by Fiona Riley
She glanced around the space in search of Savannah. She was on the phone, standing by the far window reading her tablet and juggling some documents at the same time. She had on a hard hat and her forehead was creased in concentration as she shook her head in response to the person on the other end of the line. She was wearing a nicely tailored navy-blue power suit with a skirt that hugged her ass in a way that should be illegal. Olivia let herself appreciate the view until Savannah noticed she had an audience. A sly smile spread across Savannah’s face as she glanced over at Olivia. She winked before resuming her phone call and Olivia’s heartbeat increased. Savannah was all kinds of sexy, and even in a hard hat across a crowded room she made Olivia’s heart thump just a little more enthusiastically.
Try as she might to get Savannah alone, she was unsuccessful. The day was long and before she knew it the team was breaking up, and they were assigned different cars back to the hotel. Savannah had ducked out early to meet with some representatives from New Horizons in the hotel bar to go over the schedule again.
It was after seven that evening before Olivia finally settled into her hotel room. She fell back onto the queen bed and spread out like a starfish on the soft comforter. She closed her eyes and listened to the gentle hum of the air conditioner as she tried to unwind. It was very warm in Phoenix, a dry, arid heat, but her room was cooled to a comfortable seventy-four degrees. She contemplated her dinner options: room service, the hotel bar/restaurant, or off-site. She hadn’t even unpacked yet, but all she could think about was how soft this bed was and how tired her body felt from all the travel of the day.
She must have dozed off because when she blinked her eyes open again it was just after half past seven. She stretched on the bed and sat up slowly before she walked to the bathroom and grabbed one of the plastic-wrapped glasses on the sink to fill with water. She ran the cold tap for a few seconds, then filled the glass and took a sip. The water was warm and she gagged at the unexpected temperature. The ice bucket on the side of the sink caught her eye and she scooped it up. She grabbed her room key card and stepped out into the hall in search of the ice machine.
The machine was around the corner from her room, down the hall, past the elevators, tucked in an alcove at the corner of another long corridor of rooms. She leaned against the wall and pressed the button on the machine until her bucket was almost completely filled.
“Hot?” A familiar velvety voice pulled Olivia from her daze.
Olivia looked up and caught Savannah sending her a curious look. “What?”
“I asked if you were hot.” Savannah nodded toward the ice bucket, which was currently overflowing because Olivia was staring at Savannah’s lips and not paying attention to what she was doing. Savannah reached out and gently ushered Olivia’s hand away from the button to stop the ice chip mountain that was beginning to form.
Olivia flushed and looked down shyly at the mound of ice that was slowly littering its contents onto the floor.
Savannah still loosely held Olivia’s fingers in her hand as she stepped closer. She ducked her head to catch Olivia’s gaze. “I didn’t get a chance to say hello to you earlier. How are you?”
Olivia tilted her head to the side. “I’m good. Better now.” She licked her lips. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” Savannah replied as her gaze fell to Olivia’s lips. Olivia felt her body heat up as Savannah’s eyes lingered. Savannah reached forward and pushed a stray curl behind Olivia’s ear. Savannah’s fingers brushed lightly against her cheek and Olivia closed her eyes at the sensation.
When she blinked them open again she found Savannah watching her. Savannah’s hand dropped to her side and grabbed an ice chip from the overflowing bucket. She popped it into her mouth and she stepped forward a little more as she entwined her fingers with Olivia’s. She glanced up and down the hall before she leaned in and breathed icy cold air across Olivia’s ear.
“Before, when I asked if you were hot, I wasn’t asking about you specifically. I already know you are hot. I just meant, you know, temperature-wise.”
Olivia exhaled a shaky breath. The cool air on her skin made her break out in goose bumps, but Savannah’s lips in such proximity to her ear made her burn up.
She whimpered softly when Savannah’s free hand dropped to her hip and squeezed.
“Have dinner with me tonight.” Savannah brushed ice cold lips across the skin under Olivia’s ear before she pulled back, surveying her.
