Turning off the sink, I checked myself in the mirror. No mascara streaked down my cheeks, no claw marks striped my neck, not a single hair out of place—there was nothing on the outside to suggest the turmoil churning within.
“You found me.” Grabbing a fresh towel, I wiped the back of my neck to collect any leftover water. “We should probably get back to the table though.”
“I don’t want to go back to the table.” The floor creaked when he moved toward me.
“I know, this is the worst double date ever. I’m sorry for talking you into it, and I’m sorry for the way Dean’s behaving, and . . .” I leaned into the counter after tossing the towel into the basket. “I’ll never ask you to agree to something like this again on a night off. I know there are a million things you’d rather be doing with a few free hours.”
Noah’s head shook infinitesimally. “Not a million.” His voice was different, almost impatient. “Just one.”
I watched him from the mirror, his eyes running over my body in a way that made my throat dry.
“You remember what happened the last time you wore that dress?”
My forehead lined despite the dizzying effect his unrelenting stare had on me. Our prolonged dry spells had been interspersed with bland sex that felt rehearsed and void of passion. But right now, inside this women’s restroom I’d been on the verge of hysterics in, the heat between us was palpable.
“I remember,” I answered. “But we’re not in the front seat of your car.”
Noah stopped behind me, his fingers brushing my neck, gliding down the length of my dress zipper. “Why let that small detail stop us?”
“What if someone tries to come in?” I checked the door in the mirror, feeling myself melt piece by piece the lower his fingers swept.
“I won’t let it stop me.” His other hand settled upon me, slipping beneath my dress.
My hand dug into the edge of the counter when his thumb hooked beneath my underwear. He yanked them down over my hips, letting them fall around my ankles on the floor.
“We have people waiting for us,” I said. My teeth sank into my lip when the sound of his zipper lowering filled the air.
“We won’t be long.” His words hummed against my neck before his lips touched me.
My eyes closed when I felt his body around mine. His foot slid between mine, easing them apart.
“What is this, Noah?” My head fell back over his shoulder when he sucked at my neck, his hands twisting the hem of my dress up higher.
His teeth sank into the patch of skin he’d been sucking, provoking a flinch from me. “This? This part is wanting,” he whispered against me. “The part to follow is having.”
His hand spread across the small of my back, guiding me lower into the counter. A noise rattled deep in my chest when his hips pinned me in place.
“Open your eyes.” Noah voice was strained as his arm slid around me, like a thick rope circling a mast.
Only when my eyes found his in the mirror did he move inside me, slow and controlled, taking his time while all semblance of control spiraled from me.
I had every intention of prolonging the having, to extend the sensation of submission and dominance my body was warring over, but when Noah’s large hand fitted around my throat, squeezing ever so slightly as all restraint faded from his eyes, I felt my world imploding.
“Eyes open.” His fingers tightened, easing back when my focus found its way back to his.
He stared at me through the reflection of the mirror, hands gripping my throat and hip as our bodies moved in a synchronized, yet unchoreographed union until both of us ignited. My name fell from his lips when he strained inside me one last time.
We remained that way for a minute, breaths heavy and bodies trembling. My mind was whirring with questions of reality versus reverie. Noah had never been so bold, not even in our early years together.
A hundred questions were vying for competition when the door abruptly rattled. While I flinched like I’d been caught in my parents’ bedroom with a boy of questionable repute, Noah calmly straightened, smoothing my dress back into place.
“Temporarily closed for maintenance!” he called to whoever was on the outside still trying to get in.
“Maintenance?” I grinned tipsily at him through the mirror as I slid back into my underwear.
“I’ve been neglecting my responsibilities.” His mouth quirked when I turned toward him, my chest still bursting from my dress. “It was time to take care of that.”
“I’m not sure whether to scold or thank you,” I said, adjusting my dress a few more degrees.
“Maybe both are in order.” His hand fell to my lower back as we started for the door.
He pushed the chair back into its place, and when he slid the lock aside and opened the door, the woman waiting on the other side blinked at us in confusion.
“All yours, ma’am,” Noah announced as we whisked by.
“How are we going to explain our prolonged absence when we get back?” I asked, feeling ten years younger weaving through the dining room.
“We don’t have to explain anything. Let them think whatever they want.”
I did one last check of my dress when our table came into view. “When did you become so fearless?”
“Not fearless.” His eyes were light and the ever-present creases of concern were absent from his forehead. “Just don’t give a single shit what Dean Kincaid may or may not think.”
My hand covered my mouth as a laugh escaped. I wasn’t sure I could recall the last time I’d laughed when it hadn’t been rehearsed or forced.
“What’s so funny?” Dean asked as we slid into our chairs, his expression suggesting annoyance.
“The ironies of life,” Noah answered, setting his napkin in his lap and picking up his silverware to dive into his meal.
Dean’s remained untouched in front of him, while Kimberly was several bites into her dressing-free salad.
“Ironies such as?”
Noah gave Dean an ambiguous smile as he chewed his first bite of rare steak.
“You two were gone for a while.” Dean leaned back in his seat, watching me. “We were about to send a search party to see if you’d gotten lost.”
Noah carved another chunk of meat from his steak. When his eyes drifted to mine, my face warmed. Picking up my wine glass, I finished the last sip.
Dean waved between us. “No one rush to answer first.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize there was a question in your last comment.” Noah’s head tipped. “Was there?”
“I thought shrinks were good at reading between the lines.” As Dean reached for the bottle of wine to refill my glass, Noah’s arm swooped in first.
“I am,” Noah answered. Lifting the bottle to my glass, Noah wound his free arm behind me, his hand sweeping my hair over my shoulder.
“Oh my god, you two were screwing in the bathroom, weren’t you?” Kimberly waved her fork my direction. “You have a hickey the size of Rhode Island on your neck that you did not have when you left the table.” Her attention turned to Noah, who she gave a coy wink. “You might look like a square, but there must be an animal hiding beneath all that nerdy wholesomeness. Your wife’s one lucky broad.”