“Elle, God.” Darcy’s groan verged on praise, nails raking against Elle’s scalp and sending tingles down her spine. “Your mouth. You’re killing me.”
Darcy’s head pressed back against the rug, her hair splayed out around her, the copper a stark contrast against the plush, white sheepskin. Her back curved, bowing sinfully, her hips arching up off the floor the best they could with Elle straddling her thighs.
Skimming her lips down Darcy’s stomach, Elle fumbled for the zipper on Darcy’s skirt, finding it tucked away against the side of her hip. She lowered it, the sound of the zipper’s teeth loud, making the moment feel a little more charged. Her fingers slid beneath the waist of the skirt, and tugged, yanking the stretchy wool over Darcy’s ass and down her thighs. Darcy wiggled, helping Elle slide the tight fabric off the rest of the way, down her calves and over her slender feet, her polished toes visible through her thin stockings.
Fuck. Darcy was . . . pretty beyond belief would be putting it lightly.
She wore a black garter belt, suspenders attached to the flesh-tone stockings ending midthigh. Elle swallowed and traced a finger beneath the thin, satin suspender, snapping it gently, the subtle sting, or maybe just the sound, making Darcy gasp.
Darcy was apparently impatient because one of her hands slipped between her legs, touching herself over her underwear.
“No.” Elle batted her hand away and leaned in, kissing the skin where Darcy’s leg met her body. “I’m taking care of you, remember?”
Darcy’s breath sped, rasping between her lips, and she dropped her hand to the floor.
Elle sucked at the skin on Darcy’s inner thigh until her muscles quivered and a sharp gasp slipped from her lips. “Elle.”
She stared at the skin she’d turned bright red. As far as unexpected turn-ons went, she had not expected the bright red bloom of a love bite on Darcy’s thigh to get her hot. But the thought of Darcy walking around the rest of the week with a mouth-shaped bruise—Elle’s mouth-shaped bruise—beneath her pristine dresses and perfectly tailored pants was undeniably sexy. Their little secret, proof that Darcy might looked pulled together, but Elle had the ability to unravel her at the seams and turn her into something soft and messy to be taken care of, too.
Darcy wiggled against the floor and keened softly, hips arching up off the floor.
Tearing her eyes away from the mark she’d left on Darcy’s skin, Elle kissed her way up Darcy’s thigh and over, lips skimming the edge of Darcy’s underwear. Tapping Darcy’s hip so she’d raise her hips, Elle tugged the fabric over her ass and down her thighs, letting Darcy kick them off the rest of the way. She got comfortable between Darcy’s legs, reaching out, thumbs parting her folds. Darcy was soaked, glistening with arousal, her thighs sticky damp when she tried to rub her legs together.
Elle exhaled, breath ghosting over Darcy, and then leaned in and ran her tongue up Darcy’s slit, moaning softly at the way she tasted. Darcy’s hips jerked, pressing closer to Elle’s mouth.
Elle rocked her hips down, grinding into the rug, seeking friction, something, anything to take the edge off as she wrapped her arms around Darcy’s thighs, holding her down, holding her open. She flicked the tip of her tongue against Darcy’s swollen clit, hard and fast, before wrapping her lips around the bundle and sucking it between her lips, adding just the subtlest edge of teeth to the mix.
“Fuck.” Darcy’s fingers threaded through Elle’s hair, tugging hard enough to make her scalp tingle. The feeling shot through her, making her wet. “More. Please.”
Ignoring the heat between her thighs, Elle sucked harder and moved her tongue faster, sliding one hand up Darcy’s thigh. A soft, satisfied mewl slipped from Darcy’s lips, her heat clenching as Elle slid her fingers inside Darcy and curled them forward.
“Oh my—fuck.” Darcy tossed her head to the side. The muscles in her stomach twitched as she rocked down against Elle’s fingers.
Positive Darcy was close, Elle curled her fingers harder, faster, and—
Darcy’s back arched, her thighs trembling against Elle’s shoulders, as she clenched hot and wet around Elle’s fingers. A gasp broke from between her lips followed by a low moan that set Elle’s blood on fire.
