Must Love Curves (Six Wicked Shorts) (15 page)

Suppressing a giggle and a thin thread of fear with it, I answered Donovan as he started to repeat his question. "Dude, I don't know -- and why do you ask?"

"Because Officer Lodge is on guard outside your door."

I heard a woman's sleepy voice speaking in a soft, unsure whisper. "I think he's sleeping, dear. It's probably not what you think -- he isn't even in uniform."

More whispers followed as she urged him to hang up and he argued with her. I didn't wait to find out which Donovan would win that fight. I snapped the phone shut and marched into the front room, not even bothering to grab my robe before I threw the door open.

"You stupid, obstinate--"

Noah woke with a start, the deck chair he'd pinched from my back patio falling over with him in it. He shook his head, rubbed at his eyes. "Don't be angry, baby--"

"Baby!" He was obviously too tired to remember he'd dumped me yesterday morning.

"I mean, Patricia..." He blinked and gave his head another sharp shake. "I was just..."

He floundered some more as my temper boiled over. "Noah Lodge, you colossal asshole--"

The words froze in my mouth. He'd put a jacket on sometime last night after I'd locked the door on him. It was the same one he'd been wearing yesterday afternoon. As he picked himself up from the ground, the pockets spilled. Loose change, a slip of paper and a little black box came tumbling out.

Noah's gaze followed mine. Seeing the box, he scooped it up and shoved it deep into his pocket like he was burying a mistake. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You are -- and you clearly don't want me here -- so I'll leave."

Still talking, he started to turn away.

"What was that?"

"What?" His hand flexed inside his pocket, telling me he knew exactly what I was inquiring after.

Instead of walking away when I didn't answer him, he bent down and gathered the rest of the spilled contents from the ground, the yellow slip of paper disappearing into the same pocket as the box.

I told myself the box wasn't what I thought it was -- it couldn't be. Lots of things come in little black boxes. It could be anything, could be for anyone. I knew that, but I couldn't keep my mouth shut. "You know what I'm talking about."

His hand twisted inside the pocket but didn't emerge. "Nothing you care to see, baby girl."

His tone and the stress of the last two days hit me all at once. My knees buckled, my body folding faster than the kid had last night. As fast as I fell, Noah still managed to rip the screen door open and catch me before I hit the floor.

"You're shaking, baby."

No fucking joke. I pushed at him, tried to extract myself from his strong arms even though I had been dying all night just to have him hold me again.

"Stop fighting, Pattycake. You promised no more pulling away."

I batted at his chest. "I didn't pull away!"

That wasn't true. I had pulled away -- but not first. Not first, not until after he'd run out and ignored my text and made it clear to Darling that he was just looking after his best friend's little sister. I swung at him again, the attempt futile as he cinched me against him, erasing the space between us, and stood up.

"You're the one who ran out," I reminded him. "First light and you were out the door."

"I know, baby. I was scared shitless." Cradling me against his chest, Noah shoved the door shut with his foot. He carried me to the couch. Still holding me, he sat down.

"You want to know what's in the box, Patricia Harper, pull it out and see for yourself." He was staring hard at me, his gaze as unreadable as his voice was strained.

I reached my fingers into the pocket but he stopped me. He fished the slip of paper out, folding it until just the name of a store and the date stamp were visible.

Shit, he'd driven to Tiffany's in Atlanta. Whatever was inside the box, he had purchased it Saturday at a little after one pm.

I drew a hard breath in. "Why'd you run out yesterday morning -- you wouldn't even look me in the eye."

Half-question, half-accusation, the words erupted in a stuttering mess.

"Baby girl, you think I'm a player -- an absolute dog."

I shot him a look, letting him know I wasn't the only woman in a hundred mile radius holding that opinion.

"Not with you, baby. Never with you." A smile crept along his face, faltering as his mouth began to tremble. "I couldn't look at you because I was afraid I'd find you pulling away. I needed something to show you I was serious before you had the chance to shut me out again. That's why I didn't answer your text, either."

I buried my face against his shoulder, my hand inching toward the pocket. He wrapped his fingers around mine. "Not yet, Pattycake."

Twisting to his side, Noah dumped me on my butt. Pushing the coffee table away from the couch, he got down on one knee. He reached into his pocket, his hand pausing. He stared at my clothing, seeming to notice for the first time that morning just how little I had on. The lacy camisole was held together in the front with silk ties threaded beneath my breasts to lift them. Lace tap pants covered my bottom -- barely.

He sucked his bottom lip in, his eyes slowly closing.

When he opened them again, his hot gaze pinned me to the couch. "You're letting me take that off," he warned before his hand emerged with the box.

The box popped open with an upward swipe of his thumb, revealing a princess-cut diamond surrounded on all four sides with a row of smaller round brilliants, another row encased in the platinum band.

"Yes!"

Half smiling, he licked at his top lip before his tongue slowly curled back inside. "Baby, slow down. I didn't ask anything yet."

I nodded, a blush heating my cheeks. More than embarrassment, I was flushed from that little display of tongue and the knowledge of how very skilled it was.

"You remember that time when you were ten and I beat the crap out of Joey Stahls?"

I nodded again. Joey had made the very dumb mistake of pushing me down at the bus stop and telling me my freckles were dried lice.

"Well, when my daddy was done tanning my butt, he asked me why I did it." He stopped, his cheeks burning a bright pink beneath his summer tan. "I told him--"

His voice broke and he had to start over. "I told him it was because Joey had hurt you and made you cry and I had to kick Joey's ass because I was going to marry you when I grew up."

My breathing shallowed to nothing. He'd been twelve. "You grew out of it, you had--"

"I didn't." His gaze dipped in confession. "I know I dated other women -- had to stand by and watch you date other men. It was..."

