Chapter 9 – And Now… What Happens Next?

Chapter 9 – And Now… What Happens Next?

Juliet Pierce

Everything went black, and the world collapsed inside my head. The memories hit like a tidal wave. I couldn’t stop them. When the door opened, my body reacted on pure instinct—years of training it to brace for pain.

Then I heard his voice. The way he said my nickname, soft, calm, safe. My muscles unclenched. My lungs remembered how to breathe.

But I couldn’t let my guard down. No matter how much every part of me wanted to melt into him, I couldn’t.

He carried me like I weighed nothing. Cleaned my wound in the dark like he’d done it a thousand times. His touch was gentle, reverent, completely at odds with the power that rolled off him in waves.

I tried to adjust to the darkness of his office, but all I could feel was him—warm, solid, overwhelming.

His thumb brushed my lips, firm and deliberate. Then his hand slid down my throat, slow, claiming every inch of skin it passed until his fingers locked around the back of my neck.

There was no pain. Only strength. Desire. A heat that flooded places I’d buried years ago.

“Mr. Noah…” His name slipped out as a shameful, needy moan.

He didn’t answer with words.

He just pulled me in and kissed me.

No warning. No permission. But it wasn’t cruel. It was commanding—like he already knew exactly what I wanted and was going to teach me to admit it.

His tongue took my mouth with absolute authority. He tasted like sin. Like control. Like something I would beg for if I weren’t so terrified.

He laid me back on the desk, caging me beneath him, making escape impossible.

My body betrayed me first—hands clutching his shoulders, legs going soft. For one heartbeat I wasn’t the broken woman. I was just… a woman.

Then his fingers dug into my hip. Hard.

Not enough to bruise. Just enough to flip a switch I couldn’t turn off.

My heart slammed against my ribs. My breath vanished. My mind froze.

George’s hands. George’s weight. George’s voice telling me I belonged to him.

No.

“No…” I whispered, turning my face, breaking the kiss.

Noah froze.

For the first time since I’d met him, the man made of steel hesitated.

He pulled back instantly.

I scrambled upright, fingers fumbling in the dark until they closed around my mask. I tied it on like armor.

Footsteps. A flashlight beam cut through the door.

“Blake?” Atlas called.

“We’re here,” Noah answered, voice rough.

Atlas stepped in, light sweeping over the scattered first-aid supplies.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” I said too quietly. “I hurt myself. Mr. Noah patched me up.”

I slid off the desk. “Could someone walk me to get my things? I’d like to go home.”

“I’ll do it,” Noah said. No one argued.

He lit the way with his phone. I grabbed the bags. When I turned, he was right there—I walked straight into his chest.

“Sorry, sir…”

His hand settled on my waist, pulling me flush against him.

“Tell me what just happened,” he murmured, low and controlled, like the kiss hadn’t shaken him at all.

“There’s nothing to tell, sir.” I kept my eyes on the floor.

“Juliet…”

“Mr. Noah, I’m tired. I want to go home.” I finally looked up. “Please.”

His fingers tightened for a second—an unspoken I don’t want to let you go—then released. He took my hand instead.

“I’ll guide you through the dark.”

We walked in silence, fingers laced. At the end of the hallway he let go without looking at me.

“JU!” Samy ran over, frantic. “Oh my God, what happened?”

“I got scared when the lights went out. Fell and hit my head.”

“We’re going home. Now.”

“You sure you don’t want a hospital?” Atlas asked, worry clear.

“I’m fine, Mr. Atlas. Thank you. Mr. Noah did an excellent job.” My smile felt fake even to me.

We said quick goodbyes. Atlas promised to text about next weekend once power was back.

I felt Noah’s eyes on me the entire walk to the car.

When I opened the driver’s door, mine found his across the parking lot.

We just… stared.

I got in, gripped the wheel until my knuckles went white.

“You sure you’re okay?” Samy asked softly.

“Yeah,” I lied. “Just want to get home.”

At the first red light, my fingers drifted to my lips.

I could still taste him.

A real smile—small, secret, terrified—curved my mouth.

The man with the rare green eyes finally had a name.

Noah.

And the question burning in my chest wouldn’t let me go:

How long am I going to be able to resist you, Noah?