Never Ever

20| Got me in a chokehold

There's no resisting now, no second guessing. His mouth claims mine, hungrily coaxing my lips apart until I'm forced to surrender, submitting to his mercy. And the worst thing about it, the part that makes no sense, is I want to.

I kiss him back, conceding to the warmth of his mouth. I should push him away, scream at him to stop or start running for the hills, but I don't. I'm not in control here, not even close. It's like I'm swimming against a current; all I can do is keep my head above water and try not to drown.

His kisses harden, laced with a gentle air of impatience, but the throbbing in his jaw suggests he's still holding back. If Noah had his way, he'd be ripping off my swimsuit and breaking the curse right here in the hot tub, but part of him still fights to be good.

For me.

The thought should scare me. Maybe it does, but deep down, it also excites me. While the risk of getting burned by him is greater than ever, this is the first time all year that I don't feel like I'm sleepwalking. For once, I'm completely awake.

Noah drags his mouth along my jaw in a move that makes my thighs tremor. His eyes flash, and he pulls me against him, securing a hand around the back of my head before gripping a fistful of hair.

I feel myself shiver, though whether it's down to the cold or Noah's mouth, I'm not sure. He lets out a breath, staring down into my face, then slides his hands around my legs and lifts me, carrying me to the hot tub.

As if I've lost all control, my nails graze his back as he props me on the ledge. The water is warm, enveloping my thighs in a sea of hot bubbles that makes it hard to determine the cause of my flush: the hot tub or Noah.

Inch by inch, Noah drops his gaze, watching the water trickle between my legs and pool between my thighs. I squeeze his shoulders, forcing his attention back up to my face, where it lingers for what might as well be forever.

Then he's kissing me again, nibbling and sucking on my lip. Breathing ragged, I close my eyes as if I'm stuck in a dream, not entirely convinced this is real. He feels real enough: smooth, solid, and warm to the touch, but the haze in the air suggests otherwise.

"Look at me, Blue."

His demand comes low and hard in my ear. I open my eyes as his hands pull me closer, possessively claiming my hips. Surprised by his fierceness, I let out a shudder, the feel of hot water on top of his grip heating me all the way through.

Noah leans forward, grazing his mouth along the side of my neck and down the curve of my collarbone. It reaches my strap, which he nudges aside with the tip of his nose, sliding the fabric down my shoulder.

I hear my breath stutter as I tug on his waist, pulling him closer. I shouldn't want this. I don't want this. Who'd knowingly sign up to be another Noah conquest? Not me, and yet something about this moment has me locked in a chokehold, because I can't for the life of me back out. 

I kiss him again, and it feels like diving into the deep end: scary and dark, the risk of drowning more likely than ever, but beyond the fear, there's a glimmer of hope that I'll emerge unscathed.

I'll be one of the lucky ones.

Our mouths collide as his hands travel from my waist to my legs. He reaches between my thighs, pinching the tattered material barely keeping me covered, his every muscle taut with desire. "You're a good girl, Blue," he mutters against my neck. "You know that?"

I feel my throat burn as he leans in again, and this time his other hand slips under my swimsuit, exploring the curves of my back. Bubbles thrash around us, hot and wet, as they lash at my thighs, which have filled with an influx of heat.

We're moving too fast, hurtling hundreds of miles per hour, and headed nowhere good. But I can't seem to stop myself. That self-restraint I'd somehow perfected? Gone. Self-preservation? Unheard of. Right now, I'm as stupid and foolish as the rest of them.

My hands grab his hair as he kisses my neck. He's restraining himself, trying his hardest to be gentle with me, but everything about him screams more. He's used to getting his way, I realize, to doing whatever he wants, when he wants, and now he's having to wait; it's driving him insane.

I rest my hand on his chest, and he looks down at me, his heart pattering in excitement. I like that I can do this to him, that his body responds immediately to my touch. I like that I make him excited. So did the others, my voice of reason whispers. So did Natalia. And then he grew bored.

The words force their way to the forefront. I pull away from him, determined to slow things down, but the closer we get, the harder it is for me to think straight. When he scowls and pulls me closer again, I'm helpless, tilting back my head as he hooks a finger under my strap, giving it a gentle tug. With both straps now down, my swimsuit drops just enough to expose my décolletage to the brisk, cool air.

His eyes darken, and the restraint he's been clinging to hangs by a thread. He wets his lips, pulling on the fabric like pulling on the strings of a gift. I start to unravel, my upper breasts the first to be exposed to his gaze, peeking beyond my neckline.

With typical Noah confidence, he teases me with his fingers, stroking and touching all the places I'd kept hidden, taking it all for himself. I arch my back, losing myself to the feel of his hands as they slide across my skin, as soft and smooth as silk. Even through the haze of desire, I know this is wrong. I'm playing with fire – I have been since the moment I arrived – and any second now, I'm going to get burnt.

So why can't I stop?

He's staring at me, gaze smoked with heat as he retakes my hand and guides it down his torso, over his now-hardened trunks. I bite my lip, knowing this is bad but somehow being powerless to stop it. Instead, I lean closer, allowing his hand to close around mine as it guides me back and forth across his front.

Red. That's the color of my cheeks right now, and not because I feel the way he throbs beneath my hand, but because the look Noah's giving me is filthy.

"Blue." His breath comes out strangled and warm against my face. My only response is a quick exhale of breath as his hand dips further south, running along my flimsy swimsuit and settling between my thighs. His thumb finds my clit through the material with ease, pressing just enough to make me jolt.

I gasp and feel my hands shoot out, forcing him back. He grins like he'd expected as much, returning his hands to the safety of my waist. "You're a tease, Blue," he murmurs, kissing my neck, then takes the delicate skin between his mouth, nibbling me softly. "I want more."

My pulse quickens, hammering hard under the wetness of his mouth. Of course he wants more – that was always a given – but what I hadn't counted on? How much I'd be willing to give him.

Half-panicked, I fight to regain my senses. To remember why I'd considered this wrong in the first place. Part of me wants to believe that I'm different, that maybe our shared interests would keep him around, but the other part knows that's wishful thinking. If the accident taught me anything, it's that anyone can leave, even the people you thought wouldn't; it's why I don't trust Noah for a second.

I can't.

Sensing I'm about to pull back, Noah beats me to it. I pull up my swimsuit, watching the way he exhales slowly, lingering for a moment on my mouth before finally lifting his head to meet my eyes. "You know what I think?" He doesn't wait for my answer – he knows I won't give one. Instead, he tilts his head, his eyes accusing as takes a step closer. "I think you like driving me insane, Blue."

Just like that, Noah Atterwood sees through me. I turn away, making it clear this – whatever it is – will never happen again. For my own preservation, it can't. I'd assumed the only dangerous thing on this rooftop was the deep end, but I was wrong. Being touched by Noah – kissed by him – is the most dangerous thing of all.

A/N

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