Page 51 of Sex. Love. Marriage.

“What?” Kate bats her lashes at me. “That I’m dressed like a hooker?”

“No, I mean… you and Jason?”

“Not really. He’s so possessive. That’s part of the reason we got a divorce. He’s just a lot to handle in a marriage, and I like him way better now that we’re divorced. It, sort of, took the pressure off.” And then she stares at me as if she can read my thoughts and shakes her head. “Ido notthink that you and Noah should.”

I snort. “What do you mean?”

“This arrangement works for Jase and me, but you and Noah are different. You went through something traumatic and life-altering. We didn’t. We just couldn’t get our shit together. But you guys… Noah fucking adores you, girl. I see it in the way he watches you. He’d do anything for you.”

Again, I snort, tears threatening as I look at myself in the full-length mirror. Anything but let me in. “Too bad he won’t talk to me about it. He just avoids our problems like they’re not there in the first place.”

“He’s grieving, honey. In his own way.”

“I know he is, but he pushes me away in the process. The days after Mara died, he was a zombie. He said nothing, wouldn’t touch me, barely ate or slept, and then Finley was born and it only complicated everything else.”

Kate listens to everything I’m saying as she adjusts her garter and then stops and looks up at me. “I know it’s hard, but please believe me when I tell you that there’s something there worth saving.” She then slaps my ass, the sound resonating through my bathroom with a pop. “And this outfit is going to confirm that.”

I’d rather not look, but I examine my Halloween costume for the first time. It’s not lost on me that it’s the same mirror Noah broke less than a week ago, but I push those thoughts aside, not wanting to remember why he did it. “Moms shouldn’t be allowed to dress like this,” I say in embarrassment.

“Fuck that,” comes a deep grumble from behind, and I’m shocked to see Noah standing behind me, grinning. “Moms should always dress like that.”

Kate and I both jump and turn to face him. He doesn’t look at Kate, or anywhere else in the room. No, my husband’s eyes are glued to me and my leather jumpsuit, courtesy of Ashlynn. Apparently, she did a Halloween movie not too long ago, assured us nothing happened in or on the outfits, and supplied us all with naughty costumes. I could be wrong here, but judging by the expression on Noah’s face, he’s not disappointed.

We stare at one another, and my cheeks heat as if he’s seeing me naked. Which, let’s be honest, my costume leaves very little to the imagination.

Kate clears her throat. “I’ll be downstairs tending to the children,” she says with amusement. When she gets to the doorway Noah’s standing in, she whispers something in his ear. He smiles but doesn’t lift his eyes from mine.

When she’s out the door, Noah’s jaw tightens. I can’t tell… is he upset? Does he not want me wearing this?

My eyes drift from his arms, full of ink, veins, and muscles. He drinks me in from my breasts to my stomach, thighs clearly visible. As a slow smirk appears, he winks at me and crosses his arms over his chest. “Catwoman?”

I nod and lift the whip in my hand. “With props.”

“Nice,” he says, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip. I step toward him now, keeping a few inches between us. When I’m in front of him, I take the end of my whip and run it up the inside of his thigh.

Without breaking eye contact, I notice the hitch in his breathing, the rise of his chest, and the narrowing of his eyes. He swallows heavily and lets out a deep, shaky breath when I drop the whip and chew on my bottom lip.

Noah grabs hold of me quicker than I’m expecting and pushes me up against the sink, knocking over the makeup on the counter.

I don’t wait for him to say anything before I crash my lips to his.

His hands cup my face and his lips mold with mine, his breath ragged and uncontrolled. His fingers find their way to my hair where he tugs, arching my neck for him. He sucks on the hollow spot of my collarbone, groaning as he does it and pressing me further against the counter.

His erection presses into me, and before I know it, he’s grinding into me. “How easily does this come off?”

“Not easy,” I tell him, my own breathing ragged and out of control.

He tries and fails. “Jesus Christ, is it glued on?”

I laugh, trying to untangle myself from him. No way do we have time to be doing this, and the door isn’t locked.

As luck would have it, Sevi crawls into the room, points downstairs and barks.

Noah laughs. “What is it, boy? Did Johnny fall in the well?”

Sevi looks at him like he’s lost his mind, which could be argued on both sides here. Of course, Sevi doesn’t answer Noah either and crawls off while continuing to bark. Then we hear pounding, like someone is beating on the door.

Noah rolls his eyes. “I’m getting this off you by the end of the night.”

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