She withdrew her fingers, moaning softly when Darcy continued to spasm with aftershocks. She kissed the hickey she’d left and rolled to the side, head pillowing on Darcy’s thigh.
Darcy’s fingers massaged Elle’s head, nails raking gently against her scalp. Despite being more turned on than she could remember being, Elle savored the moment, committing it to memory. All of it, the quiet, the peace, the anticipation, the way Darcy’s white decor served as the perfect backdrop for the rainbow lights shining from the naked-looking tree. How for the first time, everything in her life felt not just right, but perfect.
* * *
“Margot,” Elle called out, dropping her bag by the door and leaning against the wall. After the night she’d had, she could barely feel her legs and her arms weren’t much better. “You home?”
Margot popped her head out of the kitchen. “Hey. Have fun?”
“You could say that.” Elle skipped around the bar, making a beeline for the kitchen. Darcy had plied her with pancakes—not from a box—but she was still hungry. Little sleep and marathon sex would do that to a girl.
She opened the refrigerator . . . the empty refrigerator. Save for a jar of pickles and a Tupperware container full of Taco Bell hot sauces they collected because of the funny sayings on the packets, they had nothing. “Mar, we need to go shopping.”
Margot rifled through their basket of assorted K-cups and plucked out an extrabold, dark roast. The kind that made Elle jittery just from inhaling the aroma. “Want me to pick a few things up while I’m out?”
Elle shut the fridge and leaned against it, frowning. “You’re going somewhere?”
“Yeah. My stupid fucking computer is practically a relic, you know? It went all blue screen of death on me yesterday so Brendon offered to go shopping with me for a new one. He’s busy with his mom this afternoon, but said he had some time this morning.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I find your friendship with Brendon mildly terrifying.”
“How can something be mildly terrifying?”
“Shut up. You know what I mean.”
Maybe it was a consequence of this thing between her and Darcy starting out disastrously, then fake, but Elle had been wary of spending too much time with Brendon outside of their work dealings. What if she let something slip, something incriminating that might blow the whole charade? Hopefully now that she and Darcy were real, achingly real, she and Brendon could become closer. Like he and Margot who were suddenly best buds, their shared love of Harry Potter and rock-climbing giving them plenty to bond over in addition to the partnership.
The Keurig beeped, Margot’s coffee finished brewing. She snagged her cup and lifted it to her mouth, blowing on it gently. “We barely talk about you and Darcy.”
“But you do talk about us.”
“Only in the sense that Brendon moons over you guys and pats himself on the back for, quote, orchestrating the match of the decade. I, of course, make fun of him for saying the words, match of the decade.” Margot gulped her coffee even though it had to be scalding. “Then he gets all wistful for a relationship of his own. Let me tell you, Brendon might be more of a romantic than you are. He looked offended when I told him he needs to get laid.”
“Uh, pot, kettle?”
“It’s a dry spell, Elle.”
Elle coughed. “Drought.”
Margot reached across the counter into the sink, scooping up a handful of soap bubbles and flinging them at Elle, missing by a hair when she ducked. “I hopped on Tinder and this guy legit thought that being pansexual meant I’m attracted to fucking nonstick cookware. ‘Oh yeah, baby, your griddle fucking turns me on. You shake that wok. Shake it harder.’”
Elle chortled. “That’s not funny.”
“I joke so I
won’t commit fucking homicide.” Margot snatched a towel and dried off her hands. “Just because I’m not looking for something serious doesn’t mean I don’t have standards for who I sleep with.”
Elle knew how Margot felt. At least half her matches on dating apps, before she met Darcy, were couples looking for threesomes, thinking because she was bi she’d be into it. Dating, regardless of the type of relationship you were looking for, was hard.
“You keep your standards high.” Elle nodded resolutely. “They make vibrators for a reason.”
Margot’s tongue poked into her cheek. “When in doubt, rub one out?” Margot sighed and slouched against the counter. “You think it would be awful if I hopped on OTP?”
Elle grimaced. While not expressly against the terms and conditions of use, OTP wasn’t the app for hookups. It didn’t stop people from using it for flings, but the purpose of the app was to help people find their one true pairing, not their one true one-night stand.
