Yes, Mr. Van Der Wells (Not Another Billionaire Romance) (39 page)

Calmer, determined, I reopen my eyes. Noah’s contrite expression makes me wince, apology and devastation in his emerald depths, this along with complete confusion. “Where did you get this?”

“Muscles. I was tailed one morning. My ex wanted me to have it. He wanted to
remind
me.”

“Lotty…Christ, I…I didn’t—”

Moving in, I cut him off by snatching the note from his hand, crumpling it, and tossing it aside. “Noah, I want to be with you. I’ve given it some thought and, although Gloriel won’t approve, yes, I would love to try starting over with you. But…” I sigh, wagging my head. “I don’t want to be
owned
. I don’t want restrictions on my freedom. I want to continue flirting because it’s a part of who I am and it makes me feel free, unchained. But it would be
just
that: flirting. I would never cross a line and get with someone while I’m with you. I would also like to reserve the right to say no to whatever, to refuse to do whatever. And when I have enough cash saved up, I want to have my own place, at least for a few years. If you can’t handle that, then I don’t think we can do this.”

Noah’s lips contort as he mulls these terms over. My terms are a bit on the selfish side, I’m aware, but fresh out of an abusive, restrictive relationship, a relationship where I had almost zero freedom, it’s all I can offer right now.

His gaze falls from mine, and he shifts, gesturing to the table. “Can we eat?”

I move two steps to the left, so I’m half in front of him, aiming to get his eyes, but he won’t give them to me. “Will we work?”

With a small shake of his head, he scratches his jaw, and then rests his hands on his hips. He gives me his eyes now. Torn and crestfallen. “I can’t…no.”

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I step back, waves of disappointment engulfing me.
We won’t work.
We aren’t meant to work. We were pushing something unrealistic. His experiences have influenced his terms, and my experiences have influenced mine. And neither of us are willing to compromise. We’re both bat shit scared of taking the risk. Guarding our hearts. At a stalemate, we’ve no choice but to let this go.

“Well, that’s that,” I murmur through a nervous laugh. “I guess we can eat now.”

My hands are slightly shaking as I pick up one of the takeout boxes, and lower down to the couch. I don’t understand my shaking. I don’t understand my sudden need to burst into tears. I don’t understand feeling as though I’ve just lost something. Something monumental. Life changing. 

Can disappointment feel this physical? Like a boa constrictor tightening around me? Seems I’m in a lot deeper than I initially thought.

Expelling a breath identical to my own, Noah, too, picks up a takeout box and lowers down beside me.

I get the remote and hit play.

We sit like that, stiff and awkward and wordless. Two episodes later, neither of us has tasted a morsel of our food. And I’m 99% positive, that if we should ask each other, neither of us would be able to tell the other what on earth happened in those two episodes. 

I can’t sleep.

But tonight’s insomnia has nothing at all to do with Andrew’s imminent attack and everything to do with the fall through of mine and Noah’s relationship agreement. I don’t get why I’m so freaking cut up about it. I mean, shouldn’t I be glad at this outcome? Wasn’t it mere days ago I was adamant that a relationship is
not
what I’m about at this chaotic and confusing point in my life?

‘
Yes
,’ Rational Lotty answers for me. ‘
Which shows that you have compromised and he hasn’t. You went from wanting ‘just sex’ to wanting him but nothing serious, and from that to agreeing to something serious if he would just grant you a handful of concessions, considering your last relationship. You are not the one being unreasonable here. He is. The only thing you did wrong was fall for him. That’s why it hurts so much, that’s why the disappointment cuts so deeply. Because you made the mistake of falling.’

‘
And without sex, too!
’ Reckless Lotty pipes in with a whirl of irritation. ‘
I mean, who does that? Who falls before having sex?! How do we know he’s any good? Ugh.
’

‘
Ahem
,’ Rational Lotty clears her throat. ‘
I’m thinking that good and proper head we got earlier is a really strong indication.’

