Sugarbaby (11 page)

“I remember you mentioning it.”

“I wanted to see how you reacted to the idea. And I wasn't sure I'd ever be with you again until I realized that it's all I wanted—to be with you again.”

How could he say such things so boldly? His directness made my heart pulse at about a hundred times the speed it was already going.

“What if I'd refused to sign it?” I asked. “I wouldn't have, but still.”

He sent me his patented, knee-wobbling smile, and I knew that he would've talked me into an NDA, just like a shark might talk an angelfish into its path. And, damn me, I would've gone there.

He brushed a hand over my arm, and I nearly jolted. “There's nothing in that agreement that's bad. I'm not going to take advantage of you in any way. There's even a copy in the dashboard for you.”

I didn't look. “You're just protecting your reputation. I know.” Absently, I reached up to touch where he'd touched, and when I realized I was doing it, I stopped.

His gaze lingered on my arm. Heat—it filled that gaze. It filled me.

Gripping the wheel, he concentrated on driving as I spoke.

“I would never tell the press where you are.”

“You said that before.” He glanced at me again, his face serious now. And when he lifted his hand to skim my cheek, I gripped the coffee tray.

My skin burned under his knuckles, and when he dropped his hand and put it back on the steering wheel, I still felt him on me. In me.

“What do I tell my friends?” I asked softly.

“What would you tell them without having signed an NDA?”

The patch of flesh he'd touched kept sizzling. “I suppose I'd tell them that after you had lunch with me, you gave me a few gifts. I actually did tell some friends that already, before I signed anything. But that's all I've said.”

“It's okay.” He paused. “You don't have the kind of friends who run to the papers or the blogs, anyway. Am I right?”

“Darn straight.” I laughed. “The people you hang around with . . . is that what they do on a regular basis?”

“Unfortunately.” He turned onto a dirt road, the moonlight drifting through the dust. I knew this path led to the old high school.

I leaned back against the headrest. “It must be hard to have friends like that.”

“It was.”

His use of the past tense didn't escape my notice, but I didn't dwell on it long because he'd pulled onto the blacktop of a basketball court with weeds thrusting through the cracks. It was next to the massive wall of the gym, and on that wall was . . .

A huge white canvas?

Then I saw what else our headlights revealed: something that looked like a projector alongside a computer on a low table.

Noah had cut the engine, leaving on the headlights, coming around to open my door. I set down the coffee tray, and he helped me out once again while I reveled in the warmth of his skin against mine. This time, I held onto him and not the other way around.

“Aidan Falls used to have a drive-in,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“It was torn down to make way for the strip mall years ago.”

“I thought this town could use one, at least for the night.”

Was he kidding? But as I wandered closer to the projection setup, I knew that this guy was for real. He was a dream-maker, and every day, he brought more fantasies to life. Surely this couldn't last. When would he get tired of entertaining me, seeing each surprise light me up?

“It's an eleven-thousand lumen projector,” he said on a note of what I thought might be great pride.

I realized why. “Does your company make these?”

“We do.” He'd used the present tense this time, and I could've sworn that he sounded steely now, like the businessman who was going to go back to New York to take his rightful place again. “Simmons used some of his connections to rush it here, after I got the idea for a movie night.” He chuckled. “I've never been to a drive-in.”

I merely shook my head, but that wasn't all Noah had planned. He led me to the back of the pickup, where there were mounds of blankets, a couple of folded rec chairs, a cooler, and a closed box of what I assumed was more food.

“So you didn't need any coffee after all,” I said.

“Not really.”

“Figures.”

“It's probably cold now, anyway, but I have hot chocolate in a thermos. Chef made it special, from scratch, just like those brownies you brought me. There's also lobster pizza, portobello sliders, and truffle-laced chips.”

Wow. “You think of everything.”

“Not really. I couldn't predict what movie you'd want to watch, but we can get nearly anything on the computer. I rigged up a wireless hotspot.” He leaned his arm on the edge of the pickup's bed, so carefree again, so breathtaking in the moonlight. “What do you like? Something scary? Something girly?”

“Girly? Do you mean a rom-com or Nicholas Sparks flick?”

