Written in the Stars(59)



Darcy’s head bobbed as she lifted her arms into the air, letting Elle tug the sweater up and over her head.

Gah. Darcy’s bra was black, all delicate, sheer lace and thin straps that contrasted heavenly against her peaches and cream skin. A flush worked its way up her chest, skin mottling in sunset shades of pink and red, dark orange freckles dotting the swells of her breasts. Elle bit down on a whimper and dropped the sweater to the floor, hands hanging limply at her sides.

“Freckles and dimples and . . . damn it, Darcy.” Elle panted. “You’re so gorgeous you make my head hurt.”

Her heart, too, in the best way. A good ache, the best ache. Anticipation married to a promise, satisfaction guaranteed, only a matter of time.

Darcy threw her head back and laughed, the move highlighting the long, elegant line of her throat. More skin Elle wanted to trace, taste, freckles she wanted to connect in constellations she’d never get tired of exploring, the freckle beside Darcy’s mouth, Elle’s favorite, the one she’d always come back to. Her new North Star.

“Dimples? They’re caused by having a shorter than normal zygomaticus major muscle. It’s a facial flaw.”

Oh, please. “A sexy flaw.”

Cheeks pink and eyes bright, Darcy reached one finger out, curling it beneath the low V-neck of Elle’s sweater. Her finger brushed Elle’s bare skin right over her heart. “Fair’s fair.”

Elle reached for the hem of her sweater and yanked it over her head, freezing when the fabric snagged hard on her earring. Perfect. “Um. I’m stuck. Could you . . . ?”

Hands reached up the neck of Elle’s troublesome fluffy sweater. Gently, Darcy freed Elle, then helped her tug the sweater the rest of the way over her head.

Hair mussed and bangs falling in her eyes, Elle blinked, flushing hotter as Darcy’s eyes dipped, staring unapologetically.

Pupils blown wide, Darcy lifted her eyes. Her tongue, bubblegum pink and just as sweet, darted out, licking her lips. “May I?”

Yes, yes. A thousand times, yes. Elle nodded so fast her head spun.

Fingers danced up Elle’s side, forcing her to bite back a giggle at the way it tickled, Darcy’s touch too soft. The laughter stuck in her throat, transforming into a moan when Darcy cupped the small, braless swell of her breast, her thumb sweeping against her nipple, featherlight.

Her knees trembled and her back arched sharply into Darcy’s touch. Her brain forgot how to make words entirely when Darcy dropped her head, lips skimming the skin stretched over her collarbone, and lower, trailing down Elle’s chest, pressing wet kisses to her skin that led to the peak of her right breast. Darcy’s lips wrapped around Elle’s nipple, sucking gently, tugging with her teeth until Elle’s skin went taut, pebbling. Darcy drew back and blew, the sudden rush of cool air against Elle’s sensitive skin making her gasp and reach out, fingers tangling in Darcy’s red hair.

One of Darcy’s hands slipped lower, slid beneath Elle’s skirt and between her thighs, cupping Elle over her leggings and damp underwear and pressing, rubbing with the heel of her hand, making Elle clench and mewl.

Before Elle could get any real relief, Darcy straightened and walked them both backward until Elle’s knees hit the side of her unmade bed. Elle fell, bouncing against her mattress and sinking into the mess of soft blankets.

Darcy tumbled down after her, hands braced on either side of Elle, bracketing her head. She skimmed her nose against Elle’s, breath fanning her mouth, making Elle’s tender, kiss-swollen lips tingle. Eyes dark and lids heavy, those long, enviable lashes that had first caught Elle’s eye on their disastrous blind date swept against the thin skin beneath Darcy’s eyes as she blinked, throat jerking as she swallowed.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been dying to taste you?” Rhetorical, it had to be, the way Darcy’s tongue darted out from between red lips turning the question into a confession. “It’s all I can think about. Tell me I can. Please.”

Fingers twisting in the sheets beneath her, Elle arched her back, pushing up into Darcy. The ache between her thighs intensified. “Fuck. Yes.”

A relieved sigh slipped from between Darcy’s lips as if she’d thought Elle might say no. As if there were a universe where Elle would ever tell her no.

Darcy slipped lower, lips skimming the hollow of Elle’s throat, the space between her breasts, her hands ghosting over Elle’s ribs, down her waist, her hip, along the curve of her thigh, gooseflesh prickling in the wake of Darcy’s touch. Fingers tucking beneath the band of Elle’s skirt and the leggings underneath, Darcy tugged, yanking the fabric over Elle’s hips and thighs, down her calves and over her feet, her mismatched socks sliding off with them, inside out. Flung across the room and forgotten.

Naked save for the bright blue lace boy shorts hugging her hips—not as sexy as that unfortunate pair she’d lost after their first date, but close—Elle tried not to squirm. The room was warm, but a shiver skittered down her spine at the look in Darcy’s eyes. A look that ignited a want inside Elle that made her dizzy with desperation even though she was lying down. “Darcy.”

Blinking fast, Darcy leaned over Elle, lips trailing a hot path down her torso, tongue dipping inside Elle’s navel, making her squirm, hips dancing. Those kisses trailed lower, lips brushing the elastic band of Elle’s underwear, teeth snapping the fabric before her fingers dipped beneath the waistband, tucking and curling. “Okay?”

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