Chapter 9

Raven shot up so fast his head spun. "What?"

Noah was a little shocked himself by the proposal. He'd never had a woman in his apartment, never mind asking one to move in, albeit temporarily. But after what they'd just done together, and everything they'd left on the table, no way was he letting her go until he got all of her.

She made a move to climb off of him.

He grabbed her hips to still her. "Stop. Hear me out."

She tensed, but ceased her escape.

"We live twenty minutes apart. Between your work schedule and mine, travel would waste time. One month, Raven." It would build trust on her end if she stayed. Falling asleep with her, waking up, it would push his typical boundaries, but she'd relax with him, put them in more intimate capacity. It would speed progress.

She shook her head. "That goes beyond the agreement. You don't share well with others. We'd kill each other."

Something else was going on in that pretty head of hers. "Right back at you. But what aren't you telling me?" She hedged. He pressed. "Honesty, Raven. I need you to talk to me or we're not going to get anywhere."

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. "I've never slept with a man before."

It was damn frightening how alike they were. "Me either. Man or woman," he teased. She didn't see the humor. "We'll figure it out. Worse case scenario, I take the guest room."

He wondered if she realized he was touching her now. With a firm grip on her hips, his thumbs stroked her skin while she argued with herself. She had no problem with him touching her in the living room, so he tried to gauge her triggers as they went along.

She drew in a breath, and his gaze dropped to her nipples with the movement. She had perfect breasts. Small, perky, and they'd fit in his hands. If she let him touch. Rose-pink in color, they begged to be sucked. Bit.

This wasn't helping. He was growing hard again. Already. They needed a shower, but he wanted her again desperately. An idea bloomed.

"Stay tonight. We can test things out over the weekend."

Her gaze met his, more mocha than cocoa in the dim light of his room. Slowly, she nodded.

Fighting a grin, he failed. "Come on. I have an-exercise for us."

Her brows lifted. "I draw the line at exercise."

There she was. There was his Raven.

"You'll like this one." Gently urging her off the bed, he took her hand and led her into his adjoining master bath. He started the water in the tub and turned to her.

She was really something, standing there naked in full glory and not an ounce of embarrassment or insecurity. He hated it when women hid their beauty. She was taking in the room with curious eyes and, for the first time, he wondered about the design. It wasn't as if anyone ever got to see the room.

The bathtub was big enough to seat six, complete with jets, but he typically used the shower just on the other side of the counter. The heated stone benches and three-dimensional sprays were worth the small fortune. Not that money was an issue. There was a his and hers vanity in slate, even though he never had a "her." The floors and walls a sage tile.

"Do you like it?"

She looked at him, pink tingeing her cheeks. "Yes. It's like a spa. I love the colors."

Seeing the tub was nearly full, he gestured for her to get in.

"You want me to take a bath?"

"Us. I want us to bathe together." He waited for her argument, but she didn't offer one.

Stepping in, she went to the farthest corner and moaned as she sank under the hot water, neck deep. He turned the dimmer lights on over the tub and clicked off the harsh vanity lighting. Fully aroused, he climbed in and took the spot opposite her. She watched his movements, gaze dipping to his shaft and exploring his body.

"You're comfortable with this?"

She shrugged. "Oddly, yes. In most aspects of intimacy, I'm fine, until it gets down to the actual deed. I've never been big on touch, though. That's what initiates panic."

He nodded, wondering how she got to hate touch so much. He loved using his hands, so the restraint was immeasurably difficult. His hand dragged over his shaft, wanting inside her again. She watched the movement, teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

"It drives me insane when you do that."

She tilted her head, the tips of her black hair floating on the water. "Do what?"

"Bite your lip. I want to follow the same path and lick the ache away." He studied her. "You do it a lot, but never so much as you have the past week."

She offered a slight shake of her head. "What is this exercise you wanted us to do?"

His shaft thickened just imagining. "Touch yourself. Make yourself come for me. I want to see how you like to be touched and where, want to know what makes you mindless."

Her red lips parted and a ragged breath escaped. The blush from the water's heat added to the arousal in her cheeks. Her nipples pebbled. She wasn't unaffected, wanted to do what he asked. "Why?" she breathed.

"Call it a trust exercise." And one day soon, she was going to let him do the same with his fingers that she'd do with hers. "Dip your fingers under the water, Raven. Show me what pleases you."

After a moment, she swallowed and moved her hands to her breasts, cupping them. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as she arched into them. So fucking beautiful. He wanted his camera.

"Open your eyes. Watch me as you pleasure yourself."

Moaning, her lashes fell to half mast and her gaze locked on his, dark with arousal. One hand slid lower, over her taught belly to the small patch of dark hair. She shaved or waxed he'd noticed earlier, leaving only a small triangle.

"Spread your legs. Let me watch."

Responding to his low voice on command, her knees fell open, exposing her to him through the clear water. Her fingers spread her folds, her thumb flicking her swollen clit. Even through the water he could see she was slick, wanting. She moaned, her head drifting back.

"No. Eyes on me." He fisted his shaft, stroking harder, faster. "Does that feel good, baby?"

"Yes."

"How good?"

She moaned. "So good."

His balls tightened. "Imagine they're my fingers touching you. Dip a finger inside, baby. Are you hot and tight?"

"Yes. And wet. So wet for you."

Fuck. He could come right now and still be hard. "Pinch your nipple with your other hand. Yes," he hissed. Two strokes and he'd be done. He wanted them to come together. "Massage your clit. I want you to come for me."

