Chapter 8 #3
There was something about seeing Sarah there, out of context, that she couldn’t stop thinking about. Something she couldn’t let go of. It was how Sarah had seemed smaller around her family. It didn’t sit well with Nell.
Sarah could command a table full of executives with one pointed question.
She had a presence that burned so brightly it forced people to look at her, and a natural curiosity that crackled like a live wire.
Sarah, who had once confessed—with her back arched and her lips parted—that being seen by Nell made her feel powerful.
That Sarah had been reduced to someone careful and mild and quietly resigned. That was not her Sarah.
She understood, to some extent, that Sarah played nice for the sake of family, but shrinking herself to do so wasn’t the answer. She hated that there were still people who knew Sarah’s brilliance and, instead of watching in awe, looked right past her.
For someone who prided herself on her ability to compartmentalize, Nell couldn’t seem to file that thought away. Couldn’t shelve it alongside the other things she kept from spilling over the edges of her life.
She tapped her pen once, then twice, before closing the lid of her laptop and reaching for her phone.
Sarah picked up on the second ring. “Nell?”
“How soon can you get to my hotel?” Nell asked, startled at the impulsiveness of her question.
There was a pause.
“In about an hour, give or take, depending on traffic and the ferry.”
Nell nodded, even though Sarah couldn’t see her. “I’ll be waiting.”
It was ridiculous how much she could feel each and every minute in the hour that passed as she waited for Sarah to arrive.
She told herself that the phone call had been nothing more than regaining control, an attempt to re-center their arrangement.
But she also knew, deep down, that something about seeing Sarah like that—a shrunken version of herself—had left Nell off balance.
She wanted to see the fire again, the edge.
The woman who challenged her, who disarmed her, who never let her get too comfortable in her certainty.
So she waited.
Then came the knock. Barely more than a brush of knuckles against wood, but Nell heard it like thunder.
When she opened the door, Sarah was standing there, wind-tousled hair, fiery-eyed, and gorgeous, smelling like rain and pine. Her arms were crossed, sweater sleeves pushed to her elbows, keys still in her hand like she hadn’t decided whether she was staying.
“You called. That’s a first.” A certain snark attached itself to Sarah’s words, accompanied by that devastating smile that made Nell forget why she had even called Sarah in the first place.
This was her Sarah standing in front of her now. She could feel the heat in her presence.
Nell swallowed. “I know.”
Sarah stepped further into the room, her eyes scanning her, studying her intently. “Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know,” Nell said, again more honest than she intended. “I couldn’t focus today. Not after the spa.”
Sarah nodded like she understood, though her brows pinched slightly. “You mean after you ran into me?”
Nell didn’t look away. “That wasn’t it.”
“Then what was it?” Sarah crossed her arms lightly over her chest.
Nell noted the defensive posture. “You,” she said.
“Me?”
“You were small, with your family and around Beth. You shrank in a way that didn’t fit you. I’ve never seen you do that,” Nell said, still trying to make sense of it all.
Sarah’s lips parted, surprise flashing across her expression before she caught it. She tilted her head. “You called me all the way out here to tell me I was small?”
“No,” Nell said. “I called you because I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Because that’s not who you are. You’re not someone who fades into the background, Sarah.
You fill a room. You spark. You ignite. You’re someone who has the power to set the world on fire.
I didn’t like seeing you dull yourself to make other people more comfortable. ”
Heat coursed through her as she spoke, and when she was finished, silence hung between them, weighted by her words.
“Okay,” Sarah said, after a moment, uncrossing her arms. “That was a lot to receive.” She shifted, and Nell watched as her mind worked to formulate her next thought. “I can see where you may have a point.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, twisting it into a knot before letting it fall over her shoulders, then sighing, sliding her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. The smile she offered felt more like a white flag, a sign of defeat.
“I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s easier this way,” Sarah said at last. “When Beth told me about her relationship with Jamie, I made a choice—to box myself in to keep my family intact. They are the most important thing to me. So I play the role of the calm, collected, supportive coparent. Pretend to be thrilled for Beth while it’s slowly eating me alive. ”
That weak smile was back, and she wanted so badly to reach out, to reassure Sarah that she didn’t ever need to do that—to put herself in a box for someone else’s comfort.
