“This may as well be rocket science because I have no idea how to put an outfit together. I should ask Kenna.”
“You’re pitiful,” he teased, letting go of my waist. “Wear a dress, or nice pants and a blouse.”
“Where did you learn all of this?” I questioned, searching through my drawers for nice pants.
“I’ve taken a lot of blouses and dresses off in my glory days.” He smirked. I dropped the khaki pants in my hand and growled lowly. I stalked towards Rush, pushed his shoulders against the full-length mirror, his eyes widened.
“Don’t ever talk about whatever girls you entertained before me,” I spat, arms shaking, trying to hold him in place. He smirked, flattered that I was jealous, and grabbed my waist again, pulling me into him.
“Okay,” he promised. “I’m sorry. I’m all yours, pretty girl.”
“Beautiful,” I ground out, relaxing into him.
“What?”
“If you’re going to talk about your previous conquests, the least you can do it call me beautiful, not pretty.”
His chest shook with the laughter he held back. “Okay, beautiful girl, let’s get you dressed.”
Rush eventually stopped trying to take off my bra and underwear and helped me find me tightly fitted, ivory pants, in the bottom drawer. While I looked through my pile of shoes, Rush searched for a shirt.
He tossed a shirt to me, the same color as the pants, that was structured and suit-like. The top showed quite a bit of my chest, although my breasts weren’t big enough to make it inappropriate. The ensemble wasn’t girly, but it was feminine and strong. I slid a pair of dove gray pumps on my feet. Isla would always make me practice walking in high heels, claiming it was a skill every woman needed.
I told Rush to leave so I could change my undergarments, to which he smirked, sat down on the ottoman, crossed his legs, and rested his chin on his fist. I asked again, adding a sarcastic ‘please’ to my demand. He relaxed in his seat and smiled.
Playfulness spiked in me, he expected me to become uncomfortable and leave, he had done this before. I saw his eyes stare at me daringly, teasingly, like he was enjoying me squirm.
My shoulder arched back as my hands reached behind me, unhooked my bra, and tossed in on the ground. I slid the panties down my legs, stepped out of them and stood back up. My bare body was on display, and although Rush’s eyes darkened, I suddenly became aware of how small my breasts were, how thin I was, and how small my butt was.
I stood my ground, gulping down the anxiety, and tilting my chin up higher. Rush rose from his seat like a predator, slinking across the room to me. I stumbled back, nearly tripping over my panties, but Rush grabbed my waist. His hands stayed on my back and stomach as he looked over my body.
My cheeks were a flaming red, hiding my eyes under my thick eyelashes. He tilted my head up with his finger and bent his head, kissing my lips softly, reassuringly. The kiss wasn’t hurried, it was slow, purposeful.
He was telling me he loved me with his body.
Amplified
As he released me from the kiss, he whispered, “You are so fucking gorgeous.” My lip hitched in a crooked smile. “I’ve never seen anything as perfect as you.”
“Rush,” I breathed.
He groaned, eyes closing. “Say my name again.”
“Rush.” I smirked, a teasing tone unraveling on my tongue. He let out a guttural noise and pushed me up against a set of floor to ceiling cabinets in the closet. My body was pressing against the cabinets and Rush’s body, my feet dangling, trying to touch the ground.
His lips hungrily devoured my neck and jaw, occasionally kissing the bottom of my ear. My legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his shoulders.
His hand gripped my skin, closer and closer to my exposed areas, lingering just above or below where I knew he wanted to touch. He kissed my lips again, tongue dragging across my lower lip.
I suddenly become aware of how he was dressed as I moved against him, knowing it wouldn’t be safe for his fabric the more he aroused me. I pushed his shoulders back, and his lips latched onto my collarbone.
“Rush,” I stuttered, closing my eyes as his teeth nipped my skin. “We’re going to be late, and I’m going to ruin your clothes.”
“I don’t mind.” His voice vibrated against me as he talked.
“Well then, at least take off your clothes, so you don’t ruin them,” I teased. Immediately, he was holding me to him as he walked over to the bed. He laid me down slowly, taking his time to kiss down my body as he stood; once on my lips, collarbone, one between my breasts, near my belly button, my thigh, and then he stood fully.
He sauntered to the door, checked the lock, and strolled back to me. I lifted my hand and bit my fingertip, trying not to smile as widely as I was. He kicked his shoes off languidly in the middle of the floor. Next, he unbuttoned his shirt, eyes never leaving my body, and let that fall to the floor as well.
His belt and pants were next, his boxers disappearing somewhere in the mix, and then he was bare in front of me as well. He crawled back to me, kissing my lips. His lower half brushed against me, and I jumped a little, startled. He pulled back and let his forehead touch mine.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, fingers drifting over my stomach that quaked at the ticklish feeling.
“Absolutely,” my voice wavered, hand reaching up to graze the stubble on his cheek. He kissed me, nose touching my cheek. Every movement was exaggerated, every touch amplified, electrocuting my skin.
The hand that was resting
