Filmed: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (City Series Book 3) (23 page)

“This isn’t happening,” he grunted, frustrated.

“We’ve been at it for two hours, maybe we should take a break.”

He swiveled around in his chair and looked at me, sighing. “Yeah, okay. Break time. Shall we adjoin to the bedroom?”

I grinned. “No thanks. How about you ply me with alcohol instead.”

“Gladly.”

He stood and walked toward the door, and I followed. We descended down his spiral staircase onto the first floor, and he walked into the kitchen. I followed, softly padding along his hardwood floors. He pulled out two wine glasses and grabbed a bottle of red from a full wine rack mounted on the wall. He popped the cork, poured two glasses, and held his up for a toast.

“To making movies,” he said.

I clinked his glass and we drank. It was really good wine, surprisingly delicious, especially considering I was more of a white wine girl.

“I’m surprised that toast was so tame,” I said.

He shrugged. “After a glass or two, it’ll get dirtier.” I gave him a look and he smiled, sheepishly. “I’m just kidding, I’m not getting wasted.”

I sighed and shrugged. “How long have you been here?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Since freshman year. My dad more or less forced me into this place when I first moved out here.”

I looked at him, puzzled. “Why?”

“He thought I would get robbed and murdered if I lived in Philly, so he wanted me to at least have a nice apartment.”

“That’s nice, in a weird way.”

“Not really,” he said, following me. He sat down on the couch, stretching his legs out onto the glass coffee table. “Back then, he was just trying to protect his investment in me. It wasn’t paternal affection.”

“Have you guys always hated each other?”

“No, not always. He took my mom’s death pretty hard, at first, and I guess he just wasn’t equipped to take care of a kid. That’s why Miss H stepped in.”

“So what happened?”

He shook his head, sipping his drink. “I’m not sure, honestly. He started dating again, which I hated and didn’t understand when I was little. And then he threw himself into his work, and I became an afterthought. I guess it all happened slowly.”

“I’m sorry, Noah,” I said softly, sitting down next to him.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, honestly.”

We drank together in silence then, and I curled my legs up underneath me. The wine was delicious, and left a warm, comfortable glow in my stomach as I finished my glass. He grinned at me when he noticed I was done, and knocked his back.

“Want another?” he asked, standing and taking my glass.

I cocked my head at him. “Should you even be drinking?”

“Alcohol isn’t my problem,” he said, then stopped and looked at me. “But I won’t drink if you don’t want me to.”

I let that linger in the air between us for a second. “Maybe let’s stop at one.”

He nodded. “Okay, that’s fine with me”

I watched him walk out into the kitchen, rinse the glasses off, and place them in his dishwasher. He corked the bottle, put it on his kitchen counter, and then walked out toward me.

“Come here, I want to show you something.”

I stood up and followed him as he climbed the spiral staircase. This time, instead of going directly into the office like we had earlier, he pushed open the door to his bedroom and walked in. I followed, looking around the room like I was entering a secret, holy place.

The room was dominated by a large bed. The sheets and comforter were grey, and it looked a lot like his room had back at his dad’s place in the suburbs. There were more bookcases, and a large flat screen TV mounted on the wall, with a long case filled with movie DVDs. Noah walked over to a bookcase and pulled out a photo album.

“Sit,” he said, gesturing at the bed.

I sat down on the edge and he sat next to me. The album he was holding was old and browning, obviously a cheap drug store book, but he held it as if it were worth millions. He opened it to the first page.

“This is my mom,” he said.

He pointed at a picture that featured a beautiful brunette woman smiling huge, holding the hand of a cute little boy.

“Is that you?” I asked

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Your mom is really pretty.”

“Yeah, she was.”

He began to turn the pages, showing me more pictures. They were mostly of him as a kid doing things with his mom; going to the park, visiting the zoo, birthday parties, beach trips, the usual, normal stuff kids did with their parents. His mother looked like she was full of light and joy, an easygoing, lovely woman with a huge smile. Toward the end of the album, though, it became clear that she was getting sick. She was thinner, and her hair had completely fallen out by the end, probably due to the chemo. The last picture in the book was of his mother smiling huge in a hospital bed. Noah and his father were sitting on either side of her, laughing.

