A shiver skittered down Olive’s back right along the pathway of the zipper she was desperate for Stella to pull. Nimble fingers combed through her hair. Stella slid the pins out one by one, dropping each one into a neat pile on the coffee table with a tiny plink. With every pin she kissed a spot of bare skin.
Olive reached behind her, stroking a hand down Stella’s cheek along her dimple.
How far is this going to go?
Her hair fell loose. Stella’s fingers dragged down her neck in a caress that was otherworldly in its softness, nails grazing against her, setting her skin on fire.
“Stella.”
“What?”
“God, that feels amazing.”
“I’m glad.”
Olive twisted and straddled her, letting her released hair curtain around their faces. Stella’s pilot shirt had gotten pulled free of the top of her pants. Olive’s dress rode high on her thighs, the wetness saturating the tights beneath it.
Their lips pressed together again. Each meeting. Each wanting. Stella’s hair was half out of her bun and Olive figured it was her turn. She swept the hair free, loving the silkiness against her knuckles. They rolled, so each had a shoulder against the couch. Olive’s leg rested over Stella’s hip.
As their bodies began to move together, Stella pulled away. “Olive, I think…”
“Yeah.”
“I think it’s late. And, I know I… uh… it’s not that I don’t want… but—”
“Right.” Olive moved her leg off Stella’s hip. Her eyes opened. And because her mouth, brain, and lady parts were completely disconnected, Olive whispered something incredibly stupid: “You could stay here tonight.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea.” Stella frowned. “This was—”
“I swear I’ll be nothing but a heating source.”
“I need to get home.” She kissed Olive once on the forehead. “I really had so much fun tonight. Thank you. For everything. I’ll text you tomorrow, okay?” She stood from the couch and within five minutes the front door opened and closed.
It took ten minutes for Olive’s brain to recover from whiplash. Once she made it to her bedroom, she hung up the dress because Derek would kill her if she didn’t, and then she flopped onto the bed, turning over to stare at her nightstand drawer.
“Well, Alyson, guess it’s just you and me tonight.”
Was talking to her vibrator a new low? Yep. Yes it was.
Chapter 29
Even four days removed from kissing Stella on the couch, Olive couldn’t look at the teal-green velvet without thinking about the easy way their bodies had twined together there. It had smelled like Stella for two days. Now, Derek leaned back on her couch with the oversized dog in between them. They’d had a horrible shift and were each on their second glass of wine. Derek topped off his glass and grabbed a piece of pizza. His eyes widened for a second as he did a slight head nod toward a cream-colored sweater on a hook at the door.
“That’s not yours.”
Instead of responding, Olive followed his example, pouring until she killed the bottle.
“Is she coming here a lot?”
“We’re friends, Derek. Stella came over for lunch a couple times. She ended up canceling a few flying lessons because of the weather. We hung out.” They hadn’t had any more kissing. Olive liked having her around. “She likes Gus. Friends.”
“That’s it. Friends. Nothing more?” He lifted his hand and then a black tie dangled down as if he were a magician doing a scarf trick.
“Oops. Where was that?”
“Suspiciously deep in the couch cushions.” The tie swayed from his hand, and his lips quirked to the side.
“We might have made out. Nothing else. Clothes on.” Olive hoped she didn’t sound too sullen as she said it. “Except the tie.”