Simone came with a shudder, her thighs clamping around Alexandra’s head, a low cry escaping that echoed in Alexandra’s chest. She rode it out, not stopping until Simone’s body went slack, trembling. Only then did Alexandra lift her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, meeting Simone’s eyes. They were hazy and unguarded now. That look hit her like a wave, the recognition mirroring her own exhaustion as the day’s armor had been stripped away. Neither spoke. Alexandra simply rose, extending a hand, and Simone took it, standing on unsteady legs. Her blouse hung open, her skirt already discardedon the floor, but she didn’t move to cover herself. Alexandra led her from the sitting room through the shadowed hallway, the house’s silence wrapping around them like a secret.
The bedroom door clicked shut behind them, the space vast with its king-sized bed draped in dark linens, moonlight filtering through the curtains. Alexandra turned, pulling Simone close again, her hands roaming to strip off her own shirt and bra. Simone joined in, her nimble fingers deftly unbuttoning her blouse fully, then tugging down her pants and underwear in one smooth motion. Naked now and skin to skin, Alexandra pushed Simone toward the bed, following her down onto the cool sheets. Their mouths collided in a kiss that tasted of Simone’s release, their hands groping freely as Alexandra cupped Simone’s ass, pulling her thigh between her legs, and Simone’s nails raking lightly down her back.
Simone flipped them with a sudden surge, pinning Alexandra beneath her, but it wasn’t the same dominance from other encounters, just mutual desire. Simone’s hand slid between Alexandra’s thighs, her fingers finding her soaked pussy, stroking the length of her slit before pushing two inside. Alexandra arched as Simone filled her, a moan slipping out and her body responding before her mind could catch up to the sensation. Simone’s touch was sure and competent. Her thumb circled Alexandra’s clit as her fingers thrust deep, and Alexandra gripped her shoulders, biting at her lip to stifle the sounds building in her throat.
But Alexandra didn’t yield fully. She reached up, hand wrapping around Simone’s throat with just enough pressure to feel her pulse jump. Simone’s eyes flashed, but Alexandra leaned into the touch, her own hand tightening on Simone’s hip. The reciprocity sent heat flooding through Alexandra, her hips bucking against Simone’s fingers.
“Simone,” she whispered, but the name was swallowed when Simone kissed her roughly in response, biting down on Alexandra’s lower lip as she added a third finger, stretching her.
The bed creaked under them as Alexandra’s free hand groped Simone’s breast, pinching the nipple hard enough to draw out a hiss, then soothed it with her mouth. Simone pulled her fingers free, trailing wetness up Alexandra’s stomach before shifting down. Her mouth followed, kissing the inside of Alexandra’s thigh, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. When her tongue finally met Alexandra’s pussy, it was with that same intensity Alexandra remembered from before. Simone licked her slowly, parting the folds and sucking on her clit with a rhythm that made Alexandra’s toes curl.
Alexandra’s hand stayed at Simone’s throat, the light pressure guiding her closer, and Simone let out a muffled sound against her, the vibration pushing Alexandra closer to the edge. She thrust her hips up, fucking Simone’s mouth, her fingers tangling in her hair. The pleasure built sharp and unrelenting, coiling tight in her core. Simone’s fingers joined her tongue, two sliding in deep and curling against her G-spot while her lips worked the clit. Alexandra’s breath came in pants, her grip tightening on Simone’s throat just enough to feel the swallow. She relished in Simone’s trust.
The orgasm hit her like a slow burn, ripping through her body in waves, her pussy clenching around Simone’s fingers as she cried out, a raw and unfiltered sound that filled the room. Simone didn’t stop, instead drawing it out until Alexandra was shaking, oversensitive, and spent. She pulled Simone up, kissing her fiercely and tasting herself on Simone’s lips. Their bodies aligned, their legs tangling and hands roaming in the aftermath—groping breasts, thighs, asses with no urgency but also no particular rush to end it.
Simone’s hands slipped between their bodies again, her fingers finding Alexandra’s still-throbbing clit and rubbing slow circles as Alexandra did the same, stroking Simone back to peaked arousal. Alexandra nipped at Simone’s collarbone, and Simone sucked a mark on Alexandra’s neck. Alexandra’s fingers plunged inside Simone again, thrusting lazily while her thumb pressed against her clit. Simone mirrored it, their rhythms slowly syncing. Simone brought up her hand and wrapped it around Alexandra’s throat, gentle but firm, and Alexandra matched her, feeling Simone’s breath catch in her throat.