“This is all I have left of her,” he said softly.

“Do you remember what she was like?”

“She laughed a lot. She made everyone around her feel better.”

“I can get that from the pictures.”

“I don’t really remember much of the cancer stuff. I remember the hospitals, but I don’t think I really understood what was happening, even though my dad tried to explain it to me. Then one day, she was gone.”

I reached out and took his hand. He looked at me and smiled sadly, squeezing.

“Here, look at this,” he said. He turned back through the album and pointed out a particular picture. In it, he was wearing a Ninja Turtles costume, but he looked really upset. It looked like they were standing in someone’s backyard. His mom was next to him, and she looked like she was laughing really hard at something.

“This is my favorite picture of her. I remember this, actually. It was Halloween, and I really wanted to be a Ninja Turtle, but she got me the wrong one. I wanted to be Leonardo, but she got me Donatello, and I guess that really upset me. She was laughing so hard at how angry I was.”

I smiled sadly, looking at the angry little Noah. He looked like such a brat, and I could only imagine how much of a handful he was. He grinned at me.

“I was a great kid,” he said.

“You look like you were really easy.”

He shut the album, stood up, and slipped it back into the bookcase. I watched him, confused about the moment, confused why he was showing it to me. He sat back down next to me and took my hand.

“Noah...” I said, looking away.

“Just listen. I wanted to show that to you. I don’t care what happens from here on out, but it felt important that you saw her. It feels important that you’re making this movie about Miss H. And I just wanted to thank you for doing that.”

I looked back at him, surprised by his sincerity and the intensity in his gaze. He smiled back sadly and shrugged.

“I know you’re trying to help me, dots,” he said.

Before he could go on, I squeezed his hand hard and leaned forward, crushing his mouth with mine. It was impulsive and stupid but I wanted him more than anything in that moment, and couldn’t stop myself. For half a second, he didn’t react, but quickly his arms were wrapped around my body and his clean, grassy taste flooded my mouth. We kissed like that for a few minutes, until he softly pushed me back onto the bed.

“Noah,” I gasped. His body covered mine, heavy and strong, as he began to kiss my neck. I felt the rush of excitement hit me, and his hard dick pressed against my crotch as he ground himself against me. I left out a soft moan as his soft, practiced lips kissed along my neck and ear, then found my lips again, filling my mouth with his tongue.

I knew what I wanted in that moment, and didn’t care about what had happened before. Everything dropped from my mind, the drama between our parents, his disappearance, his drugs, my insecurity, everything. There was only his perfect, sculpted body and my pent-up need for him.

His lean body slipped back and upwards, and he pulled his shirt off, revealing this tattooed chest and sculpted abs. He grinned down at me as I stared at him, and then I shifted my weight, moving him off of me. He sat back, supporting himself with is arms, as I got up and onto my knees, pulling my own shirt off.

“Fuck, Linda, I missed you,” he grunted at me. I crawled toward him and smothered his mouth with mine, kissing him hard. I bit his lip and he grunted, pulling my hair softly as an answer. Smiling, I began to kiss down his muscled chest, lingering on his abs, as I unbuttoned his pants.

He helped me slide them down and I pulled them off his feet, tossing them onto the floor. His dick was pressing hard against his thin white cotton briefs, and I leaned back over him, rubbing his length with one hand.

“I’ve been thinking about your body for weeks,” he groaned.

“Oh yeah?” I whispered in his ear. “What do you want to do to it?”

Before he could respond, I pulled back, slipping his underwear down, revealing his nice, thick cock. I grabbed its base and slipped it into my mouth, eliciting a long moan from him.

“Fuck, Linda,” he grunted. “I want to lick your sweet clit until your legs shake.”

I sucked his tip hard, letting saliva soak his skin, as I slowly slid him into my mouth and throat. I sucked tight and rough, running it in and out of my mouth, my full lips wrapped firm, my tongue working along his length.

“I want to fill every inch of you. Fuck, keep doing that,” he said.

