Chapter Twenty.

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Songs for this chapter are:

What a Feeling- One Direction

What Do You Mean- Justin Bieber

Show Me Love- Sam Feldt ft Kimberly Anne

...


Of course Nora was right and her cabbage was delicious. It didn't taste anything like my mom's smelly cabbage rolls. Nora sat perched up on the counter and fed me bite after bite. It tasted like garlic and salt and she kissed my lips after each bite I took, so I ate the entire pan.

"I told you it was good," she says, squirting soap onto the pan she cooked it on. I watch her clean the dishes and wonder if I should offer to help.

I probably should. "Can I help you?" I ask and she turns to me, half surprised, half smiling like I just offered a fluffy white puppy.

"Let me get this straight," Nora licks her lips and I walk closer to her. "You not only have the tongue of a saint, the body of a God, and the brain of a philosopher, you also help wash dishes?"

Something pulls at my chest with each word of praise that escapes from her lips.

Her expression is one of amusement and I love the way her unguarded smile hangs from her lips. Just like the way I love the way my briefs hang low on her hips. My shirt doesn't swallow her, the fabric is somewhat tight against her chest and hips, but loose on the arms. Now my shirt will smell like her. Good thing I barely do laundry. I'll never have to wash it again. Okay maybe not never again, but not any time soon.

I stand behind her as she pretends to wash the same pan that has been in her hands for two minutes now. What is she daydreaming about? Me helping her with dishes? Is it that simple to climb into her heart? I hope so.

I finally answer her. "That I do, little lady."

Her long fingers hold onto the sponge and she dips it back into the soapy water beneath. "Again with the little lady?" She tilts her head slightly, exposing her neck. I can't tell if she's purposely encouraging my need for her, or if her body is calling to me without intention. Either way, I'm a lucky s-o-b. "I'm older than you," she adds.

I laugh under my breath and I watch small bumps grow on her neck. Did I cause that? Holy shit, I think I did? I wrap my arms around her waist and she leans back into me, her bare neck calling my name. I kiss her there, just above the curve of her throat.

"I'm bigger than you," I breathe into her neck and kiss her again. My tongue swipes over her warm skin and she groans, breathless. My hands move to her hips and I give her a light squeeze.

"Bigger, are you?" Her voice is small and gruff. Nora pushes back, her ass pressing against me.

"I am," my hands travel to her breasts and I rub them softly, gently kneading her flesh. When my fingers find her nipples, only covered by the thin fabric of my cotton t-shirt, my fingers tug at them, feeling them harden under my thumb. I tweak them, with each pinch my touch grows stronger, her moans transform into mewls, her whining gasps make me throb for her.

Her unmoving hands are still in the water and I move one hand down to her stomach. I stop there, unsure how far to take it. As if she can hear my thoughts, she turns her face to look at me but keeps her back against my front. "You can be whoever you want with me, remember?"

I can be who I want to be with her. No pressure, no worrying about whether I sound cool or lame, or strong or weak. I don't have to push through the fields of doubt in my mind, I don't have to question every single thing I say or do. With her, there is a silence I've never known.

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