Closer (Negan X OC)

Chapter 35

A few hours later, I was finishing getting ready for my night with Negan. As I pulled the red mini dress up my body, I couldn't help but marvel at my appearance. My hair was natural, the wild black tresses forming around my face perfectly and falling past my shoulders. I had applied light makeup, emphasizing my eyes with eyeliner and mascara and finishing with a nude matte lipstick. The dress I had chosen was sleeveless, hitting me mid thigh and making my legs look longer than they really were, the deep surplice seriously accentuating my chest. I paired the dress with my one and only pair of heels—studded Louboutins that were a gift from a former girlfriend who lived for designer fashion. Despite my usual hatred for heels, I was in love with these, particularly because of the edginess of the studs and the mere fact that I could somehow walk comfortably in them. When I thought about what I was wearing under the dress, I couldn't help but blush. I had decided on putting more of an effort into my choice in intimates, deciding on a strapless black lace bra and lace boy shorts. I didn't know what would come from my night with Negan, but I was prepared nonetheless.

In the last week, our relationship had changed so much, growing and blossoming into something more. I found myself constantly craving his presence, and now that I knew what it was like to kiss him, to see him give me that sleepy grin first thing in the morning...I knew that I'd never get enough of him. Sex was still an uncharted territory, there were so many paths that I wasn't quite sure how to navigate. But I knew that if I said the words, or more like when, Negan would show me the way.
I was pulling on my leather jacket when I heard a familiar rhythmic knock on the front door. My heart was hammering out of my chest by the time I walked to the front door and pulled it open.

I audibly gasped when I saw him, heat pooling in my belly as my eyes drifted down his body. He was wearing a black sweater, the v neckline showing a hint of his chest hair, the three quarter sleeves showing his defined arms. Shockingly enough, his trademark leather jacket was missing. He had also traded in his usual grey pants for a pair of dark jeans that hugged his long legs in all the right places.
When my eyes went back to his face, I saw that his gaze was averted elsewhere, trailing down my body, lingering on my breasts before moving further down to my heels. He looked back up at me and gave me a devilish smirk.

"Are you trying to make me have a heart attack?"
I laughed, pulling the door closed behind me and locking it as I moved closer to him.

"Maybe," I said, falling into our usual flirtation. "But it would be a good way to go, wouldn't it?"

He grinned down at me. "It most certainly fucking would."

I returned the smile...but then the clouds of doubt started rolling in once more.

"It's not too much, is it?" I asked him, gesturing to my outfit.

He shook his head. "You look like a beautiful bad ass rocker chick, as usual."

I giggled, immediately feeling better. "You know, I find myself constantly amazed by your ability to make me feel better in any given situation. And you don't look so bad yourself. The sweater is...different."

"Ability? It's a goddamn gift. But it's also the truth, you're gorgeous as fuck. Wait, bad different?" He asked, a genuine look of concern flashing in his eyes.

I shook my head. "Good different."

"Thank fuck," Negan said, relieved. "I was starting to think that I looked like Mr. Fuckin' Rogers."

I laughed at his comparison as he closed the small distance between us. His hands fell to my waist, pulling me closer to him. I took advantage of my added height and pulled his face down to mine as I kissed him. I prodded his lips with my tongue, and he immediately granted me access, his tongue meeting my own. I was starting to feel lightheaded, getting completely lost in the sensation of Negan. And given the fact that his grip tightened on me, I don't think he minded one bit.

Negan was the one to end the kiss. I opened my mouth to protest, but he spoke first.

"We better get the hell out of here before my girl sees me."