Grabbing his hand, I pull his crass self toward the dance floor. I hear him cursing behind me but I can't help but feel giddy. Boston thought I wouldn't kiss him the way I had but what he wasn't banking on was that I wanted to kiss him like that. I just wouldn't have done it if I hadn't had the liquid courage.
They way I've been acting lately, who knows? Maybe I would have.
He had been right in his assumption. That kiss had wrecked me. More specifically, wrecked my underwear. Those dark and sinful eyes that were glistening when he'd asked the question made them flood even more. Boston knows what he does to me. He knows the effect he has on me. It's hardly fair.
"I can't believe I let you convince me to do this." He'd grumbled out as we took our place at the end of the line near the back.
"You should probably be on the outside so you don't run into anyone with that large muscley body." He glares at me as I boop him on the nose again. Another groan comes out as he stands beside me with a new song taking over the speakers. I'd done this particular dance already. So I start to move my feet.
"Moooonicaaa." He complains, already stumbling over himself as he tries to move along.
"Just move your feet!"
"One— I don't know how to move my feet. Two— especially to a dance I've never done!" As if to accentuate the point he almost trips himself.
"Okay, now spin." He does, right into me, nearly knocking me over.
"Ah fuck, I'm sorry." He runs a hand through his hair and for once he looks completely embarrassed. "Mon, seriously, I can't do this."
"Come on, tatted Elvis, find your rhythm." I grab his hand and slide with him to the left. Then we slide to the right, not doing all the fancy foot work the people around us are doing. "See look! There you go! You've got it!"
"I definitely do not." He still looks uneasy but his mood has lightened slightly. He almost looks like he's having fun. "Okay, these boots make life so much harder." He nearly trips again. "Fuck sake!"
"You wanted them, cowboy." I steady him as best I can when he almost topples over.
"I wanted them because you wanted them."
"Don't lie, Elvis. You're rocking that black leather!" We take two steps back and clap.
"Hardly."
"Getcha a cowboy hat next too."
"Only if you get one." I look over to him as he slides much less clumsy. "Gotta getcha to learn how to ride a buckin' bronco first, though." He thrusts his hips with a wink which makes me nearly trip over myself. "Who's out of their element now, huh?"
"You cheat!" I give him a thwack on the chest as the song ends.
"Never." His arms wrap around me, pulling me into his body as a softer sounding song plays over the speakers. "Want another drink?"
"I want to dance." I wrap my arms around his neck.
"To this?" I nod and he puckers his lips. "Mon, I said one dance."
I flutter my lashes up at him and give him my best pleading face, "please?"
He blows out a deep breath through his nose before placing his forehead down on mine with, "fine."
We begin rocking back and forth, swaying to the song. It's soft. It's sweet. It's a love song. And never in my life have I ever liked country music but I love this song.
I can't help the smile that splays itself on my lips when his eyes open and land on mine. The feeling of his large arms wrapped around me affectionately, like he'd done so twice in bed earlier, roused something in me.
As if he can tell what's going on inside my head, Boston pulls me closer. So close our bodies are touching as we move against one another. Once the music ends I don't want to leave his arms. Don't want him to ease his hold on me. He looks like he feels much the same way.
Trying to break up the moment we're having is the new beat that begins to flow throughout the room. But we stand there, unmoving, looking at each other for an answer. What the question is I'm still unsure. There's too many swirling throughout my mind.
"I want to go back to the hotel." I muttered out the words, just wanting to be alone with him. I want him to hold me in his arms again.
"The hotel?" He probed and I nodded. "Alright." Boston unwraps his arms from around me and I immediately feel the loss. He grabs ahold of my hand and leads me out of the building.
The hotel is only a short walk but it feels like it's taking forever. Our hands connected the entire eternity it takes to get back. His other hand continuously went throughout his hair and I wanted to ask if it was nerves or frustration. What was it that had him doing that?
When we enter the hotel room there's an awkward silence. I set my clutch down on the breakfast bar, not knowing where to go from here. There's a palpable tension between he and I. Boston pulls his hand out of mine and shoves both of them in his pockets. He rocks on his heels and blows out a deep breath, looking anywhere but at me.
"Boston?" He's staring at the bed, completely zoned out. I raise me voice, "Boston?"
"Huh?" His eyes find mine and they're dark, really dark.
"You look a little lost in thought. Care to share where your head is at?"
"You don't want to know where my head is at." His voice is a touch deeper and I realize exactly where his head is at. I know exactly why he'd been looking at the bed like that.
"You're thinking about having sex with me?"