"What Mike wanted," I finished, reaching out to stroke my hand along his cheek. I laughed softly, wondering how we were going to explain things to my big brother. "Maybe he's grown out of it by now."

Smiling, Noah pressed his face against my palm. "It doesn't matter if he has. Nobody is getting between us ever again."

"Good." The word left me in a breathless whisper.

My hand trembled. He took it in his, plucking the engagement ring from the box and poising it against the end of my finger. He looked up at me, his gaze hot and earnest. "Patricia Louise Harper, will you marry me?"

I stared at him, still stunned that he was on bended knee in the house I'd grown up in -- that we'd both grown up in -- asking me to be his wife.

"Baby, now is when you're supposed to say
yes
."

I nodded, my head bobbing profusely.

His eyes cracked at the edges, a big smile breaking across his face. "Yes, baby?"

"Yes," I agreed, tears spilling from my eyes. "I'll marry you, Noah Eugene Lodge." My head bobbed some more. "I will."

He slid the ring on my finger. His gaze slowly lifted from my hand, lingering along the lace edges of my camisole before he looked me in the eyes again and softly asked, "Now, baby girl, how do you want to celebrate?"

I answered just as softly, my own broad smile shaping the words. "In the bedroom."

********************

"Baby, I already know what I want for my wedding present." Noah sat me down at the edge of the bed, his fingers tracing the contours of my shoulders as he spoke.

Hearing those words, I felt like pinching myself. I half expected to wake up any second and discover it was still Friday and none of the weekend had transpired.

One hand toying with the camisole's front tie, he cupped the base of my head, forcing me to look up at him. "Don't you want to know what it is?"

I gave a slow blink and the tiniest nod, too mesmerized by his touch to fully respond.

He blinked back, a grin fighting its way onto his face as he bit at his bottom lip. "That blue sketchbook in your studio."

His voice was liquid heat and my gaze went wide. I only had one blue sketchbook and there was just one type of picture in it. Me, naked, page after page.

Blushing, I pressed my lip together. "I didn't think you saw that."

"Baby, if you had dropped your gaze just a little when I was checking your bedroom window, you would have known I looked through it." Noah tugged at the tie, the ribbons slowly unknotting to expose my breasts. He took my nipple between his thumb and index finger, grinding until I pushed forward with a moan and filled his palm with my breast.

"Worried as I was about your safety, those sketches..." He cleared his throat and a shiver ran through him. "They definitely had an effect."

I glanced down, seeing the same effect in place. Noah's erection strained against the front of his jeans, the zipper bulging out to remind me how very thick and long his cock was. Slowly unzipping him, I whimpered -- my voice and pussy wet with need. I'd imagined sucking him dozens of times, my mouth swallowing him whole. Now I knew it would take more than my mouth to cover all of him.

His fingers threaded through my hair, caressing and tugging as I pushed the band of his underwear down. His cock emerged, jutting forward in search of my lips. I wrapped my hand three quarters around the swollen shaft, leaving more than half his length uncovered. I rested my forehead against the hard plane of his stomach, while my pussy clenched in jealousy at what so generously filled my hand.

Noah let me take one swipe of my tongue across the plump head and then he pushed me onto my back. I wanted another lick and another, wanted to feel the thick shaft stretching my mouth wide as the head kissed the back of my throat. "Noah--"

His hand landed between my legs, his gaze glittering dangerously as he stroked the lace panties. "What, baby?"

His fingers slid beneath the fabric and took up a drifting waltz along my clit.

"I..." I lifted my hips, my eyes squeezing shut. He had me so close already. My thighs trembled, cream pulsing from me with just a few strokes of his thumb along the spiny ridge of my sex. "I can't remember."

"That's okay, baby. I do."

I opened my eyes long enough to see a sly grin as he sank onto his knees and pulled my bottom to the edge of the mattress.

"Yeah?" I asked. I felt like I'd left my brain back in the front room. I was all senses now. Flesh bumps skated across my skin, chasing the brush of his fingers. My nose was filled with his masculine scent and the smell of my wet pussy mixing with my own fragrances. Thunder filled my ears as my whole body tensed in anticipation of where Noah might touch me next.

"You were going to tell me to do this." He caught the top band of the panties and stripped them from me. My bottom half bare, Noah pressed against my knees, coaxing me to open completely to him. He ran his tongue along the edge of my puffed labia, the flesh swollen from my heightened arousal.

His teeth gently nibbled at the dangle of my clit, his bottom lip pressing up under the hood to work the small pearl-like glans back and forth. He kept my pussy spread wide, his shoulders a wedge as his mouth moved more vigorously, his face shaking side to side as his tongue probed deep into my cunt. In seconds, he pushed me right up to the edge of my climax.

He pulled back, eyeing my heaving breasts and undulating hips. I moaned, begged him not to tease me. The pad of his thumb pressed along my clit as he gently worked three fingers into my pussy. I tightened around them, sensing it would take no more than a few strokes before I was crying his name, my climax pounding through me.

He pulled back again. I whimpered, my ass and thighs tense and trembling.

His mouth descended, his tongue taking feather light strokes all along my pussy -- the spine of my clit, the edges of my labia, the quivering rim of my wet hole.

"Noah..." I reached for his head.

He dipped to the side, evading me. Both hands lighted on my pussy, one pinching and stroking my clit and swollen lips, while the fingers of the other took thick, shallow dips inside me.

"You look so exquisite right at the edge, baby." His strokes along my clit slowed as his fingers pushed deeper into my cunt. "I want to keep you hanging there as long as I can."

My pussy knotted around him. Covering my face, I pulled at my hair. His fingers twisted inside me, my hips lifted higher with each degree turned. Pinching my clit, he pulled it taut. I felt the cold whisper of air as he blew against the underside of its hood.