Since a lot of people thought I updated twice before, I give you a fast update and a new sparkly chapter now! Hope you enjoy,
Chapter 15
"Britt-"
You curl your toes and you breathe hard against her neck, kissing the skin there while your hand works itself lower and lower until it reaches the waistband of her underwear. You push your finger in between the fabric and tickle the caramel flesh on her abdomen. The tingles you feel in the back of your thighs intensify when she racks her fingernails over your shoulders, panting into your ear.
The room is dark but you know the sun will be rising in just a few hours. You marvel in the scent of her hair, the feeling of her body flush against yours. The room is still and quiet except your heavy breathing and her occasional moans. You need to keep quiet so Quinn won't wake up. The living room is right outside your bedroom and the walls are thin. Santana's hands travel lower until they reach to unclasp your bra. You lift your body up enough to throw it away. She palms your breasts and whisper quietly into your ear. Britt. You love the way your name rolls off her tongue, like she's always known your name, like she's destined to say your name forever. You steady yourself with one hand in her dark locks before you push your other hand past the fabric of her underwear, and you feel her heat surround your long slender fingers.
She lets out a shaky breath, moaning your name again. And you kiss her collarbone, starting up a slow rhythm, and you feel like you're flying.
Suddenly Santana goes stiff, and you wonder why, because you have barely even started yet.
But then you lock eyes with her and she looks confused, her brows furrowed and her lips pursed.
She's not looking at you so you stop and you still your movements and you tilt her chin up. Her eyes are conflicted and you kiss her cheek, hoping to get her to stop looking so unsure. You whisper 'what's wrong' and your eyes show genuine concern, but she doesn't answer. You gently pull out your hand from her underwear and you push yourself up on your elbows.
You're still breathing hard and you can still see the lust in her eyes, but something is wrong and you're confused because everything was perfectly good five seconds ago.
You silently hope that you didn't do something to hurt her or something to make her doubt your skills.
But then she wiggles a piece of paper in front of your eyes. You can't see what it is so you take it from her hand.
It's a number.
And suddenly it dawns on you.
"What is that?" she raises her eyebrows. She doesn't look angry, just curious.
"A number," you tell her and she gives you a look that tells you obviously.
"It was some random girl…" you elaborate vaguely because you don't want this to stop what you were doing a minute ago. It's nothing she should worry about and it's not something that should make her stop panting into your ear. Whispering your name while dragging her fingernail down your bare back. "Where did you find that?" you ask because you don't even remember keeping it. You thought you threw it away but apparently you didn't. And now she's looking at you like she wants an explanation to why some girl gave you her number in a club.
"I think it fell out of your bra."
You purse your lips and you shrug.
"Okay," you say and then you lean down to press your lips softly against her cheek. "Can we continue now?" you ask in a whisper because you don't see the point in stopping this just because of a piece of paper.
But Santana only shakes her head. "Why was it in your bra?"
"Sa-an," you whine because you were so close to have her and make her feel so good. "She gave me her number, I put it in my bra because I didn't know where else to put it, and then you came back from the bathroom and started kissing my neck."
You take a deep breath and you look down at her, quirking your eyebrows as if giving her the option to continue talking or continue making sweet lady sex.
She nods her head slowly as if contemplating what you just said.
Her furrowed brows get replaced by a, barely there, but still pleased smile. Your lips quirk upwards and you smile down at her. "Were you jealous?" you ask and your lips form a teasing smile.
Santana widens her eyes and she stutters a bit, her rosy cheeks getting even redder and your smile only grows. "Whatever," she huffs and you giggle at her flushed face. You feel giddy and kind of happy because Santana was jealous of some random girl that has no chance with you what so ever, while Santana herself is in bed with you, underneath you, about to get so high she won't be able to walk properly tomorrow.
So you bend down and you pepper kisses to her cheek, her jaw line, and down her throat, sucking and kissing her pulse point.
Her fingernails are back to your shoulder blades, and you once again tease her skin with your fingers. And when you enter her heat, she bucks her hips up and moans your name. And once again, you feel like you're flying.
XxXx
When you walk into the kitchen the next morning with nothing but panties and a long sleeved shirt on that barely covers your ass, Quinn is already there making herself some breakfast.