I began to work him with my free hand, jerking his dick as I sucked him. He groaned again as I slipped it as far as I could into my throat, and I felt his abs tense and his hands press against my hair.

“God I love your perfect fucking lips around my dick,” he groaned.

Finally, I pulled back, taking a deep breath and looking up at him with a smile as my hand continued to slide up and down his wet shaft.

“What else do you want?” I asked.

He moved forward suddenly, fast, and pushed me backwards onto the bed. I landed on my back and he was on top of me, unbuttoning my pants and ripping them off my body. I could feel how soaked I was already as his hungry mouth began to kiss around my thighs.

“I want to taste your soaked body,” he said as he slipped my panties off.

“Who said I’m soaked?” I answered.

He only grinned and began to lick my length, bottom to top, concentrating on my soaked and swollen clit. His tongue and lips worked my spot hard and fast. I moaned loudly, completely taken off guard, and I grabbed onto the comforter as my body tensed. The pleasured rolled through me in waves.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned and he reached up to grab my breasts, softly massaging them as he continued to work my spot, licking and sucking.

I thought I felt an orgasm coming on, and I reached down to grab his hair, not wanting to come yet. I pulled, and he looked up at me, his eyes fierce.

“I knew you liked it rough, dots,” he grunted.

“Fuck you, dick,” I said. His fingers began to roll around my spot, then he slipped them inside of me. I gasped and arched my back.

“I’d love to.”

And his fingers were gone. He moved back onto his knees and reached over to the nightstand, opening it and pulling out a condom.

“Convenient,” I said, laughing.

“Always be prepared.”

Then he was back on top of me, his bare chest pressing against my skin, kissing my mouth hard. I could taste myself on his lips but didn’t care, only wanting his tongue and his touch and his body. I ground my hips against his, and he pulled back onto his knees again. He reached forward and behind me, unhooking my bra, and I slipped it off. He kissed and bit my nipples softly.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered as he kissed down my chest and stomach.

“Oh shut up,” I said, pulling his hair.

He grunted and laughed, then ripped open the condom and rolled it down his length. He leaned forward, grabbing one of my hips, and guided himself against my lips. He pressed gently and slid deep inside of me.

I gasped at his size, amazed all over again how easily he filled me. He pressed against me slowly, my soaked spot allowing him to sink inside of me easily, and he kissed my mouth gently.

He worked like that, grinding into me and thrusting slowly, and the slight pain began to fade into easy pleasure. He reached back and grabbed onto my hip as he began to work harder, thrusting deeper and longer, and soft moans escaped my lips. I needed him, his strong body, and I felt like I was finally losing myself. The weeks of disappointment and fear slipped away, and there was only Noah and his skin, slipping into me.

I reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair, and he grunted.

“You want to play rough?” he asked.

“Don’t be a pussy.” I grinned at him.

He bit his lip then thrusted into me, hard. I gasped, wrapped my legs around his back as he began to slam inside of me, his arm muscles bulging and his abs standing out strong.

“Fuck, that’s what I wanted,” I groaned as he pushed into me hard.

He moved back onto his knees, spreading my legs apart, and put my knees up on his shoulders. He began to work into me hard and rough, and I had to reach up above my head to steady myself against the headboard.

“Oh shit,” I groaned and he kept working me. I looked down as his perfect body, his huge dick filling my spot, and I could feel the orgasm coming back, building up in my core again.

“I want to make you come for me, dots,” he grunted.

“I’m fucking close,” I groaned.

He reached down with his thumb and began to softly rub my clit as he kept working my spot. That sent me over the edge as the orgasm began to roll through my hips and body, tensing every muscle. My back arched and my knees locked as I groaned loudly, and he kept thrusting into me, rough and deep.

“That’s good, come for me Linda,” he groaned, working my spot.

It crested, peaked, and began to fall away as his pace slowed down. My body trembled slightly from the strength of the orgasm, my head softly spinning and floating. I heard myself breathing heavy, but it felt like I was floating miles away. He grinned down at me, giving me long, hard strokes.

“God, I could fuck you all day,” he groaned.

“I think I almost passed out,” I replied, coming back to myself.