Olivia gulped. Savannah was still standing close. She was close enough for Olivia to smell her perfume—it was delicious. She took a minute to compose herself and squeezed Savannah’s fingers in hers as she replied, “I’d love to.”
Savannah stepped back a bit farther as she skated the ice chip along her bottom lip with her tongue. Olivia watched with rapt attention as she sucked it back into her mouth with a knowing smile.
“Hey!” Reagan popped around the corner with the phone cradled to her ear. “I was just calling you, Liv. Wanna grab a bite?”
Olivia felt her eyes bulge when she heard Reagan approach from behind her. She watched Savannah’s face for any glimmer of emotion as she withdrew her hand from Olivia’s. Savannah’s smile faded as she surveyed Reagan over Olivia’s shoulder. Olivia got the impression that she was less than thrilled at Reagan’s arrival. She felt that way, too.
“Oh, hey, Savannah.” Reagan stopped next to Olivia. “Got dinner plans?”
Olivia watched Savannah’s eyes narrow with what looked like irritation. Olivia couldn’t think of a worse time for Reagan to fly around the corner and invite her to dinner. She figured the irritation was mirrored in her own face when Savannah glanced back at her with a small apologetic smile before she answered.
“Hey, Reagan.”
“Whoa. Got ice, Liv?” Reagan poked Olivia in the side and spilled a few more ice chips onto the floor.
“Yeah, this machine spits them out faster than I was expecting.” She turned to face Reagan because she didn’t want to be rude. Even if she did want Reagan to disappear into thin air.
“So, ladies…dinner?” Reagan repeated as she glanced between them.
Savannah stepped back farther and leaned against the wall. Olivia watched as she swallowed the end of her ice chip and raised her eyebrow in apparent contemplation.
Olivia figured she had two options and one was decidedly more intimate than the other. They were dancing along that line again—what was appropriate, what was not. Reagan’s option was the much safer bet. It was friendly and harmless. It would look suspicious if they both declined her offer. Olivia had no problem with the direction her relationship with Savannah was going, whatever direction that might be. But she wasn’t about to make an announcement to her team and especially not to Reagan. She could feel the frown on her face, and a subtle nod from Savannah confirmed they were on the same page.
“Yeah, sounds good.” Savannah nodded encouragingly toward her. “Olivia, you in?”
“Sure, sounds great. Let me just drop off my, uh, ice.” Olivia felt flustered. And disappointed. And annoyed.
Savannah struck up a conversation with Reagan and Olivia slipped back to her room to figure out what had just transpired.
Olivia deposited the ice bucket on the bathroom sink and sank onto the edge of the tub with a heavy sigh. Fuck. As much as she loved Reagan, she really, really didn’t want to entertain Reagan or her ramblings over dinner. She really, really wanted to see what Savannah had in store for her instead. That ice thing was like the hottest thing anyone had done to her in the name of seduction. Well, minus the phone sex thing. She was so screwed.
She shook her head, letting her curls tumble around her face. Savannah made her all kinds of nervous. It was the kind of nervous that made you feel clumsy and inarticulate. Ever since that phone call, Olivia had struggled to keep her words and actions in check. It had taken all of her willpower not to jump Savannah in the design space when she was bent over the table looking at specs with Randal, or when she was
laughing at some awful joke Reagan fed her, or when she was smiling down at her phone reading a text Olivia had sent her from across the room just to see how she would react. It was getting hard to behave. They both so obviously wanted the same thing, but they really needed to figure out what that meant and how that was going to happen.
Olivia stood with a frown as she surveyed herself in the mirror. She fixed her mascara, touched up her lip gloss, and resigned herself to a very different dinner than the one she would have preferred.
* * *
Savannah and Reagan were in the hotel bar waiting for a table when Olivia made her way to them. Savannah noticed that she’d changed into a dinner outfit. She looked great.
“So I just told her that I needed some space. You know?” Reagan shook her head and sipped her beer.
