A/N: First, you guys are amazing! To the anonymous reader who says she (or he, I suppose, it's always possible) isn't a St. Berry shipper – your comments are possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I'm beyond flattered, because I *know* how important fans' ships are to them.
Second, I am throwing a HUGE temper tantrum right now because of a double whammy of bad news I got today. First (deep breath) NO NEW YORK SPIN OFF! But Lea's coming back for Season 4, which to me means that Rachel is probably NOT getting into NYADA, which I find an absolute TRAVESTY, and I'm throwing the hugest toddler-style temper tantrum right about now. Second (and this news is a little older but I just found out today), Lea's been passed over for the part of Eponine in the film they're just now casting of Les Mis, and not even for someone with better musical theater chops, no. For fucking TAYLOR SWIFT. Why? Why does the entertainment world HATE ME? (Temper tantrum escalating...)
Coughs. Okay, I'm just going to go pout in a corner now...
Dare
Just as he'd previously promised, Jesse was impossibly tender with her during the actual act of lovemaking—she couldn't bring herself to call it sex or fucking, not when he touched and kissed her as if she were something precious, his hands reverent, body gentle. The fierce thrusts he'd used on her mouth were nowhere to be found now, replaced with long, languid strokes that had her trembling and gasping at the sensation and overwhelming beauty of it all.
He was marvelously good at this, but she couldn't help but believe that technique alone didn't account for how he made her feel. No, there was something incredibly intimate about the way he kissed her and the way he caught her gaze, as if reminding her over and over again that he was here with her completely, one hundred percent, and they were on this journey together. It wasn't just about pleasure, but about the coming together of two different people into a beautiful and complicated whole.
And yes, it hurt a little bit at first as her virgin body adjusted to the feel of something bigger than a finger or tampon inside her for the first time, but she was more than okay with the transitory discomfort, especially since his mouth was on hers and she was finally, finally getting the kisses she'd been yearning for. Deep, consuming—hot and passionate, immediate and so, so perfect. She'd kissed him on his terms and, just as he'd promised last night, what she gained was so much more than what she surrendered. She kissed him back, his mouth sweet and giving, filling a need she hadn't realized was so deep. The intimacy of that touch as his mouth moved over hers, with hers, was divine. She curled her fingers tighter into his hair, slid them down the sweat-slick skin of his back, grabbed his ass and pulled him deeper into her.
"You'll be the death of me," Jesse murmured, his mouth dropping kisses along the delicate line of her jaw, the quivering expanse of her throat. "But what a way to go."
The torture was delicious—slow, sweet movements of their bodies, giving and taking, hands and mouths everywhere, learning what felt best to each other. Rachel loved his mouth anywhere on her body, really, but she liked best when he kissed her lips, his tongue lingering against hers, their breath shared. She found that she liked the gentle way he showed her how to move with him, his hands moving and shaping her body like clay, his voice softly encouraging, with hints derived from dance classes so they made complete sense to her. She'd also learned quickly that Jesse nearly lost control when she squeezed her muscles around him as he was buried inside her, and he loved it when she threaded her fingers through his damp curls and nibbled just the right way on his soft lips.
"Such a beautiful girl," he whispered against the shell of her ear, stroking back into her with a deft motion that rubbed against her clit tortuously. "Every inch of you. God, Rachel, you have no idea."
Oh, she was pretty sure she did. Nothing could compare to this—nothing. While the dramatic part of her still somewhat longed for candlelight and roses, she knew that there was no way a first time could possibly be better than this. He was giving her the intimacy she craved, the emotion she knew her exes could never match. Most guys were terrified of that sort of connection, and she understood that. But not Jesse. Intimacy had never frightened him, and he was unafraid to show it now.
