Page 69 of Love: Take Two

I do as he says, and he rewards me by yanking down my panties and plunging his thick fingers deep into my pussy. We both moan at the connection.

"God, Awa. Your pussy is so…" He leans in and places a chaste kiss right against my clit. "Perfect."

Two strong hands hold me in position as he parts my seam with his eager tongue. It circles my bud, slides lower into my center, then returns once more to the source of my agony. My cunt is streaming and I'm trembling like the strand of a spider's web, alerting a predator of vulnerable prey nearby. And then Noah strikes, thrusting his fingers into me at the same time he takes my clit in a deep, wet suck.

I cum immediately, crumpling over him like a tree in a hurricane.

"You were on fire today," he murmurs, placing errant kisses on my womanhood as I continue to quiver against my entryway wall. "You had the studio running scared."

Irritation pinches the skin between my brows.

"They tried to say the existing coverage would be sufficient despite the change to the rigging!" I grouse.

I start to close my legs, sink into myself at the thought of those slimy execs trying to get away with the bare minimum. But Noah doesn't let me. He lets out the cutest growl and nudges my legs back out with his knees. He goes back to showering my pussy with little licks and kisses, and I stifle a laugh.

"I didn't mean to kill the mood," he says, nipping my hip and the tender skin of my pelvis. "On the contrary; watching you go toe to toe with those douchebags was extremely hot. I've been hard ever since I overheard you with them."

He nuzzles against the soft skin of my pooch, but stops when he notices me stiffen.

"Awa? What is it?"

I frown, unsure about broaching the subject. People's perceptions of me are my burden to bear, not his. But…if we're going to keep seeing each other, if we're ever going to domorethan see each other, I need to be able to share these things with him. I can't walk on eggshells in my own relationship.

I let out a steadying breath.

"It's small," I hedge, trying to soften the blow, "but last time, you said I was mean. Tonight, you said Pinnacle's counsel was scared, which, I assure you, he was not," I huff mildly. "It's hard enough trying to get things done as a woman. As a Black woman, I can barely even frown without getting labeled anAngry Black Woman. The double standard is outrageous."

I'm panting now, annoyed just thinking about that sniveling weasel. He wasn't unusual; he's the norm. Every day, I have to hold my own against men who would gladly trample me to get one more percentage point on their ROI. To them, this business is like a big, flashy financial investment, and it's my job to keep my clients from winding up just another zero in their ledgers.

Noah is up now, standing close but not touching me, his face etched in worry.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I didn't mean—" He clears his throat. "I would never call you anAngry Black Woman, nor do I think of you that way. You're damn impressive, a sight to behold. Youarescary," he insists, and raises his hand to stop my objection. "Scarygoodat your job. You know I come from a family of lawyers. They're Goliaths in their specialties, and I would never have lived up to that level of excellence.

"You?" He shakes his head. "You, they would love. You would give them a run for their money."

I'm stunned. My mouth opens and closes, but no sound emerges. I've spent my life working to hear those words. That I'm worthy. That I'm special. That I make them proud. And now, in less than two weeks, I hear them from both my mom and Noah, the man I'm sleeping with. The man I work next to.The first man to ever break my heart.

"Thank you," I choke out. Noah bundles me in his arms, and we're silent for a while.

"I shouldn't have brought it up," he says quietly against the top of my head. "I'm the one who said no work talk, and I honestly didn't think about how my words could sound. Thank you for calling me on my shit."

I huff out a laugh against his chest.

"I'm always happy to call you on your shit," I tease, and his body rumbles with laughter.

"So, do we get to have make-up sex now, or do I need to eat your pussy again?" he asks with a wicked grin.

"Noah!" I gasp, then shriek when he lifts me up and throws me over his shoulder. "Put me down!"

I know he can carry me—he seems to delight in throwing me around whenever we're both naked—but I can't get my heart under control after his sincere words, his easy apology. They trigger a warm feeling that starts in the pit of my stomach and blooms behind my breastbone.

It's almost like—

Ring ring. Ring ring…Ring ring. Ring ring.

Both of us turn and frown at the high-pitched chimes emanating from Noah's pocket.

"I thought our phones were supposed to be on silent," I grumble.