Savannah sipped her martini and she tried to be polite while she feigned interest. But she wasn’t really listening. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Olivia since they were interrupted earlier. The stray ice chip in her martini was not helping her focus in the least.
“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re boring Savannah with your dating woes, Reagan,” Olivia chimed in with an exaggerated eye roll. “I’ll get my order to go if that’s the case.”
Reagan scoffed and flashed a look of mock offense. “Whatever, Liv.” An evil smile crossed her face as she narrowed her eyes. “I was just going to tell her all about how you and I used to date.”
Savannah’s head whipped toward Reagan. She must have misheard her. “Did you say something about dating?”
“That was a million years ago, Reagan. No need to dig up ancient history.” Olivia looked nervous.
“Aw, c’mon, Liv.” Reagan slipped her arm around Olivia’s waist in a one-armed hug. “We had some good times. Remember that foam party in West Village A—”
“Enough,” Olivia bit back and shrugged off Reagan’s arm. Savannah watched as her eyes threw daggers in Reagan’s direction. This didn’t seem like a discussion Olivia wanted to have in her presence.
Reagan looked momentarily wounded until the hostess finally appeared and ushered them to their table. Savannah said nothing. She chose instead to sip her drink and watch the tension rise between Olivia and Reagan. That was an interesting disclosure. She wasn’t sure how she felt. Was she a little jealous? Maybe. No. She was more curious, she decided. Something she would inquire about later.
Farrah joined them shortly after they were seated and engrossed them in a story about her teenage daughters and the adventures of dating. Farrah seemed to notice the increased tension between her team members, and Savannah saw her nudge Reagan in the ribs while she continued to engage in a conversation with her.
Reagan apologized under her breath and Olivia dismissed the apology with a tight smile. She’d been making a lot of eye contact with the salmon in front of her.
Savannah excused herself from the table to use the restroom but waited nearby unobserved on the return trip when she overhead Farrah chastise her tablemates.
“What is wrong with you two?” Farrah looked between the two women. “Marital quarrel?”
Savannah could see Olivia shake her head and mutter something, but she couldn’t hear what.
“C’mon. Lighten up. It was a joke.” Reagan pouted and mirrored Olivia’s defensive posture.
Farrah looked between the two of them again and shook her head in frustration. “You two are worse than my teenage girls. Spit it out. What’s wrong?”
Olivia said nothing but Reagan said, “I might have made a joke to Savannah that Olivia and I used to date. And Liv got all uppity about it.” She settled back into her seat with a frown.
“Oh.” Farrah turned to Reagan. “Listen, you know we’re all family here, but maybe Olivia wanted to tell Savannah she was into women herself—”
“Can we not talk about me like I’m not sitting here?” Olivia’s voice rose and Savannah had no trouble hearing that.
Farrah pursed her lips. “I really doubt Savannah cares. She seems totally fine about those things—remember when Reagan hit on her?”
“It’s not that. I don’t actually care if she knows I’m gay or not,” Olivia growled.
Savannah nearly laughed. They’d passed that getting-to-know-you phase a while back when Olivia was masturbating on the phone with her.
Olivia continued, “God, Reagan, stop pouting. It’s fine.”
“Why are you making this into such a big deal? I know you have a crush on her and all, but it’s not like it’s going anywhere, right?” Reagan uncrossed her arms and started tearing at the napkin in front of her, her eyes on the table.
A crush? She hoped it was more than a crush. But what she really wanted to know was the answer to Reagan’s second question.
At first Olivia said nothing and Savannah swore Reagan looked hurt. Did Reagan have a thing for Olivia?
Olivia let out a sigh. She reached forward and stilled Reagan’s nervous picking. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, I think I’m just tired…or maybe just premenstrual, I dunno.”
Savannah noted that she didn’t quite answer Reagan’s question.
“S’okay,” Reagan mumbled and sipped her beer.