When she came, it was pure bliss. Jesse was wrapped around her, his mouth swallowing her low cries, his arms gripping her tightly as he pressed up inside her two, three more times, quickly following her in release. She breathed heavily against his shoulder, her arms wound around his back, her thighs cupping his hips and keeping him close to her. In that moment she felt intensely vulnerable, and wanted nothing more than to stay where she was, in the comforting circle of Jesse's arms. She found that she liked the feel of his weight pressing her down against the bed, liked the security of that pressure, and she nuzzled his throat gently, smelling sex and skin and clean sweat, deciding that it was possibly the best scent she'd ever come across.
They stayed like that for several long minutes, Jesse petting her cheek with one thumb, lazy strokes that told her as clear as words that he was still here with her, still loving her. His heartbeat raced against hers, chest to chest, and she could still feel him buried inside her—exactly where he belonged.
When he shifted, preparing to move, she only clutched him tighter. "No," she protested, wrapping her legs around his hips, pulling him close again.
"Shh, baby, it's okay," he soothed, leaning back enough to find her eyes. His were pale again, the dark thunderstorm now past, and there was a gentle light in them that Rachel found she fully understood without having to ask what it meant. "I know—I understand."
"Please," she said, not knowing exactly what she needed but very certain that she did not want him to move, "please, don't go."
"I'm not going anywhere without you," he promised. "Not now—not ever." He kissed her swollen lips gently, sending a fresh tingle down her spine. "You trust me, remember?"
Yes. Yes, she did trust him, but that didn't mean she wanted to let him go. She locked her arms behind his neck stubbornly, and Jesse chuckled.
"Okay, sweet girl," he said, dropping another kiss on her mouth as he slipped out of her and maneuvered their bodies into a sitting position. "You've made your point." He slid his arms around her, holding her as he stood, and carried her into the bathroom.
Rachel had been teased for her small size her entire life, but she decided that the benefits more than made up for the drawbacks as Jesse was able to continue holding her even as he maneuvered the knobs on the bathtub, turning on the hot water. It was a beautiful deep clawfoot tub, and Rachel wouldn't at all have minded a soak, but she held onto Jesse as he tried to lower her in.
"No," she said stubbornly, hugging herself tight to his bare chest.
"Silly girl." He kissed her hair and squeezed her tightly. "I'm going to get some water and come right back here, I promise."
"Promise?"
"Promise." He smiled. "I just got you back. You think I'm going to let you out of my sight willingly, or for long?"
"Just checking." Rachel let him lower her into the quickly-filling tub, biting back a hiss as the hot water came in contact with her tender flesh. She relaxed as the sting faded and Jesse kissed the top of her head, leaving her alone in the bathroom for a moment.
The minute he released her, she wanted him back. Not that she thought he was abandoning her, but this was such a new experience, and she wanted the confirmation of his presence, the comfort of his arms around her, holding her close. Sharing her body and her emotions so deeply with another person made her feel extremely vulnerable, and while she trusted Jesse—truly, she did—she wanted a little time to sit with her feelings and with him, knowing he was there for her however she needed him.
He returned almost immediately, handing her a water bottle she recognized from the many dance classes they'd taken together. It was chilly from the refrigerator, and she took a quick sip as he settled into the other side of the tub, twining his legs with hers, maneuvering carefully around the faucet. Almost as soon as he was settled, Rachel pulled her legs up under her and slid forward, settling in his arms as the water deepened around them, tucking her legs close to her chest and sitting the wrong way in the tub. She fidgeted like a cat determined to find just the right spot before curling into Jesse's willing arms, settling back into both him and the heated water.
Jesse reached up behind his head to turn off the water a minute later, then took the water bottle and offered it to her once more. "Drink," he urged, stroking her hip under the water with his other hand. "Can't have you getting dehydrated, pet."
"I'm not your pet," she mumbled around a mouthful of water, feeling her body relax deliciously into the feel of the bath and his strong, supporting arms.
"You're my everything," he said calmly, "and that includes my pet, if I want you to be."
"Pet," Rachel muttered, and she turned her head and bit his shoulder.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to bite?" Jesse mock-sighed, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I'm going to start doing it back to see how you like it."
Rachel brushed her hair aside and tilted her head, exposing the tender expanse of her throat. "Right here, please," she said, tracing her fingers down the soft line of flesh.
