Pure lemony sin. I'm going to Hell for this...
Enjoy it anyway!
Rachel Gardner stared in the full-length mirror with a pensive scowl as she turned from side to side and stared at her reflection.
The sheer fabric of the dress seemed a little more revealing than it had been in the store, or maybe it was simply her imagination. Either way, her lacy pink bra was as terribly visible, and since she'd already tried white and tan, she was giving up hope on that front.
'I've gone without a bra before,' Rachel thought as she unhooked the fasteners. 'It won't be that bad . . .'
No, it wasn't the bra question that bothered her most. It was that the same plaguing facet that prevented her wearing a bra was also holding quite true with her panties . . . The bright multi-shaded blue polka-dot panties that she was wearing to start with were a definite no-no. The white lacy ones she'd tried next were little more than a fashion faux pas. Every single pair she tried on seemed to show up worse than the last ones. Rachel was running out of hope, running out of panties, and starting to seriously consider the idea of leaving them off, altogether.
'I can't really do that, can I? I mean, not wearing my panties? That can't be a good idea . . .'
'Well, doll, you could wear them, but I'm afraid you'll look a little ridiculous. I mean, you saw for yourself, the panties look bad . . .
Rachel tugged on the dress and grimaced as it fell back into place. No matter how she stood, her panties showed. Zack was going to laugh at her, she just knew it . . .
'Of course I have,' she thought absently, pulling out the skirt and letting go again, as though repeating the action would change the result. She sighed when it didn't work.
'Rachel, how often have you insisted that you're not a baby anymore? If you go over there and tell him that you can't because he might see your panties . . . It was your idea to seduce him. He won't just laugh at you. He might start thinking you really are still a child, after all, don't you think?'
Rachel bit her lip and wrung her hands, the very idea of what she was considering bringing a painful flush to her skin as she gathered her courage. Grasping her panties as she drew a deep breath, Rachel pulled them off and stood back up as the gauzy dress fell back into place. The panty lines were gone, and to her relief only the vaguest shadows could be discerned. There was no way he'd be able to see anything, not really, and with a soft giggle as she shook her head at her own ridiculous worries.
She still felt bare, though, and that wasn't good . . .
'At least I don't have to pinch my cheeks or anything to give them some color,' she thought with a silly little giggle, shaking her hair back as she took another deep breath to calm her rapidly fraying nerves. 'I wonder what Zack will think of this dress . . .'
She was excited to see him tonight.
That was her favorite thing; the nights. It seemed like she always tried to stay on the other side of the bed, ever since they had first started to room together. She always lay down beside him, and the first few times she'd woken up to find herself draped all over Zack, she'd been rather embarrassed. Unsure how he'd feel about that, Rachel tried not to do it again, but every morning she woke up wrapped around him. He hadn't complained about it, ever.
She'd begun to suspect that he liked it as much as she did. She could have sworn that he'd reached over, pulled her close just before she'd drifted off to sleep. It wasn't clear to her. Being half asleep, she wasn't positive if he really had done that or if she just thought he did. Either way, she was sprawled across his chest this morning, fingers tangled in his hair with his arms wrapped around her, the air peaceful, his light breathing the only sound in the quiet.
Shaking off the reverie, Rachel glanced in the mirror one last time. 'It'll be fine,' she scoffed at her own sensibilities. Maybe I am special to him then . . . At least a little special, anyway . . .'
Rachel glanced around the apartment. Zack was nowhere to be seen. 'He's probably getting stuff set up,' she mused as she slowly moved toward the short hallway and his makeshift studio. They had decided tonight was finally going to be their first night together...in an intimate way.
Sure enough, he was setting up a couple standing lights and a rather large metal fan. Rachel hovered in the doorway, unsure if she ought to interrupt him or not. He'd removed his shirt and was adjusting the lights, flicking them on to see where the shadows fell before turning them off to adjust them again.
Rachel bit her lip before shrugging off the robe and straightening her dress. Zack turned around and glanced at her only to look back again with an inscrutable expression. He stood still as stone for several agonizing moments. Rachel shifted from one foot to the other, unable to read just what he was thinking . . .
"That's . . . the dress . . .?"
She nodded. "You . . . You don't like it?"
He shook his head. "No, it's not that . . . I like it a lot."
Rachel toyed with the gossamer cap sleeves and shrugged.
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'Dear God in heaven, what is she trying to do to us?'
Zack stifled a groan and stared, unable to look away to save his life as Rachel gnawed on her lip and shifted from one foot to the other. Hair blowing back in the fabricated air of the fan, her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright, and in the harsh lights he used to chase away shadows, the already thin fabric of the translucent gown seemed to dissolve around Rachel like a wisp of a cloud, like the edges of a dream, like an angel come to earth. The wind molded the dress to her frame, revealing every curve and contour. She hid nothing from him, and in those moments, in those breaths, Zack felt his resolve slipping away.