He shrugged, but I could tell he was dreading anything that involved long walks on the beach with starlets or rain-soaked emotion. In my experience, most guys avoided those flicks, even if some of them lived those stories to one degree or another.

“I might be in the mood for something scary,” I said. “Halloween's coming up.”

“That's my girl.” He pushed away from the pickup, already moving toward the cab with a slow but purposeful stride. I could see how he got things done in the city—he always seemed to know where he wanted to be.

At least in most ways.

“I'll pull the truck around,” he said. “I've always wanted to watch from a flatbed at a drive-in.”

As I walked away from the pickup, giving him room to maneuver, I realized that Noah wasn't only making fantasies come true for me—he was fulfilling a few for himself. A Roman holiday. A man under pressure who was finding peace in a town that didn't see him for who he was.

A billionaire who just wanted to go to a drive-in.

I'd gone for an oldie but goody from the online movie library.

The first
Friday the 13th
was
kiiii . . . hehhh
-ing its way over the makeshift screen against the old high school gym, and Noah and I had blankets bundled over us in the flatbed of his pickup. I was in one low chair, he was in the other, and even though there were only a few inches between us, it felt like a canyon.

I sank farther down as some unwitting girl on the screen poked around an archery range in the dark.

“When is it going to finally show Jason?” I asked, kind of wishing I'd picked a different flick. I'd seen some of the later ones in this series, and they were pretty silly.
This
was actually creepy, and I wasn't sure I liked it.

“Jason isn't the murderer in this movie. Haven't you seen
Scream
, either?”

“Hello, spoilers!”

“You're the one who asked.” He teasingly pulled at my blanket, and I nearly flew out of my seat, especially when the girl in the movie got plugged with an arrow from the shadowed murderer. I guessed it wasn't Jason doing the shooting, thanks to Noah.

Since I'd already munched down on the snacks and had some hot chocolate, my stomach wasn't thanking me—not with the scary-movie stress I was putting it through. It didn't help that our surroundings were dark, with bad things seemingly lurking around every corner of the old high school. If we were in a horror flick, we'd be such dead meat.

“I never knew I was a weenie before,” I said, pulling my blanket to just under my eyes as the movie played its off-tune psycho music.

Noah gave me a look, and I could tell he was wondering if I was putting on an act to get him to cuddle with me. I wish I'd thought of that sooner.

He reached down and tugged my chair toward his so that they were flush together. I hadn't known they had armrests you could flip up until he did that, as well.

Every move he made robbed me of breath, especially as he slid his arm behind me, his fingers on my waist, bringing me to him.

The lining of my tummy began to quiver, and I pressed my fists to my chest, trying to regain control of myself. These weren't the scary movie shakes—not anymore. “Now I know why you were so excited when I picked out a horror film. You know how to take advantage of one.”

He whispered into my ear. “Hell, even where I live, this is how guys operate. It's good to have an excuse to get you closer.” He laid part of his own blanket over me, cocooning us loosely.

We stayed like that, with me holding my breath, with his hand on my waist, slipping down to my hip. At first, I warned myself—
don't go too far
—and stayed sitting upright until it felt stiff and weird to be that way. So I slowly but surely laid my head on his shoulder.

Better. A lot better. He even exhaled, his chest falling then rising again, moving me with it.

The scary movie parts came fast and furious from that point on, but with his strong arm around me, I didn't see the shadows around us quite as much.

When the movie finished, a still image from the flick stayed on the screen, thanks to the computer, but neither of us moved to turn it off. The cool air just hung there, nearly soundless, and I hoped my beating heart wasn't making too much noise.

“Want another movie?” he asked quietly.

I liked hearing the hum of his words in his chest, and I wanted him to talk again. “It's getting late. My friends are coming over for breakfast so I should be more than a functioning zombie when they arrive.”

“I'll have you back way before sunrise.”

Odd that I felt safe around him, this man who was still such a stranger.

Then he said out of nowhere, “For intermission, why don't you tell me about those boys who broke your heart.”

Boys? What boys? Right now, it didn't feel like I had any past, just a present, just a here and now with the feel of his chest under my cheek.

“Is this really a good time to talk about them?” I asked.