Jesse growled, his hands suddenly hard on her body, and he dipped his head and bit firmly. Rachel hissed, loving the sharp squeeze of his teeth and then the tugging suction as he alternately nibbled and sucked at her skin. He clearly intended to leave a mark, which was what she'd wanted to begin with, so she wasn't complaining. Realistically, she couldn't be with him every second of every day...but a mark like that could.
"You're going to have to cover that around your dads," he murmured, kissing a damp line up her throat and across her jaw, finding her mouth again and nibbling at her lower lip.
"Worth it," she breathed before kissing him again.
This was exactly the sensation she'd craved—the perfection of Jesse's kisses and the way he held her captive with nothing but his mouth, able to make her forget everything else in those few precious seconds.
"How do you feel?" he asked when he finally released her, pressing a careful kiss to her forehead before tucking her close against him once again.
Rachel considered the question from all angles before she answered. A simple "fine" or "good" would not suffice—not with Jesse. Truthfully, she didn't know that she'd ever physically felt better. She was still flying high on a post-coital chemical rush, her body softly buzzing with the aftermath of pleasure even as it told her it was thoroughly exhausted—the good kind of exhausted, like after a particularly fulfilling workout. Emotionally, she was...peaceful. There were still questions that needed answering, stories that needed to be told, but she found that she wasn't afraid anymore. Jesse was hers, and the rest of it would come in time.
"Perfect," she said finally, flicking her eyes up to meet his. "I love you, Jesse."
His smile was tender, and it went straight to her heart. "I love you, too." He brushed at her bangs, then ran his hand down her arm and found her hand, playing with her fingers. "You're perfect, Rachel. We're perfect together."
She had to agree.
They shared sips from the water bottle in silence for a while, Rachel lost in her own thoughts, her head resting against Jesse's shoulder as he stroked her skin gently with his hands. She was tired, but not overly so anymore—her mental exhaustion at school had lifted once she stormed off campus, intent on returning to Jesse. At first she had intended to tell him what had happened, what Finn had done and therefore what her teachers thought, warning him that his plan might backfire badly if he was found out. But he'd immediately seen the wound on her hand—the wound he'd have to re-dress, now, as she'd accidentally dunked it in the bath water—and had insisted on tending it before anything else, and then of course one thing had led to another...
"Did you mean it?" she asked, her voice slow and a little sleepy, tipping her head up to gaze at him from her spot on his shoulder.
"I don't say things I don't mean." Jesse touched his wet finger to her lips. "But what, exactly, are you talking about?"
"What you said about me and a transformation. You never really explained about that."
Jesse dropped his head to kiss her gently. Rachel smiled against his lips, beyond glad that that barrier was now broken and she could once again feel his mouth against hers whenever she pleased. "Yes," he said, "I meant it, and I even had a lesson plan for today. I didn't expect you to come storming back quite so soon, however."
"Finn made me mad." Rachel scowled, remembering.
"You can tell me all about it over lunch," Jesse promised. "I really don't want to talk about him while we're naked together, if you don't mind."
Rachel understood perfectly.
"Do you want to talk about last night, instead?" He stroked her damp hair, easing his fingers gently through the tangled strands.
"It has to do with Finn again."
"I see." Jesse looked vaguely amused. "You know it's over between you two, right?"
"You said you didn't want to talk about him while we were naked."
Jesse's expression turned stern and he shifted his grip, turning her to face him. "It's over," he said firmly. "You're mine, and I don't share."
"I'd never ask you to." Rachel touched his cheek, feeling the hard muscle of his jaw beneath her fingers. "But you do know I'm technically cheating with you, right? He's my boyfriend."
"Only in word," Jesse said with a shrug. He pinned her with a penetrating gaze that she was powerless to tear her eyes away from. "You're mine. You said so yourself, and you gave to me just now something that can never be taken back or given to anyone else."
"I wasn't arguing with you." Rachel kissed him softly. "You were right, you know."
