Page 54 of The Love We Make

“No.” She grins at me. “Just give me five and, um, I’ll be ready.”

“Ready for what?” I know what she’s getting at, but I do need that conversation.

“You know.” She rakes her gaze over my body. Unlike her, I’m still wearing my underwear.

“We’re not going to do that right now.” I make sure to meet her gaze.

“We’re not?” Confusion crosses her face. “Don’t you want to?”

“Of course, but I want something else more.” I already feel so close to Nora, the vibe between us is so intimate, that whether or not I have an orgasm is of little importance to me. What matters is this moment between us.

“You want to talk?” she asks.

“Or just lie here with you, hold you in my arms.”

“Is this… um, I mean, is there something I should know about your, um, preferences in bed?”

I chuckle. “No. I don’t think so.” I hold out my hand to her. “I want you. Have you seen yourself? You look like a swimsuit model—no, better actually, because you defy age by looking the way you do—but it’s not about that for me right now.” My usual eloquence has deserted me at the sight of Nora’s naked body.

Nora takes my hand. Her fingers are moist, her palm clammy.

“I appreciate that, but um…” Nora has recovered already, because the corners of her mouth lift and she looks at me as though she only has one thing on her mind—devouring me. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.” She lifts my hand to her lips, plants a quick kiss on it, then hops off the bed. “I’ll be right back.” She disappears into the en suite. The bedroom is only lit by the light that spills in from the outside. I hear a pitter-patter outside the door and the sound of Nora splashing some water on her face.

“I think your babies are getting antsy,” I say when Nora walks back into the room. It’s hard to look away from her body. It defies all logic, all laws of being human. I know she’s had Botox to her face, and some filler in her lips, but the rest of her looks totally natural. When I had my hands all over her earlier, I couldn’t believe how rock-hard her abs are. As far as I know, no surgeries have been invented to provide people with six-packs.

“They can wait a while longer.” Nora jumps back into bed with me. “I know you want to talk, but I’m not in a big talking mood right now.” She drags her finger over my belly.

“That climax you just had might catch up with you, emotionally and physically, very soon. I think I should be there for that.”

“You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

“I sure hope not, but Nora… Listen to me. Your body’s just been shocked, basically. Your body and your mind. I don’t take that lightly. I want to be here for you.”

“Mimi, honestly.” Her finger skates up along the cup of my bra. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I’m flattered by her insistence as well as turned on.

“Maybe,” Nora says, “I’m not the only one who needs to learn to let go.”

Maybe she has a point. Maybe we’re both control freaks in our own way.

“All right, well… If Nora Levine’s asking, who am I to say no?”

“That’s what I thought.”

Before she can kiss me, I ask, “I have a crucial question first.”

“Sure.” Nora kisses me on the cheek.

“Do you have any lube?” Of all the things to ask Nora Levine.

“I’m fifty-one,” she says. “I have a large supply of it.”

Now’s not the time to ask what she does with that large supply.

“Good.” I tilt her chin toward me and kiss her. Then I forget I ever wanted to have a conversation instead of doing this, instead of kissing her again, and of trying out Nora’s large supply of lube.

Nora’s lips drift to my neck, then find my ear. “You’re fucking spectacular, Mimi St James,” she whispers. Her hand snakes to my back. With one hand, she unclasps my bra—how on earth do you practice a skill like that? But I still have lots to learn about Nora.

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