Old, But Not That Old [Motough]

26. zealous [bethany]

The door to my dressing room closes behind us.

"I-" As I begin to talk, my words and my thoughts are cut short when Derek spins me around and kisses me passionately.

Gently leaning me backwards, Derek's arms wrap themselves around my torso and upper back and support my weight. He pulls away after a few seconds and looks into my eyes, trying to hide a smile. "I'm so freaking proud of you."

I rest my hands on his cheeks, biting my lip. "Thanks for teaching me how to dance."

"It has been my pleasure," he grins, pulling me back into a kiss.  His fingers drag up my back, making me flinch, in a good way.

My heart rate quickens and as Derek takes the kiss deeper, I smile at the wonderfully familiar taste of his lips.

Derek breaks the kiss and makes eye-contact with me. A small whine comes out of my mouth after he pulls away, and I slightly smirk at myself. Suddenly every thought in my mind is consumed with how much I crave him.

"Since we had planned to rehearse the 24-hour dance tonight and we don't have to worry about that anymore, we can whip out some Ed-Sheeran-music-video moves if you would like," Derek says. His voice is rich and hinting at being flirtatious. His hands lock behind my back as he gazes into my eyes.

"I would very much like that," I tell him.

"Then as soon as we change into something more comfortable, we can get right on that," Derek mutters.

I feel a strange sexual tension in the air, and I can't understand why, but the desire to kiss Derek again is overriding my brain. And by the way Derek is looking at me, I have a feeling that similar thoughts are shooting around in his mind.

Before I can think twice about it, I speak, seductively and with a bat of my eyelashes. "Would you help me?"

His eyes widen as I glance down at myself and then back up at him. Derek's hands reach up to the zipper of my jacket as he smirks. "I would love to help you."

We lock eye contact as he pulls the zipper free and takes the jacket off my shoulders. Underneath the jacket, I am wearing an army green tank-top that is cropped enough to show my stomach. Conveniently, the cut is also low enough to accent my bust. For some reason, this particular shirt makes me feel more confident and sexy, and I can't help but show it. I watch as Derek's eyes trail from my chest back up to my eyes. When our gaze meets, his cheeks flush and he bites his lip innocently.

"I think I'll just leave this shirt on," I mutter, purposely messing with him. 

He glaces at me and shakes his head, smiling. "I see what you're doing."

"What's that?" I ask, stepping closer to him. "It's just a comfortable shirt."

"It also looks incredibly sexy on you," he says, simply, with no amount of flirtation in his voice. His statement is almost accusatory, and I take advantage of being the seductive one for once.

"Thank you." I reach up and pull my hair out of the bun that it was in for the show, shaking my head to let my long waves fall into place.

"Damn girl, what are you trying to do?" Derek inquires, trying to hide a grin.

"Nothing," I protest, innocently. My hands reach up and begin to lift Derek's jacket off his shoulders. "Would you like some help too? I feel like I owe you..."

Derek watches me intently and I am loving this feeling of driving him slightly insane. "You know, I think you do."

After I lift his black t-shirt over his head, he laughs. "You.. are..."