"I usually am." He relaxed his grip and Rachel snuggled back against him, breathing in the smell of wet skin, luxuriating in the feel of being held like this. He was mercurial, yes, and it was almost impossible to know what he might do next. But that was only one of his charms, as far as she was concerned, and the possessive way he staked his claim was...exhilarating. Maybe she wasn't supposed to like it, but she did. After being ignored and ridiculed for so long, it felt incredibly good to know that someone like Jesse wanted her so badly. She was powerless to resist that look in his eyes, or the way he said mine with such infinite authority. "But," he added, "what in particular was I right about this time?"
Rachel smiled. His blatant arrogance might be a turn-off for most people, but for her it was anything but. "You told me yesterday that Finn could never make me feel the way you do."
Jesse snorted indelicately. "Of course he can't." Apparently dissing his rival was acceptable while naked.
"But you also said that I didn't want him to, regardless of whether he could or not." Rachel stared at the line of his leg under the water, feeling the heat of a blush steal over her face. "You were right about that, too. Can...can I make a confession?"
"Of course." Jesse squeezed her carefully for a moment, a soft hug that absolutely melted her. "I want you to feel comfortable telling me anything. A relationship like ours has the potential to be needs brutal honesty in order to survive."
Rachel bit her lip. She'd tried to have that with Finn—total honesty—but it ended up not working. Maybe with Jesse, things would be better. "I joined the celibacy club this year."
Instead of an amused snort, she received a full-out laugh this time. "I'm sorry, sweet girl," he said, still chuckling, "but that's one pledge you absolutely just shattered."
"Tell me about it." Rachel shifted against him. "I did it because I thought I wasn't ready to...to go there. I thought joining the club would make Finn understand that. But it wasn't that I didn't want that sort of physical connection. I just didn't want it with him." Her voice faltered as emotion rose up in her throat. "You showed me that."
"I know." He tipped her chin up with gentle fingers, and his eyes were soft when they met hers. "My beautiful girl. I told you yesterday that you didn't think you wanted my touch but I hoped to show you differently. I knew if you let yourself give in, I could show you how great we could be together."
"Great doesn't come close." Rachel let herself smile up at him. Talking about sex had never bothered her; it was the actual physical act itself that she hadn't thought she was ready for. He'd shown her differently, and now that she was over her initial hesitation, she was glad he'd pushed her. "Does it get better than this? Because if you say it does, I'm not sure I'll believe you."
Jesse cocked his head to the side, giving her a considering look. "Better?" he asked. "I...don't know about better. There are different kinds of sex, certainly—positions, emotions, intensity—but I'm not sure it gets better than what we just experienced together." He slipped his wet hand over her face, tracing his fingertips along the line of her jaw before tucking her hair behind her ear. His eyes lingered over her features with a care and reverence she'd never seen in another boy's gaze, and it tugged deeply at her heart. "Knowing it was your first time—how you surrendered to me, letting me give you what you needed—" He licked his lips. "I don't think it gets any better than that."
"Do you think we can continue to perform to standard, since the bar was set so high?"
"The two of us together?" Jesse's smile turned into a cocky smirk. "Definitely." He kissed her softly, his hands sliding over her slippery body with gentle, teasing intent. "There's so much yet to teach you—for us to learn together."
"Such as?"
"Well, you learned to appreciate a good spanking," Jesse said, his smirk growing wider. "Maybe we should try something else along those lines."
"Like what?" Rachel pressed. She didn't think her body was up for anything more at the moment, but he had definitely piqued her curiosity.
"Insatiable, are we?" Jesse chuckled, slipping his arms around her once more and pecking her nose with a playful kiss. "How about this—you do some research and come to me with an idea tomorrow, and we'll try it." He held up a finger. "But not until after school. If you keep skipping classes we're both going to get in trouble."
"I claim existential crisis today," Rachel griped as he shifted her away from his body and reached for the bar of green soap in the soap dish. He lathered his hands but, instead of turning them on himself as she expected, he began to run the slippery lather across her wet skin. She made a pleased sound, relaxing into the sensual massage as he began to wash from her neck down, lavishing attention on each inch of skin he encountered.
