Cherry Blossom Girl Ch. 02

"And you have, right?"

"Yes," she said, her voice flat.

"Is that why you were crying that night?" Her smug expression disappeared. For a second he almost felt like an ass, but the need to know something meaningful about her overruled.

"No, that was me feeling like crap because it's hard to stop caring for someone after six years. I guess love doesn't go away just because the 'in love' part didn't work out. And I think that's much better than walking around with a lot of hate and bitterness." She paused and searched his face for judgement. "You think that's naïve too, right?"

"No, not at all." He'd been thinking about something entirely different. Six years. If he tallied his longest relationships together, he'd still fall short of that milestone.

She took another sip of water and stared into the glass, effectively letting him know the subject was closed. "I sort of turned Dirty Harry on your girlfriend." A secret smile played across her mouth as she looked up at Hailey's picture. "She had it coming though." Her impish delivery made him laugh and he decided right then that Sascha Davis was alright.

"She's not my girlfriend and yes, she did feel bad about it after." When he corrected her assumption, her reaction—the little one she tried to bury beneath deliberate nonchalance—didn't go unnoticed. There were possibilities here.

The sound of Noah's laughter, the way his face lit up reminded Sascha how much she enjoyed being the source of a man's delight.

Familiar, sweet guitar notes and a smoky voice surrounded the moment. The mood had the potential to turn sensuous and romantic, but this particular songstress had been banned from Sascha's airspace because of her ability to break a heart in one song. Tonight the toxic hymn provided an opportunity to poke fun.

"I never would've pegged you for a Sade fan," she said while she served him her best "gotcha" expression. How great it felt to be on the other side of it. "Or is she part of your marketing strategy?" she teased as her fingers drew quotes in the air.

His entire music selection had a sexy, let's-enjoy-the-evening feel, now that she thought of it. She made sure to hold her smirk a few extra seconds when no answer came. "I'll take that as a yes."

Noah ducked his head and averted his eyes.

Until that moment she thought rugged and sexy had summed up Noah Jameson's emotional range. But boyish and cute? That did it. She set her glass on the table.

"I don't think Liya's going to call me back soon. I better just get a room at the hotel."

"How are you going to get there?"

"Someone at the front desk can send over the shuttle van."

She stood and smoothed her jacket, hoping to soothe away this unsettled feeling. The CD player clicked over and Coldplay replaced the moment of silence. Sascha shoved her feet into her shoes—fast. The song, an old favorite, reclaimed its romantic meaning for the first time in months.

"Thanks for helping me out, I'm really sorry I kept you up this late."

Noah stood. "Is that why you're leaving?"

"Yeah?" she drawled and realized too late how defensive her sarcasm sounded. "You've been great but I don't want to impose."

His slow smile mocked her. "Then you better stop doing that or I'll think it's the real reason you're in such a hurry to leave."

"Doing what?"

"Staring at my mouth. You've been doing it the whole time you've been here."

"No, I haven't!" The enthusiastic lie added more heat to her embarrassment.

His derisive snort was the height of conceit as he pointed at her. "Is that your nose growing?"

"Whatever." You really told him, girl.

"Is that the best you can do?"

"I don't have to do anything—it's not my business if you're on some crazy ego trip."

She grabbed her phone off the table and found him staring down at her with the expression she resented. Gotcha, gotcha, gotcha.

Their eyes clashed. It was all the time she needed to put distance between them. But the back of her heel stubbed the table leg, causing her to stumble into the very arms she tried to escape. His hand reached the back of her head before she had a chance to blink.

"If that's the case, you'll stop me."

He wouldn't really do it, would he? The voice in her head recycled the question even as his wolfish smile aimed for her mouth. His breath caressed her nose when he whispered, "Didn't think so."

She watched him angle his head. The tip of his nose grazed hers. His beard brushed her skin. He came closer one breath at a time. She didn't know which was more intoxicating: his slow advance or the moment his mouth parted on her upper lip. It had to be curiosity, not desire, that kept her rooted in place, that made her close her eyes to savor his soft lips moving over hers. The newness, the difference overwhelmed every molecule within her being while his restraint snuck past her defenses. Just one kiss.