He belts out a laugh which makes me feel like such an idiot. Oh my god. Why did I just say it like that? Way to ruin the moment, Monica.
"Geez, just blurt out the obvious, why don't you." After a moment he collects himself. "Yes, yes I was thinking about doing rather naughty things with you."
"Tell me." I want to know what he was thinking about. Although, I don't know if my underwear will be able to take it at this point.
He looks me over, as if debating whether or not he should. Then he looks at the bed again, "I was thinking about lying you down on that bed and kissing you until you have no breath left. Until I knew you wanted me just as bad as I want you."
"Who's to say I don't already want you as bad?" I take a step forward, feeling bolder than my usual self. "Who's to say I don't want you to do things to me?" I reach up with a shaky hand and splay it on his chest.
"What things?" He takes my hand and brings it up to his mouth, giving it a wet kiss before sliding his tongue between my index and middle fingers. His tongue-ring teases my skin against the wetness. "Dirty things?" He asked, because I can't make my mouth work as I watch him. "You want me to do dirty things to you?" Fixated on his tongue, I nod.
Boston releases my hand and then grabs me by the back of the neck before kissing me fiercely. His promise to steal my breath away, leave me a wanton mess, is fulfilled as he backs me toward the bed. His tongue invades my mouth over and over again. His barbell piercing teasing me and taunting me, making me want more.
I make an umph noise as we fall on the bed together, not wanting to let go of one another. His hands are all over my body. My hands are all over his, feeling every single muscle. He pulls away from me momentarily to pull off his shirt and then dives back down on top of me. I hesitate, feeling his bare skin and wonder his intention.
"I just want to feel your hands on my bare skin." He reassured, as he hovers over me.
"It's hardly bare." I look him over, appreciating all that he is, every tattooed inch of him. I reach my hands out and touch the designs on him. "I love them. They're beautiful." He trembles when my fingers run down his back.
"I hope you let me give you some as well." He leans down and kisses my shoulder before he reaches up to slip the strap of my dress down, taking my bra strap with it. His lips slowly move toward the top of my left breast. I don't stop him when he tugs the fabrics down, exposing one ample mound of flesh. "Beautiful." Nails dig into his back when he leans down and takes my taught nipple into his mouth.
My legs squeeze together and my back arches slightly off the bed as his tongue swirls over my nipple before sucking on it. A low whimper leaves my lips when he releases me from his mouth. Soft, wet kisses trail over my clavicle while one of his hands separates my clenched thighs. His tongue licks up the curve of my neck until it reaches my ear with, "can I touch you?" I give him a trembling nod of the head, not being able to find my voice. "I need to hear it out loud. Can I touch you, Monica?"
"Yes, Boston, you can touch me." He lifts his lips from my ear before giving me a slow and deep kiss. His fingers caress the skin of my inner thigh idly as they inch up. I find myself aching, needy for him in ways I've never felt before. He pauses right before touching me where I want him to, need him to.
He gets up on on elbow, pulling his mouth from mine and stares at me. I'm about to ask him what he's looking at when two of his fingers press against my needy heat. My eyes automatically flutter to the back of my head. He gives me the exact amount of pressure as he rubs my wet slit up and down, up and down.
"You're so wet." I can't respond. I don't know how to. "So wet for me." My eyes fly open when he slides my panties to the side. "I want to touch you bare."
"Okay." I was just barely able to whisper.
When his digits touch my naked flesh it's too much. I moan out into the room loudly, feeling more wetness coat his fingers. I squirm beneath him, hips rocking on their own accord, chasing something as he plays with me. His thick middle finger dips inside of me, something I haven't even done to myself. He's the first one to ever touch the inside of me.
"Christ, you're so fucking tight." As if to accentuate that fact, he probes a bit deeper. He circles the digit around inside of me before working it in and out in a slow, repetitive motion. The moment his thumb presses against my sensitive bundle, it's more than I can handle.
My core begins clenching around him and every muscle in my body begins to tense and quiver. My mouth opens and heavy, breathless moans leave me as I feel such an intense wave of pleasure course through me. When I finally fall over the precipice of release, I cry louder than I ever have, shaking from head to toe.
Every now and again there are little pleasurable twitches as I come down. Little whimperish sounds continue to leave my mouth. I can't hear them though because my ears are ringing. When I blink my eyes back to Earth, away from the blissful stars, I see him watching me intensely. His finger still slowly pumping in and out of me.
"You're so beautiful." The words were said as a throaty groan before his lips descend on mine, leaving me an enamored mess.
A/N:
Is it hot in here?
Happy Thursday!