"And that's fine," he murmured, the clean smell of soap surrounding them as he worked the lather into her back, finding the tension she carried along her spine and deftly working at the knots until they all released. "You're intelligent, and one day isn't going to hurt you. Much as I always want you with me, however, it's best not to make a habit of it."
"I know," Rachel said with a soft sigh. She was willing to bet that cutting class would be overlooked today because of her conversation with Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury, but if she kept it up eventually word would get back to her dads, and that wasn't something she and Jesse needed right now.
"Also," Jesse added, "I think I'm going to have to instill some structure into our time together." He chuckled at her whine of protest when his hands left her body to gather more soap. "I have very little willpower when it comes to you, as you might have noticed."
"The thought had occurred to me, yes." Rachel closed her eyes in bliss as his soapy hands slid up her torso, covering her breasts. "Don't stop," she whimpered, tipping her head back against his shoulder. "Please."
"I have no intentions of stopping," he said, and one hand slid below the waterline to touch her folds, finding her clit and circling it gently. She bit her lip, her breathing picking up again as he attached his mouth to her neck, one hand pinching and flicking a hardened nipple as the other teased her below the waist. "But if we're going to successfully complete your transformation this week, we need to learn some self-restraint. To that end, any physical pleasure will be a reward left for after our work for the day is complete."
"After today," Rachel hedged, writhing against him and hearing the water in the tub slosh as she moved. "If you stop now, I'll bite you."
"I came twice today," Jesse said with a chuckle, nibbling the sore spot he'd already marked on her throat. "It's only fair I let you, too." His hand quickened on her clit, drawing wet circles that made her twist and shudder against him. "I usually have better control and can stay focused through a girl's orgasm, but watching and feeling you come undone around me, below me..." He shook his head against her, drawing in a ragged breath. "With you, I have no control."
It was so, so gratifying to hear him say that. Rachel came with a sharp cry, her body clenching, her muscles quivering as he drew her release beautifully from her, his skilled hands playing her body like an instrument.
"I can't explain what it is you do to me," he murmured in her ear, his hands rubbing softly at her skin. "I only know I feel it, and you do, too. That's why I had to come back to you, Rachel, despite everything bad that happened. I need you with me."
Rachel nestled back into his arms, holding onto him just as he held onto her. "I'm sorry, Jesse," she said quietly, listening to the intimate sound of their shared heartbeats. "I know I've said it before, but it's still true. I never meant to hurt you with that stupid video. I just wanted..." She trailed off and shook her head, frowning at the bathwater. She knew she didn't need to elaborate—Jesse knew what she'd wanted. He understood her motivations, no matter how much he disagreed with what she'd done.
"I'm sorry, too." His arms tightened around her, and she felt his lips press against her hair. "I, unfortunately, did want to hurt you at the time. That doesn't mean I wasn't sorry after."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Always."
Rachel heard the smile in his voice, which made her smile too, despite the difficult subject matter of their conversation. She could never talk to Finn like this—talking made him nervous. He never asked for her opinions on things, and when she tried to ask for his he often grew flustered, unable to give her a well thought out or meaningful answer.
But Jesse wasn't like that. Jesse listened, and even when he didn't agree with her, he let her have her own opinions without putting her down. They could debate or share with the understanding of mutual respect and courtesy, and Rachel loved that about him.
"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if I hadn't made that video?" she asked, trailing her hand in the water. "Whether you would still have left for spring break with Vocal Adrenaline? Whether you would have gone back to them for Regionals?"
"Only all the time." Jesse tucked her head under his chin, and she swore she could almost hear the sound of him thinking, if there was such a thing. He found her hand under the water and held it, twining their fingers in the way she liked best. "I...guess it's impossible to know for sure. I take full responsibility for my actions, Rachel, and I need you to know that. I don't blame you for my own mistakes. But I was angry, and hurt, and I acted on those emotions rather than a more rational mindset. It's my one true regret—you are my one regret." He shifted, his free hand stroking her stomach as she listened to his careful words. "I was happy with you last year, but I didn't really understand what you meant to me until I lost you. It took that loss to really comprehend everything you'd become to me, even in so short a time."