Nervously twisting her hair around her finger, Rachel's ears flattened for a moment as rosy cheeks pinked a little more. Forcing his eyes back to the blank paper, Zack couldn't comprehend where to even begin. She was too tiny, too perfect, too stunning to capture on canvas.
The dress transformed her, adding a wistfulness and whimsy to the woman he knew so well. 'God, she's . . . beautiful . . .'
'Yeah, she is.'
You want to give her everything in the world, don't you? You want to shelter and protect her. You want to hold her and love her. She's everything you've ever wanted, everything you've ever needed . . .'
"Zack?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you okay?"
His hands were shaking. Zack blinked. "It's fine," he told her, unable to keep the irritation out of his tone. "I'm fine."
"O-Okay," Rachel replied. He glanced up at her to find her staring back at him with a troubled frown. "If you're sure."
He forced a smile, trying not to let his gaze fall below her neck. "Little brats don't frown," he said.
And she smiled, just for him. Thin and fragile and full of compassion, she smiled as though she understood the thoughts that plagued him. His throat felt as though it were closing up. He swallowed hard and nodded.
"Why do you look like that?" she asked softly.
"Look like what?"
She shrugged and winced, hair billowing out around her, the golden strands caught on the fingers of a breeze. "You look like you just lost your best friend."
Zack forced a hollow laugh. "Don't be ridiculous. You're my best friend, right? You're right here, so I certainly didn't lose ya."
Her laughter was warm, cosseting the frazzled edges of raw emotion. "I'm your best friend? Really?"
"Aren't ya?"
"That's nice . . . I like it . . . best friends . . ."
"Ray?"
"Yes?"
He cleared his throat when he lifted his gaze only to see every curve of her hips, of her breasts. The shadows of her nipples were outlined with the sheer fabric, and he couldn't seem to look away from her.
Zack heaved a sigh and tightened his grip on the pencil. If he lived through this little odyssey, he'd be truly amazed . . .
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"You'd better put your robe back on. You look . . . a little cold."he told her.
She frowned at the strange tone underlying his words. He was staring at the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, and he had yet to stand up or even look at her. "Is something wrong?" she asked as she stepped out from under the warmth of the lights and away from the cold air generated by the fan.
"Wrong? Huh? No . . . Not a thing . . ."
"But . . ."
He sighed and shook his head, frowning at her for a moment before slowly standing up and taking her hand to lead her from the room and down the hallway. Stopping in front of his empty bedroom, he pulled Rachel inside, maneuvering her with his hands on her shoulders until she was standing before the floor length mirror. Zack stood behind her, lifted her chin, forced her to look at herself. "Ray . . . you're . . . beautiful; do you see?"
She tried to pull away from him as an embarrassed blush suffused her skin. He didn't let go. "Zack . . ."
"Nope, yer not going anywhere. I'm tired of ya saying that yer not beautiful because you are. I don't want ya comparing yourself to anyone or thinking that you're not every bit as gorgeous as any other woman. It's not true. It's never been true. Yer more . . . more . . . everything. Do ya understand?"
His tone was angry, but his words were kind. Rachel stared in the mirror, lifted her gaze to meet his. The fierceness in his eyes startled her as he slowly shook his head. A thousand emotions flickered through his stare. Gone before she could begin to comprehend them all, he looked like he was battling something that she couldn't see. "But I'm not . . . tall or graceful or—"
"Stop it," he growled. "Just stop."
She shook her head, her gaze clouding in confusion. Zack stifled a groan and closed his eyes, as though he needed a moment to gather his scattered thoughts. Maybe he did because when he opened his eyes, the indecision was gone, replaced by an intense burn, a fire that frightened her and thrilled her at the same time. "Damn it, Rachel . . . You don't know, do ya? You have no idea what you do to me?"
Her heart stopped for the briefest of moments before slamming hard into her ribcage. His words were more potent than she could have ever imagined, and she stared, transfixed, as he carefully slipped the dress off her shoulders. It caught on the rise of her breasts. His ragged breath rippled over her skin as he pushed the material down. Swollen nipples puckering at the sheer fabric brushed against them, Rachel whimpered quietly. She could feel her legs shake, her entire body quivering as she struggled to remain standing. Zack uttered a terse growl that reassured her as his hands slipped down her sides, catching the dress gathered around her hips and pushing it down until it fell, pooling around her feet in a whisper of gossamer. "Look at yourself, Ray," Zack rasped out in a barely audible voice. "I want you, ya know, like I've never wanted any other woman before."
Rachel gasped as he tilted her head to the side, as his mouth closed over the soft contour of her throat. Teeth grazing over her as he wrapped his arms around her, Zack pulled her flush against his body, cradled her against his heart. Hands rising to cross over her belly, claws dragging against tender flesh, his fingers danced over her nipples as Rachel's knees buckled. She couldn't watch what he was doing to her as his hands closed over her breasts. It was enough that she could feel it, feel everything about him. Unprepared for the torrent of sheer sensation, she couldn't even remember that she needed to breathe. Strength in motion, beauty veiled in the wash of discovery, a thousand explosive tremors shot through her body.
