Chapter 23: The Unbearable Wait
The door clicked shut, sealing us in. Chloe stood in the foyer, a splash of yellow cotton sundress against the dim hallway. She held a bottle of wine like a shield.“Hey,” she said, her voice too bright.
“Chloe, sweetheart.” Nora flowed forward, took the bottle, and kissed Chloe’s cheek. Her lips lingered a fraction too long. “So glad you could come back.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” Chloe said, her eyes darting past Nora to where I stood at the foot of the stairs. I managed a weak smile.It felt like a grimace.
Nora slipped an arm around Chloe’s waist, guiding her toward the living room. “Ethan, be a darling and get us some glasses? The good ones, please.”
I moved to the kitchen on autopilot, my hands cold and clumsy.The crystal glasses clinked together as I pulled them from the cabinet. From the other room, I heard the low murmur of their voices, Nora’s a soothing melody, Chloe’s a staccato response.When I returned, they were on the couch. Not where I’d been sitting earlier, but in the center, facing each other. Chloe perched on the edge, knees together. Nora was a study in relaxed grace, one leg folded beneath her, the dark blue silk of her robe pooling around her.I handed Nora the glasses.Our fingers brushed. A spark of static, or awareness.Her eyes met mine, held, then dismissed me. “Why don’t you sit there, Ethan?” She nodded toward the armchair opposite the couch. A spectator’s seat.I sank into the stiff leather.It was cold.I was sweating.
Nora poured the wine, a deep red that looked black in the low light of the single lamp. She handed a glass to Chloe.“To new friends,” she said, clinking her glass against Chloe’s.
Chloe took a nervous sip. “It’s really good.”
“It’s from a vineyard David and I visited in Napa.” Nora’s voice was warm, conversational. “He prefers bold reds. I find them… overpowering sometimes.” She took a slow drink, her eyes watching Chloe over the rim. “But some things are worth the intensity.”
She set her glass down.The lamp light cast soft shadows across her face, glinting in her hair. “You know, I was looking at you last night, Chloe.You have the most beautiful skin. Like porcelain.”
Chloe blushed, a faint pink rising on her neck.“Oh. Thanks.”
“No, really.” Nora shifted closer on the couch.The movement was casual, fluid. “And your hair.” She reached out, her fingers barely touching a loose curl beside Chloe’s ear. “This color.It’s like caramel.”
Chloe’s breath hitched. She didn’t pull away.Her eyes, wide and unsure, flicked to me. I sat frozen, my hands gripping the armrests.Don’t speak.Don’t move.
Nora’s fingers trailed from Chloe’s hair down to her jawline, a feather-light touch. “You’re just stunning.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, intimate, just for the two of them. “Does Ethan tell you that?”
Chloe’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She shook her head slightly, a tiny, bewildered movement.
“He should.” Nora’s hand slid down, her thumb stroking the column of Chloe’s throat. She could feel the pulse there, just as she’d felt mine. “He doesn’t appreciate what he has.”
My own pulse was a frantic drum against my ribs. I was trapped in the chair, a knot of heat and nausea tightening in my gut. I watched Nora’s hand, hypnotized by its slow, possessive journey.Nora’s other hand came up, cradling Chloe’s face. “Relax,” she murmured. “It’s just us.”
Chloe’s eyes fluttered closed. A small, helpless sound escaped her lips as Nora leaned in and pressed her mouth to Chloe’s.It wasn’t a peck.It was deep, slow, explorative. Chloe went rigid for a second, then melted, a soft moan vibrating in her throat. Her hand came up, trembling, to rest on Nora’s wrist, not pushing her away, but holding on.Nora pulled back, just an inch.Her lips were glistening. She glanced at me.A quick, sharp cut of her eyes.See?Her smirk was a razor edge. Then she turned back to Chloe, who was breathing heavily, her lips parted.
“See?” Nora whispered, her voice like smoke. “You can feel it, can’t you?”
Chloe, dazed, nodded.
Nora’s hand drifted from Chloe’s neck, over her shoulder, down her arm.She traced the strap of the sundress. Her fingers slipped beneath the thin cotton, onto the bare skin of Chloe’s shoulder.Chloe shuddered.
“You’re so warm,” Nora murmured. Her hand slid lower, over the front of Chloe’s dress, palm cupping the swell of her breast. Chloe gasped, her back arching off the couch cushions, pushing herself into Nora’s touch.The sound was a bolt of lightning through me. My jeans were too tight, the fabric rough and unbearable.I couldn’t look away. Chloe’s face was a mask of stunned pleasure, her brow slightly furrowed, her mouth slack. Nora’s hand moved under the dress, and I saw the outline of her fingers kneading, circling. Chloe’s head fell back, a low whimper breaking from her.
Nora watched her own hand work under the yellow cotton.Then her eyes lifted and locked onto mine. Her expression was calm, focused, utterly in control. She held my gaze as she lowered her mouth to Chloe’s neck, sucking gently.Chloe cried out, her fingers tangling in Nora’s blonde hair.
The room dissolved into a haze of sound: ragged breathing, wet kisses, the soft rustle of fabric. The lavender and whiskey scent was suffocating, mingled now with a sharper, salty smell of arousal. My vision tunnelled. There was only the couch, the two figures merging, Nora’s dark robe against Chloe’s bright dress, the sinful, rhythmic motion of Nora’s hidden hand.
Chloe was moving against her now, small, frantic hips rocking into nothing. “Please,” she choked, the word slurred and desperate.Nora smiled against her skin. She slowed her movements, became teasing, light.She was drawing it out.For her.For me.
With deliberate slowness, Nora withdrew her hand from under Chloe’s dress. Chloe groaned in protest, her eyes flying open, blurry with need.
“Shhh,” Nora soothed, placing her damp fingers on Chloe’s lips.Chloe kissed them, her tongue darting out instinctively. “Good girl.”
Then Nora stood up. She looked down at Chloe, who was sprawled on the couch, wrecked and trembling.Then she looked at me.Her robe was hanging completely open now. She made no move to close it.“Ethan,” she said, her voice perfectly steady. “Walk Chloe to the door.”
Chloe blinked, slowly coming back to herself. Her eyes found mine, flooded with a confusion that was edging into horror. She scrambled to sit up, pulling her dress strap back onto her shoulder, her face burning with a deep, shameful crimson.I stood up. My legs almost buckled.I didn’t look at Chloe as I walked to the foyer. I heard her stumble off the couch, her footsteps hurried and unsteady behind me.
At the front door, she finally spoke, her voice a thin, broken thread. “Ethan… what… what was that?”
I opened the door. The cool night air rushed in, a shocking contrast to the thick heat of the house.I couldn’t answer her.I just stared at the darkened porch.
She hesitated, tears welling in her eyes. Then she hugged her arms around herself and walked out into the night, her yellow dress a fading smudge in the gloom.I closed the door. The lock engaged with a heavy, final sound.
The living room light seemed brighter now, harsher.Nora was still standing by the couch.She had tied her robe shut. She was holding her wine glass, sipping from it as she examined me.“You watched,” she stated.
I nodded, my throat sealed shut.She placed the glass down and walked toward me. Each step was measured, silent on the rug.She stopped inches away. The scent of Chloe was on her, mixed with her own.“You didn’t touch yourself,” she said, her eyes searching mine. “You obeyed.”
Another nod.A tremor ran through my hands.
She reached out and cupped my face.Her palm was still warm from Chloe’s skin. “Your turn tomorrow,” she whispered, her thumb tracing my lower lip. Then she dropped her hand and walked past me, toward the stairs, leaving me alone in the silent, charged darkness.