Page 66 of The Love We Make
The ninety percent of your true self you insist on hiding, I think, and the reasons why. “Fuck, yes. But let’s not get into that tonight.”
Nora nods. “For your information, I need to get up at five tomorrow.”
“Oh, god,” I groan. I don’t know how to prepare myself for another brutal wake-up call like that. “There goes my beauty sleep.”
“You don’t have to stay if it’s too much.”
“I want to stay.”
“It’s up to you. Either way, I won’t be offended. As long as you stay a good long while now.”
“Want to watch another movie?” I waggle my eyebrows.
“I want you.” Nora tugs at my hand. “I really do, Mimi.”
I put any notions of feeling her up on the patio out of my head—maybe I can save them for later—and let Nora take me to her bedroom. We kiss and it’s perfect. Nora’s desire for me is obvious in the press of her lips against mine, in how her tongue darts deeper into my mouth. Nora Levine wants me, that much is clear. And I want her too—I do. Ever so slowly, I’m beginning to scratch the surface. She’s allowing me a peek underneath her carefully orchestrated facade. I’m infinitely intrigued, so I’m exactly where I need to be.
We peel off our clothes because we have no time to waste. That wretched alarm clock is going to blare way too early. But before that, Nora is all mine, and I want her squirming underneath my touch.
I lie next to her, my body glued to hers. My fingers dance across her skin. I can’t tear my lips away from hers just yet, even though I’m dying to taste another part of her. Nora spreads her legs for me, eagerly, and my hand slides down. To touch her there is everything. To make her feel like this. Not only because I’m well on the way to falling in love with her, but because of how she is. Of how unlikely this is for her, and how privileged that makes me.
My fingers skate through her wetness as I gauge if it’s enough, if she’s ready for me. We’re magically in sync because Nora pauses our kiss and reaches for her bedside table. She hands me a bottle of lube and the intimacy of the act touches me. She must both trust me and have prepared for this. The preparedness is very Nora—the trust, I’m not so sure.
I make certain Nora’s plenty wet before I enter her. She reaches for me, wants to pull me in for another kiss as my fingertip slides inside her, but I need to see her face. Her breath stalls as my finger slips in deeper, as Nora wraps herself around me. She doesn’t look away, although her eyes flutter shut as I slide my finger all the way in.
She opens her eyes when I start to move inside her. Nora looks at me with her gaze full of surrender and I have to swallow a lump in my throat. My own emotions threaten to spill over, but this moment is about her. I focus on my finger. I slide out of her and add another. I slip deep inside of her, my gaze firmly on her, on her gorgeous face, on how she gives herself to me. Nora doesn’t have to tell me in words that this isn’t something she does regularly. That this is special to her—it’s special to me too.
I touch the heel of my hand to her clit as my fingers move inside her. Looking her in the eyes like this is almost too intense for me. I cast my gaze down to her magnificent breasts and the subtle curve of her biceps as Nora’s hand curls around my free wrist.
We may have many hiccups in whatever we’re doing, in what we’re trying to build together, but we’ll always have moments like this to come back to. If things get dicey, the way Juan predicted they surely would, all I have to do is remember the magic of this moment with her, my fingers deep inside her, her pelvis writhing under my palm.
Nora gasps for breath. She groans at my touch. She lets go of everything that in other circumstances might hold her back. She gives herself to me completely. Nora tightens around my fingers. Her muscles spasm, before her body relaxes fully and she expels a moan so guttural, it engulfs me with a huge wave of happiness.
Silently, she pulls me near. I disappear into her warm embrace. Without words, she tells me everything I need to know.
CHAPTER29
NORA
I can barely lift my fork to my mouth after this morning’s workout with Marcy. Mimi’s glance burns on me, but she doesn’t say anything. I don’t ask what she’s thinking because I’m not in the mood to hear the answer. I’d much rather bask in the afterglow of our amazing night together. Of what she makes me capable of.
“How about,” Mimi starts, “the three of you celebrate Thanksgiving at my house?”
“Hm.” Is she serious? Despite what I blurted out the other night, that’s a big step. “I don’t know.”
“I’m asking you now, so you have time to think about it and discuss it with Juan and Imani.”
Smart move. “Is it just your kids and their families or is anyone else coming?”
“My ex-husband and his wife will be there.”
“For real?”
Mimi nods as though this is how all divorced people spend the holidays. “Eric and I are still friends. It was important to us to keep that intact for the kids’ sake.”
“You want me to spend Thanksgiving with your ex-husband?” I can’t think of a more horrible way to spend the holiday, unless, perhaps, spending it with my own family.
“I’m just putting it out there that it would mean a lot to me to spend it with you, but I acknowledge that my family is a lot. No hard feelings if you decline. If you think that makes things move too quickly.”
