Siren

Chapter Twenty-Eight

HIS LIPS TOUCH MINE. Sweet and gentle.  His tongue massaging mine as his hands wrap tightly around my waist, pulling my body against his.  I melt into him, our bodies molding to one another as we loose our breath.  A range of emotion rushes through me before I can loose my sense to his touch. 

I shouldn't be allowing myself to submit to him so easily.  Things between us cannot end well and with every touch, I find myself falling into the own lie I have spun.  He doesn't know the real Noah, the girl that works her ass off and would rather be surrounded by a pile of books than a crowd of people. No, he doesn't know the Noah that spent more time in the library than at parties with her classmates. He doesn't know the girl that slept through multiple classes because she was up late bartending in order to pay her way through her courses.  Or the girl that shops at department stores and thrift shops just to try and keep up with the latest trends.  He doesn't know the Noah that has only been intimate with three men in her life, all one night stands. 

No, Harry Styles knows a fictional version of Noah Walker.  He knows the girl every woman wishes she could be.  The Noah he knows is fearless, confident.  She radiates sex and commands the attention of every room she is in.  She wears the latest trends and attends the biggest parties in London. She lives in a penthouse apartment over looking the Thames and, most importantly, never second guesses herself.  The girl he knows is out of even his league. 

"Stop thinking, Noah." Harry seems to respond to my unspoken doubts, digging his fingers into the skin over my hips as he pulls me against him.  I wrap my legs around his waist and hold on for dear life as he lifts me off of the counter. 

He's right, of course.  I need to stop over thinking things with him.  Harry will never know the real Noah and maybe that's for the best.  Not only for him, but for me.  I love the version of myself that I have become in the last two weeks.  I have Tammy to thank for that and, in a lot of ways, Harry.  He's brought out my confident side and I can't say that I don't love it. 

He carries me to the couch where he lays me down gently.  His hand around my back moves the the carefully tied knot at the back of my neck.  In seconds he has the knot figured out and the white top loosely falls around my chest. Without loosing contact, he pulls the sheer material over me head and sucks in a breath. 

"Dirty girl," he smirks as he takes in my braless frame. He leans down and presses a kiss to my collar bone.  And then the other one.  I watch in awe as his tongue trails down and swirls around the pink tissue of my nipple.  I suck in a sharp breath as his lips close around me and I squirm beneath him.  

"Harry," I'm whining his name.  Still unsure I want to go down this road with him, again.  

Well, I want to...I want to so bad.  But my moral compass, or whatever they call it, is spinning wildly. 

You aren't really dating!  A voice inside my head is screaming. 

You've already fucked once, stop being a prude! Yet another voice counters.  I have the angel and devil on my shoulders and, right now, the devil is seriously winning. 

He sits up suddenly, leaving me topless and breathless beneath his weight. 

"Be right back," he says with a glimmer behind those forest green eyes. "Stay," he commands before  awkwardly climbing off of me and walks back towards the kitchen. I hear glasses clink together and I sit up, trying to get a glimpse at whatever he is doing but with no luck.  The breakfast bar blocks my vision completely and I lay back down with a huff.  This is so like him to leave me waiting and wanting. 

He returns a second later with a glass filled with ice water.

"Thirsty?" I question without hiding the annoyance in my tone.  Harry chuckles and takes a long sip.