"Slept well?" she asks with a quirk of her eyebrow.
"M-hm," you hum because you haven't been sleeping much but when you did you slept amazing. And when you didn't sleep, it was more than amazing. "The couch nice?" you ask through a yawn and she purses her lips. She turns around to face the counter while slicing some cucumber.
"Couch was nice; the noises keeping me awake were less nice."
You blush instantly. You can feel your cheeks grow hot and you know that the tips of your ears are beet red.
"Was traffic really that loud?" you ask and look at the microwave to have something to look at that isn't Quinn's slightly disgusted face. You live right next to a very busy street so she could be referring to people honking the horns while driving outside your window.
Even though you're pretty sure she's not talking about the cars.
"You were right," she says instead of answering your question. "She is a screamer."
And with that, your best friend walks away from the kitchen and towards your bathroom.
When Santana decides to wake up, all three of you sit down to eat breakfast together. You're sitting next to Santana, and Quinn is sitting opposite you.
Santana has her hand on your knee and whenever you lift your teacup to your lips, she inches her fingers higher up your thigh, making your body shudder, and your hands shake which leads to tea getting spilled in your lap.
When you've tried drinking for three times and Santana has made you spill each time, you hiss her name under your breath.
She only smirks and as long as you're sitting next to her, breakfast will be a mission impossible.
So you put your drink down and you remove her hand from your leg. You lean in closer and whisper in her ear. "Stop touching me underneath the table," you say because you're losing all your game when you receive a wink from Santana as you're leaning in. You were going to say something flirtatious but the power her winks have over you is remarkable.
Her smirk grows. And you feel so lost in her dark brown eyes that you don't even notice when her hand is back on your thigh.
"Stop having the sexiest and most flexible legs in world and then maybe I could remove my hand."
Her voice is smooth yet raspy and you swoon. The way her eyes shift over your face, from your eyes to your lips, back to your eyes. The way her tongue pokes out to lick her full lips. It's enticing, and alluring. And her face is coming closer, though you don't know if it's you who move or if it's her. Either way, your noses brush and her fingers trace your thigh higher.
"Oh, please. I'm sitting right here!"
You almost forgot her.
She was being so quiet, reading her newspaper, drinking hot tea from your favorite cup.
Santana's face turns quickly, her eyes wide and a light pink color tint her cheeks. You know that Santana and Quinn aren't on the best of terms. You know Santana is tripping on her toes in Quinn's presence. Quinn is only looking out for you, but while doing so, she can be a bit intimidating.
So when Santana clears her throat, shuffles away from you and creating a fair distance between your chairs, you're not too surprised.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you two were dating."
And Santana's eyes widen again, her cheeks getting even redder. You'd have thought it was pretty adorable, if it weren't for what Quinn just said.
You know she wants to get a rise out of Santana, you know she's eagerly searching for Santana's lady balls. But making Santana squirm in her seat, making her blush and pushing her, will not give her any confidence.
But you're quiet.
And you nibble softly on your sandwich. You even take a sip of your tea, now that Santana isn't close enough to distract you.
Quinn turns pages in her newspaper and sips quietly on her tea. Suddenly her head perks up and she widens her eyes and you silently pray to god that she won't do anything embarrassing. "Or are you dating?" she asks, looking mostly at Santana, and you mentally face palm yourself.
You clear your throat and look towards Santana. You want to see her face, her emotions.
She's staring wide-eyed at Quinn, opening and closing her mouth but says nothing.
You wonder why she just doesn't say "no, we're not dating". It's easy, because you aren't. Still, it looks like she's about to say something. But it doesn't look like she wants to say no.
You decide to finally answer Quinn and you tell her a curt "no".
Quinn raises her eyebrows at Santana as Santana goes back to eating her sandwich in silence.
When you decide to leave the breakfast table to go take a shower, you unintentionally leave Quinn and Santana alone.
But you don't think it will be such a disaster, until you walk back into the kitchen and see that both Quinn and Santana are sitting opposite each other with their arms crossed, with matching snarls on their faces. You feel panic settle in your stomach and you suddenly regret leaving them all alone.
So you quickly shout a 'hey' and they both turn to look at you, surprised to see you. You want the awkward tension to go away and you're kind of relieved when Quinn mutters something about 'The Mentalist' and leaves to plop down on the couch.
