You're His New Neighbor

Final

(Sorry for teasing y'all with chapter Five 🥲 here's my offering to make up for it 🤲🏼)

Music Rec: Wicked Game - Ursine Vulpine

"The old man isn't ready to turn in?" You teased him, "What did you have in mind then? As long as it involves getting out of these shoes and this dress, then I'm all for it."

You'd meant to add the part about changing into sweatpants instead, but when you looked back up at him, the words were sucked right out of your lungs with your breath. Sure, you'd seen him all night, your eyes had barely left him. But the way he was looking at you right then, coupled with just how damn good he looked in his uniform made you pause.

A grin tugged at the corner of Price's lips and he leaned back in his seat, watching you with fire that felt like it could strip away more than just the layers of your formal attire. "Well, if it's comfort you're after," he drawled, "I reckon we can find you something a bit more... cozy."

He pushed the car door open, stepping out into the cool night air. He rounded the vehicle with a confident grace and opened the passenger door for you, offering a hand to assist you out of the car.

The sliver of space between you as you stood was enough to make the air between you thrum with heat. He could feel the warmth radiating from your body, the scent of your perfume lingering like an invitation. For a moment, you just stood there, tension wrapping around you like a cocoon—intimate and undeniable.

He was the first to speak, "I've got a bottle of that Macallan back at mine," he mentioned casually, though the undertone suggested a wealth of other possibilities. "And I'm sure I can scrounge up one of my old PT shirts for you to slip into. Might be a bit big, but you'll drown in it in the best way."

His hand found its way to your back, and your pupils dilated, body leaning into the way he touched you without caring about the edges of the boundaries that were slowly fraying. "So, what do you say?"

His thumb grazed over your spine, making you shiver all over again. Fuck, he was making you melt. You had to will your legs to stay strong, praying that your knees stayed solid, "Sounds like a perfect end to the night."

You kept your voice even enough, hiding all the racing thoughts in your head. You. In his house again. In his shirt. He hadn't mentioned anything about letting you borrow pants... You pulled the pins out of your hair while you let him lead you across the street toward his house instead of yours.

Price watched your every move from a half step behind you, your hair tumbling down around your shoulders in a way that seemed to catch the moonlight itself. The act felt intimate, a prelude to the sort of evening together you were both needing.

Once you were through the door of his home, the sound of your heels hitting the floor marked the beginning of the end of the charade. The relief on your face was mirrored in the easing of his own posture; you were no longer on display, no longer performing. But the tension between you screamed anything but relaxation.

He led you right to his bedroom, his sanctuary. A place you'd only set foot in once before briefly to use his shower. This time though, you were guided to the full length mirror in the corner of his room.

The reflection staring back at you was a powerful image: him in his uniform, you in the dress that had made him want to break down every rule he'd put in place for himself after that night with the wine.

"Allow me," he murmured, a husky whisper while he stepped up behind you, wrapping the laces of the corset around his fingers. His movements were slow, teasing the knot open with a precision that kept the beast inside of him leashed, just for now.