Savannah took the pause in conversation as an opportunity to return to the table. She lowered herself into her seat and thought about all the questions she had for Olivia. “Dessert, ladies?”
Chapter Fifteen
Olivia knew she had overreacted to Reagan’s disclosure. She’d had no intention of telling Savannah about her history with Reagan. Ever. But it wasn’t just that. It was more the fact that Reagan had inadvertently ruined her night’s plans and announced that they used to fool around to the woman Olivia was having wet dreams about night after night. Sure, being angry at Reagan might be wrong, but she couldn’t help it. She was pissed. But when Reagan started picking at her napkin and sulking like a child, she felt bad.
She knew she was misdirecting her anger in this moment. Plus, she’d practically put a spotlight on her feelings for Savannah. And that wasn’t an obstacle she needed while they were still figuring things out between them. Still, Reagan was only being playful. She was just too tightly wound to appreciate it.
Once Savannah returned to the table, things eased back into normalcy. They shared a few desserts and made fun of Randal’s outfits a few times before regaling Savannah with the story of how Randal had once lit his pants on fire at the launch of a design space when his untied shoelace got too close to a decorative tiki torch.
At some point during the destruction of the chocolate cake slice in front of them, Savannah’s right hand moved to Olivia’s knee and gently stroked it before pulling back. Olivia momentarily paused in her storytelling to sip her water. She hoped that she didn’t give any hint that her heart lurched into her throat at the affectionate contact. She was explaining to Farrah the importance of social media when she slipped off her shoe and slowly dragged her foot along Savannah’s calf under the table. She could dish it out, too.
Savannah nodded and followed along in the conversation, not pausing for a moment. Olivia was wondering if she’d accidently rubbed someone else’s calf, when Savannah reached out to touch her again. Savannah shifted in her seat so her body was angled toward Olivia, and she traced the fingers of her left hand along her neckline. She tugged her shirt collar while she talked and exposed more and more of her neck and collarbone to Olivia’s view.
Olivia was struggling to keep from staring. Savannah wiggled her fingers and shifted again, and this time Olivia felt Savannah’s hand on the inside of her knee. Savannah stroked up and down before she reached for the check. Olivia felt like her face was on fire.
Reagan and Farrah were a few steps in front of them when they started to leave, engrossed in a conversation about the design space. Olivia stalled in order for Savannah to catch up with her.
“Not fair,” she said as she reached out and tugged at the bottom of Savannah’s shirt.
“I have no idea what you’re
referring to.” Savannah’s hand settled on Olivia’s lower back and stayed there as they walked a few steps behind the other women.
Olivia warmed at the contact on her back. She liked when Savannah touched her. She felt very grounded and comforted by it, even when Savannah was teasing the crap out of her.
Savannah leaned close to ask in a husked whisper, “So, you and Reagan, huh?”
A shiver spread through Olivia, down her spine, back up to her thumping heart, as Savannah whipped out that secret sex voice weapon again, effectively rendering her powerless.
“Um, yeah, but it was forever ago. Like, years,” she whispered back quickly, not quite sure why she felt the need to justify it with a time stamp.
Savannah looked at her. Her eyes trailed over Olivia’s face and paused at her mouth before she said, directly to her lips, “Good.”
“Why? Are you jealous?” Olivia bumped her shoulder into Savannah’s.
Pink lips pursed into a lopsided grin as Savannah paused. “Jealous? No, not particularly. Curious though, yes.”
“Curious?” Olivia asked as Savannah danced her fingertips at her lower back.
“Well, maybe curious is the wrong word.” Savannah glanced at the two women in front of them and seemed to assess their distance before continuing. “Maybe envious is better suited for this situation.”
Olivia felt that familiar tightening in her abdomen as she focused on the way Savannah licked her lips. “Envious of whom, exactly?”
Reagan and Farrah hit the elevator button in the lobby and continued their discussion as Savannah leaned close once more. She breathed right into Olivia’s ear and shattered her attempts at composing her face into some semblance of a calm appearance.