"So you think you would have done it anyway?" Rachel considered that alternative, rolling it around in her head a little. Perhaps surprisingly, she wasn't angry about it. It actually felt...a little freeing. Though Jesse said he didn't blame her for what he'd done, a part of her was better able to absolve herself, knowing that her actions might not have had any effect on the final outcome. "I'm not going to fly off the handle," she said. "I'm just trying to understand."
"I know," Jesse said, "and I understand. I just...I don't know what I would have done, sweet girl. I'm a damn sight better than Frankenteen, but I'm still an idiot sometimes, and I'll be the first to tell you that." He kissed her gently. "I wanted that fourth national title and, to be honest, it would have been very difficult to say no to Shelby. She always gets what she wants, and at the time what she wanted was me."
"Leading her team to another national victory." Rachel tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but she didn't think she was entirely successful. It hurt to know that her mother had been behind Jesse's appearance in her life, and it hurt even more to know that both of them had rejected her—brutally so—in favor of something or someone else. In Jesse's case, that something else had been a national title, but in Shelby's case it had been another daughter, a new one she'd found after deciding that she didn't want to be part of Rachel's life.
"I don't know why she did what she did, baby," Jesse said quietly, his arms tightening around her. "I probably knew her as well as anyone, but I can't answer those questions for you. I wish I could."
"I know." Rachel chewed lightly on her lip, letting the feel of Jesse's arms soothe her. She would probably always have questions about Shelby and her motivations, but the wound didn't seem so pressing with Jesse back in her life. Her fathers were wonderful parents, and Jesse didn't sound like he was willing to let her go anytime soon. That was enough—more than enough. She nestled into his embrace and kissed his shoulder lightly. "Can we put the past in the past now? Focus on the future instead?"
"That," Jesse said, squeezing her tightly, "sounds like an excellent idea. Except for one thing."
"What's that?"
"Your transformation." Jesse shifted in the tub, maneuvering their bodies until he could look into her eyes, and he smiled at her with a wicked gleam she knew all too well.
"What about it?" she asked, seeing the challenge in his face and feeling her own instinct rise to meet it.
"Your choir director had the right idea about rescuing some things from their own reputations." His smile widened. "In recognition of that, you and I are going to re-make your Run, Joey, Run video."
Jesse fed her soup and peanut butter crackers for lunch, Rachel wrapped in his black bathrobe, her freshly-washed hair damp and shining. She swallowed the ibuprofen he offered her for any lingering aches and pains, knowing they would probably manifest later in the afternoon or evening. With all the exertion they'd asked of her body in the past few hours, the inevitable backlash was coming. Still, she couldn't find it in herself to regret a moment of it. Jesse did things to her that she'd never dreamed of experiencing—made her want things she didn't think she'd ever desire. But it was like...like he found those hidden parts of her, parts she didn't even know existed, and coaxed them into the light. He didn't look down on her for it, either, but accepted every part of her just as she was.
After finishing their bath, Jesse had insisted on rubbing some sweet-smelling stuff into her bottom and thighs—an act that almost led to another round on the bed—and had promised her that while her skin was pink and tender, there wasn't a hint of bruising. Rachel had had enough bruises to know by feel that he was telling the truth and, though she didn't say anything, she secretly rather liked how extra-sensitive her flesh was after all of Jesse's attention. It didn't hurt to sit, but the unaccustomed tenderness was oddly titillating.
Jesse seemed to know it, too, despite her silence, and he took every opportunity to brush his hand or body against her backside, the nubby texture of the terrycloth robe adding an extra layer of sensation to each touch. She made the wry comment that he never used to be so forward about touching her, to which Jesse only laughed and landed a light, playful swat to her ass.