She stepped closer to her. “Your thought process makes sense,” she said smoothly, circling Sarah, who remained completely still.
“But you made one mistake,” she hissed in her ear, enjoying the way the little hairs on the back of her neck rose in anticipation.
“And what would that be?”
Nell passed behind Sarah as she leaned in, lips barely brushing her ear as she said, “You gave away all your power.”
Sarah turned to look at her for a long moment. Then, softer than before, she said, “Why do you care?”
The question landed, kicking off a barrage of thoughts. Because I like watching you shine. Because I feel more alive when you’re fully yourself. Because I would stop whatever I’m doing the moment you needed something. Because your power excites me. But she didn’t say any of that.
“Because you’re too good at playing other people’s games, and I don’t want you to lose your own.”
Sarah took a single step closer. “I’m not in the habit of losing games.”
Nell moved past Sarah to the bar, pouring herself two fingers of bourbon. Sarah never took those sparkling hazel eyes off her, and Nell delighted in the way they dropped not so subtly to her lips as she took a sip of her drink, savoring the moment.
“Come here,” Nell directed in a low voice, curling her index finger deliberately.
Sarah stepped closer at her command until they stood face-to-face. She drank every inch of Sarah the same way she drank her bourbon: unhurried, feeling the burn of her presence.
“On your knees,” she hissed.
There was a microsecond of hesitation reflected in Sarah’s eyes, the tiniest hint of defiance. For a moment, Nell wondered if she’d finally found the limit to the amount of power Sarah was willing to give her. Her brows twitched like she was about to question the command, maybe even challenge it.
Nell raised one brow expectantly, tilting her head ever so slightly as if to say, I’m waiting.
Sarah’s breath caught, and it took every ounce of restraint for Nell not to give in to her own reactions. She watched Sarah’s expression shift as she made peace with her decision before sinking to her knees in one smooth, quiet movement.
Nell let the silence stretch. Let Sarah sit in it as she stepped forward, close enough that her thighs brushed against Sarah. With exquisite care, she reached down, tilting Sarah’s chin up between her fingers.
“I saw you before I ever met you,” Nell said, the steeliness of her voice surprising to her own ears. “You were standing across the room at that tech summit last spring, before the Empwr launch party. You weren’t even on my radar, but you were the only one I couldn’t stop watching that day.”
Sarah’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t look away.
“I watched you,” Nell continued. “The way you carried yourself. The way people turned to listen when you spoke. You didn’t even notice how you took up space. How commanding your presence was. But I did.”
She dragged her thumb lightly along Sarah’s bottom lip, watching it part instinctively. Heat and want spread through her.
“That bigness is what drew me in. What still draws me in. So, no.” She couldn’t help her grin.
“I don’t want you small, Sarah. Not ever.
Not for your family, not for Beth, not even for me.
” She dropped her hand slowly, hoping Sarah ached for the absence of its weight.
“I want to watch you claim your power,” she crooned.
“Right now. I want to watch you take all that power of yours and turn it inward.” Sarah blinked.
The shift in her breath sent Nell into overdrive.
She stepped back, just enough to give Sarah space before offering her hand and pulling her to her feet. Sarah’s eyes searched hers for meaning.
“Touch yourself. Show me how powerful you are.” She sank into the armchair, swirling her glass, amber liquid twirling as Sarah stared at her. Waiting for more. “Go on,” she said lightly. “Put on a show for me.”
She never took her eyes off Sarah, who was still rooted to the spot she had left her in, still deciding what to do next.
Nell pointed to the couch directly across from her. “Sit there.”
Sarah moved with excruciatingly measured steps as she crossed the space, having clearly made up her mind.
Hazel eyes stayed locked with hers as Sarah reached for the button of her jeans, popping it open in one small motion.
She shimmied slightly, and Nell’s mouth went dry as Sarah pushed the fabric of her jeans and underwear down over her hips, revealing toned thighs.
The bite of bourbon burned her tongue as Sarah lowered herself onto the couch and settled back against the cushions.
