“How drunk are you?” I teased.
“Drunk on Champagne? Barely. Drunk on you? For the rest of time.” Rusty pressed a kiss to my shoulder, handed his jacket to me to hang up, and twirled away into the living room.
I laughed at his sass and added his jacket to the hanger, but my heart was full and light with his words. He might be teasing, but I knew he was sincere, too.
“Then how about you get a taste of me?” I suggested.
Rusty fluttered his eyelashes outrageously as he leaned on the doorway of the living room. “I have no idea what you could possibly be suggesting. You’ll have to spell it out slowly, and preferably with words like you dirty slut and I’m going to fuck you slow until you’re begging.”
The ease with which the words dripped from his lips made me growl and move in to grab him, but he twirled out of my hold and trotted for the bedroom.
God, was I ever going to. I’d do everything he asked me to, and then some.
I gave chase, but he was more nimble. “And!” Rusty announced, breathless and eyes shining as he reached the room and turned to face me, walking backward toward the bed.
I tried to make a grab for his waist, but Rusty held up a finger and I stopped in my tracks.
“And,” he repeated himself, pointing at the bed. “I owe you a dance first.”
I gulped and closed the bedroom door, then passed him to sit on the edge of the bed. “Music?” I whispered.
Rusty nodded his approval. “Turn that thing to radio mode,” he pointed at my old-fashioned alarm clock/CD player hybrid. “And let me warn you that, as a condition of staying here, I’ll be updating it to the 21st century at the earliest opportunity.”
I snorted and fiddled with the dials until the radio came on.
“That one,” Rusty approved when a slow, fluid beat came through the airwaves. It was a song I vaguely recognized, but couldn’t have put words to.
Rusty clearly knew it, though. His eyes hooded, hair wildly out of place, lips parted, he started moving. He swayed on the spot, just the sensual rhythm of his body pulling my attention in.
Then his body twisted, turning a quarter? Half? I didn’t know the technical words that slipped from him when he was teaching me. But his body was side-on to me now, his face still turned to look at me.
Now my eyes could rove hungrily from his face down his body, over the firm curve of his ass. One arm flung back, I could even make out his chest and stomach. My cock throbbed in my pants, hard and needy. I remembered all those times dancing together, grinding against each other until the ecstasy was sharp and urgent.
Rusty rolled his head forward and around, flinging one arm up and around, spinning around twice and ending up facing away from me.
He unbuttoned his shirt, but his head was bowed now. He flung open the sides and then brought his arms back. His shirt slid down, slowly revealing the nape of his neck, and then his shoulder blades.
I gulped hard, a sudden wave of emotion rolling through me. There was something he was trying to say, and I was missing the meaning for the details. I stopped trying to keep track of what he was doing and started watching.
Rusty was revealing himself to me, dragging out every step to build the tension. Already, I was flushed with need—not just to make love, but also to touch him, to drink in that easy way he lived in his body, so assured and so full of joy.
I wanted to kiss him from head to toe until he squirmed, his lithe body twisting this way and that as little, whimpering moans fled from his lips.
Indeed, the way he moved was sex on legs, but he also watched me—turned himself this way and that like I was the anchor, or the north on his compass. It wasn’t just a show for me to watch, it was a show for me.
A show of Rusty’s heart.
I licked my lips and groaned as he slowly circled his hips, his upper body perfectly still, and rotated to face me. His hands slid down his neck and over his collarbone, fingers splayed wide.
“Fuck,” I breathed out as his hands stopped on his chest, his thumbs catching the peaks of his nipples and flicking across them. My body throbbed in answer, my dick twitching with anticipation.
“Getting impatient?” Rusty’s voice was low and knowing. “I love seeing you so hard and needy. Show me how much you love the view.” His gaze wandered down south, telling me exactly what he wanted.
I whimpered and unfastened my trousers, tugging open the zipper before I wrestled the button out. Once I pushed my underwear down, my cock popped free.
My shaft was hard and hot, the tip already wet. I ran my finger over the slit, spreading the wetness around the aching head. Even this much sensation rocked me to the core.
Now I wasn’t just the one watching—I was being watched. I loved knowing that Rusty was watching me, perhaps even daydreaming about me inside him.
Rusty was unfastening his trousers, still swaying on the spot in front of me. “You look so good,” he purred, writhing closer to me as he stepped out of his trousers.
His cock pushed his underwear out so far that I caught a glimpse of his shaft through the leg hole, and I could make out every detail of the head against the thin fabric.
“Please,” I whimpered, fisting my cock in a tight grip. I stroked myself as slowly as I could manage, but my self-control was slipping.
I needed Rusty.
He understood. He knelt over me, cupping my cheeks in his soft palms and kissing me until I couldn’t even catch a breath. Fire exploded in my veins and under my skin every time his skin brushed mine.
I grabbed his hips and pulled him into my lap until my cock touched the bulge of his underwear. Damnit, I needed to feel his cock, not these! “This,” I panted, tugging at the waistband impatiently.
Rusty gave a deep chuckle and stood up. “On the bed,” he ordered, peeling his underwear off and throwing it aside. “And tell me what you want tonight.”
“I want to make love,” I breathed out as I crawled up the bed to make space for him. “I want to feel you all around me, as deep as I can go. Until we can’t go any deeper.” Then I remembered his delicious words just a few minutes ago and grinned. “And once I’m done making love to you, I want to pound you like the sexy, dirty little slut I know you are.”
“Yes,” Rusty whimpered and threw himself onto the bed, on top of me. He kissed me hard and fast, all restraint gone.
Naked at last.
I locked my arms around his body and pushed up into him until our bellies trapped our cocks together. Every time he pushed his weight down into me, a shower of sparks erupted in my belly. My cock twitched as his abs slid over my hard, aching rod.
“Since you’re so full of energy,” I teased, “I’ll make you ride me first. How about that, my love?”
“Oh, how mean. Making me do all the work!” Rusty squirmed again, complaining with his whole body except for the throbbing erection that pressed into me.
“It’s not that hard. Loose knees,” I advised him sagely, and Rusty burst out laughing.
“You have a dry wit hidden under all that seriousness,” he accused me. “And hopefully some nice, wet lube in all this bedroom…”
“Bedside table,” I told him, blushing.
Rusty made a grab for the condoms and lube, and I got to admire his flexibility.
“Do you want to see me finger myself?” Rusty teased, wiggling the tube in the air in front of my face. “Would that turn you on, watching me please myself? Because I got hot as hell watching you touch yourself.”