“I want to know.”

He'd told me this morning that he aimed to get me to open up to him, and this was only a part of that. And when he ran his fingers down my hip to trace a circle there, I was willing to give him this one small thing.

“You already found out the basics,” I said. “The whole scandal.”

“I want to know what happened before. What was it about Rex that attracted you? And Micah?”

Was there a hint of jealousy in there? I didn't dare hope. But he was toying with the bottom of my T-shirt now, flirting his finger below it, against my skin, and hope wasn't out of the question.

I stirred, tightness winding me up between my thighs. “I had a crush on Rex since my junior year in high school. He was the big man on campus and I was . . . I guess a ‘librarian' is as good a description as any. Senior class president, haunter of the book stacks, all that. But Rex liked to date the cheerleaders back then. He told me later that he'd always noticed me but didn't think he had a shot. That was fairly humble of him.”

“Why do you say that?”

I slightly looked up at him, the flannel of his shirt brushing my cheek. “Because Rex isn't humble. I was doing snark, Reeves. I've got a little in me, too.”

He laughed, jogging my head on his chest, and I inched my hand to his rib cage. I felt him inhale deeply, as if I'd shocked him. He eased his fingers farther into my shirt so he was touching my stomach, leaving marks on me that I was sure would never burn off.

My belly shook even harder, tiny quakes. Maybe he thought I was cold because he used his other hand to adjust the blanket over me.

He spoke into my hair. “You don't seem like the type who'd go for a jock who doesn't have anything else to offer. I've seen Rex's social media posts, and he isn't exactly Einstein. So what made you think you were made for each other?”

Something defensive popped up in me. “The football boosters arranged tutors for him, and he did well enough to keep up his grades for a scholarship. He can just be lazy with the books.”

“Okay. I'm sure he has a good side.”

I felt like a fool for coming to Rex's rescue, but there was no use in bashing him. “There's a good side, yeah. That's not what stood out for me at first, though. He tends to hide that side from everyone until you're alone with him. My friend Shelby and I tried to figure out why we found ourselves attracted to Rex in the first place, and it just came down to basic teenage lust.”

“Shelby's the one he was dating before you, and she honeytrapped him.”

“Right.” The word snagged inside of me as Noah skimmed his finger close to my belly button. A harmless touch, but damn, it was about to do some damage, based on the pressure building in my tummy.

I went on. “Shelby wasn't quite the same as I was in high school—she was a little rebellious, but still a good student. She didn't care what anyone thought about her, but I did. I was never comfortable in my skin until Rex broke up with Shelby during college and noticed me. Of course, I thought I could make myself his end-all-be-all, but as we dated, I started to get suspicious that he was unfaithful, the same as Shelby did. We were right, but at the time, I didn't call him out on it. All I did was get neurotic about him, and I ended up being the cheater.” I sighed. “I should've never been so blown away by him that I failed to notice I was the rebound girl and that was all.”

“Sometimes the rebound girls are the girls you should've been with in the first place.”

I lifted my head higher this time so I could see him all the way. The night cooled my face, already missing his warmth. “Is this where you tell me about
your
girls?”

“Believe me, my history's tame compared to yours.”

“Right.”

He smiled, and a beat went by, a bubble of time in which the seconds seemed to circle around themselves as we looked at each other.

Was he going to kiss me again?
Please, kiss me
.

But the bubble burst when he murmured, “I've always been too busy to have anyone special. I've had a lot of dates, a lot of go-to women who felt the same casual way about me but . . .”

“You've never been in love?”

“Never.”

His control astounded me. How could you keep yourself from falling in love? Didn't it just happen? I should know, because I was sure I'd been on my way to falling for Rex, or at least close to it. Uncle Joseph had even liked him whenever he'd come to visit, playing board games or watching sports with him. We hadn't dated that long, but I'd seen the good in Rex then, and I'd been optimistic.

Noah cupped his hand to the side of my head, leading me down to his shoulder again. I sighed into him, then started to hold my breath when he resumed stroking his finger over my stomach. Circles, round and round, slow and sensuous. Every design made me yearn for him more.

“Does Rex come around much now?” he asked.

