“Who says you’re not heroic?” Noah said quietly, but a hint of his smile had come back. Possibly because I was still discussing this and not telling him he was out of his mind to think he had a chance.
Should I tell him that? It was hard to convince myself to stonewall him when I had the full brilliance of those gorgeous eyes fixed on me. So I focused on convincing him instead.
“Anyone who knows the definition of the word? I—I practically let Rory get convicted of a murder I knew she hadn’t committed and only spoke up for her after she promised me whatever I wanted in return. And what I wanted ended up being an excuse not to have to stand up to my parents and tell them what I actually thought about their plans. And even then I was more concerned about how uncomfortable I’d be pushing the Naries around than how the Naries would feel about it. I fought for the scions more because I was scared of what I’d have to do if you all kicked me back to my family than because of grand principles or whatever.”
“And you’re still here.” Noah eased close enough on the sofa to slip his hand around mine, warm and solid. A tingle shot up my arm. He held my gaze, and I couldn’t look away. “You know what? I think you’re more of a ‘hero’ than someone like Rory.”
When I scoffed, he squeezed my hand tighter. “Rory never had any doubts about what she should do, because she’d been taught her whole life that caring about and protecting people who can’t defend themselves is right. You had to go against the family who raised you, the attitudes they raised you with, all the beliefs you’d had hammered into you since you were a kid… And you did. Even when it was hard. Even when your life was on the line. Hell, right now you’re considering marching off into danger all over again for the rest of us when you could have said no the moment we asked.”
“Because I don’t want to prove everyone who thinks I’m just a selfish bitch right,” I muttered.
“Because you’re not a selfish bitch.” Noah was definitely smiling now. “What made me want to spend more time with you was knowing how brave you must be to come through all that, to keep going through the crap your parents throw at you. And that time hasn’t changed my opinion. I think you’re one of the bravest people I know. And if bravery doesn’t make you a hero, well, who says I have to pick based on that criteria anyway?”
It was impossible not to believe he meant those words when he said them so emphatically. There’d been a whole lot of reasons I hadn’t let myself humor my past twinges of attraction, but gaping at him now, I couldn’t remember a single one of them. All I knew was I’d been scrambling for answers, and suddenly he felt like all the answer I could possibly need, even if I wasn’t totally sure to what question.
A wrenching sense of longing swelled through my chest, leaving me even dizzier. Without letting myself analyze the impulse, I leaned closer and brushed my lips to his.
It was a tentative kiss, but the moment my mouth met Noah’s, he banished any lingering doubts I’d had about my welcome. He dropped my hand to sweep his fingers over my braided hair, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Heat flooded me from where we touched all through the rest of my body.
I grasped his shoulder, kissing him harder, with a pang inside as if I’d been starving for him all this time. He tasted so good, the sweetness of the éclairs mingling with the sharpness of the vodka and a warm flavor that was all his own laced underneath. He felt so good, his fingertips grazing my scalp through my hair, his other hand skimming down my side, his tongue teasing over the seam of my lips to part them. All tender heat and brightness—and he wanted me.
He admired me. The shine of his regard seemed to flow from him into me alongside the heat. It lit me up all around my heart and washed every other consideration from my alcohol-hazed mind. I let that first kiss melt into another and another, immersing myself in that sensation as if I could never get enough.
Noah’s hand eased up to the side of my breast, caressing its curve through my shirt, and my pulse stuttered. I tensed, just for a second—and that was all it took for him to go still and draw back enough to catch my gaze. Checking to make sure I was all right, that I wanted this.
Maybe I wouldn’t have otherwise. Maybe if he’d simply kept going, the tension would have wound into a knot in my gut, and I’d have ended up pushing him away and sending him off like I had the few other guys I’d kissed since I’d enrolled at Blood U.
But he didn’t ignore my reaction because he was Noah, and he was so goddamned good, exactly what I hadn’t known I needed.
“Don’t stop,” I said, my voice rough, and pulled him back to me.
This act could be mine as much as his. It could be my decision. My pleasure. There was something so wondrous about that thought and the sensations rushing through me alongside it that it took my breath away. I tugged his shirt free from his slacks and slid my hand up over the taut muscles of his chest with an urgency I couldn’t explain.
If someone like him could want me like this, if I could embrace that desire, then let this moment write over everything from before and wash it all away. Let this be who I was.
As my hand slipped around to clasp his lean back, his skin scorching under my palm, Noah gave a soft groan against my mouth. He stroked his thumb over the peak of my breast with enough pressure to send a bolt of pleasure through my chest and down to my core. We were tipping—falling—I had a sudden image of us rocking together in the middle of the common room.
No, that wasn’t how this should be. Just enough clarity broke through the haze in my head for me to nudge him upward instead. “My bedroom,” I mumbled between kisses. “We can go—”
I tugged him with me, and he followed, his eyes blazing, his face flushed but with lust rather than embarrassment now. Just over the threshold of the bedroom, I elbowed the door closed and yanked him to me again.
He kissed me with enough passion to make my knees wobble. I wrenched off my shirt, and then we were toppling onto the bed, Noah braced over me.
He paused, tracing my skin just above the cup of my bra and gazing into my eyes. “Are you sure?”
No more questions. No more thinking. I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight enough through the flood of dizziness and giddy desire anyway. I ran my fingers along his jaw and into his hair, more of the silky strands falling free from his ponytail, and simply said, “Please.”
He beamed and kissed me again, and the glow inside me lit up twice as bright. Somewhere in the midst of the heat and the gasps and the crashing of our mouths, my bra vanished, and then his shirt. I yanked at his belt, and he chucked off that and his slacks together.
His erection already tented his boxers. I reached for it, cupping him in a way that must have seemed oddly tentative after I’d hauled him in here so determinedly, but Noah didn’t complain. His breath hitched, spilling hot over my shoulder when he lowered his head to kiss me there. His lips moved along my collarbone, charting a path to my breasts. I stroked his cock through the fabric, reveling at the way it twitched and seemed to stiffen even more at my invitation.
I’d decided this. I was making it happen.
I squirmed out of my jeans and panties, losing my sense of purpose partway through when Noah sucked my nipple into his hot mouth, finally kicking them off my feet. As I dipped my hand between my legs, he raised his head to watch. For the first time ever, I murmured the casting that would serve as magical protection.