I was looking for.
After, we’re still panting when I start to see the room around me clearly for the first time. It’s dirty and it smells, and suddenly I need to get the hell out of here. I reach for the paper towels—the roll is sitting on the sink rather than in the dispenser a few feet away—and clean myself up before fixing my clothes. Barely two minutes have passed, and already I want this man inside me again.
Though not here next time.
“Would you like to take me home with you to have sex again?”
Noah smiles. “God, I really do love New York women. No bullshit, straight to the point.”
“Have you been with a lot of other women from New York?”
His eyes sparkle. “Not a single one.”
I chuckle. “Is that a yes?”
“That’s a fuck yes. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
He starts to open the door, but I stop him. “Don’t you need to use the bathroom?”
He winks. “It’ll hold.” Noah grabs my hand and guides me back to the bar, where he tosses a few twenties.
I’m so riled up, I don’t even care that I let him pay the bill. I don’t have enough cash on me anyway, and closing out the tab with a credit card would take far too long. After, he takes my hand again and practically drags me toward the door.
There are a lot more people here now than when I came in. A couple of guys say hello to Noah as we push through the crowd, but he cuts them off with a curt nod and keeps marching us to the exit. As we reach the door, it swings open. Noah puts his hand on my back and directs me out, not giving the patron coming in a chance to enter first.
The guy shakes his head. “Is there a fire somewhere, Sawyer?”
I freeze.
Noah doesn’t notice I’ve stopped moving until his hand pulls because I’m still rooted in place. “What’s the matter?” he asks.
“That guy just called you Sawyer?”
Noah shrugs. “Yeah. So? A lot of people do.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s my last name.”
CHAPTER
13
It’s almost four in the morning, and I’m staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell is going on.
Because something surely is.
Those eyes. I have no idea how I didn’t recognize them immediately. Noah Sawyer, his son . . . just happening upon me at a bar tonight? I chew my lip, roll over, gaze out the dirty, tobacco-stained window. A wiry tree climbs toward the sky, two birds perched there, chirping at each other. My vision goes out of focus as I stare. This is a small town. There are only a couple bars. Maybe . . .
Maybe it was a coincidence. The other men there knew him, called him by name. The bartender knew him, too, even his drink. So it’s not like it was his first time there.