Page 79 of Breadwinner
“Cribbage?” she asked, two glasses of bourbon in hand as she joined Sarah on the massive faux-fur throw she had laid out on the floor in front of the fire.
“Yeah. Don’t knock it,” Sarah said, plopping herself down on the floor across from Nell and crossing her legs. “I’ll go easy on you for your first time playing me.”
“Bold of you to assume I’d need a competitive advantage.” Nell smirked as she shifted to face Sarah. “Did you ever consider that I might have to goeasyon you?”
“Only one way to find out.” Sarah shook the box in her hands gingerly.
So they played. And played. And played. Somehow, one drink turned into two, and every so often, one of them would get up and add another log to the fire crackling next to them. They eventually abandoned the game as the two of them meandered their way through thought after thought, talking.
It was nonsensical and illogical, but it worked, and Nell found herself craving more. This comfort between them wasn’t new, but tonight, it felt different to her. Tonight, it was tender and exposed in a way that completely disarmed her.
Sarah was sitting up now, leaning back on her hands, face glowing in the golden light from the fire. “I know you were feeling like this weekend hasn’t been perfect.” Her voice was soft, so soft, making her lean in closer. “But it has been. It’s been absolutely perfect, and I really needed this. This time with just... you.”
Caught off guard, Nell tore her eyes from where they had been lingering on Sarah’s lips to meet her gaze. “Why are you always saying things like that?” she asked quietly.
Sarah didn’t flinch. “Because I always mean them.”
Nell dropped her gaze to the cribbage board still set up between them, and then to Sarah’s hand, where it rested so close to her own. It would take minimal effort on her part to reach out and take her hand and tell Sarah what she so clearly wanted to hear from her. But, frozen to the spot, Nell didn’t move.
“I don’t know what this is,” Nell admitted, her voice lost beneath the crackling of the fire. “Our arrangement...” Sarah shifted, leaning closer to her, making her heart beat faster.
“It doesn’t have to be anything more than this. Right now, we’re just us.”
Nell let out a slow breath, her chest dropping with the weight of her exhale. “I was right about you,” she whispered, while Sarah inched closer to her still. “I knew you were going to be dangerous.”
“I’m not dangerous. I’m just honest.”
Nell reached forward and brushed honey-brown hair from Sarah’s face, letting her fingers linger a moment to memorize the exact slope of Sarah’s cheekbone and the way it felt cradled in her hand before she pulled Sarah’s lips to hers.
This kiss was unlike all their others. It was delicate. Gentle. Unhurried. It asked questions she didn’t have answers for—questions Sarah answered by leaning in and kissing her again, deeper this time, running her tongue along the inside of her lip as her hands found Nell’s waist, sliding under the hem of her sweater.
She hadn’t given Sarah permission to touch her.
Sarah knew the rules.
But Nell didn’t care.
She wanted to feel as much of Sarah as she could as she melted into her touch. The fire popped beside them, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away. It was only the two of them now.
Something hard cut into her knee—the cribbage board. She quickly nudged it out of the way, sending pieces scattering across the rug. Nell pulled away, her whispered demand dripping with need. “Tell me what you want.”
Sarah looked at her with rosy cheeks and eyes so dark with a type of desire Nell had never encountered before.
“You,” Sarah said simply, reaching out for a fistful of Nell’s sweater, pulling her down on top of her until their bodies pressed together.
She used her knee to part Sarah’s legs, pressing her thigh against her, groaning at the heat radiating from Sarah. Her fingers found Sarah’s hair as she placed kisses along her perfect jawline, taking her bottom lip between her teeth, biting softly, drowning in the noise Sarah made.
Sarah moaned into her ear, sending a shiver through her as she cupped her ass, pulling her closer.
But something stopped Nell. She rocked back onto her knees, extracting herself from Sarah, looking down at her—sprawled across the blanket in front of the fire, breathing heavily as she looked back at her with inquisitive eyes—and it was like she was seeing Sarah for the first time again. The quiet power she always carried that she never quite seemed to be aware of. The intensity of her mind and the pure goodness of her heart all on full display. It was enough to make Nell second-guess the rules she had so carefully crafted for herself to live by.
“What is it?” Sarah asked, reaching up to skim her fingers along Nell’s cheek. Nell let herself lean into the touch for just a moment.
“It’s nothing. Silly, really.” She tried to brush off her hesitation. “Just suddenly feeling a little nervous.”
“You? Nervous?” Sarah joked, before her face fell flat with the realization that she wasn’t kidding. She reached for her hand. “This is just like all the times before. Just you and me, right here and now. Just us.”
Her words echoed in the space between them, and Nell nodded slowly. “Just us,” she repeated.