You don't know what Quinn has been saying to get Santana to look so moody, but when she leaves you an hour later, she doesn't give you the grumpy face when she says goodbye. Instead she kisses you softly and tells you she'll see you soon.
XxXx
The same night, Santana will be playing with her band in their usual club. Since Quinn will be going to that art-studio-opening, you decide to come with Santana and listen to her singing.
You're standing in the bar, waiting for the bartender to make your drink. You think he's still pretty uncomfortable around you since you ordered him to 'sex your body up' the last time you ordered a drink here.
But when he slides the glass with the fruity drink towards you, he gives you a polite smile before going back to helping other costumers.
You won't be able to see Santana before she performs but you did send her a text a while ago wishing her good luck. Which she answered to right away, also telling you how much she misses you.
You smiled so brightly Quinn had to nudge you five times to get your attention.
When you've watched her perform, and the audience is roaring with applauds, you meet her halfway and you pick her up in a bone crushing hug. She laughs into your ear and you shiver at the sound.
She kisses your cheek in greeting and you melt. When she kisses your cheek, you always think back to the times you kissed each other's cheeks on your couch, making up ridiculous excuses for doing so.
When Sam comes up behind you and drags Santana away, saying they need to have an 'after-performance-meeting' in the back room, she kisses your cheek again before she vanishes in the crowd.
You see Puck on the dance floor and you suddenly become very aware of the fact that this 'meeting' is only between Sam and Santana. You drown your drink in one go before making your way towards the dance floor. You don't want to think about it, you can't think about it.
The thought of the two of them together makes you more jealous than you'll ever want to admit.
You dance for a long time, you don't know for how long, you just know that the panic you felt enveloping your chest has decreased so you decide to take a break, get yourself one more of those fruity drinks, before dancing some more.
XxXx
She's sitting at the bar and Sam's standing in front of her, touching her knee.
You feel sick.
You know that if you don't look away now, you'll do something stupid. Like storm up there and claim her to be yours.
So you turn around, ignoring the dance floor, and you force your legs to start running towards the restroom. You storm inside and when you check all the stalls, making sure you're alone, you slam your hands down on the countertop, inhaling deep breaths. You need to calm down. Your heart needs to stop beating so freaking fast and your stomach needs to stop churning. You don't like feeling this way; you don't like the power she has over you.
You knew right from the start that this wasn't a good idea. You went in with feelings, begging to get crushed. She told you she didn't do girlfriends or emotions. She's been hurt before. You know she wouldn't like you the same way you like her. She warned you before you kissed her, you knew what you were doing, but you did it. And you kissed her anyway.
And since then, everything has been about Santana. Whether you like it or not, you can't stop thinking about her. She's everywhere, even when she's not there. Her scent, her touch, her smile, her twinkling brown eyes. You see and feel her everywhere, and she doesn't even have to be in your sight to make you swoon.
Santana doesn't feel the same way. She wanted your body; you thought you could change that. You thought that you could change the way she looked at you. But you're so naïve, you've always been.
Too naïve for your own good. And now here you are, crying silently in random club in LA, hurting for being so damn sure that she would change her mind.
You rub under your eyes, trying to turn shaky breaths to steady. It doesn't work and the tears keep streaming down your face.
You don't know what to do. You just want to leave.
You contemplate calling Quinn, but you don't want to disturb her. She's been looking forward to this opening and she deserves it, she's been working so hard to achieve her dreams and you know that she wants to work with the arts when she gets older.
You don't want to crush any more dreams tonight. To crush your own is enough.
You need to get over her, to get that shampoo out of your nostrils; you need to tell her you can't do this anymore. You're in love with her, and continue sleeping with her will only make your feelings for her grow stronger. Kissing her lips makes your chest fill with butterflies and if you keep kissing her, they will become too many and you'll explode if you can't let them out.
Santana needs to know how you feel; she doesn't know you have these feelings. If she did, she probably wouldn't keep sleeping with you.
She would backtrack, leave you there with your feelings and never come back.
You need to tell her though, maybe somehow, you could still be friends. Even if you happen to be madly in love with her.
