Noah's clicking away on his phone when I meet him in the private room and my stomach jumps again.
I could always change my mind, I remind myself. There is no obligation there. But his head shoots up from his phone to study me before I can turn back and run away.
Like I always do.
"Sorry I'm late," I say.
He waves it off. "Lacey told me to meet you here."
"Yes, that was the idea."
He doesn't ask any more questions like I thought he would, just steps forward. "You look great."
"I feel great." I smile. "Lacey and Simone get a charge out of going through my closet and criticizing my wardrobe. I'm told this is about the only decent thing I own." I pluck at the skirt. "They've threatened to take me shopping."
Stop babbling! I order myself, moving behind the mini bar. "Want a drink?"
"I'm driving."
"Actually, I was thinking we could just stay in." There, now I'd done it.
"In?"
"Yeah. I thought we could just stay in, relax." The bottle clinks hard on wood when I set it down. "Simone has a suitcase full of videos if we want a movie, and there's food."
I tear off the foil, twist the wire free. "Unless you want to go out."
"No." He focuses on the bottle when I pop the cork. "Champagne? Are we celebrating?"
"Yeah." If I can just manage to get a grip on the glasses. "I think Autumn's setting in. I saw dried leaves today."
His lips twitches as he takes the glass. "It's almost that time of the year."
"Oh, the hell with this." I mutter, then down the bubbly wine in my glass in two long gulps. "I'm no good at games. This is Simone and Lacey's idea anyway." Debating another, I set my empty glass down, look him dead in the eye. "Look, the point is, Noah, I'm ready."
"Okay." Baffled, he takes a sip of champagne. "You want to go out after all?"
"No, no." I press my fingers against my eyes, take a deep breath. "I'm ready to have sex with you."
He chokes, manages to wheeze in air, sputter it out. "Excuse me?"
"Why dance around all this?" I come out from behind the bar.
Noah takes another drink. "Just like that?"
The horror in his voice has me fumbling. What if he'd just been stringing me along?
Why then, I think, he'd have to die.
"Isn't it what you wanted?" I try not to snap. "So?"
"Just, I'm ready now so yippee?"
"What's wrong with that?" I jerk a shoulder. "Unless you've changed your mind."
"No, I haven't changed my mind. It's not a matter of changing my mind. It's... Jesus, Allie." He sets the glass on the bar. "You've thrown me off the stride."
"Oh." Confusion fades from my eyes and my mouth curves into a smile. "Is that all?"
"What do you expect?" His voice shoots out, filled with male frustration. "You stand there all prettied up, shove champagne at me, and tell me you want to have sex. How am I supposed to keep my rhythm?"
Maybe he has a point, though I can't see it yet. But he looks sort of cute, all flustered and embarrassed. So I'll humor him.
"Okay." I close the distance, wound my arms around his neck. "Let's see if we can get your rhythm back." And press my mouth hard to his.
His reaction is quick. The way his arms comes up, bands me, the way his lips angles and feeds, the quick intake and release of his breath. Then, when his lips gentles, the way he murmurs my name.
"Your gait seems steady enough to me." Now my voice is shaky. The muscles in my thighs are vibrating like harp strings. "I want you, Noah. I really want you." I prove it by locking my mouth to his again, then tearing it again to rain kisses over his face. "We don't have to go back there. The couch."
"Hold on. Slow down, before I rip your clothes off and ruin it. Slow down." He repeats, holding me close. "I've got to get my feet back under me, and you've got to be sure. It's going to be really tough to back off if you change your mind."
With a laugh, I boost myself up, wrap my legs around his waist. "Do I look like I'm going to change my mind?"
"Guess not. Inside." He manages to walk to the bedroom from the mini living room we are in even as I tighten my grip and start nibbling at his jaw. "The first time should be in a bed."
"Was yours?"
"No, actually. It was on a rig in the middle of winter and I nearly froze my... never mind."
I chuckle, nuzzle at his throat. "This'll be better. Won't it?"
"Yeah." He stops at the doorway of the main room. Candles burn everywhere and the fire glows low. The bed is turned down, inviting with dozens of pillows.
"Simone and Lacey," I explain. "They really got into this."
He sets me on my feet, backs up a step.
"Oh, and I forgot." I hurry to the table by the window and fiddle with Lacey's CD player. "Music." I explain. "Lacey says it's mandatory."
