Count Your Lucky Stars (Written in the Stars, #3)(60)
Margot (11:11 p.m.): Am I turning you on or something? Making you think about last night?
Margot (11:11 p.m.): Because I’m thinking about it.
Margot (11:12 p.m.): You sound so sweet when you’re begging me to let you come. When you’re begging me to fuck you a little bit harder.
Margot (11:12 p.m.): I promise I’ll be so fair, Liv.
Even across the patio, several feet away, it was obvious how Olivia’s hands shook when she typed. How her throat jerked convulsively with each swallow. How her blush had yet to abate, how if anything, it had deepened into a scarlet flush. Olivia’s tongue swept out against her full bottom lip, wetting it, and Margot had never wanted to bite something so badly in her life that she ached.
All the noise around her—the conversations, the laughter, the popping and cracking of the wood in the firepit—faded into the background when Olivia’s eyes lifted and locked on Margot’s face across the deck, expression intense and inscrutable, a precursor to the text that vibrated against Margot’s thigh.
With great reluctance, Margot tore her eyes from Olivia’s and looked at her screen.
Olivia (11:13 p.m.): Is it later yet?
Staring directly at Olivia, unwilling to even blink and miss one of the micro-expressions that flitted across her pretty, flushed face, Margot tipped her beer back and drained what remained in one swallow. Neck of the bottle dangling from her fingers, she stood and addressed the group at large. “I hate to be a party poop, but I’m going to call it a night.”
Everyone wished her a good night’s sleep, the conversation winding down as others expressed their desire to hit the hay and wake up bright and early to hit the slopes.
She made it to the patio door before her phone buzzed.
Olivia (11:16 p.m.): Don’t lock your door.
Margot smiled.
Maybe she wasn’t Olivia’s perfect person, the one Olivia wanted with her whole heart and soul, the person Olivia ached for and dreamed about at night. But Margot could give her this.
Margot could be the best at this.
Chapter Fifteen
Olivia begged off ten minutes after Margot left the patio.
She’d have left sooner, had it not been for Luke trying to convince her to stick around and have one more beer with him.
Nothing against Luke. He seemed like a nice guy, friendly, charming, accomplished. But Olivia didn’t want nice.
All she wanted was Margot. Margot’s hands on her body, her mouth on her skin. Margot making good on her promises. Margot, Margot, Margot.
Her brain was on a constant loop, her body burning before Margot even touched her. The mere suggestion was enough to make her flush from head to toe. To make her want with a fierceness that verged on need. Like if she didn’t have Margot’s hands on her in the next minutes she’d spontaneously combust, which sounded a little extreme, but she wasn’t exactly thinking coherent thoughts at the moment.
Everything she felt for Margot verged on extreme, too much, too fast, and nothing she felt was very sensible, but here she was. The smartest thing she could’ve done was probably walk away before Margot caught on that what Olivia felt was so much more than what they’d agreed on, but she couldn’t. How could she walk away from Margot when she had everything she’d ever wanted . . . except what she couldn’t have? Except what was off-limits?
Olivia was a lot of things, but greedy wasn’t one of them.
By the time she made it inside and to the door that separated her room from Margot’s, she was already buzzing, practically vibrating with need, her underwear uncomfortably damp. She’d been forced to suffer since Margot had teased her with the promise of later, and her suggestive texts hadn’t helped.
She was beyond ready for Margot to make good on her promise.
No sooner had she rapped her knuckles gently against the door to Margot’s hotel room, did it open inward. Margot reached out, dragging Olivia inside with a hand fisted in front of Olivia’s sweater. The door slammed shut, and Margot pressed her up against it, covering Olivia’s mouth with hers, no greeting necessary.
The kiss was bruising. More teeth than anything else. Margot nipped hard at Olivia’s bottom lip, soothing the sting with a flick of her tongue. Margot’s hands skimmed the sides of Olivia’s waist before going straight for the hem of her sweater, breaking the kiss only so that she could drag the Henley over Olivia’s head. Margot flung it somewhere behind her and immediately dove back in, burying her face in the side of Olivia’s neck. She ran her lips along the edge of Olivia’s jaw, leaving a trail of kisses down Olivia’s throat, then biting at the skin stretched taut over her collarbone.
Olivia panted into the quiet of the room and gripped Margot’s waist, fingers biting into the strip of skin left bare where her cropped sweater rode up. Below, she was already down to her underwear. “God, Margot. What—what brought this on?”
Margot lifted her head. It was late, fully dark out save for the silvery glow of the almost-full moon and the scattershot of stars sprinkling the sky like glitter. There was just enough light streaming through the window to make out the plains of Margot’s face, most of her in shadow save for the tip of her nose and the center of her forehead, the crest of one cheek, and the bright gleam of her equally dark eyes. Margot’s hand slipped between Olivia’s thighs and cupped Olivia over her leggings, pressing hard against Olivia’s clit with the heel of her hand. Olivia hissed through her teeth and bit down on her bottom lip.