You straighten your hair out and you dry your clammy hands on the front of your dress. You clear your throat and look into the mirror, trying to compose yourself. You can't walk out like this, everyone will notice. And nobody respects the crying maniac in the public restroom.
You need to pull yourself together, walk over to Santana, tell her you'll walk home, and leave her to do whatever with Sam.
They fit together; they're on the same page. No feelings, just sex.
So you take one final deep breath and you push yourself away from the countertop. You're only a few inches away from gripping the door handle when it suddenly opens from the other side.
And in stumbles Santana, wide-eyed and panting.
She's looking frantically around the restroom, before closing the door behind her, trapping you inside.
You wanted this to be easy, to just walk out. But it's hard when she's cornering you.
"What's wrong?" she asks and her face shows so much concern, you almost fall into her arms and tell her everything.
But you don't. And instead you take a few steps backwards, standing in the middle of the restroom.
What's wrong?
The easy answer would be 'I'm in love with you' but since you're still very much emotionally instable and you're afraid you'd tell her more than appropriate if you even started to explain, you just go with: "Nothing."
And it's such an obvious lie that Santana only gives you a displeased quirk of her eyebrow. You know she's expecting something more than white lies from you.
You sigh and pull your fingers through your hair.
You roll your eyes at yourself and your cowardness, your naivety and your lack of skills at expressing exactly how you feel.
Santana takes a couple of steps closer to you. She looks unsure and almost helpless.
Her eyes are tired and this is the first time you notice that look on her face. It's almost scary, you've never seen her weak or insecure. She's usually the one with the unnerving confidence.
"Look," she sighs and you're shocked that she spoke. She was the one asking you a question. What could she possibly have to say to you? And why is she even in here with you right now, when Sam was out there, obviously touching her thigh because he wanted her attention. "Sam asked me if he could come over tonight," she says and you close your eyes, pressing your eyelids together because you really don't want to hear about this.
She sighs again, this time more frustrated. But you don't look at her. You don't want her to see right through you, you don't want to give away all your emotions.
"I didn't plan on this, Britt."
You gulp and you dare to lift your face just the slightest bit, the tone of her voice is low and fragile. You've never seen this side of her before.
You want to ask what she didn't plan on but she beats you to it.
"I didn't want this to happen, I – " she cuts herself off and shakes her head softly from side to side.
She's struggling and she's looking so small. You want to take her hand and tell her that it's okay. But you resist the urge because you still don't know what she's talking about. And if she's still talking about Sam, you don't want to be holding her hand.
So you wait for her to continue.
And she inhales sharply before she locks her eyes with yours. "I didn't plan on meeting you, or letting you in." You watch her closely and you feel your chest tightens. She's still looking you directly in the eye and you're baffled by her sudden certainty. You fiddle with your fingers in front of your dress and the whole conversation is so intimate because it feels like your faces are saying more than your words. You wait on her to keep talking; you need to hear what she has to say because you're pretty sure she isn't talking about Sam anymore.
"I didn't plan on –" her voice breaks and she takes a deep breath before swallowing down what you believe are nerves. She parts her lips again and she looks straight at you. "I didn't plan on liking you this much, Brittany."
And your chest tightens, your heart skips beats and you don't even remember how to breathe correctly. You just stand there, right in front of her, looking into her fragile eyes.
She likes you.
You get high on the thought of her liking you. Still, you don't know in what way. You don't know how much and if it's enough.
"I didn't plan on falling in love with you," and her voice breaks again and tears slide down her cheeks, making a wet path down her face. Your entire body tingles and you feel the need to hold on to something before your legs give in and you'll fall.
But you're already falling.
And she catches you, mentally.
You take a wobbly step towards her and she watches your every move. But one step is enough to make you feel dizzy so you stop. You feel a tear slide down the side of your neck and when you reach your hand up to your face; your cheeks are wet with salty teardrops. You think that maybe Quinn did help you, and maybe she got Santana some courage.
You want to say it back, you want to tell her exactly how you feel but you can't. Your words are gone and the only thing you know for sure is that your heart is beating the crap out of your chest.
Santana seems to notice your inability to do anything. A small smile traces her lips and she inhales shakily before softly whispering: "This is really scary for me, but if I asked you out on a date, would you say yes?"
XxXx