Noah reigned himself in and kept the kiss light, giving Sascha time to retreat or respond. When she did neither, he backed off and forced himself to embrace the disappointment. He no longer had to wonder about the vibe he'd felt between them since that first day when he met her in the elevator carrying boxes. She was just another pretty face in a city full of pretty faces. It was just as well that she had to stay off limits.

He was Scott free until her fingers touched the side of his face.

Her lips swept over his, each pass a gentle demand: Let me in. His answer was inevitable. He'd regret it if he passed this up. Adrenaline surged through him. Now he'd find out just what she was like. Finally. The last thing he expected came at the first touch of her tongue inside his mouth. Temptation. Need. Noah surrendered to it. Sascha delivered.

She set the pace, teasing him, dragging the tip of her tongue along his lower lip before another thrust inside. Fast. Slow. Advancing. Retreating. Each change in rhythm better than the one before. He followed her lead, eager for another taste of her...then another and another. They stumbled back onto the couch with Sascha straddling him, her arms around his neck.

"You're...a really good kisser," she whispered after they came up for air. Any bit of sense he had left went out the window when she licked her mouth. If she did it again, he'd embarrass himself.

"You're not so bad yourself."

He angled his head and nipped her lower lip. His mouth shaped hers and he sought out the secrets inside. Whatever she'd been drinking had enhanced her flavor. No woman could taste this erotic on her own. The cell phone she held in her hand pattered onto the couch. She rocked against him, making him moan at how well they fit together. His hands roamed over her back, learning her slight curves. He had to touch her, had to know more so he reached for the zipper on her jacket and pulled. The kiss ended when he slid the tab between her breasts, revealing the dainty bow on her bra.

The white of her jacket was the perfect contrast to her skin. It wasn't a warm honey, nor brown nor creamy yet it was all of those things. He ran the backs of his fingers from her neck to the valley between her breasts. She swallowed as she looked down to where his hand lay. The contrast between his skin and hers fascinated him as much as her softness.

"Hi."

"Hi." Her pretty mouth formed a shy smile. "You're staring."

He ogled her breasts so there'd be no doubt. "We'll call it even. Come here."

She squirmed while he nuzzled her neck and pressed kisses there. He caught a hint of vanilla, warm oriental notes and something sweet he couldn't name. Her scent was an invisible line reeling him in.

"Your beard tickles," she said through laughter as she offered him her neck. Her happy sounds made him want to discover all the ways to please her.

"It's not my fault..." More kisses. "...you smell so good."

"It's cherry blossom," she told him while she caressed the back of his head.

Pin pricks of sensation zig-zagged down his spine. Noah shivered when she did it again; must've been the crew cut that rendered his scalp more sensitive. He leaned back into her touch but there were so many places in front of him he wanted to kiss and taste. Sascha cupped his face and took his sexy dilemma out of his hands. She caught his lower lip between her teeth then soothed it with the slow sweep of her tongue. He let out a low sound of approval and tilted his head for more.

Her mouth, sweet as it was, wasn't enough. His fingers curled around her hair and tugged. He explored the line of her jaw and made his way to her ear. Her soft gasps made him smile inside. He drew down the zip until it stopped at her belt. Screw all the reasons he shouldn't be doing this. He just had to.

She ducked her head and pulled the jacket panels together after they fell open. He caught her hands in his. "I want to see you."

He didn't wait for an answer, just went to work on her belt and opened her jacket. He dropped his hands to her waist and drank her in. Sascha was soft, delicately made with just enough curves and hips to keep her from having a boyish figure. He let the tips of his fingers wander along the side of her left breast. Small, but not too small. Unable to resist, he cupped her bra and felt her nipple rise up to his touch. She arched her back as his fingers played over the soft cotton and the hard bud underneath. This image of her would stay in his memory forever.

Another song, another voice rolled in, this one a bluesy prayer of temporary sexual devotion from a restless spirit. The singer's wise, evocative voice had been waiting for this moment to go from background noise to visceral experience. Sascha's subtle moves matched the song's sexy cadence. The lyrics conjured up an image of her crawling across his bed, inviting him to take and taste while he had her there. And he would. Her knees pressed into his thighs, making him hungry for the moment when he'd see and feel all of her.

