Re: Dress Shop
Her head shook, a tumble of dark hair in response to the question. "It's not, I promise." Her words were as soft as they'd ever been, confidence chased away by so many other things. And then there was a hand in her hair, drawing more shivers along the back of her neck and making it a challenge to focus on words. "She's better than I am. Prettier. She's just..."
And there, her thoughts were derailed and lost on the face of the briefest kiss pressed to her mouth. It was a nearly foreign sensation for her, and she froze, uncertain how to respond. And so she did nothing other that try to catch her breath after it was done. It hadn't even been very deep or intense, but it was enough to set her off-balance.
But not as off-balance as the hand on her back. Lower than her back. And she knew, when she thought about it (whichever wasn't often at all) how much she craved touch at times. Like her body needed it more than anything else. But even that didn't prepare her for the responsiveness of the body she now found herself in. The hand easily earned itself another spine-long shiver as they began to move. And maybe she wasn't expecting this, any of this, so she couldn't be blamed for not realizing the next words were coming. And it was a mark of how truly startled she was that even the body's normal grace couldn't save her from stumbling in shock for several steps.
"It's not my suit," she insisted, the quiet desperation once again something throaty. "It's not my body!"