It built again, slower this time, their exhaustion weaving into their want. Alexandra watched Simone’s face and saw the moment when her control slipped fully. Simone’s eyes squeezed shut, and a broken moan escaped as her body tensed, her pussy fluttering around Alexandra’s fingers. That sound when Simone completely let go pushed Alexandra over the edge, and she came again shortly after, quieter this time, her body arching into Simone’s as they rode it out together. Simone’s fingers slowed to a stop.
They collapsed, their breaths mingling and bodies slick with sweat. Alexandra’s hand reached out and found Simone’s wrist in the dimness, her fingers threading between Simone’s and squeezing without a thought. Simone didn’t move or pull back; she draped her arm over Alexandra’s waist.
The intensity of their sex faded into awareness as the world seeped back in. The rain had now eased to a light drizzle, and Alexandra could hear the familiar hum of the house. Alexandra lay there with Simone’s warmth against her. She recognized this for what it was: two women who had crossed lines, knowing exactly what they had chosen. In the morning, the boundaries would return, the negotiations would continue, and their competitive edges would sharpen again. But tonight, they weretogether. Alexandra’s thumb traced a slow circle on Simone’s wrist.
18
Chapter 18: Simone
The spicy, resinous sweetness of cardamom reached her before she was fully down the hall.
Nadine was standing at the stove stirring something, the same way she had been every morning for the last ten days. For as long as Simone could remember, her mother had always woken up and been in the kitchen earlier than anyone else. The kitchen smelled of cardamom and something else underneath it, dark and warm, the beginning of whatever Nadine was already putting together for tonight’s dinner. Last night, it had been a chicken colombo, the apartment filling with the scent of turmeric and anise until it drew Simone from her laptop where she’d been working diligently until she couldn’t concentrate.
Nadine’s spices stood in a neat row along the backsplash where before there had been nothing. A ceramic bowl on the counter held three oranges. The dish towel hanging from the oven handle was not the one that had come with the apartment, and the colander had migrated from the cabinet above the refrigerator where Simone had put it when she had moved inbecause it had to go somewhere to the cabinet by the sink where it made considerably more sense.
None of these changes had been mentioned aloud by either of them.
Simone poured herself a mug of coffee and settled at the island, watching her mother work. Nadine moved through the kitchen with the unhurried pace of someone who had cooked in dozens of borrowed spaces and had made peace with all of them. Her hand movements were precise and unself-conscious—rinsing, trimming, setting aside—and Simone had spent enough of her childhood watching her mother work in the kitchen that the sight still had the same pull it always had. The Villeray apartment had smelled like this, and so had the import shop on Beaubien Street, the small back room where Nadine kept the accounts and where Simone had sat at a folding table after school doing the bookkeeping while her mother worked through invoices beside her. She had been twelve the first time Nadine handed her the ledger. By fifteen, she was negotiating with vendors on the phone, her French more formal than her mother’s. The only sound between them had been the radiator clicking in the walls. It hadn’t occurred to Simone until considerably later that this was also a kind of love—the two of them working in parallel, the numbers either adding up or not, and the comfortable silence between two people who trusted each other enough to not have to rush to fill the space.
This penthouse was some thirty-odd years removed from that back room, and Simone had spent that time maintaining that same distance, deliberately, one acquisition at a time. Standing here now, watching Nadine chop vegetables, she couldn’t find the feeling she was supposed to feel about that.
She wrapped both hands around the mug and said nothing.
“You slept,” Nadine said, still not turning from the stove.
“Yes. Did you?”
Nadine made a small, noncommittal sound that Simone knew meant there was an opinion underneath the yes. In fifty-one years, Simone had never successfully lied to her mother, so she had simply learned which truths to offer and which to leave in a drawer.
“The summit is this morning,” Simone said.
“You mentioned.” Nadine reached for something on the backsplash, inspected it, and set it back down. “What time is it?”
“Ten. It goes until mid-afternoon.” She turned the mug slowly in her hands. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
“Well, I’ll be here.”
Nadine had said she was coming for a week. The week had ended four days ago, and her return flight was now rebooked for Thursday. Simone had not asked about it, and Nadine hadn’t explained it further.
Nadine turned from the stove and looked at the windows with the same attention she gave their Villeray apartment before she had left for work, then her gaze moved to the counter, and she was quiet for a moment. Simone recognized the look; Nadine was deciding whether she wanted to say something.