Trailing kisses over her shoulder, scraping his teeth over the rise of her shoulder blades while his thumbs flicked the hardened buds of her nipples, Zack was relentless in his exploration. Shifting her body as though she were weightless, he ignored her broken words, her half-sobs, her half-moans. Whining in protest as his hands slipped away from her breasts, Rachel felt him lift her, carry her, laying her in the softness of his bed, surrounded by the comfort of his scent. She forced her eyes open to find him standing at the foot of the bed, one hand grasping the tall bedpost, eyes shining as an enigmatic little smile tugged at his lips. She stared at him through half-closed eyes, waiting, wondering . . . hoping . . . "Zack?"
He slowly, deliberately knelt on the bed, crawled toward her, his hands trailing up her calf, up her thigh, over her hip and along the hollow of her belly, flicking across her nipple as an almost painful ache surged through her, and she grasped his shoulders, pulled and pushed at him, willing him to help her, to save her.
He kissed her sweetly, calmly, his hands tangling in her hair as he tried to soothe her. Rachel's kiss was impatient, demanding. Zack's chuckle rumbled through her, captured between their lips. She gripped his biceps, tried to convey her need as she arched against him, writhed under him, whimpered softly. "Calm down, Ray," he murmured in her ear. "It's all right . . ."
"It's not," she insisted in a harsh whisper. "It hurts, Zack . . . kami, I hurt . . ."
He moaned in answer, heaved a sigh. "Damn . . . yer really trying to destroy me, aren't ya?"
She didn't understand what he meant. The question that rose to her lips was cut off with a vicious gasp as the heat of Zack's mouth closed over one breast; as his hand squeezed the other. Gently but firmly he drew on her, nuzzled against her as a smoldering burn ignited. Tongue flicking over the hardened peak, Zack's assault was tender but brutal, stripping away her sanity as her body reacted on instinct alone. She arched off the bed, uttered a sound somewhere between his name and a plea for help. He leaned to the side, freeing his other hand, lazily dragging his fingertips up and down her quivering stomach. Every nerve in her body reacted to him, centering around an escalating burn, a desire so fierce she felt like she was coming undone.
Scraping his teeth over her skin, wet, openmouthed kisses forging a path down the slope and up the rise to the flushed peak of her other breast, Zack chuckled, the reverberations rocking through her as she felt the last strands of reason slip away. Lost in a realm of sensation, nothing made sense to her except the touch of his hands, of his mouth, of his skin as it caressed her, as it left her breathless.
A strangled cry escaped her as his fingers slipped between her legs. The coil of nerves, of raw emotion, snapped and broke, set off a chain reaction of new sensation. Heat became energy, and energy became light. It all converged in her, surrounding her in a blissful repletion that shocked her, frightened her, comforted her. Through the fog of wonder, the sound of Zack's voice seemed too far away. She couldn't understand his words, his endearments. She felt him slide down toward the foot of the bed, felt his arms slip under her thighs, over her stomach as his hands closed over her breasts, as a damp heat invaded her.
Pushing herself up on her elbows and forcing her eyes open only to find him lying on his stomach between her spread thighs, Rachel started to ask him what he was doing. Flashing her a predatory grin as he ducked his head, as he flicked out his tongue, Rachel fell back, the harsh cry ripped from her as her world exploded again.
Shock was forgotten as he goaded her. Losing the sense of time and of space, the question of right and proper dissolved. Zack held her to him, pressed into her with his tongue, teased her with his lips, his teeth, forced her into the light again and again as she shivered, as she sobbed, as she crumbled and dissolved.
The next thing she knew, she was slowly opening her eyes. Cuddled against Zack's chest, held in the crook of his arm, he stroked her hair, smiled at her, kissed her forehead as he held her close. "Zack?"
He chuckled softly, pulled her just a little closer. He was wearing a pair of shorts, and his hair was damp. "Ya all right, Ray?"
She nodded slowly as she frowned in confusion. "How did you get all wet?"
"You must have passed out or fallen asleep. I took a shower. That's all."
"Oh . . ."
"Are you tired?" he asked gently.
Rachel shook her head. "No . . . That was really . . ."
He sighed when she faltered, squeezing her as he kissed her forehead again. "Yeah, it was," he agreed.
She frowned and leaned up on her shoulder. He pulled the sheet up to cover her. "Did we . . .? We didn't . . . "
Zack's smile faltered, and he dragged his hand over his face with a sigh. "We didn't go all the way," he told her. "I wouldn't . . . I couldn't . . ." He shook his head. "Even if I could, I wouldn't just do that. We'll still have time for that later."
She nodded slowly, digesting that for a moment before smiling shyly and daring a glance at him. He was staring at her with an unreadable expression. She reached up to soothe away the furrows between his eyebrows. "Zack, how about right now?"
He caught her hand and brought her knuckles to her lips. "Of course."
