(rivals to lovers, small town, sports) (Season 2 ongoing) After a devastating Olympic loss puts her career in a downward spiral, an aging skier returns to her laid-back mountain hometown to rediscover her love of her sport and instead finds herself...
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"What do you mean, give them something to talk about?" Holly asked. They were hot in more ways than one, their binder sticky from exertion and the press of bodies all around, their skin buzzing with Eddie's proximity.
Eddie rubbed her thumb against their neck, calluses catching the sensitive skin where their collarbone met their throat and sending a shiver skittering all the way to their toes. Her hand came away damp, their sweat shining against her skin under the low lights. Embarrassment pricked, but she-
She put her hand to her mouth and dragged her pink tongue along the length of her thumb, and the warm room suddenly felt like a sauna. Tucking her nail between her teeth, she smiled, a devious little twist of her lips.
"Put on a show," she said. "Dance with me like you're planning to take me home and fuck me until I forget my own name."
Holly had been putting on a show all night. Every interaction with Eddie, they'd been hyperaware of how it looked. Was it too much? Too little? Too awkward?
Now, though, it was hard to care about anything except the woman right in front them, her shaggy hair wild, that tiny tank top barely containing her glorious body. Eddie was fun. And Holly wanted to have fun.
Their fingers sank into her soft hips and then there was no more space between them, just denim on denim and the sparkle of mischief in her eyes as she gathered their t-shirt in her fists and held them close. They moved together, one body and the music their thudding heartbeat.
"Like that?" they asked.
"I'd almost believe the chaperones left."
Laughter bubbled. "I wasn't dancing like there are chaperones."
"You just like to leave room for Jesus?"
Grinning, they smoothed stray loops of hair off her cheek. "I want you to feel comfortable."
"I'm comfortable. You can grab my ass if you want," she said, like she'd worn those tight jeans just to tempt them, just so when this moment came they wouldn't hesitate to slide both hands down to squeeze her, to drag her closer, somehow, and grind their hips into hers to the fast, heavy pulse of the music.
Holly had never danced like this with Ava. This was sweaty and gritty and sinful. Pure instinct. Eddie's eyelids dipped low. Her breath feathered Holly's neck. There was nothing fake about the way their body responded to the feel of hers, but they always got a little horny when they were drunk.
It would be very convincing if they kissed her right now.
They shrank away from that thought. This was fun, but it was also an act.
Maybe if they weren't looking at her face, if they couldn't feel the heat between her thighs, it would be easier to remember that.