Reckless Lotty goes quiet, and then her eyes hood, moaning as she remembers just how fantastic this afternoon was. ‘
I say we still try having sex with him and forget all this relationship and serious commitment crap.
’

‘
He’ll never go for it
.’ Rational Lotty shoots down the suggestion. ‘
The man’s been unambiguously clear about what he wants. Us.
All
or nothing
.’

But Reckless Lotty is already shaking her head in refutation. ‘
He
tasted
us today. I bet that’s
all
he’s thinking about right now. No way he’ll turn down seconds, no matter how much self-control he thinks he has. And I agree with him, if we can’t be serious, we can’t be anything. Sex, though, isn’t serious. Sex is
fun
. So let’s just put a big green tick on sex, and big red X on everything else. This way everyone walks away satiated.”

Rational Lotty crosses her arms in defiance. ‘
I vote no. It’s too risky. Feelings are already involved
.’

Reckless Lotty rolls her eyes. ‘
You can’t
vote
; it’s just the two us. It’s either your way, or my way—which is so totally better, by the way.
’

There is silence in my head for a moment, until, ever so slowly, they both train their expectant gazes downward. To me. After all their bickering, in the end, the final decision is left to me.

Expelling a sigh, I stare up at the ceiling. Feeling blindly around for my phone, I touch the screen to check the time, a square glow of light illuminating my face. 10:32 PM.

Noah and I haven’t exchanged many words since our disagreement. At the beginning of the third episode of
Graceland
, he excused himself and went up to his room, and I, after sitting there unseeing for another ten minutes, switched off the television, stowed our untouched food in the refrigerator, and retreated to my room, too.

Worst part is, I can’t even bring myself to orgasm anymore! Three times I’ve tried and stopped because some inane thought that I’m cheating and breaking a rule keeps blocking me.

That, too, is contributing to my insomnia, because bedtime orgasms are like essential sleep-aids to me.

Flipping over onto my side, I fluff my pillow, attempting for the umpteenth to fall asleep, when movements at the crease under my bedroom door catches my attention. Like the shadow of two feet. The shadows hesitate, and then they’re gone.

As I start to slide of out bed, the shadows return. Hesitate.

I pause. But I don’t feel fear. Somehow, I
feel
and
know
the
energy effusing on the other side if the door, the unquenched desire, the indecisiveness. I feel the energy down to my bones, down to the tiniest ventricle of my heart.

The shadows move, hesitate again, and again they’re gone.

Jerking out of bed, I trek swiftly across the room and swing open the door.

Noah is retreating down the hall, fingers raking back through his hair, and it sounds as if he’s mumbling to himself. He abruptly spins, as if belatedly registering the sound of the door opening. His weary gaze sweeps over me, lingers on my mouth. He then blinks heavenward and scrubs both hands down his face.

Self-consciously fiddling with the hem of my silk pajama shorts, I say, “Hey.”

He laces his fingers behind his neck, eying me strangely. “Hey.”

To ease the tension, I assume a relaxed, unperturbed posture, even though I’m anything but, and lean against the wall by my door, giving him a raised eyebrow. “Doing a late night hall patrol, Mr. Van Der Wells?”

His hands fall to his side as he regards me, narrows his gaze, and then he crosses his arms over his buff chest, rising to the challenge. “Your curfew is at ten. It’s half-past. Do you have a hall pass to be out at this hour?”

I raise a hand to my mouth and make an ‘uh-oh’ expression. “N-No…I-I don’t. Am I in trouble, Mr. Van Der Wells?” Pushing from the wall, I take two steps to him and stop. “Please don’t report me.
Please
. I’ll do anything you want.”

Teeth raking over his bottom lip, he cocks his head, regards me further. “Anything?”

Slipping my hand under the hem of my silk sleep-tank, I trail my fingers just above the waistband of my shorts. “Yes, Mr. Van Der Wells.
Anything
.”

