Some Girls Never Learn Ch. 02

He looked into her begging eyes with a split second of confusion.

It was long and obvious enough for the officer to added, "She claims she lives her. She's drunk."

"I amn not, not drunk!" She said it for the third time since he'd taken her in an ungentlemanly manner from her front seat.

Noah smiled, then cleared his throat and tried to sound serious, "Yes, sir. She belongs here. Young lady, how many times have I told you..."

He halted his performance and returned his attention to the cop, "I appreciate you bringing her home. I will take care of this. She'll be punished."

It was the cop who cleared his throat and suppressed an involuntary laugh, "Punished, huh?"

He shook his head and turned to leave, laughing out loud as he reached the elevator.

"I tolds him yous are my boyfriend, not my faaather...stupid, stupid, stuu-pidd," she leaned against the wall. She reeked of the alcohol.

He shook his head, "You're going to sleep it off here, but if you puke, you're the one cleaning it up."

When she started to stumble her way through the door, he put his arm around her and led her to the bedroom. As she sat on the bed, her body swayed just a bit. He shook his head and helped her out of her jacket.

She muttered, "I'm sorwy, No-oah. I shouln be here. I..."

He pushed her gently back against the pillows.

He leaned close and said, "We can talk in the morning. Sleep, kid. It'll keep."

'If you remember,' he thought.

She looked as if she might try to speak again, but then she was out.

He sat beside her on the bed for a moment. He reached and unlaced her heavy boots and pulled them from her feet. He shook his head to see Strawberry Shortcake socks covering her feet.

He laughed to himself and whispered, "Who dresses you?"

He stood and stared at her. Slowly, he saw that she was as he painted her. Had her eyes been open and her clothes...well, if she were wearing only his sheet, it was the very picture he created. Noah pulled off her cut-offs and then his jeans, ignoring the voice that told him to go back to the couch. Crawling in bed beside her, he reached and touched her soft curls. He fell asleep listening to her breathe, the vision of another red-haired creation forming so effortlessly in his mind. One hand mindlessly cupped her breast.

When she awoke, her body was a sweaty entanglement with his, his warm hand covering her exposed breast. He looked asleep, although he mumbled something incomprehensible when she pulled herself from his arms.

As she sat up, her head swam and her stomach lurched. How she ended up in Noah's arms was unimportant as she jumped up and ran to the bathroom. She hit her knees in front of the toilet wincing from an injury she didn't remember. After a few moments passed and she didn't throw up, she rocked slowly onto her heels. How had she ended up in Noah's apartment?

Piece by torturous piece, the night's events returned to her mind. The car. The cop. She felt sick for an altogether new reason as she wondered what the hell she might have said to him. That part of her memory refused to return clearly.

She looked down at her open shirt. Her breasts were bare. She tried to remember...no, she hadn't worn a bra. Her pants, her shoes and one sock were missing. One sock? She groaned when she saw what she'd thrown on when she left for what was meant to be a quick trip to the liquor store.

'Laundry,' she chided herself, 'This wouldn't happen if you did your laundry!'

"Emma?" Noah's sleepy, concerned voice erased all thoughts about her lack of domestication.

What would she say to him this morning? How was she going to explain...any of it?

'Oh, no big deal, a psychic told me to sit in front of your building, get drunk and pass out. See ya in class.'

Somehow she didn't think he'd understand that one. She got to her feet slowly, still uncertain of both her stomach and her explanation.

He sat up in the bed, the crumpled sheet at his waist. She'd been in his bed and in his dreams. They'd been in New York City. She was sitting on a stool inside the roach-motel- sized studio where he'd lived as a graduate student. She looked so lost, but he could only stare at her beauty from a distance. There was music; he remembered that much. But, she never spoke. The dream disturbed him in an inexplicable way, but there was no time to dwell on interpreting it.

When she all but tiptoed out of the bathroom, as if light steps might make her blend into the surroundings and disappear from his eyes and his questions, she made him smile. Whatever disconcerting feelings remained from his sleep disappeared as her breasts peaked out from behind her open shirt. His cock was quick to respond.

"There you are," he leaned forward and patted the bed beside him, "Sit your hung-over ass down here, young lady."

He laughed when she bit her lip and slowly returned his smile.

As she sat down, he pushed her hair to one side and whispered in her ear, "I expect you to be here when I get back."

