“’Back when?’” Noah repeated. He seemed amused by this, too. “Are you even old enough to have a ‘back when’?”
“I’m twenty-one.”
“So no, then.” He pushed my cup of coffee over to me. “The study you’re talking about involved high levels of caffeine, the kind that no normal person would ever be able to ingest. And the same study also proved that coffee is the biggest source of antioxidants in the human diet, and as long as you don’t have any underlying health problems, you should be able to drink it without consequence.”
I tried to remember if any of that was true, but I couldn’t. So I took a sip. “Ugh,” I said, forcing myself to swallow. “That’s disgusting. It’s so bitter. It needs sugar.” I glanced around for a sugar bowl, but I didn’t see one.
“That is a premium French roast,” Noah said. “You can’t ruin it with sugar. And besides, sugar isn’t good for you.”
“Says the man whose idea of breakfast is pastries.”
“Sometimes you need to replenish your energy stores.” He grinned at me and I blushed. He leaned back against the counter, his cut abs flexing as he moved.
I wondered again how someone who looked like him wanted to sleep with someone who looked like me. Not that I thought I was ugly – I knew I wasn’t. I was cute, maybe even pretty, in that girl next door kind of way. But Noah.. Noah could have been a model.
Or a murderer, a voice in my head oh-so-helpfully reminded me.
“Would you like to go out for a proper breakfast?” he asked me.
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now. There’s a twenty-four hour diner downstairs.”
I looked at him. “You eat diner food?”
“Yes, Charlotte. I eat diner food. I’m not a total snob.”
“I don’t have any clothes here,” I said.
“What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”
“Your t-shirt and a pair boxer shorts? I really don’t think that’s appropriate, even for a diner.”
He looked at me and pretended to nod seriously, like he could see my point. He set his coffee down on the counter and walked over to where I was sitting. He stood behind me and brushed my hair to the side, then kissed the back of my neck softly. His hands slid down my shoulders, down my arms, stopping at the bottom of my t-shirt.
“Honestly,” he said, as he ran his hands up under the fabric, over the sides of my body, “I’d have to agree with you. This outfit is entirely inappropriate.”
I leaned into him while he kissed a searing line up my neck and his hands explored under my t-shirt. He caressed my stomach and then stopped just under my breasts, teasing me. My nipples hardened.
And then his lips were on mine, soft at first, and then harder, more searching. Our tongues moved in rhythm, sending fire radiating from my center all through my body.
I was sure he was going to fuck me again right there, throw me down on the counter or the floor, push my t-shirt up and have his way with me. But a second later he pulled back from our kiss.
I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His eyes were dark and fiery, and I could feel the want radiating between us.
“Where did you come from?” he whispered.
“Upstate New York,” I whispered back.
He laughed, throwing his head back. “Is that right?”
His hand moved up over my breast then, finally, taking the whole thing in his big hand and squeezing before moving to my nipple. His index finger drew a slow circle around my nipple, until it was tight and hard and I was panting. Then he squeezed so hard it hurt, and I cried out.
This seemed to excite him, and a second later, his mouth was back on mine, only this time, the kiss was hard and deep right from the beginning, the intent behind it clear.
He was going to fuck me again.
And I wanted him to.
But then his phone rang.
He groaned and pulled it out of his pocket, checking the Caller ID.
He frowned and took a step away from me.
“Cutler,” he barked into the phone. “Yeah… on a fucking Saturday? No, Colin, I’m not going to be interrogated on a fucking Saturday… well, I never wanted to cooperate with them anyway… You and I both know that’s bullshit…” He shook his head. “Fine. Fine. No, I’ll be there.”
Noah ended the call and stood there for a moment, looking down at his phone. His body language had changed – where just a moment ago he had been loose and sensual, now he seemed annoyed and tense.
“Was it about your case?” I asked carefully, not wanting to upset him, but also wanting to know what was going on.
“It was Worthington,” he said, his tone cold. “You’re going to have to leave now.”
“Oh.” I nodded. “Oh. Um, okay.” I stood up. “Is there anything… I mean, should I – ”
“No. You should go home, Charlotte. I’ll have my driver take you.” He began dialing another number. “Jared,” he barked into the phone. “Can you bring the car around? I need you to take my guest home, she’ll be going to… “ he trailed off and looked at me expectantly.
“Sugar Hill,” I said, naming the part of the city where my apartment was located.
“Sugar Hill,” Noah repeated into the phone.
My face burned when I realized he didn’t know the most basic facts about me – where I was from, where I lived—and yet we’d done and said things that were shockingly intimate.
“Thank you, Jared.” Noah hung up the phone and began gathering up the breakfast things.
I sat there for a second, feeling awkward. What was I supposed to do now? I couldn’t very well wear his clothes home. It was just boxers and a t-shirt, no bra. Definitely not appropriate for wearing outside. At all.
“I guess… Um, I guess I’ll go get my things,” I said, and Noah gave me a curt nod.
I walked to the bedroom, confused by what had just happened. Why was Noah suddenly shutting down giving me the cold shoulder? Had I done something? I ran the last few moments over in mind, but I couldn’t figure out what had happened. We’d been sitting there, talking and joking around, and then he’d kissed me… it seemed like the call from Professor Worthington had made him upset.
Jesus.
Professor Worthington.
My law professor.
The professor I was technically working for, the one I would need to write me a recommendation for any internships I wanted to pursue, the one who would be responsible for giving me a grade this semester.
The sheets in Noah’s bedroom were in a tangle just the way we’d left them, and I had to hunt for my clothes. I gathered them up then changed back into the skirt and shirt I’d been wearing yesterday.
My face was burning with embarrassment. How could I have been so stupid? Getting involved with a client? Sleeping with him? The first time could be forgiven, but the second….
When I got back to the kitchen, Noah was pouring himself another cup of coffee.
“The car is waiting for you downstairs,” he said.
“Thanks.” I stood there for a moment, not sure what I was supposed to do. “So I guess I’ll be seeing you around… um, on the case, I mean,” I added quickly, just in case he thought I meant I wanted to see him again.