At this, his hands fall to his side, and I watch with bated breath as his long strides eat up the distance between us. One firm, but gentle hand replacing mine under my tank, flat and confident on my pelvis, he drives me back to the wall.

My breath catches, a delicious ache rousing.

Head dipping, he licks and then nips my earlobe as he whispers, “I can still taste you.”

A whimper is all I get out as his hand drifts up my stomach, palming one of my breasts, my nipple sighing at his touch.

“I want more, Lotty.” His lips travel from my ear down to my neck, gifting me tiny, delicate bites between kisses. “I can’t sleep. Can’t concentrate. I’m going crazy.”

“You want…” I trail off, dragging in a hitching breath as his thumb flicks my nipple. “You want to try this my way then?” As his kisses pause, I quickly add, “Not what I proposed today. I mean my initial, unattached way. Just…sex. We’ll get out before anyone falls in too deep.”

Except I’m already in deep
.

Noah says nothing, kisses and caresses on pause. My heart thrashes around in impatience. I swear to God, if he pulls another bullshit move tonight, I’m going to tackle him, tie him up, and rape him. I can’t stand this ache anymore.

And then his other hand moves—
yes!
—under my tank, settling at my waist. He grips, squeezes, and then braces himself against me so his erection is digging into me.

“Is that a yes?”

Still no answer. He just groans as he grinds against me.

I’m going to implode. I’m going to explode. I’m go to—

In one abrupt move, I’m swept up in his arms Prince Charming style and his mouth is on mine. Striding through my bedroom door, he pauses only to kick the bedroom door shut. 

‘
I guess that’s a yes
,’ Rational Lotty mumbles in defeat.

Reckless Lotty makes a fist pump as she brags, ‘
Winning
!’

T
WENTY-
O
NE

N
OAH LAYS ME
down on the bed, my legs hanging off the side. Nudging them apart, he moves in between, hovering, gazing down at me with hot, lidded eyes.

As his hands smooth up my thighs, I reach down for the hem of my top, arching my back to pull it off, baring my breasts.

Noah growls something feral, covering me with his body, hands, and mouth aiming unerringly for my girls. He sucks, he licks, he kneads, his erection grinding against me.

My legs lock around him as I breathe whispers of pleasure in his ear, needing him
inside
me. Buried deep.

Nipping his earlobe, I tell him. I tell him what I want, crave, am aching for. “Let me feel you, Noah.”

His fingers flick and tweak my nipples as he kisses down my belly, and even further down. I thrust my hips up, urging him to take my shorts off. He does, thumbs hooking into the waistband of both underwear and shorts, pulling them down my legs, getting rid of them. His head dips, and he runs his nose down my sopping seam, and
oh wow,
it feels good. 

“God, you smell good,” he prays into my slick heat. And then he kisses it, again and again. Not lick, or suck, or flick. Just closed mouth kiss, and it evokes something I never experienced before, my legs drawing up to the bed and then wider apart. It’s teasing, so simple, yet so evocative. No tongue and I’m a whimpering, squirming mess.

When he finally gives me tongue, licking through my folds, my hips buck.

“Ohgod!” My own hands grasp my breasts, squeezing, toying with my nipples in an attempt to mimic whatever fantastic trick he was doing before. “Noah, please, let me feel you. Inside me. Please.”

Still, he doesn’t acknowledge me. He takes his precious time licking me gently, petting me, seducing me, driving me slowly to the brink.

In a pleasured haze, my body wired with pre-orgasm spikes, I brace up on my elbows to watch him, to
see
him.

His eyes are closed, his tongue working me over, and I notice his right hand moving. I brace up further to get better look, realizing that his pants are just below his hips and his dick is in his fist, smoothly working up and down a length that I’m surprised to admit impresses me. Long and thick with a blunt red head, pre-cum dripping out of the little slit. Just watching him fist himself pushes me one mile closer to the edge.