360 – Age Conquers Beauty
Rhona led Brandy by the hand through the maze of fabric and chaos in her studio. Brandy's eyes inadvertently drifted downward to the sway of
Rhona led Brandy by the hand through the maze of fabric and chaos in her studio. Brandy's eyes inadvertently drifted downward to the sway of Rhona's hips. It was hard not to notice; Rhona moved with a languid, almost feline grace, her torn jeans hugging her curves in all the right places. Her tattered band tee was loose enough to be casual but fitted just enough to hint at the lean, toned body underneath. What seemed like a thrown-together outfit was actually an evil weapon aimed right at Brandy's concentration, and Rhona absolutely knew it.
Brandy felt her cheeks flush, warmth spreading up her neck that had nothing to do with the room's stuffy atmosphere. She cleared her throat, trying to focus on anything else, but her gaze kept flicking back to the way Rhona moved, effortlessly confident, every step a subtle sway that drew Brandy's eyes like a magnet.
She nearly tripped over a stack of fabric bolts, catching herself just in time and hoping Rhona hadn't noticed. But the designer had felt the tug on her hand and glanced back, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised, a faint, knowing smirk on her lips.
"Careful," Rhona drawled, her voice rich and teasing. "Wouldn't want you to break a leg in here."
Brandy swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "Yeah, I wouldn't want that. Need all my limbs to… uh… carry cheesecake."
Rhona's smirk widened, her gaze lingering on Brandy just a little too long before she turned away, her messy waves of dark hair bouncing as she moved. Brandy tried not to stare, but damn, even the back of Rhona's neck was attractive. She could see a faint sliver of tattoo ink peeking out from under the collar of her shirt, dark lines curling along the nape of her neck before disappearing beneath the fabric.
"What's that tattoo of?" Brandy blurted out before she could stop herself.
Rhona's hand went to her neck instinctively, fingers brushing the spot where ink met skin. Her smile softened, a flicker of nostalgia crossing her face. "An old memory. From a time when I was young and stupid and thought ink could keep someone close."
Brandy's heart gave an unexpected lurch, a pang of empathy hitting her square in the chest. There was a story there, one that was probably painful, and she wanted to hear it. But Rhona didn't elaborate, her walls snapping back up as quickly as they'd fallen, and she flicked her hand dismissively.
"Anyway, it's old news," she said, her voice turning brisk again. "Come on, grab a seat, and let's eat Reena's treat together. It's the least I can do for you after all the trouble my partners put you through."
Rhona moved with that fluid grace, hips swaying as she navigated around fabric piles and sketchbook stacks. Brandy forced herself to keep her eyes up and focus on Rhona's messy, windswept hair or the sharp line of her jaw instead of how her jeans clung to her legs. But it was a losing battle, and her cheeks heated again, her heart thumping a little faster than she'd like to admit.
Was this because she didn't have sex when she had the chance? Was her steam-engine heart punishing her for not giving in to her horny brain? This was so unfair.
Brandy shook her head, trying to clear the flustered fog clouding her brain. But as Rhona glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with playful mischief, Brandy knew she was in trouble. It'd been a while since she felt out of her depth, but this dressmaker rattled her in a way that not even Gym Trainers could.
Brandy settled onto a worn but comfortable couch, the fabric soft beneath her fingers as she leaned back, trying to look more relaxed than she felt. Rhona flopped down beside her, the movement so graceful and fluid that Brandy couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. How could someone be so effortlessly magnetic?
Rhona set the box of cheesecake on the coffee table, flipping it open to reveal perfectly sliced pieces, the creamy filling topped with a glossy raspberry glaze that glistened in the room's lamplight.
"Reena's cheesecake never disappoints," Rhona said, handing Brandy a plate and a fork. "She's almost as big a menace in the kitchen as outside of it. It's dangerous to eat this, really. You get addicted."
Brandy laughed, the sound coming out more nervous than she'd intended. "Yeah, Morgan really seemed to love it. We kind of accidentally trashed ours before we could get into it."
Rhona's eyes sparkled with amusement as she took a bite, her lips closing around the fork, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as she savored the taste. Brandy's breath hitched, her heart skipping a beat. How was it even possible to look that good while eating? It had to be some kind of inheritance, or was Brandy just falling for old ladies now?
"It's worth it," Rhona sighed, licking a stray bit of raspberry sauce from her lips. "So good."
Brandy forced herself to focus on her slice, stabbing her fork into the creamy layer and taking a quick bite before the distractingly attractive Rhona rattled her. The cheesecake grabbed her attention hard. It was a little bite of heaven, rich and smooth, the tartness of the raspberry balancing the sweetness perfectly. Brandy let out an involuntary moan of appreciation, her eyes widening as she realized she'd made the sound out loud.
Rhona laughed and kicked her legs up into Brandy's lap. She did it so casually that it didn't even seem like a weird thing to do. Of course, Brandy should let her rest her legs there. If her fate was to be a stool for Rhona, she'd do it happily. Or at least until the cheesecake ran out.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments, the delicate clink of their forks contrasting almost comically with the sound of heavy banging from the room they'd just left. Brandy could feel the tension easing just a little, the cheesecake working its magic as she let herself enjoy the moment. Rhona was blushing a little at just how furious Brandy's partners were going at it, and it was nice to make the punk lady blush for a change.
When they finally polished off that divine bit of cake, Rhona leaned back contently, crossing one leg over the other in Brandy's lap. She wiggled her shoes at Brandy until they slipped off, revealing nice, crisp white socks.
Brandy couldn't help but stare at Rhona's socked feet in her lap, her brain short-circuiting at the sheer casualness of it all.
"You're pretty comfortable, huh?" Brandy asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Rhona's mouth curved into that wicked, lazy smirk that Brandy was quickly learning to love and hate in equal measure. "What, you don't like being my footrest? I can move if it's too much for you."
"I can handle you. But you're doing something," Brandy said. "Ever since you grabbed my hand, I've been drooling over you. It's Cursed body, right? One of your Froslass had that ability. How does it work for inheritance?"
Rhona's eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark, her smirk widening. "Cursed Body, huh? Sure, you don't just want to slip me out of these jeans?"
Brandy's pulse quickened, her heart thudding against her ribcage. "It is! I knew it. I was feeling all weird and distracted, but it's just your Froslass inheritance!"
Rhona chuckled a low, throaty sound that made Brandy's skin prickle. "Oh, I don't think it's just the inheritance, honey. But it's definitely helping."
Brandy grinned, snipping at her socks with her fingers. "Deserved! You're being such a flirt. I'm not the usual delivery girl that you can just unwrap."
Rhona's laughter was a rich, throaty sound that filled the room. "It's fun watching you try to keep it together." She stretched lazily, her shirt riding up just enough to reveal a strip of toned stomach. "You're adorable when you're flustered."
Brandy crossed her arms, fixing Rhona with her best defiant glare. "I'm not flustered. You're just annoyingly good at this."
Rhona's smirk widened. "I've had a lot of practice. Okay then, what can I do for you if I can't get you out of that outfit? I like to have my delivery girls leave with a smile."
Brandy's eyes gleamed with excitement. She had questions for Rhona, but before that, she had to take her shot at a special request.
"You ever made a dress for a Magikarp?"
Rhona's face lit up, excitement dancing in her eyes. "No! Not ever. Oh Brandy, do tell me more."