21. Blade #2
The house smells faintly like lavender detergent and baked food when I step through the doorway. Upstairs everything remains quiet enough that I assume Paxton’s asleep already.
Nora shuts the door behind me before rubbing one hand against her arm lightly. “I was about to pour wine and watch television in bed.”
“That sounds significantly better than my evening.”
A tiny smile pulls briefly at her mouth. “Do you want a glass too?”
“Sure.”
The kitchen lights glow softly over the island counter as she moves around familiar spaces with sleepy efficiency. I watch her pull down wine glasses from the cabinet before climbing onto one of the barstools barefoot.
“You’re lucky,” she says while pouring wine. “Paxton’s actually asleep in his own room tonight.”
“That’s progress.”
“It’s Lena’s fault.”
I accept the glass she slides toward me. “How so?”
“She started sleeping over occasionally and now apparently his room is less scary.” Nora shakes her head slightly. “I think he just likes knowing somebody else is nearby.”
I take a sip of wine before settling onto the stool across from her. For a little while the conversation stays easy, slower than most interactions we’ve had lately.
Nora talks about school first.
“Some parts are good,” she admits while tracing one finger around the stem of her wine glass. “Some parts are frustrating.”
“Communication?”
“Mostly.” She sighs softly. “The teachers try, but nobody besides Lena actually signs. So Paxton spends a lot of time waiting for translations or missing side conversations completely.”
“That’s hard.”
“He still wants to go every morning though.” Her mouth softens slightly. “Mostly because Lena’s there.”
I nod once.
“She helps him a lot,” I say.
“She really does.” Nora glances down into her wine for a second before continuing quieter. “I didn’t realize how isolated he’d gotten before this.”
Neither did I, but I don’t say it aloud.
Instead I ask, “How are you doing with all of it?”
That question makes her laugh quietly under her breath.
“Honestly?”
“Usually preferred.”
Nora takes another sip before leaning back slightly in the stool. “I think I’m afraid to get comfortable.”
I stay quiet.
She stares toward the kitchen window now instead of me. “Things have been… good lately. Better than they’ve been in a long time.” Her fingers tighten slightly around the glass. “And historically that means something terrible’s about to happen afterward.”
The honesty in that settles heavily between us.
“You don’t trust stability yet,” I say gently.
She snorts softly. “Do you?”
Fair point.
Outside wind brushes faintly against the windows while the house settles quietly around us.
The longer we sit there talking, the more Nora visibly relaxes.
Shoulders lowering slowly. Legs tucking beneath herself against the stool.
Sleepiness softening some of the constant guardedness she normally carries.
I mostly listen.
She talks about paint colors Paxton changed his mind about twice already. About Lena insisting their blanket forts require architectural planning now. About accidentally burning toast that morning, all because she got distracted watching the kids argue over cartoons in sign.
Small things.
Normal things.
And somewhere during the second glass of wine the intimacy shifts quietly into something heavier. Nora looks at me differently now than she did weeks ago. Less wary. More searching. Like she’s trying to understand why being around us feels easier instead of harder.
“You look tired,” she says eventually.
“I am.”
“You should probably sleep before driving to Los Angeles.”
“I’ll sleep in shifts.”
“That sounds unhealthy.”
“It’s temporary.”
She studies me silently for another second before asking softer, “Is it hard doing your job?”
There’s no good answer to that, so I settle for honesty without specifics.
“Sometimes.”
Her mouth tightens slightly.
I reach across the island before really thinking about it, fingers brushing lightly against the back of her hand. She doesn’t pull away.
“You don’t need to worry tonight.”
“That sounds suspiciously like something people say right before giving someone a reason to worry.”
I smile slightly. “Not this time, angel.”
Silence stretches again afterward, but not awkwardly.
Nora’s eyes drift briefly toward my mouth before flicking away again fast enough that she probably hopes I missed it. I didn’t. Neither of us moves immediately.
Eventually, she exhales quietly before standing from the stool. “I should probably go to bed.”
“Probably.”
But neither of us heads for the door. Instead, she moves closer, slowly enough that she could stop it if she wanted to. Her fingers brush lightly against my chest first before sliding up to the back of my neck. There’s still hesitation in the movement.
“I’m trying very hard not to overthink everything lately,” she admits quietly.
“How’s that going?”
