Tempting | My Brother's Best Friend [18+]

Chapter Thirty Three

My alarm blares at seven thirty on the dot. 

The smell of Thai food hits my nose, an empty wine bottle clunks on the carpet when I throw out my arm, and my hair is stuck to my forehead in clumps. 

It takes three attempts to press snooze. The second my head hits the pillow another alarm goes off, this one at the other end of the bedroom. Noah's phone. I lift myself up and eye it's position on the carpet near the door. 

Wow. We really did a number on this room last night. 

There are clothes strewn all over the floor, empty food boxes discarded around the bed, a very distinct smell of sex lingering on every piece of visible fabric. How did we pull the duvet cover off? 

Probably the wine. 

I flop back onto the bed, ignoring the alarm that continues to sound over and over. My hair peels away from my forehead in one clump, but before I can begin to fix that situation, arms snake around my shoulders and a body presses against my own. 

"Hi," he breathes, into my matted hair, into my soul. 

"Hi," I repeat. 

Noah throws one leg over to the of mine and tightens his hold on me, kissing down the length of my naked shoulder. 

"You alarm is going off." 

"I've got ears." 

"Prick," I hiss, but snuggle into his hold nonetheless. More kisses along my neck, his body caging my own like he's trying to fold me into his chest and take me to work with him. 

I tilt my head back and accept his open mouthed kiss. 

One finger appears on my stomach. An involuntary shiver - which should not happen, because we had sex four times last night. Once in the middle of the night after we'd both fallen asleep. I woke up in a similar situation to this one, with Noah's hands on my waist and something pressing into my back. The second I turned over and kissed him he was inside me, holding my left leg up against my chest. 

My pussy clenches at the thought. A hot flush prickles to break out over my entire body and my nonexistent abs clench under his touch. 

That one finger drags up to my chest and then traces the line under my breast. I swallow the liquid that suddenly appears in my mouth and reach back to touch him too. Anywhere I can get my hands. 

Anywhere turns out to be his hip, which my nails instantly dig into. 

"You look pretty in the morning," Noah rasps, against the skin below my ear. 

I twist in his arms, my brow furrowing as we meet eyes. He immediately breaks out into a smile. I do not look pretty right now. I'm slightly wine-hungover, which usually means there's mascara rubbed around my eyes and a particularly lovely morning crust around my lips. My hair is in tatters, matted like I was fucked into a mattress four times - which, well, I was. Point being: this is not the usual put-togetherness that Noah is used to from me in the morning, and is certainly not the greatest I've ever looked. (Although I'm sure it's also not the worst. That fucking work party.) 

My face is a still picture of disbelief in contrast with his smile. 

"Alright," he hums. "You look fucked - which, to me, is very pretty."

"Funny." 

"Think I'm lying?" 

I eye him. 

Another smirk. "I'm offended. You look like a fucking picture, all sex-hair and big innocent eyes, and I'm supposed to what? Not want to fuck you again?"