She turned and looked questioningly at him as he jumped up and disappeared into the bathroom. She blushed to see his obvious erection in the bright morning light.

Once he was out of sight, she dug beneath the covers to discover her missing sock. Her missing pants lay folded beside the bed. She thought for a moment of putting them on, and then thought better of it.

Out of nowhere, she thought, 'I've never had sex during the day.'

She didn't see that fact being remedied until he returned and smiled at her again.

Noah sat down next to Emma and pulled her back into the bed with him.

He held her against his chest and whispered in her ear, "Now, what was so important that you showed up on my doorstep in the middle of the night?"

He knew he should get up, get dressed, leave her alone, but there was just something about her unbuttoned shirt and little panties that called to him.

Emma swallowed hard, feeling his erection pressed against her again. She knew she should turn and run like she promised Miriam, but there was no way she could leave him now.

She stuttered back, "It'll keep," as she turned and found his lips.

Noah kissed her languidly, enjoying the moment of her assertiveness. She bit his lower lip, and he grinned, tossing her onto her back. He unbuttoned the one remaining closure of her shirt and stared at her beautiful breasts, at the slight curve of her belly and her smooth hips.

Emma jumped when he suddenly tweaked a nipple between his teeth. He laughed, and so did she. His fingers snuck slowly under her panties. She was already soaking wet. He moved up on her, but her hands pressed him away.

"No," Emma said with a slight shove, "Let me be on top this time."

Noah smiled from ear-to-ear, sure he was about to be rejected. Instead his fantasy was melding with his reality. He rolled to his back, taking Emma with him.

She slipped her panties to the side and positioned herself above his stiff cock. She bit her lip and looked down into his eyes, slowly rubbing against hard penis. Then, she was there, sliding him inside of her, so very deep. Emma inhaled and closed her eyes. It felt so different as she sat still on him, holding him, squeezing around him, knowing she could move how she wanted to move.

Noah did his best not to grab her hips and slam his cock up into the heat of her pussy. It was overwhelming, the sight of her tussled hair and pert nipples, the smell of her arousal, and the little noises she made as she sank down onto him. But, he waited for her.

Slowly, Emma began to move on him, one torturous inch at a time she moved up and then down again. Her face and her chest flushed at the feeling. Her breaths came closer together as she moved a little faster, still timid.

Noah leaned up and took one nipple into his mouth and then the other, suckling, savoring. As he lay back he raised his hips just slightly to meet her. Her breasts did bounce in the beautiful manner he had imagined.

After as many minutes as he could stand, Noah whispered, "Can I?"

Emma looked confused, until he reached up, pulled her chest to his and plowed into her.

She almost screamed as she answered, "Yes!"

Her nipples grazed his chest and became painful points. Her fingers touched his face briefly, and then found a home in his thick hair. She called his name again and again as he took her over the edge.

Noah moved fast and hard inside of her. Her teasing movements had him ready. He wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her down hard, thrusting into her. She did scream as he filled her with his cock and his cum.

He stayed inside of her as she went limp on top of him. She whimpered a little as he inevitably slid out. He pushed her hair aside and leaned down to kiss her forehead. When she raised her head, there were no tears this time.

She smiled softly and said, "I didn't know sex could feel this good."

Not lying, he answered, "Me either, baby."

Noah held Emma until his arm went numb. Finally, he suggested they should get out of the bed and discuss what was on her mind.

Emma watched intently when he opened his dresser door and pulled out a pair of sweat pants. Watching him dress fascinated her almost as much as watching him undress. If he were the paint, she'd watch him dry.

When he turned and caught her staring, he joked, "Checking me out, huh?"

She blushed and looked to the floor. She wished a smart-ass answer would come to her mind, but there wasn't one. She couldn't help smiling, though. Yeah, she was checking him out.

He grinned at her, "Just 'cause we had great sex and now you're sitting there looking all cute and pitiful doesn't mean you're not in trouble."

She stammered, "I can explain."

He laughed as she searched desperately for the words. A little voice told him he should be concerned that he was the one she came to when she was in trouble, but he ignored it.

He concentrated instead on her open shirt and long legs and little girl shyness. He couldn't quite comprehend how one night of fucking had brought about this change in her demeanor, but he couldn't deny it had happened. He wasn't sure how he felt about it.

"Think you could drink some coffee?"

He headed towards the door, knowing he needed to get them out of the bedroom before he kept them there all day.