I can't hear anything over the knocking of my own heart. His hair is falling down to his forehead just a little, and the firelight shines on his face.
So beautiful.
"That should do it," I continue. "Unless we should have the champagne back here."
"That's alright. Later."
"Okay." I lift my hands, begin to undo the buttons of the dress while his mouth falls open. My busy fingers flips open six before he can get his tongue off his toes.
"Hold it. Slow down. If you're going to strip for a guy, you should pace yourself."
"Is that so?" Intrigued, I stop, watch his gaze dip to my fingers. "I'm not wearing a stitch under here," I say conversationally. "Lacey said something about contrast and impact."
"Oh, good Jesus." He steps to me. "Don't take it off." His voice thickens, and the sound of it has my fingers pausing, trembling. "Let me finish it."
"Alright." Odd, my arms feels heavy now. I let them fall to my sides as he slips the rest of the buttons free. It's a lovely sensation, the skin of his knuckles over my skin. "Shouldn't you be groping me or something?"
Noah laughs. "I'll get to it." My dress is open now, with light and shadow playing over my bare flesh. "Just stand there." He says quietly, and touches his mouth to mine. "Can you do that?"
"Yeah. But my knees are going to start knocking."
"Just stand there," he repeats, touching only mouth to mouth as he undoes his shirt. "Let me taste you awhile. Here." His lips cruises over my jaw. "Here." Up to my ear. "You can trust me."
"I know." My eyes are heavy, I feel the lids dropping as his mouth toys with mine. "Whenever you chew on my lip that way, I can't get my breath."
"Want me to stop?"
"No. I like it," I say dreamily. "I can breathe later."
He tosses his shirt aside. "I want to see you, Allie. Let me look at you."
Slowly, he slides the dress from my shoulders, let it drift to the floor. "You're beautiful."
It's an effort not to lift my hands to cover myself. No one had ever said that to me. Not once in my life. "You always said otherwise."
"Beautiful." He cups a hand to the back of my neck, draws me slowly toward him. His fingers combs up, my hair tumbles down. He gathers it, gives it a tug, and my head jerks back. He samples the exposed line of my throat where my pulse is rabbiting and nibbles lazily on it.
My hands comes up to his shoulders for balance and finds smooth skin, taut muscles, an old scar. I hadn't expected this. I thought it would be fast, a grappling match full of grunts and howls. How could I have known there would be tenderness mixed with the heat? And the heat is huge.
"Noah?"
"Hmm?"
"I don't think I can stand up anymore."
His lips curves against my neck. "Just another minute. I haven't quite finished."
When my eyes droops, he lifts me into his arms and lays me on the bed.
"You still have your pants on."
"It would be better for both of us if I keep them on awhile yet."
"Okay." His hands are roaming again, and I'm beginning to float. "Lacey— in the drawer there— condoms."
"I'll take care of it. Let go for me." He trails a line of kisses down my throat. "Just let it all go." With a shudder of his own, he takes a breast into his mouth. I arch, the breath exploding through my lips. Sensation careens through my system, flashing with heat, urging my hips to grind with the rhythm he set. He bites lightly, but the sensation is no kin to pain.
He takes my mouth again as my tongue tangles with his in an avid dance. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I can hear the quiet thrum of music.
"Look at me." He brushes a hand up the length of my leg, stopping just short of the heat, retreating. "Look at me. I want to see your eyes for the first time. I want to see what it does to you."
"I can't." But my eyes are open, wide and blind. My body is on the edge of something, like a high cliff where the wind both pulls and pushes. I hear him tug at the snap of his jeans.
"Don't fall asleep," he begs as he hears me sigh. "For God's sake don't fall asleep."
But this current state of floaty relaxation is the next best thing. I stretch, and I see the firelight dance over me, rippling golds and reds and ambers. His mouth closes over mine.
"Let me have you, Allie. Hold on to me and let me have you."
And my arms comes around him as he slides into me. Going slowly, he fists his hand on either side of the bed, watches my face. Watches it so intently, so closely that he sees those flickers of shock, of acceptance, and finally, of dark pleasure.
"Oh, it's wonderful." I breathe out the words as he moves inside me. "Really wonderful."
I give up my innocence without regret, with a smile bowing my lips as I match him stroke for slow stroke. I see need in his eyes, need focused only and fully on me. When I look deeper, I see myself reflect back in them, lost in them.
And this, I think, when he finally buries his face in my hair and empties himself, is beauty.