Her breathing grew shallow, breasts rising and falling in the water, sending ripples across the space toward him. Her eyes went black with lust, lost in her pleasure, and it took more restraint than he had to wait her out. Faster, her fingers worked. Over her clit, in and out of her channel.

"Come, baby."

She cried out, throwing her head back and tensing, jerking against her fingers. Her lips parted, and he came unglued. He groaned, seed hitting his chest in spurts, his body taut with spasm. He stroked twice more through the aftershocks and watched her go limp.

"Fuck, Raven. That was-amazing."

With her eyes still closed, one corner of her mouth quirked. "Not so bad yourself, Noah. Watching you stroke yourself is fantasy material."

Death of him. No doubt, she'd be the death of him.

"Scoot a little closer."

She opened her eyes in question, but shoved off the tub and complied.

When their knees brushed, he tentatively put his hands on her waist. She didn't shy away, so he slid them down her hips and to her thighs, parting them to wrap her legs around his waist. He grabbed a small pitcher from the ledge and dumped the potpourri his maid refreshed weekly onto the floor.

"Tilt your head back." With a raised brow, she did, and he filled the pitcher with water, pouring it over her hair. So many fantasies involved her hair. Adding shampoo, he lathered the soft strands and massaged her scalp when she didn't show signs of duress.

"That feels good."

"Yeah? Never done this before."

She moaned deep in her throat. "You have great hands."

He paused for just a moment. "You have no idea." Refilling the pitcher, he rinsed the suds out.

She blinked at him through wet lashes, dark as midnight. The honey flecks were back in her irises, a sultry mix with the warm chocolate. Reaching for a bar of soap, she held it up in question.

His jaw clenched, but he nodded.

Running her hands over his neck, she worked the bar into a lather. She stroked his shoulders, down his chest. Her gaze followed the movement, appreciation in her eyes.

"What sets off the panic?"

She avoided his gaze, rinsing her hands. "I don't know." She used the pitcher to rinse the suds from him and then poured water over his head. Silent, she washed his hair. She had pretty damn amazing hands, too. The tips of her fingers massaged his scalp, the nails lightly raking.

Once she'd rinsed his hair, he laid his hands on her forearms. "You let me touch you in the living room. You're letting me do it now."

Drawing in a deep breath, she looked at his chest. "Some contact from Nicole or my mother doesn't bother me. Hugging or pats on the arm. It's more of an aversion than a dislike. Before your proposal, you and I didn't touch often. Maybe because we've known each other so long it failed to make me uncomfortable." She shrugged. "I liked it. Until-"

"Until I laid on top of you."

She met his gaze. "Yeah."

Without taking his eyes from hers, he reached for the soap and lathered his hands. He held them up before going forward. "Just tell me if it's too much."

She nodded and worked a swallow.

Starting with her shoulders, he slid his hands down her arms, careful to avoid any intimate area. Her lips parted on a sigh. Encouraged, he traced her throat and collarbone, moving south and keenly watching for panic. To his surprise, her eyes went hazy with lust, her breathing shallow. How could she be so receptive one moment and freak out the next? It was driving him insane, not just the need to have her, but the need to release her from the fear. He traced around her nipples. She arched into him.

"Like that?"

Nodding, she closed her eyes.

Cupping her breasts in his palms, he closed his eyes. She was nothing like he'd imagined. She was softer, responsive, and there was no way he could've possibly gauged just how much she'd affect him. Part of it was their deep friendship, the way he cared about her, but having her like this-There was nothing comparable. His own heart started to pound.

He opened his eyes to find her staring at him. Something flickered in her gaze, part alarm, part-hope. Sucking in a breath, he shook his head.

He rinsed his hands and then her body. "Time to get out."

She stared at him another beat and then nodded. He let her towel off before climbing out and drying himself. Having her go to bed aroused could only help break the ice, so leaving them both unsatisfied after round two in the bath seemed like a good plan. She'd ache and want and perhaps make her own move toward more.

Making their way into the bedroom, he picked up the remote to turn on the fireplace and close the drapes.

When they'd swished shut, she touched her throat. "Can we leave them open?"

That's right. She had a thing for enclosed rooms. Without a word, he pushed the button to reopen them and shut off the light. He tugged the sheets down and held them up for her. She climbed in, taking one side of the bed and laying stiffly on her back. Swear to God, he was getting a picture of her in his bed before the month was through. The contrast of her dark hair against white sheets, her red lips and pink nipples-

He wondered if his dick would ever go back to normal.

Sliding between the sheets, he lay on his side, facing her. Firelight flickered over her profile, her wide eyes as she stared at the ceiling. If it was the last thing he did, if it took every hour of their thirty days together, he was going to wipe the hesitancy from her features. A sexual creature by nature, she was fantasy wrapped in daydream. Time she opened herself to all she was capable of being.

Unsure of proper bed-sharing etiquette, he sighed. He wasn't the cuddle type. Smothering in any form stole his breath. But this was different. This was-"Raven."

She turned her head.

"Come over here."

When she hesitated, he rolled to his back in the hopes that the position was non-threatening. After a moment, she scooted closer and rested her cheek in the crook of his arm. There was an awkward shuffle of arms and legs before they finally settled with her hand on his chest and leg covering his thigh, with his hand low on her back.

Silence stretched while he took stock of the situation. Her soft, warm body fit against the hard edges of his, as if made to be there. The scent of him clung to her, instead of her usual rain, and he found himself oddly liking it. His chest didn't restrict and he didn't want to back away for a semblance of space.

"This isn't so bad."

She laughed, pressing her face into his arm. "Goodnight."