“Terribly.”
I laugh softly, once before touching her waist carefully. “You don’t have to figure everything out tonight.”
“I know.”
“So do what you want to right now, and don’t worry about tomorrow.”
“If you say so.”
Then she kisses me slowly and sleepily, with nothing rushed or uncertain about it.
The kiss deepens naturally after that, familiar warmth building between us while the kitchen fades quieter around the edges.
My hand settles more firmly against her hip while hers tighten lightly at the back of my neck.
Nora presses closer first. That affects me more than it should.
Eventually, she pulls back just enough to murmur, “Bedroom?”
I nod once.
Upstairs the house stays dark and quiet except for the soft hum of Paxton’s sound machine drifting faintly down the hallway from his room. Nora leads me into the master bedroom before closing the door carefully behind us.
The room smells faintly of laundry detergent and her shampoo, comfortable and lived in in a way that settles something restless inside me almost immediately. Nora climbs onto the bed first while I follow more slowly, careful to give her enough room to change her mind if she wants to.
The mattress dips beneath my weight while soft lamplight spills across the sheets and her bare legs tangled beneath the blankets.
She doesn’t pull away though. Instead, she reaches for me again, fingers sliding against my jaw before drawing me closer.
The intimacy between us feels slow and grounding.
Intentional in a way that makes this feel less like reckless attraction and more like trust unfolding carefully between us piece by piece.
Nora kisses like she’s gradually letting herself unclench piece by piece. Every touch careful at first before slowly turning more certain the longer I hold her.
I brush hair back from her face gently while she settles closer against me beneath the blankets.
“You still overthinking?” I murmur quietly.
“Probably.”
“Little less though?”
Her mouth curves faintly against mine. “Maybe.”
I kiss her again slowly before sliding my hand along her waist beneath the oversized shirt.
Her skin is warm and impossibly soft against my palm. Nora sighs softly as I trace patterns lightly against her hip while her fingers flex lightly against my shoulders.
“Blade…” she murmurs softly.
“Right here, angel.”
She shifts against me restlessly as I gradually deepen the kiss, tongue sliding against hers while my other hand traces along her spine.
Nora makes a soft sound in her throat then, something small and wanting, that makes my cock harden instantly.
I keep the pace slow though, giving her every chance to adjust to each new touch without rushing her past comfort.
My fingers drift lower, brushing against the edge of her panties before pausing to let her set the pace.
Nora presses her hips forward in silent invitation, so I touch her carefully through the fabric first. Her breath hitches softly as I circle her clit slowly, teasingly, until her hips begin to shift restlessly against my hand.
That’s when I finally slide my fingers beneath the fabric to touch her bare skin.
She’s already wet and warm and ready, but I take my time anyway, learning her reactions carefully as I explore her slowly.
Nora gasps softly when I find just the right spot, hips rolling forward in a silent plea for more friction.
I give her what she wants gradually, increasing pressure until she’s clutching at my shoulders and panting softly against my neck.
“You like that, angel?”
She whimpers softly against my skin in response, which is answer enough. I keep touching her, watching her face carefully as pleasure builds gradually inside her. Her cheeks flush pink, lips parted slightly while her breathing turns ragged.
That’s when I shift downward in the bed, kissing a path down her body slowly. Nora makes a soft sound of protest when my fingers leave her clit, but it dissolves into a sharp gasp as I kiss her stomach, her hips, her inner thighs.
Then I finally settle between her legs, lifting them over my shoulders while she watches me through heavily-lidded eyes.
“Blade—”
I press a soft kiss against her pussy lips before dragging my tongue slowly upward. Her hips jerk sharply at the contact. I hold her firmly, keeping her steady as I begin to taste her properly, licking and sucking gently until her thighs begin to tremble around my head.
“Don’t stop,” she gasps out, fingers twisting in the sheets. “Please don’t stop…”
I don’t. Instead I focus entirely on her pleasure, alternating between firm pressure against her clit and soft, teasing licks. Nora grows increasingly vocal, her hips rolling rhythmically now as she chases the pleasure I’m giving her.
“Just like that, angel,” I murmur against her, feeling her body tighten gradually. “Let go for me.”
Her back arches sharply as the orgasm finally crashes through her. I don’t let up, licking her through it until she collapses back against the bed, panting and trembling.