Sascha grabbed the back of the couch to stop her hands from stopping him. Nervous excitement roared in her ears as he pushed her jacket down her arms. Being sensible and good was no match for feeling this feminine and alive...in a plain cotton bra, no less. He traced the edge of her bra strap and followed the line cupping her right breast. To her relief, he liked what he saw. It was in his eyes, in his smile. His eyes locked on hers. Up close they were stunning. Peridot green with golden flecks. The indigo blue bands around his irises made the green more vivid.

"What?"

Sascha rubbed the back of his head, enthralled with its velvet texture. She thought she felt him shiver so she did it again. He pressed his head into her palm and his thick black lashes swept down. Mercy. Five minutes in this man's lap was doing wonders for her ego.

"What?" he asked again.

The standard eyes line certainly applied here. She opened and closed her mouth as she considered the compliment on the tip of her tongue. Too corny. And he must have heard it all the time. "I-I want to see you too," she offered instead then realized the words were true.

The corners of his mouth lifted as his eyes turned an intense green. The devil had come out to play. "Go for it."

His shirt flew to the carpet in seconds.

Sascha didn't know which part of his sun-kissed skin to zoom in first: the silver hoop that pierced his right nipple or the line of characters stamped along his left side. Everything about him was beautiful. He had a swimmer's build, toned, strong and slightly lean rather than the swollen, chunks of muscle one expected of a man who made fitness his trade. His skin had a touch of sun and a dusting of light brown hair that narrowed in a trail down the length of his stomach.

"Does it have a meaning?" she asked of the ancient scroll, trying to keep her imagination from following the line of hair that disappeared below his waistband.

"It's 'peace of mind' in Sanskrit." Of all the phrases she would've inked on his skin, peace of mind wasn't one of them.

"Searching for it?"

"Aren't we all?"

"That's not what I asked." His eyes told her she was close to losing access. She tilted the hoop with a tentative finger. "Did it hurt a lot when you got this?"

He rubbed her back then palmed her backside. "Like hell. But you're doing a good job of making up for it."

Sascha dropped her hand as if she'd touched fire. She expected him to laugh at her but he didn't. His voice dropped an octave, calling her to walk on the wild side as he reached for her face and said, "Do it again—with your tongue this time."

Her mouth watered in anticipation even before her tongue swirled around the flat brown nipple. The taste of metal and clean skin drifted into her senses as she drew him into her mouth. She breathed him in. No cologne, just Noah and the faint scent of soap. The way he arched into her mouth when her teeth raked across the piercing, emboldened her. He writhed under her hands as they tested the solidness beneath his shoulders then skated over the lines of muscle crisscrossing his stomach.

"You're such a tease," Noah murmured while his fingers twisted in her hair, pressing her closer. He rolled his hips beneath her to let her know how much he liked what she was doing to him. Her body's reaction was immediate.

One sharp tug at the back of her head brought her up for another round of kisses. He was unlike any man she'd attracted or been attracted to. He wasn't coy; there was no guessing game in the way his tongue curled around hers, in the way he held her face in his hands. Kiss after kiss hit her like a drug until he loosened her jeans. The wet smack of her lips leaving his hit her ears like a dose of reality. His fingers were already... She let out a whoosh of air and tensed. How could one kiss get this far?

"Noah—" Her protest blended with a sigh of satisfaction as he fit his palm to her mound. It had been so long since she'd received pleasure from hands besides her own, that giving in felt alien. The heat of his hand brought every nerve she had to life, made her crave a more intimate caress. But good girls didn't allow this. She felt like an electrical cable overloaded with conflicting currents.

She remembered Stav and Helena, the girls in the ladies' room. Her mind homed in on the one thing that overrode the voice of caution: For once, she wouldn't have to watch from the sidelines.

"Don't stop." She closed her eyes and willed the last of her resistance to fade.

Noah pushed back a wave of her hair to catch the expressions flickering across her face. Something about the way she arched her neck, the way her almond-shaped eyes fluttered made him want the moment to last. He stroked her again, paying attention to the sounds she made, how her body moved as he marveled at the textures beneath his fingertips.

Her wetness turned him on, that was a given. But her soft, wiry curls called out primal urges in him. He'd gotten so used to shaved and manicured pussy he'd forgotten how this felt. Wild. Taboo. Real.