“Don’t let Brendon know.”
“God no.” Margot laughed. “He’ll give me that I’m disappointed in you puppy-dog frown and I’ll hate myself for at least an hour.”
“At least.” Maybe it was because she was tired from staying up half the night doing delightfully dirty things to Darcy on her living room floor, but for the first time, Elle noticed an arrangement of pink stargazer lilies—her favorite flower. She always stopped to ooh and ah over them at the market, but paying thirty dollars for something that would die in a week—sooner probably thanks to her black thumb—felt egregious. “Where’d those come from?”
Margot shrugged, trying so hard to come across nonchalant that she seemed the opposite. “Check the card.”
She plucked the fancy embossed card from the plastic pick sticking up between the lilies’ velvet soft petals. “Did you read it?”
“Mm-hmm.” Margot reached for her coffee. “Go on.”
The way Margot was acting made her hesitate. Who was it from? She’d just been with Darcy half an hour ago; unless she had a florist on speed dial—which hey, knowing Darcy—it seemed improbable the lilies were from her. But who? Only one way to find out. Elle flipped the card open.
Elle,
Jane and I have both texted and you haven’t responded, but you’re still posting on insta so we feel pretty confident you haven’t died. Jane just told me that was a shitty joke and I shouldn’t have started with that but I’m writing in pen and I spent six bucks on this card so
Jane and I hope you’re doing well. That meme about Mercury retrograde was funny as fuck and Jane just got mad at me for writing fuck but I thought you’d appreciate
The card started over, this time in Jane’s looping handwriting.
Hey Elle,
Daniel and I wanted to send you these flowers as a belated congratulations on your deal with OTP! We’re so happy for you, little sister.
Daniel’s slanted, choppy scrawl picked up.
Little sister? Could this sound more Stepford?
A smudge of ink marked the transition.
We’re sorry for what happened on Thanksgiving, but more than that, we’re sorry for not realizing how you felt sooner. You’re our sister and we should have realized you were hurting.
You’ve never not been good enough, Elle. We’re both amazed by how fearlessly you pursue your passions and how you don’t let anyone’s opinion stop you from doing what feels right. You’re an inspiration and I’m so happy that Ryland and the twins will have you to look up to when it comes to always following their dreams and their hearts.
Daniel had once again stolen the pen.
Solid sentiment, corny execution, Jane.
Elle could imagine Jane standing there, hands on her hips, the perfect imitation of their mom save for the twitch at the corners of her mouth.
The next bit was cramped, Jane running out of room to write.
Daniel and I owe you dinner to celebrate, just the three of us, unless you want to bring Darcy. Who we really like by the way.
Daniel put in his two cents.
Definitely. Just between us, we like her better than Marcus, but don’t tell Lydia we said that. Hand to God, if he mentioned his Lamborghini one more time, I was going to flip my shit at the table. His car gets eleven miles per gallon. Weird flex, but whatever.
Jane’s exasperation shone through in the way her words were a little bolder, as if she’d pressed the pen into the card hard.
I’ll give you a call and we can plan something. Answer, please!
Love you bunches,
Xoxo Jane and Daniel
P.S. I looked up my natal chart online, and apparently my moon is in Leo. That’s good, yeah? You give friends and family discounts, right? –D
Oh god, someone was absolutely cutting onions in the next apartment. Elle sniffled and laughed and shrugged when Margot cocked her head.
“You gonna take them up on dinner?”
“As far as apologies go, that was basically perfect. Which kind of pisses me off because of course Daniel and Jane would make the perfect apology.” Elle rolled her eyes, but was mostly kidding.
As hurt and irritated as she’d been, she hated the tension, hated not answering their texts and calls, but she’d reached her breaking point on Thanksgiving. Daniel and Jane acknowledging her feelings was a weight off her shoulders, the validation more of a relief than she could have expected. Not everything was magically resolved, but it was a start.
Margot stared over the rim of her mug. “How about your mom? Still avoiding her?”
“I’m not avoiding her.” Elle pinched a velvety petal between her fingers. “I’m ignoring her calls. There’s a difference.”