She nodded and followed him to the kitchen.

As he ran the water into the glass pot, he said, "Um, honey, much as I hate to say this...but, maybe you should button your shirt."

She bit her lip at his words. She didn't even think about how she must look to him.

She stuttered, "I should just go."

Noah flipped the little orange switch to 'on' before he turned and said, "I'll take you home, honey. Just let me get a cup of coffee in me."

She shook her head, "No, its okay, my car is out front."

She realized her mistake when his expression changed.

His eyebrows furrowed together when he repeated her statement as a question. "Your car is out front? Of my building?"

Emma felt hot and flushed. He didn't know she was there, wanting to see him, unable to work up the courage, sober or drunk.

Immediately she rambled, as quickly as possible, everything she knew, "You see, Miriam had Mary Beth come over. Mary Beth has this little place at the end of the block where she reads palms and stuff. She makes a lot of money. Anyway, Miriam wanted Mary Beth to tell me that I should stay away from you..."

He stared, crossing his arms across his chest as she continued.

"So, she does my tarot cards and tells me that we are meant to be together instead of apart. Pissed Miriam off. Then, I couldn't sleep, and Miriam was playing at some club that I couldn't remember the name of. So, I bought some Night Train from Junior, and I came here because I thought maybe we should talk since I was such an idiot last time I was here. And, I thought if I drank some of the Night Train I wouldn't be as scared to talk to you..."

He wasn't sure if he had ever heard so many words strung together in such a short span of time...in his life.

"...And your light was on, but I didn't know if you'd really want to see me. And I didn't want you to think I was stalking you or something. Because I'm not. I know you don't want me. Well, you might want me, but not want me want me."

He smirked.

"I do know that. I just wanted to know why Mary Beth would say something like that and I thought if I came here I might know why. I think why might be the stupidest question in the world. There's some quote about that, but I can't remember who said it right now. And, anyway, I parked and drank some more of the Night Train, and I just fell asleep and all. And, then the cop saw me, and he said he was going to make me go to jail for the night. So, I told him I wasn't gonna drive cause I lived up here. And, well, you know the rest."

She took a deep breath.

"So, basically you came here because a psychic told you that I'm your soul mate?" He tried to repress his laugh, but he couldn't.

She was quiet, and then answered, "Yes."

"Hmmm," he pulled two coffee cups from the cabinet and sat them on the counter as he contemplated her explanation, "So, you're not stalking me, right? Cause I might need to call that cop back if you are."

She stared long enough for him to turn around and reveal his smile.

She rolled her eyes then, "No...what an ego."

He grinned again. "It's okay, Emma. As long as you don't make it a habit of having cops bring you to my door in the middle of the night, I'm cool."

His laissez-faire attitude left her both relieved and slightly confused.

"Noah," she asked quietly, "Do you mind if I come here without the cops?"

He audibly inhaled and exhaled. He didn't mind. A half-naked beautiful nineteen-year old who wanted to hang out with him and who let him fuck her, too?

He shook away the desire and answered, "It's not that I mind, I'm just not sure it's a great idea, either. Whatever the psychic said, I'm just not a relationship kinda guy, and that's not just with you, honey. It's with any woman. Really."

He tried to make the lie sound convincing.

She picked up the hot cup of coffee he sat in front of her and took a tentative sip.

"You don't have to be my...boyfriend," the word sounded immature and she hated that, "We could...be friends?"

He pulled his chair close to hers. "Friends?"

The compassionate man who would have fed her and sent her home never stood a chance in the internal battle that ensued. He was certain that fucking her had brought his painting back to life. Hell, the picture was her.

The whole time he painted, he'd thought, 'If only...'

He envisioned her in the studio with him. Naked. Servicing his artistic eye. Even now, he wasn't sure that he didn't need her. Her mere passed-out presence last night had him seeing a second painting.

Finally, he spoke, partly from the unabashed lust she brought out in him and partly for the sake of his art, "Okay, then, we can do this."

He tuned out the voice that said, yet again, 'Asshole.'

He knew it was one of the most self-serving decisions he'd ever made, but he couldn't lose his vision again. What could it hurt? Really. He told himself he could be her mentor. She could even use a part of his studio. The idea made it all seem less questionable to him.

He smiled at her. She tried to smile. They'd be friends. She could live with that. She thought she could. Maybe.

After a moment, he added, "There's something I want to show you first."