14

Noah wanted to make the sign of the cross as he and Ingrid walked toward the hotel parking lot. Cade had convinced Maverick and Raffy to join them at Vibe. Meanwhile, he insisted that Ingrid ride with him, as Cade had invited her into his car.

The woman smiled at him when he opened the door of his Porsche Macan for her.

"Thank you," she said, her eyes shining, as if no one had ever done such a thing for her before.

When Noah got into the driver’s seat, he noticed Ingrid struggling to pull her seatbelt to buckle it.

He leaned closer. "Sorry about that. It gets stuck sometimes."

God, she smelled exquisite.

Noah reached for the seatbelt and tried jolting it, but it seemed as if the stubborn thing was deliberately resisting him. He suppressed the urge to curse. His hormones were already on edge.

When he glanced at Ingrid’s face, he caught her staring at him. Her lips were slightly parted, as if she were breathing through them. Her eyes looked curious and fascinated at the same time. That, and something else…

Noah yanked at the stubborn seatbelt several times before it finally came loose. He carefully fastened it, and just as he was about to pull away from her, he noticed that she seemed frozen in her seat.

Was he making her nervous?

He wanted to tell her that she was having the same effect on him. He just wasn’t sure if their nervousness stemmed from the same reason—because, in his case, the reason was utterly sinful. He was sitting in a car with the woman who had fueled his dirtiest fantasies outside of work, their bodies almost touching. Countless dirty thoughts fought to play in his mind.

"Ingrid, I can drive you home now if you want," he struggled to say.

How he wanted to kick himself. This was his chance to be with the woman who had ignited his deepest desires, and here he was, offering to send her home.

She swallowed, as if gathering courage.

"W-why are you avoiding me, Sir?" she asked softly.

Noah chuckled, embarrassed and frustrated. "I’m not avoiding you."

But she met his gaze steadily, a flicker of something flashing in her eyes. He knew what it was—that suppressed, tiny flame of boldness.

"I-I just noticed it at the office," Ingrid said.

Instead of denying it, his eyes flickered to her lips. She sucked in a breath. Somehow, he could feel that their hearts were pounding in sync at that moment.

"Do you really not want to go home?" he asked, his voice rough, laced with both warning and invitation.

Ingrid shook her head gently. "As far as I know, my work at RTA is done for the day. I-I can say no to your orders," she told him, though with some difficulty.

She was struggling to argue with him, yes. But there was something powerful pushing her to overcome her timidness.

And he knew exactly what it was.

Noah saw her pupils dilate when she saw him swallow hard. He wasn’t imagining things. He could truly feel the sexual tension between them, and it was starting to make him ache.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. This woman’s mouth looked so damn tempting—it felt like a mortal sin not to devour it.

"If I kissed you right now, would you say no?" His voice was raw, demanding.

Ingrid didn’t speak, though she flinched in her seat. But Noah saw the answer in her eyes. Actually, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening between them. They were both ready to plunge into sin at that moment.

He was about to lean in and press his lips against hers when a loud honk interrupted them. His eyes narrowed as Cade’s Audi sped past them.

Neither he nor Ingrid spoke as he started the car. But he knew there was no denying that something had ignited between them—something that couldn’t be stopped.

They remained silent when they arrived at Vibe, but they kept catching each other’s eyes and exchanging secret smiles. The place was crowded, with a band playing slightly older music.

Cade was the chatty one at their table. When he spotted a pretty woman, he left the four of them behind. Maverick and Raffy were talking while drinking light beer, and Ingrid was sipping a cocktail. She mentioned that she didn’t usually drink alcohol. After a while, Maverick excused himself, saying he had an early flight the next day.

"Oh, you guys are so quiet," Raffy noted, realizing she was the only one talking.

Noah and his executive assistant exchanged glances before quickly looking away. Ingrid let out a shy, nervous laugh. His own chuckle sounded awkward.

"I can’t imagine you two working together. I can’t stand long silences," Raffy teased. After a moment, he stood up. "C’mon, Ingrid. Let’s dance," she said, pulling her hand. "Pat said you’re good at Zumba. Don’t be shy now, girl. Show me your moves."

Noah was surprised when Ingrid actually let Raffy drag her to the dance floor as the band played an upbeat song.

Hot damn. Ingrid had moves!

He found himself drinking more than usual because his throat had gone dry from watching her. The way she moved her hands and swayed her hips—it was very, very sensual. Her smooth, creamy thigh peeking out from her skirt looked delectable.

When Ingrid caught him watching her, he boldly held her gaze. Something told him she wanted to be watched by him. And he was right, because she smiled at him and danced even better.

This night had turned very, very interesting.

Raffy was panting when she and Ingrid returned to their table. "My goodness! I think my headdress got ruined in my hair," she said, laughing as she touched the large ornament on her head.

The two went to the restroom, and when they returned, Raffy announced she was heading home.

"Do you want to come with me?" she asked Ingrid.

Instead of answering, she looked at Noah. Her gaze told him she wanted to stay with him longer—if he’d let her. He smiled in agreement.

"I’ll be the one totake her home," he told his cousin.

He and Ingrid noticeably loosened up once they were alone at the table. It was also clear that they were both enjoying the moment.

"I didn’t know you could dance," Noah said.

"It's because we don’t really talk that often, Sir," she replied with a smile.

Noah laughed. "Right," he said, grabbing a corn chip from the plate of loaded nachos.

Ingrid pointed at his face as he chewed. "Sir… You have cream—"

"O-Oh." He tried wiping the right corner of his mouth.

"It’s still there." She was still pointing at his lips. "May I?"

Heat surged through his veins the moment her thumb touched the upper left corner of his mouth. He noticed it had the same effect on her because she quickly pulled her hand back. But he was faster—he caught her wrist.

She gasped as he pulled her hand closer to his mouth and pushed her thumb inside. Her beautiful face twisted in surprise as he swirled his tongue around her finger. Her cheeks flushed—a clear sign that his boldness had flustered her. Was she trying to suppress a moan?

Ingrid let out a soft laugh when he finally let her pull her finger free. She rubbed her nape and turned to watch the band. She looked dangerously hot.

When the band started playing again, he invited her to dance. Like a prince, he bowed slightly as he waited for her to sling her small purse across her body. He even felt a thrill when she placed her hand in his.

"I must warn you, the last time I danced was at my high school prom," Noah admitted as they walked toward the dance floor.

"I’ve never danced to slow music before," Ingrid chuckled. "I don’t really dance, Sir. The Zumba I do with Pat is just at home every Saturday."

When they found a spot, he carefully wrapped his arms around the woman's waist. He even flinched a little when she rested her hands on his shoulders. He was starting to think this dance might be a bad idea—because here came his hormones again, raging out of control.

Noah swallowed hard, like he could only breathe one breath at a time. He couldn't stand it anymore. Being this close to the woman he was lusting after felt like pure agony. And now, he was holding her—close enough to breathe in her intoxicating scent.

"Ingrid," he called.

But the music was too loud—she didn’t hear him. He leaned in to whisper in her ear.Wrong move. It only made his hormones spiral further out of control.

"Ingrid…"

She looked at him. "Yes?"

Was it just him, or was her face flushed and her eyes droopy? Maybe it was just the mellow lights.

"Sir?"

She didn’t seem to realize that one of her hands was clutching his shirt over his chest.

Noah stopped himself from saying that he wanted to sit down.