In the end, I win by a hair, both of us breathless with laughter.
“I demand a rematch,” Noah says, catching my hand as I reach for more cabbage. His touch ignites sparks, and I still, my pulse racing for an entirely different reason.
“Next time, I’ll destroy you,” I say, hoping my voice sounds steady.
Noah steps closer, heat shimmering in his eyes. “Is that a promise?” His other hand comes to rest on my hip, his touch searing even through my clothes.
I swallow hard, caught between the urge to close the distance between us and flee before I do something I regret. “If you think you can handle losing again,” I challenge weakly.
Noah grins. “Losing has its benefits.” And then his mouth descends on mine in a kiss that steals my breath away.
My hands come up to grip his shoulders as Noah deepens the kiss, hunger and heat rolling off him in waves.
I respond in kind, pent-up desire crashing over me in a tidal wave of sensation.
We break apart, our chests heaving.
Noah rests his forehead on mine, eyes dark with want. “To be continued?” he asks in a rough whisper.
I nod, heart pounding. “Definitely.”
After all, we have a date with some larb and sticky rice.
We pull apart reluctantly, the tension between us simmering.
Clearing my throat, I bend to scoop up bits of cabbage and meat and sticky rice.
Noah does the same, though his gaze keeps straying to me, heat flickering in his eyes.
My cheeks flush under his gaze as we enjoy our meal. The flavors are intense, potent, and in a way they remind me a lot of Noah. But they’re also exotic, sexy and dangerous… a side to Noah that he seems to keep hidden but is clearly very much part of him.
Finally, Noah speaks, his voice casual though his words are anything but. “So, you think you can handle me in the bedroom as well as you do on the pitch?”
I nearly drop the bowl I’m holding. “Is that a challenge?” I ask, aiming for nonchalance and missing by a mile.
Noah’s grin is slow and predatory. “If you think you can keep up.”
My breath catches at the images those words conjure. I set the bowl down before I really do drop it. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Noah steps closer, and I back into the counter, heart pounding. He braces his hands on either side of me, leaning in until his breath feathers over my lips. “I never make promises I can’t deliver on.”
The simmering tension ignites into an inferno. I surge forward, claiming Noah’s mouth in another searing kiss. Noah groans, pulling me flush against him, and desire pools low in my belly.
His massive hand moves to my throat, wrapping around me and gently squeezing as our mouths mash together.
I feel drunk on his power as he holds my mouth to his, claiming me.
We break apart, our chests heaving.
“Fuck me. Now,” I demand, surprised at my own boldness.
Noah’s eyes darken. “Your wish is my command.”
He takes my hand and leads me out of the kitchen and toward a room off to the side, desire burning in his every step.
The promise of what’s to come sets my blood aflame, and I quicken my pace to match his.
He’s set up a little romantic space for us, complete with blankets and cushions, a little laptop set up so we can watch a movie after our meal. Although to be honest, watching a movie is the last thing on my mind right now.