"You're so sexy," he whispered while he petted her.

She clutched his shoulders, her mouth opened wide but she made no sound. Her look of awe spoke volumes. One song faded into the start of another while he learned the kind of touch Sascha liked best. She licked and bit her lower lip, failing to trap her breathy moans inside her mouth. Watching her sway between being a lady and a sex kitten was the hottest thing he'd seen in ages. He had the center of her universe in the palm of his hand and he intended to turn it upside down.

"Oh—oh!" she crooned as he touched her inside. Her voice thinned until her mouth parted in soundless ohs and her eyes went heavy lidded. So responsive, so pretty.

He learned her flesh with every come hither pass, noted her heat, her readiness for him. Damn. The rumor about small women being tighter was true. He wanted out of these jeans, eager to get to her, eager to compare the slick flesh clamped around his fingers against his cock. But he wanted her so hot for him she'd beg.

"Look at me." Sascha obeyed and it did her in.

In over a decade of masturbation, she had never touched herself like this or gotten the first spark of pleasure to ignite so quickly. It burned bright then raced along the sensitive pathways inside her body. Another spark followed then another and another. Each one hotter, brighter, faster than the one before. She swirled her hips in time with his fingers, instinctively seeking more pleasure and finding it.

When he spoke, his voice sounded dark and thick with lust. "That's it, make yourself come. Make yourself come. "

He whispered words that lead her to a place she'd never known. Somewhere decadent and thrilling and dangerous. And his touch...his touch made her sob into his shoulder and grind over his erection. His lips closed over the pulse beating at her neck. The small gesture triggered something carnal, something kept in check for far too long. Everything converged within her, ready to collapse on itself and pull her down with it.

He'd hooked her orgasm onto his curling fingers and reeled it in, hard and fast. She squeezed her eyes shut as tremors rolled through her. There was moment of calm within the darkness behind her eyelids. Then white hot sensation broke through.

"There it is," he growled, his tone triumphant. "Come for me. Open your eyes...let me see you."

She flew and crashed and flew again, heard him say things she didn't comprehend as his lips roamed her face. Her body vaulted past its physical limits and transformed into pure energy, shimmering and infinite. He held her, was strong for her and softened her fall back to earth.

The hum of pleasure that left her sweetly exhausted dimmed with every shaky breath she took. "So good," she whispered into the crook of his neck.

"Yeah?"

She nodded against his skin, smiling at the ridiculousness of his question.

Her cheek never left his shoulder as he rose up from the couch with her in his arms. She folded her legs around his waist and zoomed in on the tattoo on his shoulder blade. A series of arcs formed a circle but it wasn't until they got to his bedroom that the sinuous black lines to morph from an abstract tribal pattern to a pair of coiled dragons forming yin and yang. She forgot to ask him about it when he kissed her again and promised her more.

* * *

Somewhere between dreams and sleep Sascha realized she wasn't alone. She wiggled her hips to get closer to the warmth along her back and heard a rumbling, "Mmm". Something soft grazed her shoulder. An arm hugged her middle and pulled her into heaven.

An arm?

"Alex?" How'd he get here? A sleepy haze pulled her under its sweet spell before the answer came.

The second time Sascha woke up, she wished she hadn't. She turned her back to the sunlight and dragged a pillow over her head to drown out the noise. She tried to shift but her body protested. Why was the blender running? And who was using it? She craved more sleep but there was someone in her apartment. Someone's in the apartment! Her head snapped up a full inch before she dropped it again. Jeez, it felt heavy and clogged up. Her skin felt feverish. She tossed the pillow aside and rolled over to find her bed lower to the floor. What?

The sisal rug had vanished.

This wasn't her bedroom.

This wasn't her apartment.

This was...

Oh God—oh God—oh God!

But there was no divine intervention to pluck her from this spot and set her down in her familiar haven behind the wall. What she got was the answer to how she came to be here, one lurid clip at a time. Noah laying her down on the bed. Rolling across the sheets. The delicious friction of denim on denim. Kisses. Lying atop him, watching him watch her come. Noah cradling her face afterwards, his green eyes soft, just like his voice.