“Lex found it thrifting.”
I bite my lip. “And the throw cushions?” But he doesn’t have to answer—no straight man would be able to so cleverly coordinate the lamp with the paintings and pillows.
“All Lex. She’s the decorator. Before she came along my walls were bare—except the TV.”
Of course. Now that I’m really looking, I can see Lex’s tasteeverywhere; all the comfortable, homey touches that bring the space to life and attracted me in the first place are only here because of her.
Olsen’s hand finds its way around my waist, his mouth lowering to my neck as he places soft, delicate kisses to my sensitive skin. I keep my gaze fixed on the art as I tilt my head to give him more room. Like the wax of a candle warmed by a tiny flame, I slowly begin melting into him. Yearning for affection, my body arches toward his, tingling at his touch. It’s been so long since someone’s touched me like this. Months. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like.
I take a long gulp of my wine for courage before setting my glass upon the fireplace mantel. Turning in Olsen’s arms, I close my eyes and press forward to kiss him, but I push against him a bit too forcefully and he takes a step back, stumbling into the couch. He sits quickly, dragging me with him, and we fall with a thunk onto the brown suede. I pretend I meant for this to happen and swing a leg over his lap so I’m straddling him, feeling a delightful pressure at my centre where his semi-hardened form presses against me.
“Is this too fast?” Olsen asks, lips hovering close to mine. “You said before you wanted to take things slow.”
This is the slowest I’ve ever taken anything in my life. I can’t carry on like this—I just have to know. I’m ready to put this experiment to the test. I’m ready to see if the curse reallycanbe broken. And the only way to do that is to move forward.
Instead of words, I reply with action, kissing him intensely. Olsen responds as if he’s been wanting to do this for a very long time, his hands eagerly exploring my body as his mouth claims mine. I close my eyes and focus on the sensations, chasing my arousal and letting my body take what it needs. My hips begin slowly working, building pressure where I can feel him growing thicker with our contact. Olsen’s fingers find their way to thestraps of my dress, which he slowly peels down. I shiver as cool air touches my bare breasts, my nipples hardening to delicate points. He caresses me on one side while his other hand holds me firmly in place, his lips not missing a single beat. I gasp into his mouth as he pinches one nipple, sending a zing down my belly and right to my clit. I grind harder against him, needing more. Despite my obvious arousal, Olsen takes his time. His lips leave mine, trailing wet kisses down my neck, over my clavicle, and then lower, until he sucks one nipple into his mouth while pinching the other. My back arches involuntarily and I draw in a sharp breath through my teeth.
I wrap one hand around his neck, then pull him on top of me as I move into a horizontal position on the couch. Olsen settles between my thighs, pushing them deliciously apart as he presses himself against me. My body’s response to another person’s touch, their weight and warmth, their excited exploration of my skin, sends a tingling rush to all my extremities. With his mouth still eagerly enjoying my breast, I take his other hand and guide it lower, drawing it past my rib cage, over my abdomen, to my hip, and then finally between my legs. His fingers trace over my panties, and he rumbles a low moan in his throat. “You’re so fucking wet.”
Fuck. I am. There’s a delicious zing from my clit as he palms me, pressing the base of his thumb against my most sensitive area as he moves in slow circles. My hips lift toward him, aching for more, pressure building deep within me and begging for release.
“Please,” I murmur, my bottom lip trembling.
Olsen’s teeth tug at my nipple and I gasp, my hips bucking against him. He chuckles lowly, enjoying this slow torment. I feel like my body is a dam, its reservoir overfilled by far too long being left alone, far too long without the pleasure of another person’s touch, far too long being held back by this horrible curse. I need this release so fucking bad, and he’s taking his goddamn time with it, like I’m not squirming beneath him, a jumble of tight muscles and aching, built-up need.
His fingers finally slide my panties out of the way and trace their way along the slick, delicate intricacies, coating themselves in how eager my body is for this, how badly I need it. One finger slips inside easily, but it’s not enough, not nearly enough.
“More,” I murmur, squeezing my eyes shut to focus on the sensation.
Olsen moves down my body, his tongue tracing lines over my belly, to my hip, and further down. He manoeuvres his way onto the floor and turns my body so he’s kneeling between my thighs as I lounge on his sofa, my legs draped over his shoulders. I keep my eyes shut, focusing on all my nerve endings as he kisses his way to my centre. I gasp as he sucks on my clit, sliding one finger back inside me, then another. I moan with the added fullness, my body drawing him in and craving more. His tongue expertly laps circles around my clit as his fingers stroke in strong, rhythmic pulses, andfuck—right there. Right... there...
“Oh god!” My voice is little more than a high-pitched whimper.
He slides his fingers out, leaving me momentarily bereft, before slamming three back into me. My entire body trembles and tenses as I come, coating his hand and his couch as my body shudders and pulses, swept away in the intensity of my much-needed orgasm.
But in the heat of the moment my pleasure-addled brain moans a word so unexpected it brings us both to a halt.
“Lex!”
chapter eighteen
LesbianingTM
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” I push Olsen away and slam my thighs back together.Please, universe, can a black hole tear apart the fabric of space and time and suck me into it? Can an earthquake rip the ground open and swallow me whole?Anything but this, shouting Olsen’s goddamnsister’sname while he finger-fucks me on his couch.
I stand quickly and pull my dress back down over my waist before tugging at the straps to cover my tits.Jesus Christ, is that mess on the couch fromme?As if shouting his sister’s name while I came wasn’t bad enough, I had to go ahead and ruin his suede, too. My mind is a swirling mess of confusing emotions. I have no idea what to do or say or think, save for the panicking voice shouting in my head to get the fuck out of there. “I have to go.” I nab my purse and heels and book it to the door.
“Wait!” Olsen’s fast, but I make it there before him, swinging it open wildly and running through it. Olsen catches my wrist, tugging me to a stop. “Can you just wait?”
“I’m sorry.” I wrench my arm from his grasp. “I can’t do this.”
I’m vaguely aware of Olsen calling after me, something about getting me an Uber, about not walking around alone at night, but I just need some space to breathe and think. Why did I say that? What the hell is wrong with me? Everything was going so well. I was so close to finding true love and breaking the curse. Why did I say her name? Lex is my friend! My goddamned friend! Yeah, sure, she’s the best friend I’ve ever had. And I’ve never connected with someone so fast. And she’s been with me through more ups and downs than anyone ever has in my whole life. And she seems entertained by my awkwardness rather than afraid of it or deterred by it. But she’s my... my friend.
My beautiful, amazing, intelligent, kind, thoughtful friend.
My friend with adorable dimples that pop when she’s trying not to smile, with her short-cropped hair that highlights her cheekbones, and her intense blue-eyed gaze that peers right into my soul. My friend whose entire countenance shifts into something so warm and magical and special and just for me when we’re alone together. My friend who makes me want to strive to be a better person every single day just to hold a candle to her brilliance. My friend who makes me feel so safe in being myself.
A flash of realization slaps me in the face so hard it nearly knocks me on my ass—literally. I stop, stunned, clutching my chest.