Darcy’s lips are warm and soft and they taste of strawberry chapstick. Her tongue slips against mine, and her fingers tighten in my hair. A quiet moan escapes me, a restrained plea for her to pull me down, to inversely replicate the tumble on the ice. Instead, she shifts, the edge of the mattress pressing against my legs, and deepens the kiss. My body tips backward, my fingers clinging to her jacket as the hard mattress meets my spine.
It’s dark in the cabin, but the pale moonlight beams through the small window above, illuminating just a stripe of Darcy’s freckled cheeks. She straddles me, still fully clothed, still kissing me like I’m the air she breathes.
And here I am, still loving it.
“Is this okay?” she asks breathily, her lips brushing the sweet spot behind my ear. The softest moan escapes my lips, and I’m already a puddle.
“More than okay.”
One hand stays tangled in my hair, anchoring me to the pillow, while the other slips beneath my shirt, Darcy’s cool gloves tracing the curve of my ribs. A jolt of pure electricity shoots through me, and I don’t know if it’s a threat or a promise. I have little to no proof that Darcy Cole wants me alive. Maybe this was her plan all along. Maybe that’s why she kissed me on the ice like she was pouring every last watt of energy into it. Like she was trying to cause a surge, an explosion, so she could show up to our next practice without my questioning interruptions.
Maybe she was right.
Maybe I am Icarus.
And she’s the sun.
And oh, fuck—I’m going toburn to death.
My pulse quickens, traveling though my body, thrumming in my ears, and thudding between my thighs. If I had any survival instincts, I’d be pulling out from under her. Running out the door. Screaming for my life because I just made Darcy Cole step onto the ice, and now she’s on top of me.
But if this is natural selection, the pale moonlight of her body, the breeze of her breath, the sweet almond cherry scent as her thigh finds the space between mine and presses?
Mother Nature, do your worst.
“Take these off,” I say, tugging at the hem of her gloves as her fingertips toy with the band of my sports bra. Darcy just keepskissing me, her tongue wandering up the curve of my jaw, and I shudder underneath her before pulling at them again. This time, her hand draws back.
Then her lips.
Then her body.
My brows pinch in concern, and I sit up slightly, trying to meet her eye, though it’s kind of hard in the dark.
“Are you okay?” I ask, breath staggered.
Darcy doesn’t respond immediately, which makes me all the more convinced that she’s about to snap my neck. My heart pounds, breath hitching as she leans back.
Fuck.
Is she getting a weapon?
“Darcy, I—”
“I want to take my gloves off,” she says softly. I can’t see her, just the silhouette of her body straddling mine. The familiar details I’m so used to staring at—her freckles, that golden ring on her nose, those emerald eyes, all fade in the dark. But it doesn’t matter. I could spend years studying the fundamental shape of her.
“Then take them off,” I murmur, raising my hand to trace the dip in her cheek, hoping to imprint it on my mind. I’m not a total idiot. I know this is the firstandlast time I will ever touch Darcy. Whether that be due to the realities of her disdain for me, my lack of time for anything beyond this, or the fact that I’m still not entirely convinced she isn’t trying to kill me. And if I never get to touch her again, I need to rememberexactlywhat she felt like.
Darcy leans forward, her chest brushing against mine as she kisses me.
“I don’t want you to see me.”
I frown. “It’s dark.”
I can’t see her, but I can physically feel her rolling her eyes. “Figure that out on your own, did ya?”
A slight chuckle slips out of me. Darcy continues.
“Look, it’s dark, but it’s not dark enough. And I don’t want you to see…” she trails off.
