Darling

Chapter 12

"Don't you dare peek," Lizzie warns me.

The woman guides me through her bedroom, a blindfold secured tight around my eyes. I wrack my brain for a reason why she's blindfolding me in her bedroom, and only one possible explanation comes to mind.

"Um- Is this like, a sex thing?" I ask.

Lizzie's throaty laughter erupts by my ear as she gently pushes my hand back to my side.

"No, no it's not," she says as her laughter dies down.

"Oh," I say, feigning disappointment.

She finally stops me in front of her closet, as far as I can tell.

"Stay there," she instructs.

I hear her open her closet door and the rustling of plastic before she tells me to take my blindfold off. I pull the scarf over my eyes to see Lizzie proudly holding up a beautiful silk black dress. It's one of The Row's designs.

"Wow, Lizzie. This is gorgeous," I breathe, taking a step closer to feel the smooth fabric.

"It's for you," she says with a wide grin. "To wear to dinner."

My eyes widen. The Row is popular among New York's wealthiest, so I'm well aware of the fact that this dress must be worth thousands of dollars.

Lizzie seems to read my mind.

"My sisters literally own The Row, Margot. I just took it off the floor. It's going to look stunning on you. Please, take it."

I relent, offering her a sheepish grin before I pull her in for a hug. While we embrace, I mumble a muffled "Thank you" into her hair. She places a quick kiss on the side of my head before handing me the dress.

We get ready together, Lizzie helping me get the dress on. It's a perfect fit, the silk soft against my skin. As I touch up my makeup, I steal glances at the blonde as she changes into a velvet off-shoulder navy dress. She struggles to grasp the zipper on the back of her dress.

"Here, let me help," I offer, stepping closer to the blonde.

I move her hair to one side of her neck and slide the zipper slowly up her back, mourning the sight of her bare skin as it becomes concealed under the fabric of her dress. She thanks me, turning around and walking off, heels clicking on the floor, my gaze following her as she sprays perfume on her neck and fixes her lipstick. Lizzie smiles, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

"You're staring. Again," she says with a raised eyebrow.

"I know," I breathe, my eyes taking her in as I lean against the doorway.

The tension between the two of us is heavy on the way to the restaurant, Lizzie repeatedly stealing glances at my exposed chest. As she drives, her hand wanders up my thigh, my thighs clenching together when her hand wanders underneath the skirt of my dress, her fingertips brushing over my bikini line.

Her eyes are fixed on the road, and I wonder if she's even aware of the fact that I'm practically squirming in my seat at her touch, my breathing growing heavier. I watch her expression for a clue to find her jaw tense and her eyebrows furrowed as she keeps her eyes locked on the road.

When traffic stalls, she uses the opportunity to kiss me as she hurriedly hikes the fabric of my dress up around my hips with bated breath. Her green orbs gaze over at me as she pushes my panties to the side, humming against my ear as she slides a finger through the pool of arousal that's built up in response to her touch.

I gasp and hold her arm, clenching my legs together, wary of the people on the street around us. Half of me is apprehensive, worried someone will see what's going on. The other is too worked up to care. The latter triumphs the first when she whispers the next words into my ear, her voice low.