Nell uncrossed her legs, feeling the heat of her anticipation as she leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on her thighs, bourbon glass loose in her hand.
“Good,” she said, that tiny thrill shooting through her as Sarah straightened under the weight of that single word. The power praise had over Sarah electrified her. “Now spread your legs. I want to see all of you.”
Sarah inhaled deeply, but obeyed, parting her thighs enough to make it clear she was listening. Nell’s eyes tracked the movement like a slow drag of flame.
“Not quite what I meant, but I can see you’re trying.” She sipped her bourbon, savoring the heat, before letting the glass rest against her bottom lip. “Touch yourself like you’re alone. Like you’re the only one in the room. And remember—keep those beautiful eyes on me. Don’t you dare look away.”
Sarah wavered a moment, then nodded, her chin high, gaze steady as she began to move her hand.
She slipped one hand between her thighs, her fingers disappearing from view.
Her other hand braced gently against the couch cushion beside her.
Sarah’s lips barely parted as she began, eyes never leaving hers.
Nell didn’t dare blink, watching in awe as Sarah showed her exactly how she liked to be touched.
Sarah started gradually, with a careful swipe of her fingertips, legs spreading further, allowing her more access.
Nell watched Sarah’s fingers glide through her glistening folds, mesmerized by the faint sheen of her arousal from the lazy circles she was drawing around her clit.
And when she moaned—that low, animalistic, guttural moan that came from deep in the back of her throat, and the way her breath caught, then stuttered free with each pass of her fingers, lashes fluttering—Nell could have died right there.
“God, you’re beautiful like this,” she murmured, her voice a low burn of reverence accompanied the last of her restraint.
Every fiber of her ached to drop to her knees, to take Sarah apart with her mouth, but she held back.
This wasn’t about surrendering to her own desire.
This was about letting Sarah blaze in her own light.
Sarah’s cheeks flushed as her breathing quickened, her fingers picking up their pace, and still, she didn’t look away.
Nell leaned back, her free hand resting loosely on her thigh, gaze never straying.
She drank in the picture before her, not only the physicality of it, but the deeper thing: the trust, the vulnerability this request required.
Sarah wasn’t just obeying her—she was choosing to bare herself like this for her.
“It feels so good, doesn’t it?” Nell said softly. “To own your desire like this.”
Sarah’s breath hitched, her body giving away her answer before she could form the words.
“Y-yes,” she managed through labored breathing, her hips shifting slightly, movements becoming more desperate. Nell’s own body responded in kind, the burning pull low in her belly more intense than ever.
When Sarah’s breathing began to stutter—when the lines of tension in her thighs went taut, when the sounds leaving her mouth became fragile, uneven things—Nell rose, unable to hold herself back any longer.
Within a single breath, she crossed the room and was on her knees in front of Sarah, running her hands up and down those perfect thighs, pushing them further apart, burying herself between them.
The scent of Sarah’s arousal was everything to her as she hooked her arms up and under the back of Sarah’s thighs, pulling her closer to the edge of the couch.
“Oh God,” Sarah gasped, as Nell lowered her mouth, meeting her heat with purpose, the sweet tang of Sarah coating her tongue.
She moaned against Sarah, moving her tongue in languid circles, mimicking the movements she had watched Sarah perform moments before. There was no teasing this time. No dragging things out. She had already done enough of that. Sarah had done everything she had asked.
“Nell, please,” Sarah begged.
She looked up at Sarah and groaned at the sight of her, eyes glazed over, heavy-lidded with want as she bit at her lip, waiting for Nell.
She took Sarah apart with devastating precision, with Sarah’s hand tangled in her hair, her body trembling as she came in Nell’s mouth.
The tension snapped like a thread, pleasure rippling through Sarah in waves as Nell gripped her thighs, holding her in place, holding her through all of it, letting her be loud and letting her take up all the space she needed.
When it was over, Sarah sank back against the cushions, breathless and dazed, one hand still loosely curled in Nell’s hair.
Nell lifted her head slowly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she looked up at her.
“I never want to see you make yourself small for anyone ever again,” she said quietly, gently pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “You are Sarah fucking Gallagher. Remember that.”