***POV ISABELA***
He's possibly the most irritatingly fascinating creature in the world. Everything he does, the air he breathes, or the words that slip through his lips—everything feels like poetry. He's a pain and a nuisance. He makes me feel so vulnerable. He's one of those rare events in life, one of those people who come crashing into the doors of the heart, knocking everything down and leaving me breathless, like thieves, and then they leave. He's amazing!!! I love the butterflies he causes in my stomach, or how he unknowingly makes me feel so darn good. I've said a million times how beautiful his smile is, right? But I never tire of saying it and admiring it. I love his smile. And I like him, even when he gets mad about something I did or said. He has this power—this power to be frighteningly incredible and ruthlessly captivating. I honestly don't know how to deal with it... But I hope, from the bottom of my heart, that it doesn't end.
I tidied up the equipment on the bag that was on the floor in front of me, putting away the microphone and folding the wires.
"I'm back," my colleague said, approaching me and crouching down beside me. "I'll help you pack up."
I looked around, biting my lower lip in a clear gesture of nervousness.
I was being eaten up inside.
One part of me wanted to rush to the parking lot to talk to Noah and find out what he wanted.
Another part of me was scared. What if someone saw us?
I remember that when I interviewed Noah a few minutes ago, he was shirtless and a few drops of sweat were running down his chest. My God, I thought of so many impure things...
It should be illegal that he was so hot!
Just remembering his presence and how he looked at me with that intense gaze made my panties get wet.
"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be right back," I said to my coworker.
He nodded and continued packing his equipment. I got up and followed the same path I saw Noah taking a few minutes ago.
‘I hope he's still waiting for me,’ I thought.
I took a deep breath and kept walking, always looking around for fear of being caught.
My heart was racing so fast that I could hear it beating.
I crossed the corridor and entered the parking lot, scanning the whole area for him, and my heart stopped for a moment when I saw him leaning against the car with his arms crossed.
He still had his shirt off.
He hadn't seen me yet, which gave me some time to admire him.
Without a shirt, he was sweaty, but he looked extremely sexy like that. His shorts, which matched the team's uniform, were made of a thin cloth and left his member well-marked.
I swallowed my saliva with some difficulty and felt my mouth go dry. I ran my tongue over my lips in a futile attempt to moisten them.
I hardly realized that I was squeezing my legs together, trying to relieve my intimacy, which was throbbing for him.
“Enjoying the view?” I was awakened by his voice. It was a little distant, but I could hear it, and I looked into his face. His eyes were locked on me.
I didn't answer. I just walked quickly to where he was standing.
"What do you want to talk about, Noah?" I asked, stopping in front of him. "You know it's risky. Someone might see us!"
"Why did you come here?" he asked.
I smiled incredulously at his question.
"Work. What else could I be doing here?" I asked, starting to get nervous.
"You've never come to do interviews here. We were together this morning and you didn't tell me anything."
"I do interviews when I'm called, Noah. I was called at the last minute," I replied. "Why are you so angry? Did you not like me coming here?"
"No," he answered dryly, and I was surprised by his sincerity. "I hated it."
I didn't even have time to think about his answer, because he quickly uncrossed his arms and held mine tightly, turning me around and slamming my back against the bonnet of the car he was leaning against earlier.
“I hated seeing all the bastards from that team drying you out or making stupid jokes about you,” I opened my mouth to answer him, but I didn't have the chance because he kept talking. “And I can't even punch them in the face or ask for respect because our affair is hidden. No one knows and you don't want anyone to know.”
“Noah,” I tried to speak again, but he wouldn't stop talking for a second.
“I'm angry. To the point of killing one with my bare hands. And as if those bastards on the team weren't enough, there's that other guy who works with you, how intimate does he think he is to call you Isa?” He questioned.
I was stunned by this jealousy crisis Noah was having. He talked non-stop, the veins in his neck bulging with anger. His hands kept squeezing my arm.
“I'm going to go crazy, Isabela. I swear to you. There's very, very little time before this fucking thing happens. I don't know what the fuck is happening to me, but I don't like the way I feel. You don't know...” I sealed our lips to see if he would stop talking for a while. At first, he didn't react, but then he gave in and kissed me hard. I didn't even care if he was tired; I just gave in to the kiss.
The smell of his cologne mixed with sweat reminded me so much of our first time together. I don't remember what happened, but your scent has stuck to me ever since...
"Fuck!" he grumbled, pulling away. “See what you do to me? I'm going crazy!”
“You've just had a crisis of jealousy.”
“Jealousy?” He asked, looking at me in confusion, and denied it with his head, “Jealousy, what... I don't even know what that is! I'm not a jealous person,” he defended himself.
“Okay, what was all that about now?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I don't know, but it wasn't jealousy.”
“Hum,” I mumbled, taking a whiff of his neck to smell more of his scent.
“I'm fucked, babe. All sweaty...”He tried to pull away, and I held on tightly to his neck.
“Are you going to think I'm crazy if I tell you that I love the way you smell? Sweat mixed with your cologne.” I looked into his eyes.
“Don't do this to me; I could drag you out to the car and fuck you,” he threatened me, and I sensed desperation in his voice.
“I'd want to, because can I confess something to you?” I asked, and he nodded without breaking our eye contact. “I'm very, very wet for you right now.”