After lunch they settled in the office to storyboard ideas for the new music video. Rachel didn't know when anyone might see it—this wasn't a glee club assignment anymore, after all—but working with Jesse was too much fun to pass up. He was intensely focused, unlike any of her current teammates, and he encouraged her input while clearly having his own vision for the project. This would be a far darker and more intense video than her initial creation, and he gently but firmly nixed all of the creative fades and transitions that she had forced Artie to put into the original video. Gone were her angel costume and Sandy Ryerson's cameo, and in their places instead Jesse substituted a much more tempting wardrobe and some truly spectacular stage makeup that made her look thoroughly battered.
"It's a terrible song, you know," he said, tapping a pencil against his mouth as they leaned over the giant piece of poster paper they were using to brainstorm. "But there's a core truth to the situation, which I think is what David Geddes was aiming for. He missed, obviously, but if we thread the needle just right, maybe we can hit the bullseye."
"Maybe?" Rachel raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You mean you don't know?"
"The arts are a risk," Jesse said with a shrug. "You know that. If there's no risk involved, it's not art."
That was an interesting statement, and Rachel decided she'd have to think about it for a while before providing her own take on the situation. Nobody had ever asked her to define art for herself, and she'd never thought to do it. It was something she felt—quite possibly something that defied explanation. "Something that happens as a direct result of something else," she said idly, reaching down to make a notation on the storyboard.
"What's that now?"
She grinned up at him. "Ipso facto. You told me I didn't know what it meant. It means something that happens as a direct result of something else."
Jesse's laugh was warm and bright. "I expected you to call me on that the minute I said it."
"Well, I was more concerned about what you were doing with your hands at that precise moment."
"Remind me again—what was I doing?" He smirked at her an instant before he pounced, rolling them across the floor.
"Jesse!" she shrieked, "you said no more of that—we have to work!"
"Master's prerogative—I get to change the rules whenever I like." He ducked his head, kissing his way along her collarbone as she tried to push him off of her. "Call me your master."
"No!" Rachel giggled as his hands found the ticklish area along her sides. "Haven't we been through this already today?"
"Yes, and you're too stubborn to give me what I want," he said, fumbling with the sash of the robe.
"I already gave you plenty of what you want," Rachel said drolly, pulling away and brandishing her pencil like a weapon. "Don't push it, St. James."
"Now who needs a lesson on how this master/slave thing is supposed to work?" He kissed her mouth, then sat back and sighed petulantly. "You're awfully bossy for a slave."
"And you're awfully bossy for an actor," Rachel said, making a face at him before she bent over her work again. "Are you sure you don't secretly want to be a director instead?"
"One goal at a time, Rach. One goal at a time." He kissed the top of her head, then moved back to his own side of the paper. "Speaking of our arrangement, how did choosing your clothes go today? I see that you're still looking a little more Britney, though you added some pink to your ensemble."
"I missed the pink," Rachel admitted, "and I actually spent a lot of time agonizing over my choices last night, but this morning when I went home to change it wasn't hard at all."
"Why's that?"
Rachel shrugged. "I...guess I got all my worrying out the night before. It was like...I couldn't remember why it felt like such a big deal anymore. I've always liked how I look, and it's only after other people give their opinions that I second-guess myself. And I guess maybe that influenced my choices somewhat, because I like the positive attention that the more revealing clothes gets me. But...the fact that I like the way I feel when I dress sexier means it's my choice, right?"
"it's an interesting conundrum, certainly," Jesse agreed. "I only wanted you to think about your choices and enjoy how you dressed—make sure you were doing it for the right reasons. I'd say you passed the test with flying colors."
"Pink can be hot," Rachel said with a smile.
"It can indeed." Jesse tapped her bottom, making it perfectly clear what he was talking about.
"Scandalous!"
"Always."
Rachel opened her mouth to throw another teasing comment his way, but before she could voice the words, the sound of her buzzing phone filled the silence. She grabbed for it, her eyes widening and face paling as she saw the caller ID. "It's my dads."
A/N: Mwah! Till next time, duckies! (Still pouting, though...)