Margot frowned. “Elle—”
“Don’t Elle me like that, like you’re disappointed.” Elle tossed the card on the counter. “All Mom’s messages have been business as usual. Asking if we’re still on for brunch. If I’m coming to the next family dinner. It’s like Thanksgiving never happened and I can’t do it. I can’t keep acting like nothing happened. Like I’m not hurt.”
“You need to talk it out. Just the two of you. It’s good you finally said something, but you barely scraped the surface of the issue, babe, and nothing was resolved. I’m not saying you should act like it never happened and I’m not saying you need to forgive her unless you feel so inclined, but you can’t keep sending her to voice mail. What are you going to do when it’s Christmas? Have another fight where nothing gets fixed? Not talk?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out when the time comes.”
Margot sighed. “And you don’t feel like this is avoiding the situation?”
Elle didn’t say anything.
“Fine.” Margot set her cup in the sink. “We won’t talk about that. Let’s talk about this dinner with Daniel and Jane. Are you going to take Darcy?”
She didn’t know. She’d just gotten the card. She hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t had time to think about it. “Maybe? If she has time.”
The holidays were hectic enough; add in Darcy’s mom drama and studying for her FSA exam . . . Elle didn’t want to push.
It’s why she’d bitten her tongue last night when she’d been tempted to rainbow vomit her feelings all over Darcy. Caring about someone, loving someone, wasn’t supposed to be a secret, it was meant to be shared. That was the beauty of it, the whole point, only Elle couldn’t imagine a confession of that magnitude going over well this soon, not when they had yet to even define their relationship.
Not that Elle was worried. Not really. Darcy knew what Elle was looking for. She had told her in no uncertain terms on that first failed date—was it still a failure if it brought them together in the end?—that she was looking for the one. And there wasn’t a doubt in Elle’s mind that Darcy was it.
And she’d tell her that. Contrary to whatever Margot thought, Elle wasn’t avoiding anything. All right, maybe she was avoiding Mom, but not this. This was good, great, amazing. She just didn’t want the first tim
e she told Darcy how she felt to be when Darcy was upset about her mother or stressed about her exam. There was no rush. Not when there was no longer an expiration date looming at the end of the month. Not when this was something Elle wanted to last.
Chapter Seventeen
December 13
DARCY (4:57 P.M.):
ELLE (5:02 P.M.): drops of jupiter by train?
ELLE (5:02 P.M.): it’s a great song
ELLE (5:02 P.M.): one of my favorites
DARCY (5:04 P.M.): Popped up on my playlist on my way to work this morning.
DARCY (5:05 P.M.): It made me think of you.
DARCY (5:05 P.M.): And I thought you should know.
ELLE (5:08 P.M.): vhjgbuinlkgydsyb
ELLE (5:08 P.M.): omg
ELLE (5:08 P.M.): you can’t just say things like that
DARCY (5:15 P.M.): Sorry?
ELLE (5:16 P.M.): no it just makes me want to kiss you and you aren’t here right now so i can’t
ELLE (5:17 P.M.): you should absolutely say things like that
ELLE (5:18 P.M.): i like it
ELLE (5:18 P.M.): just do it when i can express my appreciation you know?
DARCY (5:22 P.M.): Ah.
ELLE (5:24 P.M.): ~ah~
ELLE (5:29 P.M.): what are you doing tonight?
DARCY (5:32 P.M.): Study group.
ELLE (5:33 P.M.): i can help you study
ELLE (5:34 P.M.): question one what is darcy doing tonight?
ELLE (5:34 P.M.): a) elle b) elle c) elle d) elle
ELLE (5:34 P.M.): see?
DARCY (5:36 P.M.):
ELLE (5:37 P.M.): bring your flashcards
ELLE (5:37 P.M.): im great with positive reinforcement
ELLE (5:38 P.M.): strip studying
ELLE (5:38 P.M.): every question you get right ill take off an article of clothing
ELLE (5:39 P.M.): if it worked for billy madison it can totally work for you
DARCY (5:44 P.M.): Fine. But you really have to help me study. And you have to feed me first. I skipped lunch.
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