“No. He's living the life of a rising QB star at Texas-U.”

“How about Micah?”

“You sure are a glutton for punishment, wanting to hear all these details.”

“I'm interested, Jade,” he whispered, gripping my waist.

I held back a gasp.

As something started to open inside me, like a blooming heat, I forced myself to talk. “Micah was a weakness that came from a lack of confidence about Rex. I thought Rex still loved Shelby, and one night when I was at my worst, Micah was there.”

“I read that he gets around.”

“He used to. Not anymore. Not since he fell for Shelby. She brings out the best in him.”

He seemed to turn that over in his mind as his fingers moved on my flesh, caressing, almost as if he didn't realize what he was doing to me: the pressure in my belly pulsing outward, petaling apart until I had to bite my lip and press my face into his shoulder.

“We all need people who bring out the best in us,” he said.

I was getting close to being brought out, all right. “And who does that for you?”

With one sure move, he ended the conversation, swinging me up and over until I was almost on top of him, one of my legs between his, my hands braced on his shoulders, the blanket half off of me.

I was so taken off balance that all I could do was look down at him while another bubble of time expanded between us.

His eyes bright with fever.

His lips parted with a hunger that I felt, too.

He slid a hand up my back until he came to my hair, planting his fingers in it, pulling me down to him. When our mouths crushed together, I moaned, and when his other hand nestled under my T-shirt to ease up and over the small of my back, I moved my hips ever so slightly.

I hadn't meant to. This was going too fast.

And too slow.

I kissed him with a searing need pushing me on, making me devour him as much as he was devouring me. We found a cadence, sucking, nipping at each other, breathing short and sharp, my head spinning until I didn't know up from down.

Colors peeled apart from one another in my mind, and I felt as if I were being stripped, layer by layer, exposed as he kissed me and kissed me and I died a little with every passing second.

Weak . . . formless . . . melting into him . . . wanting more than I should . . .

I had no sanity anymore. How else could I explain it when I reached down to take his hand, pressing him against the middle of my legs?

He moaned as I intuitively wiggled my hips again, wanting him to touch me harder, to stroke me and stroke me until I cried out with a small release that wouldn't do anything to put out this fire.

“God dammit,” he whispered roughly under my mouth. Then he lost his willpower, too, working at the buttons of my jeans.

“Yes . . .” I heaved in a breath, the blanket slouching off me with my sudden move. I didn't mind the cold. I didn't mind anything as he reached into my jeans and my panties.

And when he massaged me, taking his time, up and down, up and down, he got me wetter than I'd ever been.

I pressed every sound back into myself, enjoying the tension, the erotic buildup that threatened to burst, pushing at me . . .

With a smooth thrust, he eased a finger into me, and I gasped loudly. Too loudly, and I bit my lip until he brought my head down with his other hand to kiss me again.

He slipped his tongue into me, following the sultry rhythm of his finger as he pumped in . . . out . . . With every motion, I churned, asking for more, becoming the girl I'd been running from, dancing on the edge of coming for him, getting so close . . .

I was so overwhelmed that I didn't realize Noah had stopped, even though his finger was still inside me, his lips still against mine.

“I don't want it to end here,” he said softly, tickling my lips. “But if I don't stop now, I
won't
stop.”

A sound bleeped from behind us, and I leaned away from him, my heart kicking at my chest as I realized that the computer had gone to sleep and the movie screen was blank, leaving us in the moonlight.

Another moon-soaked night, a memory, came to me then: a bonfire, a keg, Micah Wyatt grinning at me and leading me into a temptation I should've learned from.

Too fast
, I thought again, pushing an escaped cluster of curls away from my face.
Think before you do anything else
.

“Maybe you really are a gentleman,” I said.

He kissed me again, long and hard, taking his finger out of me. He left behind an ache, and I wanted to press my hand to myself to make it go away. But Noah was already buttoning me back up.

Then he kissed me one more time, and it was soft, almost questioning.

How long will I be waiting?
it asked.

As I rolled off him, he didn't protest. Not exactly. He only leaned forward as if he was in some kind of pain. I didn't mean to be a tease.

“We should call it a night,” I said.